#yeah i've contemplated gentleness of stories but like. ALSO this.

[freesia-writes]

Hey!!! So excited to see that you were opening requests for a Bad Batch Valentine's event! I would like to put in a humble request of a one shot with Echo and a female reader. I have no specific details on appearance. For the general vibe, I would like it to make me feel all the happily ever after feels. I love all your work, can't wait to see what you do next!! ❤️ 😍

Yeah baby! I can't ever resist a little stargazing/campfire sort of situation, so here's a fairly generic setting that's just filllllled with his sweetness (and slight sauciness, LOL). Dividers by @stars-n-spice from this post here!

Echo x GN!Reader

970 words

No content warnings

Underneath the twinkling canvas of stars, you and Echo found yourselves nestled around the crackling campfire, the warmth casting a gentle glow over your faces. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the distant sound of nocturnal creatures stirring in the forest.

Echo sat beside you, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames as they flickered and swayed in the cool night breeze. His expression was thoughtful, his brow furrowed slightly as if lost in deep contemplation.

"You know," he began, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, "there's something about being out here, under the stars, that just feels... right."

You nodded in agreement, following his gaze as it drifted up toward the glittering expanse above. "It's peaceful," you replied softly, "like the chaos of the world fades away for a little while."

Echo smiled, a small, genuine curve of his lips that softened the lines of his face. "Exactly," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the fire crackled and popped beside you, the two of you found yourselves lost in conversation, sharing stories and memories as the night stretched on. Echo spoke of his time as a member of the 501st as well as his time in Clone Force 99, recounting daring missions and narrow escapes with a mixture of pride and humility. You listened intently, hanging on his every word as he painted vivid pictures of battles fought and comrades lost. There was a depth to Echo's stories that resonated with you, a sense of camaraderie and loyalty that spoke to the bonds forged in the crucible of war.

"I'll never forget the time we were stranded on that desolate moon," Echo said, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "We had to fend off a pack of ravenous nexu with nothing but our blasters and a few thermal detonators."

You laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet of the night. "That sounds like quite the adventure," you replied, imagining the scene playing out in your mind's eye.

"It was," Echo agreed, his gaze distant as he relived the memory. "But it was also one of the moments that brought us closer together as a team. We had each other's backs, no matter what. I felt like a real part of a team again." 

As the fire burned low and the sky lay above you as a dark, velvet cover, you realized that this moment was something special. It was a chance to connect with Echo on a level that went beyond the battlefield, to see the man behind the armor and the scars.

"Thank you for sharing your stories with me," you said softly, breaking the silence that had settled over the clearing. "It means a lot."

Echo turned to you, his gaze soft and sincere. "Thank you for listening," he replied, a hint of warmth in his voice despite its wistful touch. "It's been a long time since I've had someone to share them with.”

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, and the air between you seemed charged with electricity, a palpable tension that you couldn't ignore. He shifted beside you, his gaze lingering on your face as if searching for something in the depths of your eyes. 

"You know," he began, his voice low and husky, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, anticipation coursing through your veins. "What is it?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

He reached out, his hand coming to rest on yours, his touch sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. "I... I don't know how to say this," he confessed, his gaze dropping to where your fingers were intertwined. "But ever since I met you, I've felt... something. Something I can't really explain, and something I don’t think I deserve, but… I don’t want to stuff it down anymore.”

“Oh.” Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air between you. “Echo… How could you say you don’t deserve it?”

“Cause I’m a bit of an ass,” he said with a grin, breaking the intensity of the moment with some levity.

“My favorite ass,” you teased, heart warming at the humor and relief that softened his sharp features. 

Echo looked up, his gaze locking with yours, and in that moment, the world seemed to fall away. His pale brown eyes were brimming with emotion, a new vulnerability and courage surfacing at the same time. You didn’t know how to confess all that you felt toward him as well, feeling utterly paralyzed by the dreaminess of the entire situation -- nestled cozily side by side on the ground beneath the stars. 

Without thinking, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you until your lips met in a soft, tender kiss. It was like coming home, a perfect moment of clarity and connection that left you breathless and wanting more. He sucked air in through his nose, freezing for a split second before tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His arms snuck around you, pulling you more closely against him until you were almost losing your balance, and you came tumbling apart with hands sprawling to find the ground and a small chuckle punctuating the passion.

Once you got situated, you snuggled back together, closer than before, tucking yourself against his side. He nestled his cheek against the side of your head, his fingers tracing patterns against the outside of your arm. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, a rush of happiness flooding through you at his words. "Me too," you replied, turning and leaning in to press another kiss to his lips.

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#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanfiction #bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #x reader #reader insert #echo x you #echo fluff #tbb echo fluff #tbb echo romance #first kiss #clone fluff #tbb fluff #bad batch fluff #bad batch fic #bad batch one shot #tbb one shot #echo one shot

[glitterp0prhaps0dy]

the walls are crumbling

Family and friends hold a significant place in my heart. Trust doesn't come easily to me, as I value promises deeply. Sadly, my trust was once shattered by someone close who broke their promise in the worst way imaginable.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Floyd was sprawled out on the bed, a fresh bandage adorning his nose. He let out a groan, the aftermath of Grog's attack manifesting as a relentless headache. The room was steeped in darkness, a small concession to his throbbing head, per his request.

As the door creaked open, Barb entered, her silhouette framed by the light from the hallway. She carried a bottle of water, which she gently placed on the desk next to Floyd before settling herself on the floor beside the bed. "How ya doing bud?" she inquired with genuine concern.

Floyd managed a weak smirk, despite the pain. "Oh, you know, just living the dream. Getting beaten up by a mountain of muscle was definitely on my to-do list."

Barb cast a sympathetic glance his way. "Yeah... sorry you had to deal with that. Grog's a real piece of work, goes after anyone who doesn't match up to his narrow idea of 'cool'," she shared, her tone carrying a mix of apology and disdain.

Floyd let out a sigh, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I guess this is going to delay my recovery, huh? Looks like my brother's going to have to wait even longer..." The sadness in his words was palpable, reflecting the weight of the setback.

Barb shifted, her interest clearly deepened by the unfolding story. "Your brother, huh... It's interesting, I've never really delved into why you left. What was it that drove you to take such a drastic step?" She leaned in slightly, her question inviting a level of introspection that hung heavily between them.

Floyd paused, the weight of past decisions and emotions becoming palpable in the quiet of the room. He reached for the bottle of water, its cool surface offering a brief respite as he marshaled his thoughts. With a slow sip, he allowed himself a moment of reflection before speaking. "It was a series of things, actually," he admitted, his voice interlacing with notes of contemplation and rue. "We had this blowout – all my brothers and I. It was about not achieving this 'ideal family harmony' we always talked about. One of those arguments that spirals out of control before you've even caught your breath."

Another sip of water punctuated his pause, his gaze momentarily losing focus as if visualizing the events once again. "But the argument was just the final straw, not the whole reason. I felt cornered, suffocated by all these expectations and my own fears of never measuring up. Leaving seemed like the only way out then, a chance to forge my own path, away from the shadows of those expectations."

Barb's presence was a quiet anchor in the room, her face a mask of empathy and understanding as she listened. "What about now?" she gently urged him on, sensing there was more he was grappling with.

Floyd's response carried a twinge of regret. "Now, I see that leaving was more like running away. It didn't solve anything, just delayed facing those deep-seated issues. And it brought on new ones – the ache of missing them, the guilt over the abrupt departure, wondering how much I've hurt them, especially him." His voice held a new level of insight, the kind that often comes from facing hard truths.

Barb offered a small, understanding smile, her demeanor gentle yet encouraging. "It sounds like you've been through quite a journey. But recognizing all of this? That's progress, Floyd. It shows growth. And hey, making mistakes is part of being a teenager. It's how we learn, right?" Her words, meant to comfort, also underscored the universal nature of growth and the hope that understanding brings.

Floyd gave Barb a faint nod, a hum of acknowledgment escaping him as the pain medication he'd taken earlier began to assert its influence, drawing him towards sleep. He couldned, his face sinking comfortably into the pillow. Barb observed this with a gentle smile, quietly exiting the room. She carefully closed the door behind her, ensuring the room remained dimly lit to maintain the tranquil environment Floyd preferred.

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

Barb stepped into the living room, where Riff was deeply engrossed in a battle of wits with the remnants of the demolished wheelchair. He prodded and poked at its battered frame, hope flickering in his eyes, only for it to be extinguished with a heavy sigh of defeat - the wheelchair was beyond repair.

Carol, on the other hand, was immersed in a rather creative endeavor. Her paper was a battlefield of sketches: skulls and stick figures in various states of duress, each representing Grog. The paper was boldly titled "Different Ways to Destroy Grog." It was clear Carol's artistic talents were currently fueled by a thirst for vengeance.

Rebel, meanwhile, was the picture of academic dedication, buried in a medical textbook. She was simultaneously drilling herself with flashcards, a testament to her determination to learn. Her leg was elevated, resting on a cushion - a battle scar from her encounter with Grog. Despite having delivered a formidable blow to Grog's face, Rebel hadn't emerged unscathed; she'd sprained her ankle in the process.

Barb slumped down on the couch next to Carol, a cloud of gloom hanging over her from the whole ordeal with Grog. She let out a deep sigh, her spirits dampened by the recent events. Glancing over at Carol's sketches, her eyes landed on a particularly imaginative doodle: Carol's hair transformed into a chainsaw, accompanied by a note that read 'revenge for him hurting Floyd's hair'. Despite the heavy mood, Barb couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight.

As the front door swung open, Thrash stepped inside, immediately noticing the remnants of the broken wheelchair and the somber atmosphere that enveloped the room. The usually vibrant energy of the group was noticeably dimmed. "What's going on? Where's Floyd?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

Rebel looked up from her medical book, meeting Thrash's gaze with a serious expression. "Floyd got into a bit of trouble at the market," she began, her tone even but carrying the weight of the incident. "We split up to grab some things, and... well, Floyd had a run-in with Grog. It got pretty nasty. Grog didn't just insult him; he physically attacked Floyd. Broke his nose, damaged his wheelchair beyond repair."

"Wow..." Thrash exhaled, the word barely escaping his lips as he processed the gravity of what Rebel had relayed. The shock was evident in his widened eyes, a mix of disbelief and concern flooding in.

Thrash's gaze shifted to Rebel's propped-up foot, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "And what happened to you?" he inquired, concern etched in his voice.

Rebel glanced down at her injured foot, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Kicked the hell out of Grog," she replied matter-of-factly, her tone betraying the underlying satisfaction of delivering a well-deserved blow.

Riff glanced up from the wheelchair fragments, his frustration palpable. "That Grog's a piece of work," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Acts like he owns the whole market. It's one thing to have a beef with someone, but attacking Floyd like that? Unforgivable."

Carol, still scribbling her revenge plans, piped up with equal disdain. "He's nothing but a big, angry, walking disaster. Anyone who messes with one of us deserves what's coming to them. And believe me, I've got some creative ideas for his comeuppance," she said, tapping her pencil against the paper filled with doodles and notes. "Harming Floyd's hair, though? That's a personal attack on all Trolls. It's like cutting off a limb!" Her voice was a mix of anger and a bizarre sense of excitement at the prospect of enacting her plotted revenge.

Barb had remained silent, idly twiddling her fingers, lost in thought. Eventually, she lifted her gaze to the others and voiced a heavy realization, "...Floyd's going to be with us for a bit longer, huh?"

The room turned towards her, absorbing the weight of her words. Thrash replied, with a mix of regret and warmth in his tone, "Yeah, sadly, that seems to be the case. Not that we mind having him here, of course—he's a great kid. But it's unfortunate because it means he'll be delayed in getting back to his family..."

"Oh right, Floyd's upstairs, likely out like a light by now. Wouldn't shock me if that behemoth of a brute rattled his brain enough to give him a concussion," Riff mentioned, concern evident in his voice despite the casual delivery.

Carol, who had been silently doodling, looked up, her expression a mix of worry and anger. "We should've been there sooner," she said, the guilt heavy in her tone. "I mean, what if it's serious? Concussions are no joke."

Barb nodded, sharing the sentiment. "Yeah, and with his leg already in bad shape, this is the last thing he needed. Poor guy has been through enough as it is."

Rebel, still focused on her medical book but clearly tuned into the conversation, added, "We'll keep a close eye on him, make sure he gets the rest and care he needs. But you're right, we need to be more vigilant. We can't let something like this happen again."

Thrash, leaning against the doorway, chimed in, "Agreed. And maybe it's time we teach that Grog a lesson on manners. Can't have him thinking he can just bully anyone who crosses his path."

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

I consider you as my friend, witnessing you in pain was agonizing. It stirred a profound anger within me. I have a strong desire to shield those I care about. I promise to stand by you and protect you from harm.

#trolls #trolls au #trolls world tour #trolls floyd #trolls barb #trolls grog #trolls rebel #trolls carol #trolls riff #trolls king thrash #trolls fanfiction #trolls fanfic #trolls oc #trolls story

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Sengoku - Kicho

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Not Proofread

On a quiet night, with faint moonlight shining through一

After taking a bath, I returned to the front of my room and suddenly stopped.

(Is Kicho still awake?)

(I'm worried, I haven't seen him sleeping much lately.)

My heart tightened as I recalled Kicho's demeanor over the past few days.

(I should at least get him some tea before he goes to bed.)

Still contemplating what I could do to help, I tried to open the door, but一

Click!

Mai: "Eh? Kyaah!"

The door suddenly opened from the inside, and someone pulled me in.

Kicho: "You came back late. What were you doing?"

Mai: "Kicho..."

I couldn't help but gulp at his low voice and questioning eyes as he pushed me back against the wall and blocked my way out with his hands.

Mai: "Nothing. I was just lost in thought for a moment."

Mai: "I was just thinking of giving you some tea."

Kicho: "I see."

Looking convinced, he relaxed his expression and hugged me gently.

(This might be the first time I've seen him so vulnerable.)

(Why did things end up like this?)

It all started about a week ago.

------------Flashback------------

Mai: "A threat?"

Kicho: "Yeah. Also, he said he’d target the maids working in the trading post."

Mai: "Maybe it's just a prank."

Kicho: "No. His motive is still unclear, but there's no doubt that he's serious."

Kicho: "The warning letter was tied to the body of the murdered guard."

Mai: "Oh no!"

The clear intent to kill made my fingertips feel cold all at once.

Kicho: "Given that you're also involved with the trading post, there's a possibility that you could be targeted as well."

Mai: "I guess so."

(Several people know that I used to work as a maid.)

(I still help him sometimes, so it's no surprise that people think I'm still one.)

As my hand almost trembled with anxiety, Kicho gently squeezed my hand.

Kicho: "I won't let any harm come to you."

Kicho: "But..."

(Ah...)

I quickly realized the meaning of his downcast eyes.

(As the head of the trading post, he carries the responsibility for the lives of the maids.)

(If he tries to protect only me, it will lead to distrust among the workers.)

Mai: "I'm fine! Please treat me just like the other maids."

Kicho: "Mai."

---------Flashback Ends---------

(He's torn between wanting to protect his lover and being in a position where he has to be fair.)

(There's been no progress on the notice, so naturally, he's exhausted too.)

Kicho: "Did you notice anything unusual before coming here?"

Mai: "No."

I tilted my head in confusion at his worried eyes.

Mai: "Um, is something wrong?"

Kicho: "..........."

Kicho: "Last night, a maid out on an errand in town had her hair cut off."

Mai: "What!?"

Kicho: "She couldn't see the killer's face since it was in a dimly lit alley, but after passing by him, he identified her as the maid at the trading post."

Mai: "Then..."

Kicho: "Yeah. I'm pretty sure he's the one who made the threat."

(There was an actual victim.)

(And I was in town during the day for a meeting with a client.)

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the danger approaching me.

Kicho: "By the time the maid turned around in a panic, realizing her hair had been cut, the murderer had disappeared."

Kicho: "There was nothing left on the ground except a new note, which stated, This is only the beginning."

Mai: "Beginning? That means it's not yet over."

Kicho nodded quietly and hugged me.

As I settled into his arms, I realized my body was shaking.

Kicho: "I'm sorry."

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho: "It's no surprise that I'm making you worry, but more than that, I'm ashamed of myself for feeling relieved to hear that the victim wasn't you."

Mai: "Kicho..."

Wanting to soften his expression, shaded by conflict and guilt, I hugged him back.

Kicho: "Is it alright if I confirm with my eyes that nothing really happened?"

Mai: "Ah."

With a gentle yet irresistible force, he pushed me down onto the bed.

Kicho: "I want to make sure I can protect you."

Mai: "F-Feel free to confirm as much as you want."

(If it brings him even a little peace of mind, I'll do anything.)

Kicho: "Thank you."

Mai: "Mn..."

His fingers carefully trailed through my hair and skin to check for wounds.

As I endured the tickling sensation, he lightly kissed the corner of my eye.

Kicho: "You were probably out in town during the day. Considering what happened, you should refrain from going out alone."

Mai: "You're right. There's also the risk that the murderer could pose as my client."

(I want to work, but my safety comes first.)

(Though if possible, I'd like to assist him.)

Mai: "Since I'm taking a break from work, I have a favor to ask you."

Kicho: "A favor?"

Mai: "Let me help you with your work."

Kicho: "Okay. Let's make the arrangements starting tomorrow."

Mai: "Thank you!"

He covered me again and started sucking on my lips.

Mai: "Nn...ah..."

He held me, embracing my slightly trembling body, and whispered sadly.

Kicho: "Somewhere deep in my heart, I wish I could keep you safe, out of anyone's reach."

(Kicho...)

Mai: "I don't mind that at all, but if possible, I want to be by your side, no matter what happens, for as long as possible."

Kicho: "I see."

Smiling faintly, he took my lips, and we intertwined our bodies.

The next morning一

Kicho: "There's a slight change to today's schedule. Make sure you don't miss anything."

I firmly listened to his voice as he spoke to the gathered subordinates and maids.

As everyone headed to work, his lovely voice called out to me.

Kicho: "Mai. I have a special job for you."

Mai: "What kind of job?"

Kicho: "I'll explain later. Follow me."

(H-Huh?)

Upon returning to the room, Kicho started explaining the details of the tasks.

Kicho: "That's all. Due to the sensitive nature of the information, you won't be allowed to leave the room unnecessarily."

Mai: "H-Hold on!"

The only work he entrusted me with was organizing documents and doing secretarial work that I could do without leaving my room.

(Some maids have to go out to town for their tasks!)

Mai: "I'm the only one assigned to work in a safe place一Nnn..."

I tried to appeal to him, but he shut my lips with a kiss.

I looked up at the dark circles under his eyes, and words failed to come out at that moment.

Kicho: "Mai, don't leave your room, okay?"

Mai: "Kicho!"

Leaving behind a voice that sounded more like a plea than an order, he left the room.

(He usually wouldn't do something this forceful, but he's been so tense that his physical and mental state may be nearing its limit.)

(Is there anything I can do?)

I couldn't even slip out of the room, given the possibility that he would notice me and become even more controlling.

I had no choice but to get on with my work.

Then time passed by.

*Thump*

Mai: "Hm?"

I suddenly turned around at the unexpected sound, but there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

(I must have misheard it.)

*Clonk*

(I'm not mishearing it. It's coming from outside the window!)

Realizing that the sound was coming from outside, I opened the window and looked down at the garden.

Masamune: "What's the matter? You don't look happy, Mai."

Part 2 ┆ Premium End ┆ Epilogue

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen jp #ikesen #ikesen kicho #ikesen kichou #ikesen translations #cybird

[sagau-fruit-bowl]

Part ten? Part ten. Oh gosh, part ten already.

I have no clue what I'm doing with this story at this point but it's gonna go somewhere, again, this story has a life of its own.

ALSO I GET TO DO SOME [NAME] ABILITY BUILDING! FUCK YEAH!

Masterlist

(I've given up on adding a link to every chapter.)

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was around four am when [Name] slowly woke up from their slumber.

They opened their eyes to find Aether holding them, his face buried into their neck and arms wrapped around their waist, which caused [Name] to make a sound of annoyance as they struggled to free themselves from his annoyingly strong grasp.

It took about five minutes for them to free themselves without waking the Traveler but upon looking out the window and seeing the stars in the sky, they decided it was worth it. 

Slipping back on their shoes that they didn't quite remember taking off and grabbing their bag, they opened their door to step into the hallway.

They walked down the echoey corridors, exiting the same way they had entered hours earlier and being very gentle with the annoyingly large doors.

Dispite the late hours, Mondstadt was not fully asleep yet. Sounds could be heard from taverns and alleyways, and [Name] could have sworn the air of Mondstadt carried every word to them.

[Name] didn't exactly consider themselves the most intelligent person so when their mind presented the idea of leaving Mondstadt and returning that afternoon, their pride had no chance of stopping them, however they did recognize they wouldn't make it through the front gate. They could go out the side gate though.

Walking through Mondstadt at night was beautiful, gentle yellow lights illuminated the stone below their shoes and provided them something to see by, even as they turned into a more dimly lit part of town.

 

The clouds that had covered the sky had vanished now, the moon shining brightly and providing any light the street lamps could not.

As they reached the side gate, they grinned upon finding it empty and hoisted their backpack higher on their shoulders and approached it quickly, at least until a burst of flame in front of them caused them to fall backwards in surprise.

"What the fuckims?!" Again, awful last words.

Footsteps from behind them stole their attention and they turned to see Diluc quickly make his approach, annoyance written on his face as he spoke.

"State your name and business for being out so late at night."

[Name] vaguely contemplated being as snarky as usual but one glance towards his claymore changed their mind as they scrambled to their feet.

"[Name], [Name] [Last Name]. Here to… I don't know, go for a fuckin walk? Didn't really have a goal when I left my room…" they trailed off, realizing how suspicious they probably looked.

"I've never heard of you before, and there's no good reason for a walk this late at night."

[Name] shrugged. "Ask your bro-... Ask Kaeya, he's met me, and you can check my bag or something, I'm just going for a normal walk, don't even have a vision to threaten you with." Terrible save [Name]. Terrible save. Well, at least he's treating them like a human being.

Diluc looked them up and down slowly before holding out his hand "The bag?" He asked before muttering to himself quiet enough that [Name] wasn't sure they were normally able to hear it "Definitely doesn't look like a threat… definitely doesn't wield a weapon."

They were tempted to try to bash his head in for that comment but doubted they would live long enough to do that if they tried as they handed their bag over.

Diluc was through in his investigation, [Name] would give it to him, however when it involved going through their things, they weren't super happy with this development.

The first thing he pulled out was the pasta dish which [Name] had genuinely forgotten about but hoped was still edible.

He looked at it and its tupperware container oddly but put it on the ground beside him, then pulling out a pocket knife that made [Name]'s eyes bulge.

It was a normal pocket knife that they carried around, what made them stare was the fact it now sparkled like an obtainable item in game, well, it was a dream they told themselves, anything was possible. A stinging feeling from where they fell backwards caught their attention but they shook it off, this was just a dream, a very vivid one.

The third thing he pulled out was a change of clothes, black jeans and a white undershirt with a black and white flannel to wear overtop. Diluc gave them a look that made [Name] wonder if he was judging their fashion sense or lack there of in their chess like outfit.

Fourth was the item that caused him to step in his tracks, a simple hardback book with the cover, a boy in an orange shirt, he stood staring up at stormy skies above the empire state building, likely an unknown building but that wasn't reason for him to stop like that, until [Name] realized he likely didn't recognize the writing… this was going to be bad.

Unknown to them however, Diluc did recognize it, too well in fact. Everytime The Guide would control his body like a puppet on a string, increasing his speed and strength exceptionally, he'd see writing in front of his eyes, writing like this. 

He'd been there for upwards of an hour before, staring at the unknown words in front of him because he couldnt do anything else, but he'd never complain. How could he complain? The Guide was the best protector Mondstadt, hell, Teyvat as a whole could hope for. Someone he could see as a role model, even though he didn't know them personally.

Here he was, the middle of the night in Mondstadt, staring at a stranger who only awkwardly smiled at him as he went through their things, the cold of the night completely undetected as he stared into the eyes of someone who had a book with the same writing that The Guide used.

Diluc stood with the book in hand "Where did you get this?" And [Name] shrugged. 

"Can't remember, been a few years now but knowing me? 2nd and Charles free bin. Best find of my life, I've read that series from beginning to end like thirty times, you know, Nico really gets to me every tim-" their ramble was cut off by a glare so they shortened it down to something he might actually understand. "Not from this world."

Diluc paused, staring at them. He stayed that way for a while as he tried to process what that meant. A stranger, an unknown traveler shows up whose very presence clears away the biting cold air of Mondstadt late at night this time of year, with writing only The Guide has ever been able to understand and claims they've read this story multiple times.

[Name] took that as a chance to put their stuff back in their bag and was tempted to snatch the book out of his hands.

"Do I get my book back? I'm no lighting quick thief myself so if I could just…" they slowly began lifting the book out of his grasp but Diluc came to his sense, ripping the book away from them and backing them up against a nearby wall, [Name] resisted the urge to make a snide commentary about how this scene could be misinterpreted.

He held the book near their face. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Now, professionalism was not [Name]'s strong suit, so they cannot be held responsible for what they did next, smug smirk included.

"Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they do a little dance and that's where babies come from." 

A smirk grew on [Name]'s face as they continued with their godforsaken explanation, at least until a flare of heat from Diluc's vision reminded them that even though this was a dream, for some reason they still felt pain so it was not wise to mock the guy who could turn them into the most delicious grilled meat skewer you've ever tasted, with enough natural salt to cause dehydration.

"Um, Earth? I came from earth."

Diluc pulled back, staring at them in confusion and placed the book in their hands. "I have several questions for you, I'd like you to come with me."

[Name] resisted the desire to slap anybody who tried to pull them around right now and instead touched his shoulder, lacing their words with as much venom as they could and hoping he'd follow through "And I'd like you to walk back to the winery and stop acting like such a bitch. Such a shame only one of us can be made happy."

See, [Name] made that comment because they were tired of being pulled around. What they did not expect was for Diluc's shoulders to loosen and for him to turn around and begin to walk the other way, back towards the main gate.

Diluc wasn't expecting his entire body to once again be filled with the warmth and comfort of The Guide's commands, much like when he or others were set out on expeditions. Not lovingly guided but controlled, the will to fight back stripped away, only capable of following through on their orders.

He then realized with a start, he was following that strangers orders… no, not a stranger, his god.

[Name] simply watched in quiet confusion. Hey, they figured, this being aware that it's a dream thing really is working out.

They gathered their items back into their bag and zipped it up once more, stepping out the side gate as the sun began to make itself known.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Part 11

Well! I have no clue what this became but muahahaha, I get to eventually explore [Name]'s abilities more.

No clue when the next chapter will come out but I've made it over a week straight of posting so please forgive me.

Feel free to like, comment, reblog, send in an ask, send in a request or even not interact if it makes you feel more comfortable! Just know I love seeing what you all have to say!

Tag list! 

@chihawari

@samuelftm

@mizuistrying

@karylles-world

@isaywhatiwant

@multifandomvoyage

@sayomiikaye

@peacesong02

@chie-san

@magica-ren

@willburzone

@harmonbrooke

@sadlonelybagel

@silver-the-pendejo

@rizakari

@eccedentesiast-sapphic

(I am so so sorry to the people who asked to be tagged that I forgot to tag in the last few chapters.)

#genshin x reader #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin self aware au #sagau cult au #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x you #The Guide

[rivensdefenseattorney]

The Rewrite is Live!

Happy New Years!

I hope everyone is doing well during this holiday season, and that the new year treats you well.

I finally figured out how to get on Ao3 to post the first chapter of the rewrite. I know it's the preferred site for many, but I can also look into posting it on alternative sites, such as Wattpad/FFN/etc. , if anyone is interested.

You can check out the first chapter here.

I feel like I still want to continue editing the chapter, but I need to move forward. I wanted to start the new year out by posting the first chapter, so I can track how much progress I make. Hopefully you all like it. I'll post a snippet of the fanfic here, so you'll know what to expect.

__

[Snippet]

Stella helped her Bloom up the steps and into the warmth of her home. Stella guided Bloom to her room, noticing the walls adorned with framed photographs of landscapes and bustling cityscapes. "Did you make these?" Stella asked, marveling at their detail.

Bloom nodded. "Yeah, I love photography. It's a way to capture moments, tell stories without words."

As they entered Bloom's room, Stella carefully helped her settle onto the edge of her bed, her eyes flitting around the space in fascination. Bloom's room was a cozy haven, with a desk adorned with sketches and bookshelves filled with various novels, comics, and journals. Among them, a collection of books on mythical creatures stood prominently on one shelf.

"Oh, these are just some silly sketches I did," Bloom murmured, a hint of embarrassment tinging her words as she noticed Stella's gaze sweeping across her drawings.

Stella, however, was fascinated. Her eyes twinkled with curiosity as she scanned the shelves and plucked a book about mermaids, flipping through its pages with interest.

"These are mythical creatures, right?" Stella inquired, her gaze shifting from the book to Bloom's sketches.

Bloom nodded hesitantly, a touch of self-consciousness in her demeanor. "Yeah, they're creatures from folklore and myths. I've always been fascinated by them, but I know they're not real."

Stella tilted her head, intrigued. "Actually, they are."

Bloom blinked in surprise, taken aback by Stella's response. "What do you mean? They're just stories."

"Stories based on real beings," Stella clarified, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Mermaids, dragons, fairies... they exist in our realm."

Bloom's jaw dropped slightly, stunned by Stella's revelation. "You're joking, right?"

Stella shook her head, a gentle smile on her face. "I'm serious. In the realm where I come from, these creatures are very much real. It's incredible to see your sketches of them. You have a unique talent to capture their essence."

Bloom's eyes widened in wonder and disbelief. For years, her fascination with mythical creatures was a private passion she believed to be purely imaginative. To hear Stella affirm their existence filled her with a sense of validation and joy she hadn't experienced before.

"You're the first person who's ever said something like that," Bloom admitted, a sparkle of excitement lighting up her features.

Stella grinned, delighted to share this newfound connection. "Well, believe me, there's a whole world of magic out there waiting to be discovered. Your drawings... they're like glimpses into our reality."

Bloom couldn't contain her grin, a rush of happiness swelling within her. Finally, someone else understood her fascination with the mystical world, validating her lifelong belief in magic. It was a connection she cherished, knowing that she wasn't alone in her fascination.

Stella joined Bloom on her bed, allowing her to feel an unusual sense of ease as she confided in Stella. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the soft moonlight filtered in, casting a serene glow across the room.

"You know, Stella," Bloom began, her voice carrying a contemplative tone, "I've never quite felt like I truly belong here on Earth. It's always felt... small, you know? Limited. There's this constant feeling, this certainty, that there's something more out there waiting for me."

Stella listened intently, her eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. She nodded gently, encouraging Bloom to share more.

"I've dreamt of something bigger, something beyond this world," Bloom continued, her words tinged with a hint of longing. "And now, with all this talk of magic and other realms... it's like a door has been opened to that possibility."

Stella placed a comforting hand on Bloom's shoulder. "Sometimes, feeling out of place is just a sign that there's a different path waiting for you, one that resonates more with who you truly are."

Bloom offered a small smile, grateful for Stella's understanding. "Thank you, Stella. I need some time to process all of this. Can you do me a favor and tell Ms. Faragonda that I'll have an answer for her by the end of the month?"

Stella nodded in agreement. "Of course, Bloom. I'll convey your message to her. But I should probably start heading out soon. Your parents might be worried about you."

Bloom glanced at the clock and realized the lateness of the hour. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks again, Stella. For everything."

As Stella made her way to the door, she turned back to Bloom with a reassuring smile. "Take your time, Bloom. You'll know what's right for you when the time comes, and remember, you're never alone in this."

#winx rewrite #winx #winx club #winx club fanfiction #winx fanfic #winx club fanfic #winx club rewrite #winx stella #winx bloom

[blazehedgehog]

Do you think Tears of the Kingdom is an expansion pack of BOTW?

Yes, but not in a negative way.

There was a trend Nintendo had during the Wii U era -- with Mario Kart 8, Hyrule Warriors, etc. They'd do DLC for those games that went above and beyond what anyone expected.

The original Mario Kart 8 DLC (what we now know as Mario Kart 8 DX) nearly doubled the size of that game for like $12. And though I've never sank my teeth in to Hyrule Warriors, a friend often tells me that when that game added new Adventure Mode maps (or whatever they were), it was basically adding multiple hundreds of hours of content.

That's sort of what Tears of the Kingdom feels like. Nintendo had a chance to stop and say "Well, what else can we do here?" And while that lead to things like The Master Trials and the Champions DLC for Breath of the Wild (I never played either), it feels like they just kept going and that's how we ended up with Tears of the Kingdom.

It honestly feels a lot like Super Mario Galaxy 2, to me. It's a thought won't leave me. I feel like a lot of people probably know this, but if you weren't aware, Galaxy 2 originally started out as DLC for the original game. And it just sort of grew, and grew, and grew until it was big enough to fill up a whole entire second game. Since the Wii wasn't really built to handle DLC of that size, and since they had so much content, they just broke it off and sold it on a disc.

There's even evidence buried inside of Galaxy 2. If you have the right tools you can see that the internal disc header for the game identifies it by the name of "Super Mario Galaxy MORE".

I can absolutely imagine that as they were brainstorming Breath of the Wild DLC ideas, somebody suggested adding new areas to the map and it just spiraled out from there.

It also carries that feeling insofar as, like... Super Mario Galaxy 1 has a vibe. Under the normal "Wahoo Mario" feel, it's kind of cold and kind of lonely. It's got that whole sad story with Rosalina's origin buried inside of it, and so on. It conjures different emotions than most Mario games.

Super Mario Galaxy 2 throws all that out the window. It's a much brighter, more energetic game overall, like most Mario games are. That somber, contemplative edge around Galaxy 1 is gone now. Even when it's going for something slower, and more gentle, it's more playful and mysterious. I mean, just compare the File Select themes from Galaxy 1 and Galaxy 2.

This is the way I feel about Tears of the Kingdom. Breath of the Wild, at least as far as it felt to me, was a very heavy game. It opened basically telling you that you had failed to save Hyrule and a lot of the game was about picking up the pieces and trying again. Scars of the lost battle were everywhere, people lived in fear, it was bad.

Tears of the Kingdom is much more hopeful. It's been eight years and Princess Zelda is spearheading a whole restoration effort to reclaim and rebuild Hyrule. Even if there are much scarier monsters roaming around now (and in much greater numbers), that feeling of sadness and oppression is gone. This is a Hyrule on the upswing, and they aren't going to let anything slow that momentum. It's brighter, more lively, more playful. Just like Galaxy 2 was to Galaxy 1.

So yeah, I do kind of feel like Tears of the Kingdom is an expansion for Breath if the Wild, but when it comes to how Nintendo defines an expansion pack, it's still basically its own whole entirely new game with a completely different feel.

#questions #Anonymous #nintendo #zelda #breath of the wild #mario #super mario galaxy #tears of the kingdom

[benjaminthewolf]

Kai (Simon's Mer OC Lol)

Kai's a Whale Shark Mer OC that @cowardlysimon made for Mer-May. So happy end of Mer-May everyone!

But yeah I purposefully held off on posting a story this week so everyone, including Simon and I could recover from everything that went down two days ago.

Thankfully, as you've all seen, I managed to work through that shit yesterday in the wonderous form of everyone's favorite method of logical argumentation, logical syllogisms.

****

     Kai was a mer-man who, in spite of the horrific, unforgiving brutality that was the biome of the open ocean, wasn’t exactly keen on doing anyone any harm. His Whale Shark DNA did leave him predisposed to become a friendly, gentle giant,  after all. Thus, Kai’s daily routine was always a lot more relaxed and flexible than mer-people with a far more intense ecological niche. Casual swims around his familiar little section of the big blue were a staple of said itinerary, as not only was it good exercise, it was also the perfect opportunity to go around communing with other locals. Kai had taken this easygoing little journey so many times by this point, in fact, that his muscle memory had built up to the degree where he mostly didn’t even really need to keep his eyes open in order to know where he was going. As it turns out, however, not paying attention to where you are going when moving around towards, well, anywhere, does indeed come with its risks.

     “Kai!” a voice suddenly spoke from somewhere, as Kai merely swam on blindly throughout the water’s serene flow. Kai, due to quite literally being in the dark, and also slightly tapped out of reality for the moment being, didn’t exactly think much of the noise.

     “Yoo-hoo! Kai!” the voice suddenly piped up again. Kai, now that his mind was starting to return to the real world, was just about ready to slowly bring himself to a stop and open his eyes in order to address the situation properly. That was, of course, before the entire process became instantaneously shoved into an interval of merely a single second, as one, final, glorious, single-word, single-syllable cry viciously rattled around in his ears.

     “KAI!”

     “WAAAAAH!” Kai babbled out from the shock, before eventually managing to reset himself to normal functioning. “Oh! Hey, Ranger! I…didn’t notice you back there.”

     “... gee, how could that have possibly been the case?” Ranger, a mer-man colored mostly bluish-teal, with a few random splotches of brown, skin the color white, and bluish-purple eyes, sarcastically snapped back at the relatively larger, brown-eyed-and-haired Whale Shark mer-man with a human-like beige skin-tone before him. “Anyway…so Kai, I have had a bit of an epiphany recently, and so now I sort of need you in order to accomplish it.”

     Kai cocked his head to the side in inquisitiveness. “Oh. I see. So…what is it then?”

     “Well, Kai,” Ranger began to explain. “You know how Cleaner Wrasse will willingly enter other creatures’ mouths in order to clean up inside? Well…I was kinda thinking, ‘hmmmmm, it actually looks kinda nice and comfy in there…I bet it's even more comfy further down!’ but like, obviously there aren’t many people in this ocean you can trust with something like that…so that’s why I came to you!”

       Ranger ended off his explanation with a bit of an encouraging grin. Only to find Kai almost immediately locked up within a state of blank, contemplative surprise.

     “...shit…had a feeling it was gonna be like this when I asked.”

     “N-No no no! Y-you’re good, Ranger, I just…well…y’know I’ve never done something like that before, so…it took a minute for me to fully process it all….y-y’know.”

     “Oh. So…then you’ll do it?” he promptly replied with a rising inflection of pervasiveness  intended to try and convince his larger friend.

     “You’re like…sure you’re okay with this though?” Kai eventually attempted to confirm before doing anything else on the matter.

     “Ayup!”

     “Like, positive?”

     “Uh-Huh!”

     “Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent-”

     “Oh for crying out loud, Kai! Just open up your mouth already!”

     “.............ummmm….o-okay then…I just…uh…right. Uh…aaaaaaaaaaaaah?” Kai was forced to condeed at long last before finally opening up his maw. For Ranger then, the resulting unveiling of the beige-colored chamber was accompanied by an vigorous session of hand-rubbing, before the mer-man nonchalantly swam forth into the area, immediately lodging his head and upper body snugly inside.

     Gently nuzzling his cheek down onto the slick, smooth surface of Kai’s tongue, Ranger calmly sprawled his limbs across the width of the muscle, before slipping his hands underneath in order to take a hold of the thing in a hug. Letting out a constant stream of pleasured murmurs, Ranger began slowly inching himself forwards inside the maw, easing his way towards the entrance to Kai’s throat. The plump, rounded  form of the uvula aimlessly swung its way back and forth in the barely existent current as Ranger finally gazed down the gaping, blackened, squishy depths of Kai’s esophagus. 

     The enthusiastic mer-man within gave a swift pat down onto the back of the tongue. Kai, back on the outside, was still a little befuddled by the whole situation, yet now that Ranger had gotten this far into his mouth, he felt it would kinda be pretty rude to forcefully expel him by this point. Clearly, he was enjoying himself, so what was the harm?

     Therefore concluding his ruminations with a minute nod, Kai proceeded to tilt his head back just slightly, so gravity could aid in the process of swallowing. Then, at long last, the Whale Shark mer-man squeezed the head and upper body of Ranger deep into his throat with a gulp. Feeling the body of the man squelching in, allowing his lower body to enter into his maw, only Ranger’s tail was left to be seen on the outside. Naturally taking along with it a significant amount of saltwater, that which would, of course, eventually be filtered through his kidneys in order to remove the excess of salt, Kai would thus take a second to let the water slosh down, as he wasn’t used to taking in such an absurd amount of said fluid into his throat all at once. Once he had finished reorienting himself, Kai managed to swallow a second time, shoving Ranger’s lower body into his esophagus as well. Now, all he had to do was down the tail, something which, though it was slightly longer than the entirety of the mer-man’s body, wasn’t actually very heavy in terms of pure weight, making it a lot easier to swallow as a result.

     Attempting to get the job finished quickly, Kai therefore prepped himself to swallow many times consecutively, bracing himself for all the incoming salt water as a result.

     Sensing the form of the tail being shoved down his throat rather quickly, almost sliding down its tightened, tubed length due to the water around it, Kai could feel at last the perceive Ranger’s tail fins naturally folding in on themselves as they, too, fit their way through the constricting, miniscule volume of the esophagus. Heaving out a rather drained sigh, releasing a few bubbles from his maw consequently, Kai now had pretty much nothing to do except stay there and wait for Ranger’s arrival. 

     Ranger, meanwhile, was currently focusing on the constant, squeezing motions of peristalsis that the cushiony, beige esophagus around him was exuding upon his skin and scales. Soaking in the sensory shoves, the mer-man was suddenly able to pick up the sound of a heartbeat pounding about all around in his ears. He knew that this meant he was very close to the end, noting the little fact to himself with a nod. It wouldn’t be very long, then, before a high pitched-gurgling noise joined in the audio turmoil, followed soon thereafter by growling and rumbling emulating from the chamber deep within, and eventually, the lower esophageal sphincter as well. 

     Kai on the outside was able to discern Ranger being squeezed out into his stomach as the smaller mer-man within finally joined with the excess amount of water sloshing inside, his tail being forced to curl up against the walls so it may fit itself into the confines of the tight chamber. Having just received such a gigantic meal, Kai’s stomach was thus forced to bulge outwards a little in order to comfortably accommodate Ranger’s form. Placing a hand over the slightly bloated, churning organ, Kai proceeded to give it a couple of rubs, fiercely hoping his kidneys would be able to handle all the salt. 

     Nonchalantly floating in the middle of the liquid-filled gut, Ranger soon floated his way up to one of the walls in order to squish himself gently against it. Subsequently nuzzling his cheek against the pillowy, soft, shifting muscle,  he finally ended off the journey with a few thankful, internal pats to Kai’s guts, something which only caused the Whale Shark mer-man to awkwardly stay still and blush.

     Eventually, however, Kai managed to regain himself once more. Continuing to remain still for a while longer, if just to make sure Ranger was comfortable and settled down, Kai was finally able to give an audible “Phew!” from what he had just had to do. He wasn’t sure if Ranger had heard him or not, but it honestly didn’t really matter to him anyway.

     At last, taking a cursory glance around him in order to re-familiarize himself with where he was even going in the first place, Kai eventually gave his gut one final rub, before finally continuing his swim. This time, however, Kai was going to keep his eyes open, as the very last thing he wanted right now was to accidentally bump against something mid-swim, and cause a significant disturbance to his current guest within as a result.

#soft vore #safe vore #vore writing #vore stories #vore story #male pred #male predador #male prey #m/m vore #male vore #half size vore #willing vore #willing prey #wholesome vore #extreme cuddling #endosoma #v0re #v0r3 #v.ore #vor3 #v/ore #mer pred #merman pred

[kingofbodyrolls]

Say that Again (I Dare You) (m) | jjk & pjm

Summary: You moan in your sleep, and your boyfriend knows this, but when you keep moaning another man's name in your sleep - and that man just happens to be one of your friends? What will Jungkook do? 

Pairing: Jungkook x reader x Jimin (established relationship with JK)

Note: hahaha, I'm having trouble writing, so here goes 🤪 This is my birthday treat to all of you lovely people!! Also, I've never written a threesome before (or had one myself lol) so, yeah. I hope it's alright! Please send me some love if you like it 💜 This is really filthy, and Jungkook is just straight up mean and possessive (but sweet at the end – spoiler!). It’s just a pwp of pure filth – I don’t know if I should say sorry, or you're welcome? 😇

Word count: 13.1K

Rating: mature / +18

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: choking, degrading names (sl*t), penetrative sex (one time unprotected (it’s jk x reader) and one time protected (it’s jimin x reader)), oral (female and male receiving), fingering, nipple play, praise kink, cussing, dirty talk, handjob, jealousy/possessiveness, threesome, overstimulation/edging, multiple orgasms, cum eating, pet names. 

I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something!

“Ahhhh.”

“Mmmmhh.”

“Yes!”

As Jungkook slowly awakens, a symphony of low moans and gentle groans caresses his ears, weaving through the fabric of the night. 

This isn't his first awakening tonight, and frustration simmers beneath the surface. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he's greeted by the sight of you, peacefully nestled beside him, yet the sounds you make are anything but. 

While he's grown accustomed to the symphony of your unique sleeping sounds, they still manage to disrupt the tranquility of the night. It's a peculiar blend of intimacy and frustration. 

There are moments when he simply lies there, captivated by the cadence of your breath, letting his imagination dance with the enigmatic scenarios your dreams unfold. 

Yet, there are other nights, when the discordant harmony pushes him to the brink of desire and exasperation. 

In those moments, his hand, in an act of sheer frustration, seeks solace in the quiet shadows of the room.

Tonight is one of those nights where he has nudged you lightly every time you’d moaned in your sleep, which made you stop for a short time before you started again. It’s not usually this bad, and he’s actually thinking about waking you up, even though you really need the sleep.

A dilemma dances in his thoughts, a silent waltz of consideration. 

Does he dare rouse you from the clutches of your restless dreams, offering respite in exchange for a quiet night's solitude? 

Or should he endure the symphony of your sleep-laden moans, contemplating the refuge of the couch or the earplugs concealed in the recesses of your drawers? 

The battle within him is a tangle of conflicting desires — the instinct to preserve your undisturbed slumber warring with the selfish yearning for his own, uninterrupted rest.

His initial attempt at evasion proves futile, leaving him ensnared in the cocoon of the duvet. Frustration etched across his features, a fleeting shadow in the dim room.

As if wrestling with an internal debate, he contemplates his next move. The soft exhale of reluctance escapes him before a decisive shift in resolve. With a purposeful twist, he turns on the mattress, eyes fixed on your slumbering form.

“Ah!”

“Jimin-ah!”

A sudden chill sweeps through him, arresting every fiber of his being. 

The blood in his veins turns glacial, leaving an icy trail that echoes the silent stillness of the room. 

A disconcerting picture unfolds—his body, a canvas painted with goosebumps and shivers, as if touched by an unseen hand of apprehension. 

Did he hear it correctly, or is it a phantom whisper haunting the edges of his consciousness?

Anguish tightens its grip around his chest, a visceral reaction to the revelation that sends shockwaves through his being. But beneath the veneer of anger, a more primal force stirs. 

An ember of arousal, unbidden and unwelcome, smolders in the depths of his turmoil. It's a turbulent collision of conflicting emotions, a tempest within him that threatens to engulf reason. 

Yet, as the flames of arousal lick at the edges of his consciousness, another, more formidable sentiment rises. Possessiveness, like a heavy cloak, drapes over him, an instinctual response to the threat that echoes in the recesses of his mind.

“Fuck, Jimin!” 

An unsettling tension infiltrates the room as he grapples with the disconcerting notion. 

Is your subconscious canvas painted with the vivid imagery of Jimin fucking you? 

The air thickens with an unspoken question, a lingering doubt that refuses to dissipate. Your body remains motionless, a deceptive calm veiling the tumult of thoughts that must be raging within the confines of your dreams. In the silence, the only audible resonance is the echo of explicit words escaping your lips, words that reverberate like a dissonant melody. 

You’ve never said another man’s name before. 

Usually it’s his name or none at all. 

Once, an arctic frost gripped his veins, numbing him to the core. Now, a searing inferno courses through his bloodstream, a blazing tempest consuming reason and restraint alike. The flames dance within him, a wildfire fueled by a volatile mix of emotions. 

His mind, once a sanctuary of clarity, is now a dense fog, enshrouded in the haze of an unrelenting blaze. Thoughts dissipate like smoke, leaving only one relentless imprint in the scorched recesses of his consciousness: the vivid, intrusive image of Jimin fucking you. 

It's a visceral assault on his senses, a relentless loop that dominates his mind, drowning out reason in the tumult of blazing desires.

An enigmatic force, as elusive as it is potent, propels him into action. 

It's as if an unseen hand has seized control, dictating the course of his movements with an urgency that defies reason. In the blink of an eye, the stillness of the room is shattered, replaced by the visceral cadence of his body in motion. 

The world outside dissolves into insignificance as he finds himself straddling you, an image of conflicting desires and unspoken tension. The air thickens with an unspoken question — an uncharted territory where the boundaries between impulse and restraint blur into obscurity.

The rage within him simmers, escalating with every repetition of Jimin's name, each utterance carving a deeper groove into the tapestry of his unraveling composure. It's a relentless mantra, a maddening echo that stokes the flames of his anger into an inferno. 

Frustration courses through his veins like a toxic elixir, poisoning reason and restraint. 

Fuck. 

He can’t take it. 

Anger. 

That’s all he can feel.

And then, a disturbing realization settles over him like a suffocating fog—why are his hands, that once were vessels of comfort, now around your throat?

Fuck.

You feel like you can’t breathe.

Something’s around your neck.

What?

In the blink of an eye, your world snaps into focus, the veil of sleep torn away by the jarring reality of darkness that cloaks the room. 

A sudden surge of panic courses through you as your eyes dart to Jungkook's looming figure above. 

His hands, once familiar and comforting, now clasp your throat with an unyielding grip. Your body jolts into action, an instinctual rebellion against the encroaching darkness. 

A scream, caught in the constricted confines of your throat, fights for release, while limbs flail in a desperate attempt to break free from the tightening vice of his hands. 

What the fuck is happening?!

Your desperation morphs into a primal instinct, and your fingers claw into his arms, leaving a trail of scratches etched in the wake of your distress. The sting is a visceral reminder of the nightmare unfolding, a silent testament to the rapture in the reality you once knew. 

In the shadowed abyss of the room, the question reverberates within your mind like a haunting refrain — why is he choking you? 

The air, thick with a disquieting tension, crackles with an unanswered plea for reason. His gaze, once a familiar refuge, now mirrors a dark and feral intensity that cuts through the silence like a knife. 

This isn't your Kookie, and the realization shatters the illusion of safety.

“Say that again, I dare you!” 

His words are venom, spat with a vehemence that leaves a lingering sting. The heat of his rage is palpable as he leans in, his breath a scorching tempest against your skin. 

The air crackles with an unspoken threat, each word a jagged edge that slices through the silence. The challenge hangs in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating in its intensity. 

His proximity is suffocating, his hot breath a visceral reminder of the storm of emotions that has engulfed the once tranquil space. Caught in the whirlwind of confusion and fear, you find yourself on the precipice of the unknown.

Fingers digging into his arms, your nails leave trails of desperation, each mark etching a plea for release. 

A hiss escapes your lips as his vice-like grip around your throat tightens, a relentless squeeze that sends shards of pain coursing through your body. 

The familiarity of his touch, once an intimate dance, now transforms into a twisted image of violence. This isn't the first time he's exerted control in the intimate realm, but the line has blurred into an unsettling unknown. 

In the midst of this disorienting chaos, you find yourself grappling with the unnerving realization—never before has he choked you to this extent. 

His fingers, like vices, tighten their grip, a merciless escalation that leaves you teetering on the precipice of suffocation. 

Leaning in with a menacing proximity, his voice, a venomous whisper, slithers into your ear, a chilling melody that resonates in the disoriented corridors of your mind. 

The room, once a haven, transforms into a claustrophobic labyrinth where each breath becomes a desperate gasp against the encroaching darkness. 

Dizziness settles like a shroud over your thoughts, a fog that clouds the clarity of reason. In this oppressive moment, the world narrows down to the visceral sensation of his breath against your skin, a disconcerting symphony of restraint and menace. 

As the whispered words echo through the chamber of your mind, you register the insidious truth—you're on the cusp of something inscrutable, a dance with the shadows where the boundary between fear and desire blurs into an unsettling unknown.

His voice, a gravelly rasp, slithers into your ear like a serpent's hiss, carrying with it an undertow of raw anger. 

“Jimin, huh?” 

The mere mention of the name sends a jolt of painful shivers down your body, an electric current of confusion and fear. 

What the fuck is he talking about? 

The air crackles with the weight of unspoken accusations, each word a serrated edge that lacerates the fragile silence.

Jungkook's fury, a tempestuous force, radiates through the room like a palpable storm. You, caught in the crossfire of emotions, bear witness to a version of him that eclipses any semblance of the Jungkook you once knew. The intensity of his rage is an uncharted territory, a tempest that thrashes against the shores of your understanding.

In this unsettling moment, the atmosphere quivers with an unspoken disquiet, and you realize you're staring into the eyes of a Jungkook you’ve never seen before—a Jungkook consumed by a wrath so potent, it eclipses any prior incarnation of fury.

An alarming realization settles in the pit of your stomach, an unsettling truth that sends tremors through your veins. 

The fear, once a distant whisper, now grips you in its vice-like embrace. A chill snakes down your spine, leaving behind a residue of dread that clouds your senses. 

Your struggles persist, a futile rebellion against a force you know deep down is insurmountable. His strength, an unyielding fortress, renders your resistance as mere whispers in the face of a looming tempest.

“You fucking slut!” 

You’re startled by the venom in his words, each syllable a scalding accusation whispered in the darkness. The heat of his anger lingers in the air as he finally releases his vice-like grip on your throat. Gasping for air, you pant furiously, the raspy intake a cacophony against the stillness of the room. 

The echo of his words reverberates in the hollow of your ear, leaving a lingering imprint of the emotional tempest that has just unfolded. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Jungkook?!” you yell, the words a desperate plea that hangs in the charged atmosphere. 

Your hands instinctively clutch at your throat, already throbbing with the promise of bruises that will adorn your skin like a somber tapestry.

“You can’t moan another fucking man’s name!” 

His words cut through the air like a serrated blade, a furious proclamation that reverberates through the room. The sheer force of his yell, an unrestrained outburst, echoes in the silence that follows, leaving a disquieting aftermath. 

His hands, still clasped around your neck, are a study in contradiction. Once instruments of aggression, they now rest there with an eerie gentleness, a paradoxical caress against the backdrop of earlier violence. 

The juxtaposition is disconcerting, a stark reminder of the volatile duality that resides within him.

Oh. 

So that’s what it’s about. 

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, a sudden understanding that sharpens the edges of the unfolding drama. 

You moaned Jimin’s name in your sleep. 

Well, fuck you. 

You’ve never done that before. His words from before carry the sting of betrayal, a laceration that slices through the tenuous threads of trust. The air, charged with a sense of accusation, thickens with the unspoken weight of expectations shattered. 

Jungkook's frustration, a tempest within, clashes against the reality that you have no fucking control over what you say or dream. He knows, deep down, that it's just dreams, and it's just a fucking name.

“You’d like Jimin to fuck you, huh?” 

His words, dripping with a toxic blend of accusation and taunt, cut through the charged atmosphere. The heated breath against your ear feels like a sinister caress, a reminder of the intimate betrayal he thinks has happened. 

His hands, a trespass against the sanctity of your body, journey beneath the fabric of your nightgown, groping at your breasts with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

When he finds your nipples, his fingers close around them like a vice, a merciless pinch that sends a jolt of searing pain through your body. 

Damn hard. 

You can't help but release a frustrated, high-pitched moan in response to the intensity of the sensation. Your body, once open and vulnerable, now curls in on itself, a reflexive attempt to shield against the invasive touch that pierces the silence. 

Jungkook's intense stare, a predatory gaze, lingers on your contorted form, a silent acknowledgment of the power he wields in this intimate realm.

“Fuck!” 

The exclamation escapes your lips, a breathy moan that dissipates against the hollow of his neck. 

The sudden admission of desire hangs in the air, a raw declaration that reverberates through the charged atmosphere. 

Why are you so damn wet already? 

Have you been wet all this time? 

Fuck. 

Amidst the whirlwind of sensations, you're jolted back to his question. 

“No!” 

The frustration in your yell echoes through the room, a desperate proclamation that fights to be heard over the pulsating cadence of your desire. He hovers above you, his eyes blown out with an intensity that mirrors the storm raging within.

“Why did you moan his name then?” 

He taunts you once more, his words a provocative challenge that lingers in the charged air. His eyes, flickering with a mix of curiosity and menace, fixate on your response, waiting for a crack in your composure. 

But you refuse to yield. 

The taunts, like arrows, are deflected by the armor of your determination. In the face of his provocation, your gaze remains steady, a silent defiance that echoes louder than any words.

“It’s just a meaningless dream, Kook!” you plead with an urgency that cuts through the air. 

The room, once a sanctuary, now bears witness to the turbulent current of emotions coursing through your veins. 

A part of you yearns for the respite of sleep, an escape from the unraveling reality. 

But beneath the surface, another part of you, already fucking aroused, is drawn to the magnetic pull of the unfolding tension, an unexpected desire that adds a volatile layer to your plea.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart,” he disagrees, his voice a low murmur that resonates in the charged space between you. His gaze, unwavering, locks onto yours, creating an unspoken bridge that spans the intimate distance.  

Confusion reigns within you, caught in the tumult of conflicting desires. Your body aches with a desperate yearning, craving the immediacy of him and the relief that promises to follow. It hungers for the visceral connection that throbs beneath the surface. 

Yet, your weary mind, tired and burdened by the demands of reality, pulls in the opposite direction, craving the solace of sleep to gather the strength for another relentless workday.

“You’re mine,” he seethes into your ear, the words laced with a possessiveness so raw and primal that it sends shivers down your spine. The tone, a stark departure from his usual demeanor, wraps around you like an invisible tether, anchoring you to the charged moment. 

A possessive declaration that ignites a primal response within, forcing you to stifle a moan, the sound caught between the desire to resist and the longing to surrender.

His hands, guided by an urgency born of desire, trace a tantalizing path down to your already soaked panties. In one fluid motion, he pulls them down to your trembling thighs, letting them pool at your weak knees. 

With a deliberate slowness, he withdraws, rising to his knees, and continues the journey, deftly pulling your panties the rest of the way off your shaking legs. Each deliberate movement is accompanied by a gentle stroke against your skin, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

A sensation courses through you, an involuntary response to the void that lingers within. 

Your pussy clenches and pulsates around emptiness, a physical echo of the desire that courses through your veins. In frustration, a plaintive moan escapes your lips, carrying the weight of unmet longing. 

“Kookie…” 

The name, whispered in the throes of need, becomes a desperate plea that hangs in the air, a tangible testament to the intimate connection teetering on the edge of fulfillment.

“Not you’re Kookie tonight, slut,”

Surprise flickers across your widened eyes, a sudden revelation that sends a jolt through your entire being. In the wake of this unexpected discovery, a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, an electric current that ignites the dormant embers of desire. 

His fingers trace a tantalizing path, caressing the contours of your most intimate desires. The gentle touch hovers over your clit, sending a shiver through your entire being, and then glides down to your center. With a teasing finesse, he slips two fingers inside, eliciting an involuntary gasp that reverberates through the room. 

“Fuck!” 

The exclamation escapes your lips, a raw expression of the pleasure that courses through your awakened senses.

“That's it, slut. Let the world hear how good I'm making you feel,” he encourages in a husky whisper. His fingers maintain a relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of you with an already fast pace. The intimate connection deepens as he skillfully scissors you open between each deliberate thrust.

A sharp gasp escapes you as he skillfully inserts a third finger, and you can't help but squirm in response to the exquisite stretch. The sensation, a heady mix of pleasure and surrender, courses through you, leaving your body electric with desire. 

Another moan spills from your lips, a testament to the intoxicating pleasure he evokes. With a grip on the sheets above your head, your hands tense and release, palms pressing into the fabric as if trying to anchor yourself in the midst of the overwhelming sensations. 

Suddenly, his tongue finds its way to your clit, and he sucks on it with an intensity that leaves you breathless. The sensation is overwhelming, like a surge of pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body. 

Your senses are pushed to the brink, and it feels as if your body is teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The impending orgasm looms closer, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely. 

As the waves of pleasure crash over you, speech escapes you. Your mind, lost in the fog of ecstasy, struggles to process the sheer intensity of the pleasure he bestows upon you. 

The tension in your body becomes palpable, and you find yourself biting down on your bottom lip so hard that a metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. 

Tingles shoot through your entire being, a symphony of pleasure that crescendos to a point where something within you snaps, releasing a flood of euphoria that courses through your tummy and radiates outward.

His voice, dripping with anger, slices through the haze of pleasure that envelops you. 

“Did I say you could come?” he snarls, the words a harsh reminder of the power dynamics at play. 

As he withdraws his face, slick with the remnants of your orgasm, he thrusts his fingers into you with a relentless force, eliciting a gasp that dances on the edge of oversensitivity. 

“Fucking slut,” he sneers, the words laced with both contempt and desire. 

The sting of a spank against your thigh follows, a punishing gesture that reverberates through your body, and a moan spills from your lips in response. 

He's never shown this side of himself to you before, so unfiltered and raw, and damn, do you revel in it. 

The unabashed filthiness of his demeanor is like a magnetic force, drawing you in with an irresistible allure. It's unlike anything you've experienced together, and the sheer novelty of it ignites a wildfire of arousal within you. 

“Now,” his voice, dripping with a potent mix of desire and command, cuts through the charged air, “I’m going to fuck you like the slut you are.” 

The sting of another spank against your thigh punctuates his words, a visceral reminder of the newfound intensity in his demeanor. 

“And you can't come before I say so,” he adds with a fiery determination, his anger palpable in the air.

A nervous gulp reverberates through you, a visible ripple of anticipation. 

You meet his gaze and offer a hesitant nod, the unspoken agreement echoing in the charged silence. 

In that single nod, a myriad of unspoken emotions swirl – acquiescence, vulnerability, and a flicker of desire.

A new flood of wetness cascades over your pussy and inner thighs, an involuntary response to the intoxicating allure of his demeanor. 

The air crackles with the heightened arousal that courses through your veins, a tangible manifestation of the desire that he's ignited within you. Your body, attuned to the unspoken dance between you, betrays your arousal with an undeniable response. 

His presence, magnetic and commanding, fuels the wetness that coats you. As you steal a glance at him, you witness the telltale strain against his boxers, a silent testament to the desire that mirrors your own. 

He peels his boxers down, revealing his dick that springs free from its confinement, proudly asserting its presence against his lower stomach. 

In one swift motion, Jungkook discards his boxers, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor. 

The air crackles with anticipation as he seizes both of your thighs, spreading your legs with a commanding yet tender touch. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a visible response to the mesmerizing sight of your glistening pussy.

He positions his throbbing cock at the entrance of your eager pussy, and you can feel the head of it teasingly dragging along the edges. 

The maddeningly slow dance between desire and fulfillment unfolds, drawing out the anticipation to an almost unbearable level. The intimate connection lingers, a tantalizing prelude that stretches on for what feels like an eternity, leaving you on the brink of frustration.

Satisfied with the teasing foreplay, he assertively presses his throbbing dick into the warmth of your tight walls. 

The initial intrusion sends shudders through your body, leaving you breathless. There's an urgency in his movements, a departure from the usual rhythm, as he relentlessly pushes in, denying you the luxury of time to adjust to his size. 

“You're so big–ah,” you moan, pleasure lacing your voice like a whispered surrender to the overwhelming sensations.

“You're unbelievably tight,” he gasps, his breath hitching with each powerful thrust. 

“But you're taking my cock so damn well.” 

His words, delivered in husky pants, echo the raw intensity of the moment. The pace quickens, and he begins to move in and out of you with an urgency that mirrors the fervor of your shared desire.

From the very first thrust, he unerringly finds your sweet spot, and a guttural moan escapes your lips. The impact sends waves of pleasure through your body, reducing you to putty beneath him. 

Your fingers instinctively dig into his strong biceps, seeking support in the whirlwind of sensation. His tattoos seem to come alive, a mesmerizing dance that mirrors the rhythm of his repeated, powerful thrusts.

The room echoes with the symphony of bodies colliding in a fervent dance. The audible percussion of his powerful thrusts creates a cacophony, filling the air with the heady sound of passion. 

The impact is so forceful that the bed creaks and shifts, colliding with the wall in a rhythm that resonates through the room. The raw and unbridled connection between you two manifests in every resounding slap, a testament to the intensity of the shared desire.

Embarrassment flits through your mind, a fleeting thought in the whirlwind of pleasure as a new wave of orgasmic bliss approaches. 

Yet, any inkling of self-consciousness is swiftly drowned in the overwhelming sensations that your devilish boyfriend is orchestrating. His actions are like a symphony of desire, commanding your full attention and rendering any potential embarrassment inconsequential in the face of the ecstasy unfolding.

“I'm coming,” you manage to gasp out, the words a fragile thread of awareness in the thick fog of arousal that clouds your mind. 

Your voice, a raw and unfiltered expression of ecstasy, punctuates the room, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

“Don't you dare!” he roars, the ferocity of his command slicing through the air. 

With a forceful thrust, he slams into you, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain that reverberates through the room. 

The initial shock subsides, swiftly replaced by an overwhelming surge of pleasure that eclipses the brief discomfort.

“I told you, you can only come when I say so,” he grunts, the command laced with a guttural intensity that reverberates through the air. 

His fingers dig harder into your hips, the pressure a tangible manifestation of his dominance. 

“Slut!” 

The word is spat out with a potent mix of desire and disdain, a dual-edge that cuts through the charged atmosphere.

Whimpers escape your trembling lips, the overwhelming sensations pushing you to the brink. It feels like an exquisite torture, each second an eternity as you teeter on the edge of release. 

Tears, unbidden, trace a delicate dance down your cheeks, a silent testament to the intoxicating mixture of pleasure and restraint.

The temptation to reach for your clit becomes almost unbearable, an instinctual need clawing at the edges of your self-control. 

But the knowledge that Jungkook will lose his carefully contained control if you succumb holds you back.

“Don't you dare moan Jimin's name again!” he roars, the anger in his voice adding a volatile edge to the atmosphere. 

His thrusts, already powerful, escalate to a frenetic pace, a manifestation of his furious control. The rhythmic collision of his balls against your pussy sends electric tingles of pleasure racing up your spine, an involuntary response that mirrors the tumultuous emotions in the room.

All that escapes your lips is a helpless whimper, a fragile sound that hangs in the air. 

The overwhelming sensations, a whirlwind of pleasure and surrender, leave you bereft of coherent words.

“You are mine and only mine,” he breathes into your ear, the words a seductive promise that sends shivers cascading down your body. In the intimate proximity, his voice takes on a possessive timbre, a declaration that resonates with a primal heat. 

“Say it, slut,” he commands, his hands embarking on an exploratory journey down your body until they find your breasts. 

A skilled twist of your nipples elicits a guttural moan from your lips, your back arching involuntarily. The sheer mastery with which he navigates your responses sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making the impending struggle to hold back your orgasm even more challenging.

Your breaths come in ragged gasps, each inhalation a desperate attempt to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of sensation. 

Despite the overwhelming desire for that elusive release, you channel every ounce of willpower into holding back. 

The tantalizing promise of sweet release hovers just beyond your reach, a tempting beacon in the midst of the passion that threatens to consume you. 

If Jungkook keeps up with his dirty talk and the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts, the impending climax becomes an inevitable, intoxicating destination.

“I’m yours,” you manage to gasp between his relentless thrusts, “only yours.”

A pleased expression plays on his face as he gently caresses your cheek, his touch tender against the canvas of your heated skin. His finger traces over your red, bitten lip with a softness that contrasts starkly with the wild abandon of his thrusts, now growing more fervent by the moment. 

As his movements grow more intense, you find solace in the hope that he, too, is nearing the precipice of ecstasy.

“That's my good girl,” he coos in a taunting voice, the words a sensuous melody that weaves through the charged air. 

His hands, returning to your hips, serve as both an anchor and a testament to the connection between you two. 

“Fuck, I'm close,” he pants, the urgency in his voice mirroring the building crescendo of pleasure. The intimate confession hangs in the air, a raw declaration of vulnerability. 

“You're so damn tight,” he adds, his words a heady blend of desire and admiration. As beads of sweat gather at his hairline, tracing a tantalizing path down to your tummy your breath quickens.

“You're doing such a great job, so I'm gonna reward you,” he says with a strained voice, the promise of a reward hanging in the air like a tempting promise. 

The gradual deceleration of his thrusts makes you think he’s growing tired.

“You can come now,” he pants, the words a breathless command that echoes with the intensity of shared pleasure. 

With a particularly hard thrust, he sneaks one hand down to your clit, his touch igniting sparks of ecstasy as he begins to rub it in circular motions. 

Instantly, your body jolts off the bed, an electric surge coursing through every nerve. 

Your nipples, now achingly erect, stand as a testament to the heightened arousal that has seized you. 

In the throes of pleasure, you release the most obscene moan, a raw and unabashed sound that echoes through the room. 

It's downright pornographic, a symphony of ecstasy that paints the air with the unbridled passion of the moment.

Trembling, the waves of your orgasm ripple through your body like a tidal surge, from the core of your tummy to the very tips of your toes and fingertips. Your muscles, caught in the ecstatic spasms of pleasure, react to the euphoria coursing through you. In the throes of release, your body curls in on itself, a physical manifestation of the intense pleasure that has left you utterly captivated.

Jungkook's thrusts become a symphony of passion, each movement more erratic than the last, as you feel his dick twitch inside your pulsating pussy. 

The air is charged with anticipation, and in a climactic crescendo, he releases a deep, guttural moan, your name escaping his lips like a sacred mantra.

“You're mine,” he breathes, the possessive tone riding the wave of each subsequent thrust as he savors the last echoes of his orgasm. 

His words linger in the charged air, a declaration that reverberates through the room and resonates with the tender intensity of the moment. 

A surge of emotion courses through you, and you can't help but marvel at the profound depth of his claim, wondering how he could have ever entertained a different belief.

Both of you lay there, breathless, the aftermath of passion lingering in the air as he collapses beside you on the bed. 

“That was... different,” you begin, a light chuckle dancing in your voice as you reflect on the shared experience. 

He turns his head, fixing you with a gaze filled with wonder, and in that vulnerable moment, he asks, “the good or bad kind?”

“Good,” you hum in a pleased voice, the resonance of satisfaction woven into the sound. 

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into his warm embrace, the weight of shared intimacy lingering in the air like a comforting embrace.

“But don't you dare choke me like that ever again!” you scold him, the anger palpable in the sting of your hand hitting his broad pectorals. 

“For a second, I thought you were going to kill me,” you assert in a stern voice, fixing him with an unwavering gaze. It's a moment of clarity, a line drawn in the aftermath of passion to communicate that his impulsive action was far from acceptable.

“I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me,” he breathes out in a slow and steady rhythm. In the dim room, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight seeping through the curtains, you can see his eyes glistening with remorse. 

The shadows dance around him, casting a poignant silhouette as he grapples with the weight of his actions.

“And how the fuck am I going to hide this damn bruise around my neck?” you exclaim, injecting a hint of mockery into your voice. Despite the lingering discomfort, you find a way to shift the atmosphere, attempting to move forward with a lighter mood.

“Make-up?” 

The word hangs in the air, accompanied by a shared chuckle that reverberates against his firm chest where your head rests. The idea of using makeup to conceal what is sure to be a vivid red and purple bruise in the morning seems both futile and amusing. 

Yet, there's a lighthearted acceptance in the laughter, a silent acknowledgment that this unexpected outcome doesn't overshadow the genuine connection shared.

You know deep down that he didn't mean to hurt you. There's a silent understanding that these moments of intensity are exceptions rather than the rule. 

As you lay there, contemplating the promise he made not to repeat such actions, a subtle determination lingers in the air. 

If, however unlikely, he breaks that promise, the unspoken agreement is clear — you'll kick his ass.

You skillfully concealed the bruise with a scarf, despite the summer heat outside. The thin fabric became a delicate shield, a secret shared between you and the material wrapped around your neck.

Almost a week has passed since that intense night, and your sweet and lovely Jungkook has gone above and beyond to express his apologies. 

Each day, he surprises you with thoughtful gestures—a homemade lunch, a meticulously prepared dinner, a drawn bath complete with your favorite movie and a glass of red wine. 

The list of his efforts seems endless. 

You find it endearing, although you can't help but think he doesn't need to try so hard.

It's been an exceptionally challenging week at work, grappling with unruly and disgruntled customers that seem to drain every ounce of your energy. 

The customer-friendly smile you diligently wear every day is wearing thin, the façade cracking under the weight of fatigue. 

Thankfully, the end of the week has arrived – a much-anticipated Friday. 

As you navigate through the final workday, you find solace in the prospect of a relaxing weekend awaiting you at home with your boyfriend.

As you insert the key into the lock of your shared apartment, a tantalizing aroma wafts through the air, instantly embracing you in the comforting warmth of a home-cooked meal. Could it be the savory allure of chicken bulgogi that tickles your senses? 

The enticing scent lingers, drawing you further into the heart of the space you both call home.

Guided by the enticing blend of sweet and spicy aromas, you step into the kitchen, where your boyfriend is immersed in the delicate art of preparing rice. 

The rhythmic sounds of culinary prowess fill the air, creating a harmonious backdrop. However, just as you begin to absorb the culinary symphony, an unexpected rustling emanates from the living room, causing you to cast a quizzical glance at Jungkook. 

“What was that?” you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

Rather than approaching Jungkook immediately, a sense of curiosity compels you to trace the source of the sound. 

As you move toward the living room, the unexpected appearance of Jimin catches you off guard. 

Your eyes widen, and a sudden stillness envelops you, freezing you in your tracks.

“Hello to you too,” Jimin chuckles, his warm smile working like a balm, easing the tension that had gripped your body. 

In his signature style, Jimin sports a plain white loose t-shirt paired with skin-tight black jeans, a combination that seems to be his go-to. 

Glancing back at your boyfriend, you can't help but notice the synchronicity—they're both dressed in identical outfits. 

A chuckle escapes you, amused by the frequent moments when they unwittingly end up matching.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” you inquire, returning to the kitchen. Jimin is busily arranging the table, deftly searching for glasses to complete the setup.

“Just hanging out,” Jimin smiles, effortlessly locating your wine glasses and elegantly setting them on the table.

“I invited him,” Jungkook's voice breaks the air behind you, and you respond with a knowing nod.

“Well, it's lovely to have you here,” you greet Jimin with a warm smile of your own. 

Turning your attention to both men, you offer, “Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, just sit down and relax, sweetheart,” Jungkook insists, his attention momentarily on the sizzling chicken bulgogi. 

“You've had a stressful week, and we'll take care of you, don't worry.” 

With a gentle smile, you comply, taking a seat at the table. As you ponder what your boyfriend means by ‘we'll take care of you,’ a hint of defiance creeps in – you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, you scoff.

Jimin skillfully pops open a bottle of red wine, handed from Jungkook, and proceeds to pour the rich liquid into your glass, filling it halfway. 

He repeats the ritual with the glasses flanking yours. As he takes a sip, a chuckle escapes his lips, but there's an underlying nervousness that catches your attention. 

Why is he nervous? 

It's just you and Jungkook, after all. You've shared countless meals together.

As you pick up on Jimin's subtle nervous energy, it seems like the air around you has gained an unexpected weight, each passing second heightening the tension. 

Grateful for the distraction, you watch as Jungkook and Jimin finish preparing the dinner, the enticing aroma of chicken bulgogi permeating the room. 

Your love for anything barbecued intensifies, and when Jungkook hands you a bowl filled with rice and succulent bulgogi, you eagerly accept, your mouth watering in anticipation.

Nestled between Jimin and Jungkook, a pleasant silence envelops the dining table. 

The air is filled with the rich aroma of the delicious meal your boyfriend prepared, creating a sensory symphony that adds to the warmth of the moment. As you savor each bite of the scrumptious food and enjoy a sip of wine, you find comfort in the easy companionship shared between you and your friend. 

As you savor the succulent bites of chicken bulgogi, a sense of ease settles over the dinner table. The fragrant steam rises from the plates, mingling with the clink of cutlery against porcelain. 

Lost in the flavors, you're momentarily caught off guard when a gentle hand finds its place on your thigh. 

At first, you assume it's Jungkook, but both of his hands are immersed in the meal. 

Yet, as you glance to your left, Jimin appears engrossed in his own plate. 

Another unexpected squeeze to your thigh jolts you, leaving you mystified. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can't help but wonder, what the heck is Jimin up to?

As you shoot Jimin stern glares, his attention remains frustratingly fixated elsewhere, completely indifferent to your silent warnings. 

Desperate for guidance, you shift your gaze toward Jungkook, hoping for a sign that he might catch on. 

However, it becomes apparent that he's oblivious to Jimin's subtle advances. 

Frustration wells within you as you grapple with the dilemma of how to address the situation without causing unnecessary tension.

Jimin's hand ventures further up your thigh, teetering on the edge of an intimacy that sends shivers cascading down your spine. 

Frustration and uncertainty knot in your stomach. 

Desperate to halt his advances, you clench your thighs together, silently pleading for him to retract without a spoken confrontation. 

Yet, your relief is short-lived as another pair of hands, unmistakably Jungkook's, seize your other thigh and coax your legs apart. 

Confusion sweeps over you, and you shoot a bewildered glance at your boyfriend. The room suddenly feels stifling, as if the temperature has skyrocketed, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

Jungkook's voice, laced with desire, urges, “Be a good girl, sweetheart,” his grip on your thigh tightening as he pulls it firmly against his own. 

Confusion still swirls in your mind, but any attempt to make sense of the situation is interrupted by Jimin's daring fingers, which find your clothed clit beneath the fabric of your dress. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, a vulnerable admission to the electric touch. The desire to close your legs intensifies, yet Jungkook remains insistent, parting them further. 

Closing your eyes, you summon the courage to meet your boyfriend's gaze. What you find are eyes—dark, blown out, brimming with a cocktail of lust, hunger, and a searing fire you've never witnessed before.

Jimin's fingers trace sinuous circles over your clothed clit, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin, a silent testament to the arousal that courses through you. 

The inherent wrongness of the situation is overshadowed by the rapid response of your body to his touch. 

It's an electrifying paradox – the knowledge that this should be wrong only intensifies the pleasure that unfurls within you, forcing you to admit, even if just to yourself, that there's an undeniable allure in the forbidden.

He delicately tugs at the hem of your panties, his gaze seeking permission, and he softly breathes, “Can I?” 

The question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation, a silent request that lingers between desire and consent, creating a moment pregnant with the promise of what's about to unfold.

Your eyes dart to your boyfriend, a silent plea for permission, though deep down, you know it's already granted. The room is thick with anticipation, a swirl of confusion and desire. 

You're caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unsure of how Jungkook is allowing Jimin to touch you this way. 

Yet, the undeniable heat pooling between your thighs pushes you past the confusion, craving the imminent release that hovers on the edge of reality.

Jungkook notices your internal struggle and, with a teasing glint in his eyes, urges you, “Use your words, sweetheart.” 

His voice is a husky whisper, adding to the charged atmosphere that crackles in the air. You feel the weight of his gaze, both demanding and encouraging, pushing you to vocalize the desires that dance on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, the sound echoing in the charged silence that envelops you. The weight of the word you're about to say hangs in the air, heavy with consequences that could reshape the dynamics of your relationship with Jimin. 

“Yes.”

He moves swiftly, skillfully pulling your panties to the side and grazing his fingers over your pulsating core. 

The raw desire in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the telltale signs of your arousal. 

As he remarks, “Damn, she's already so wet,” you involuntarily clench around nothing, surrendering to the rising tide of pleasure. 

Your eyes close, and you throw your head back in the chair, lost in the sensations coursing through your body, momentarily forgetting the world around you.

Jungkook's deep hums and light chuckles resonate beside you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your thigh as Jimin's skilled touch dances tantalizing circles on your clit. 

Your body becomes a paradox, simultaneously tense and pliant. 

Conflicting emotions surge within you—a cocktail of pleasure, guilt, and confusion. The dichotomy of their actions, the pleasure mingled with the unsettling reality that this is your friend, leaves you grappling with a tumultuous whirlwind of sensations. 

Their every touch sends sparks of desire through your conflicted body, a symphony of pleasure and moral questioning echoing in the room.

The wave of your impending orgasm crashes over you with an electrifying intensity, your breath catching in your throat as the sensation builds rapidly.

“I told you, Jimin,” Jungkook asserts, his gaze fixed on you, studying the way your body shivers. 

A sudden realization dawns upon you. 

Have they been discussing you? 

Confusion swirls within, yet a fresh surge of arousal grips you at the mysterious implication behind those words.

Jimin hums in agreement. 

“She's a slut,” Jungkook declares, his fingers exerting a firm squeeze on your thigh. 

The weight of the word hangs in the air, its impact sinking into the atmosphere, leaving you with a mix of discomfort and an unexpected thrill.

Shit. 

A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps through you, leaving you both turned on and uncertain. The proximity of Jungkook, his breath gently caressing your ear, sends electric shivers down your spine, heightening the intensity of the moment.

His words, a seductive command, resonate in your ear, setting your senses ablaze. “Be a good girl and come Jimin's fingers,” he urges, coaxing a frustrated moan from your lips. 

Unsure of what to do with your hands, you grip the table, the anticipation of pleasure and the forbidden adding to the electrifying tension in the air.

With each expert stroke of Jimin's fingers, the tension within you builds, reaching an explosive climax that leaves you trembling. 

Your toes curl involuntarily, and you bite down on your lip to stifle the primal sound threatening to escape. 

As your essence spills out, forming a pool on the chair, you find yourself gasping for air, the aftermath leaving you dazed and questioning the whirlwind of sensations that just unfolded.

Jimin's fingers embark on a sensual journey, tracing the contours of your most intimate place, their skilled movements leaving a trail of heightened anticipation. 

With a deliberate motion, he slips a finger inside, retrieving a sample of your essence. 

A wicked gleam in his eyes, he withdraws his hand and seductively brings his coated digits to his mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

An illicit wave washes over you as you witness the sinful spectacle. 

Your entire being shudders in response, caught between the allure of the forbidden and the intoxicating sensations that linger in the charged air.

“She tastes so sweet.” Jimin's husky voice cuts through the charged atmosphere as he licks his fingers with deliberate sensuality. 

The room hangs heavy with tension, and you can't deny the magnetic allure of his actions. It's not that you harbor romantic feelings for your friend, but you'd be lying if you claimed immunity to his undeniable attractiveness. 

The man is a vision of sin, wrapped in a package of irresistible allure, just like your loving boyfriend.

In an unexpected move, your boyfriend joins the sensual dance, his fingers seamlessly intertwining with Jimin's. 

Your body reacts with a jolt of surprise as Jungkook skillfully explores your most intimate places. 

Retrieving his fingers, he mirrors Jimin's actions, savoring the taste of your essence. 

The room pulses with an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation, leaving you breathless and caught in the whirlwind of their shared seduction.

“Hmm, you're absolutely right,” he purrs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “A perfect little slut.”

As the waves of pleasure subside, a gentle haze settles over your mind, leaving you in a blissful, slightly dizzy afterglow.

His husky voice, dripping with satisfaction, caresses your ear as he murmurs, “Good girls get rewarded,” coaxing another helpless moan from your lips.

Jimin and Jungkook rise simultaneously, offering you each a helping hand, guiding you towards the sanctuary of your bedroom. 

The conflicting emotions swirl within you—this should be wrong, yet in the magnetic pull of their presence, it feels irresistibly right. 

As they lead you, a comforting certainty blossoms, especially in the ease of Jungkook's demeanor. His calculated assurance hints at a carefully planned orchestration, tailored just for you.

As they guide you towards the bed, a synchronized dance unfolds. 

Jimin skillfully unzips the back of your dress and bra, revealing the vulnerable canvas beneath, while Jungkook, with a tantalizing pull, descends your panties. The orchestrated unveiling leaves you exposed, a willing participant in the unfolding symphony of desire.

Naked vulnerability envelops you as you stand before them, a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of a masterpiece. 

The uncertainty of the moment swirls around you like a tempest, and the uncharted territory of a threesome stirs a cocktail of nerves and arousal within you. 

Jungkook's apparent ease with the situation raises questions, casting a mysterious allure over the impending encounter.

“It’s okay princess. It’s just me. And Jimin,” his words wash over you like a soothing melody, a promise of tenderness in the midst of anticipation. 

The warmth in his eyes flickers with an unspoken promise, a shared secret between the three of you. 

As he hovers above you, a gentle chuckle dances through the air, a prelude to the uncharted journey ahead. 

“We're just going to take care of you, okay?” 

His voice, a lullaby of reassurance, invites you into the embrace of an unknown yet enticing adventure. You nod in agreement, the subtle taste of excitement mingling with the nervous bite of your lip, laying the foundation for what lies ahead.

“If there’s anything you don’t like, just say so.” 

As he speaks, an unwavering sincerity colors his words, a silent pledge to prioritize your comfort above all. The room becomes a canvas, painted with the shared vulnerability of this intimate encounter. 

As he stands, a subtle anticipation lingers in the air, setting the stage for what's to come. 

Your gaze instinctively falls, revealing a subtle bulge in his pants, a visual prelude to the unspoken desires in the room. 

In harmony, they both shed their layers, a symbolic unveiling that mirrors the unfolding intimacy. Jimin, stripped down to his boxers, gracefully enters the space above your head, a silhouette of desire against the backdrop of shared exploration.

Jungkook settles down on the floor and drags your body back down, so your ass is at the end of the bed. Giving him a perfect view of your dripping pussy, he licks his lips in anticipation. 

In a whisper of promise, Jungkook declares, “I'm going to get you nice and ready.” 

His tongue becomes a sensual artist, tracing an intricate path from your core to the delicate terrain of your clit. Your body quivers, a symphony of anticipation playing through your nerves. 

An instinct to shift on the bed is met with the unyielding strength of Jungkook's arms, firmly anchoring your thighs. 

The dance begins deliberately, a slow exploration that intensifies as two of his fingers join the exquisite journey, entering you with deliberate intent, creating a cadence that echoes the rising tempo of shared desire.

A soft moan escapes your lips as the sensation intensifies, and in the symphony of pleasure, you feel Jimin's warm hands caressing your cheeks, a gentle descent that maps the contours of your body until they reach your breasts. 

Your nipples, already responding to the charged atmosphere, stand erect beneath his touch, sending electric shivers through you.

As Jungkook quickens the pace of his fingers, delving in and out of you with a rhythmic precision, Jimin's lips trace a scorching path across your heated skin. 

The tender press of kisses ignites fires along your collarbones, leaving a trail of warmth that intensifies with every passing moment. 

Moving lower, he captures one nipple in his mouth, the contrast between the heated suction and the cool air sending thrilling sensations coursing through your body. 

The symphony of pleasure orchestrated by both men plays on, reaching new heights of fervor.

As your body arches slightly off the bed, a surge of pleasure courses through you, but Jungkook's firm grip keeps you anchored. 

With the addition of a third finger, a delicious stretching sensation sets in, intensifying the pleasure to new heights. His skilled attention on your clit persists, coaxing another orgasm to build, faster and more tantalizing than before. 

Your head becomes enveloped in a hazy cloud of ecstasy, and all you can do is surrender to the overwhelming waves of pleasure, expressing your bliss through unrestrained moans.

As Jimin decides he's lavished enough attention on the first nipple, he turns his focus to the other, taking it into his warm mouth and delicately tugging on the first one. The sensations are electrifying, an exquisite symphony of pleasure that envelops your senses. 

Each touch, each movement sends waves of ecstasy through your body, and in this moment, everything becomes an intoxicating blend of pleasure that leaves you utterly captivated.

Gasping, you confess, “I'm going to come again.” 

The intensity of pleasure courses through your body, causing your toes to curl and your stomach and pussy to clench in anticipation. The sensations are overwhelming, a symphony of ecstasy that leaves you teetering on the edge of blissful release.

In the throes of your release, Jungkook sucks passionately on your clit, sending shivers through your body. 

Simultaneously, Jimin bites down on your nipple, a teasing sensation that adds an electrifying edge to your pleasure. 

The combination is so intense that you can't help but feel like you'll get whiplash if they maintain this electrifying rhythm.

Jungkook's husky voice pierces through the haze of pleasure. 

“That's it, my good slut” he murmurs, maintaining a slow and deliberate pace with his fingers, syncing perfectly with the waves of your ebbing orgasm. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, and the edges of your vision blur as the intensity of the experience takes hold.

Jimin's appreciative words glide over your heightened senses. 

“She's incredibly responsive,” he observes, his hands skillfully teasing and massaging your breasts. Every touch sends shivers down your spine, amplifying the electrifying sensations that ripple through your body.

Your breaths come in frantic bursts, struggling to match the rhythm set by the two men. 

“Are you good?” Jungkook looks at you, his face glistening with your shared intimacy, an irresistible blend of passion and desire. 

His question hangs in the air, a subtle reminder that you're at the center of this whirlwind, and your response will fuel the flames of the already scorching atmosphere.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” 

The room crackles with an unspoken tension as your boyfriend rises, his boxer-clad arousal on full display. The subtle play of shadows across the fabric highlights every contour, a palpable promise of the passion about to unfold. 

Your gaze locks onto the prominent bulge, a visual cue that sets your pulse racing and stirs a magnetic attraction.

“I want to watch Jimin fuck you,” his words hang in the air, a daring proposition that sends a jolt of surprise through you. 

You glance at your boyfriend, questioning the audacity of such a suggestion. 

As he positions you in front of Jimin, the atmosphere thickens with an alluring tension.

Uncertainty blends with a heady anticipation, leaving you on the edge of curiosity and excitement. 

Would he really allow that? 

The room pulses with a forbidden thrill, an uncharted territory that beckons you to explore its depths.

His gaze meets yours, a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes. Before you can voice your confusion, he begins to unravel the tantalizing plan. 

“I want to watch Jimin take care of you,” he says with a wicked grin, sending a thrill down your spine. 

The unexpected proposal hangs in the air, leaving you both intrigued and slightly uneasy. As the gravity of his words sinks in, a rush of forbidden excitement courses through you.

In that moment, his kiss holds the weight of unspoken promises and secret desires. His lips, firm and demanding, leave you breathless and eager for more.

“Just like you've dreamt about,” he murmurs, his words a delicious blend of command and invitation. 

The air is charged with anticipation as you delve into a realm where fantasies transform into reality, and the boundaries between dreams and waking moments blur into an irresistible dance.

You gently cup his face in your hands, your touch a soothing balm to the storm within him. 

“You know they don't mean anything, Kook,” you reassure, your eyes locked onto his. 

In that intimate exchange, you share a silent understanding that transcends spoken words. Your love is an anchor, grounding him amidst the tempest of insecurities, and the depth of your connection speaks louder than any fleeting doubts.

His words hang in the air, a provocative promise that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

“No, none of that. When you dream like a slut, you're gonna get fucked like one,” he declares with a confident smirk, beckoning Jimin to step closer. 

The air is charged with anticipation as you gulp, fully aware that the night is about to unravel into an uncharted territory of pleasure and desire. 

The magnetic pull between you and the two men intensifies, creating an atmosphere where inhibitions fade away, leaving room only for the raw, unbridled passion that awaits.

Jimin confidently takes Jungkook's place, his sculpted physique accentuated by the dim glow of the room. 

Clad in nothing but boxers, a potent bulge strains against the fabric, hinting at the intense desire beneath. The air becomes charged with the unspoken promise of ecstasy, and you find yourself captivated by the raw allure emanating from Jimin's form. 

His eyes lock onto yours, a mischievous glint dancing within, as if he's ready to embark on an exhilarating journey through the realms of pleasure with you.

Your eyes briefly meet your boyfriend's, seeking reassurance and confirmation in the midst of this daring scenario. 

His expression, a mix of approval and anticipation, tells you everything you need to know. 

With a subtle nod, he grants his unspoken consent, fueling the intensity of the moment. The dynamics shift as Jimin steps forward, his presence commanding attention, and the unspoken agreement between the three of you creates a charged atmosphere, leaving you eager to explore the uncharted territories of pleasure.

“Just warm me up a bit before I fuck you, pretty,” 

Jimin's gaze intensifies, pupils dilating with raw desire, and as he discards the last barrier between his arousal and the impending encounter, his words drip with both seduction and anticipation. 

His request, a tantalizing promise of the passion about to unfold, hangs in the air like an electrifying prelude to an intimate symphony. 

As you grab Jimin's dick, you're captivated by the velvety warmth beneath your fingertips. 

His shorter, girthier form seems to pulse with its own heartbeat, a tangible embodiment of the passion that simmers between you. The weight of anticipation hangs in the air, and your mind becomes a canvas for vivid fantasies of the sensations he might evoke. 

Lost in the rhythm of your own movements, you inadvertently drift into a world where the imminent encounter promises both intensity and ecstasy, leaving you blissfully unaware of the passing moments.

As Jimin grins with a hint of mischief, he reassures you with a low, soothing voice, “It's alright, we'll take our time.” 

His anticipation mirrors yours, and as you guide him into your hand, you find a newfound focus. With a subtle yet daring move, you moisten his throbbing length with a well-timed spit, creating an intimate connection that heightens the shared desire between you. 

As Jungkook positions himself behind you, a wave of anticipation courses through your body. 

His lips graze your neck, teasingly gentle, before he surprises you with a nibble that ignites a delicious shiver down your spine. The sensation lingers as he moves to suck on the tender spot, claiming it as his own. 

His actions are both possessive and tender, a contrast that electrifies your senses. Each deliberate movement on your neck serves as a tantalizing prelude, building the atmosphere of shared desire between you.

Jimin swiftly decides that your warm-up has served its purpose, though truth be told, the urgency in his demeanor suggests he was ready from the start. His arousal is palpable, a testament to the anticipation that has been building between you.

“On all fours, pretty,” in a delicate dance of desire, Jimin guides you onto all fours with a firm yet gentle touch. 

The shift in position unveils a vulnerability that sends a shiver down your spine. As you face your boyfriend, the air thickens with a mix of anticipation and shared intimacy. His gaze, filled with both love and arousal, provides a reassuring anchor in this uncharted territory.

On hands and knees, your ass is presented to Jimin, a canvas for the desires that linger in the room. The contrast between the tender smile your boyfriend offers and the hungry gaze in Jimin's eyes creates a captivating tension.

“Condom?” 

In response to Jimin's inquiry, Jungkook moves with purpose, delving into the contents of your nightstand. 

From its depths, he retrieves a condom—an unexpected addition to your usual routine. 

In your five years with Jungkook, such precautions were seldom necessary, relying instead on the reliability of birth control and the familiarity that time had etched into your relationship. 

Yet, in this charged moment, the condom becomes a symbol of caution, a tangible acknowledgment of the unexpected twist this night has taken. 

As Jungkook hands it to Jimin, the air hums with a blend of curiosity and arousal. The foil tears open with a promise, and the unrolling of the condom onto Jimin's dick echoes with a subtle shift in the dynamics.

Jimin's hands cradle the curves of your ass, his touch both tender and possessive. 

His eyes, filled with concern and desire, lock onto yours, seeking affirmation in the depths of your gaze.

“Are you good? Is it okay?” he asks, his voice a breathy murmur that hangs in the charged air. The weight of the question adds a layer of intimacy, as if he's not only seeking permission for the physical act but also ensuring the well-being of your emotions in this uncharted territory.

You nod, a silent agreement, your breath hitching with a mix of anticipation and reassurance.

“You have to use your words, sweetheart, otherwise Jimin isn’t going to fuck you.” 

He whispers, his warm breath caressing your skin. Jungkook's touch on your cheek is feather-light, a stark contrast to the weight of his words that hang in the charged atmosphere. His fingers, tracing the contour of your lips, carry a subtle demand for your verbal affirmation.

“I’m ready.”

As you close your eyes, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions dances in the darkness behind your lids. 

The journey you've embarked upon feels like an irreversible tide, sweeping away the boundaries you once held dear. The nagging sense of wrongness, a lingering echo of societal norms, clashes with the electric current of desire coursing through your veins. 

In this twilight of uncertainty, you ponder the enigma that is your boyfriend's decision to share you with a friend. 

The possessiveness that usually defines him has given way to a new, uncharted territory of shared pleasure. It's a paradoxical blend of arousal and apprehension, and you can't help but wonder how deep this rabbit hole goes.

As Jimin's throbbing cock meets the threshold of your entrance, a charged moment hangs in the air. 

His fingers gently part your cheeks, creating a canvas for the intimate dance about to unfold. The anticipation builds with each tantalizing tease, as the velvet heat of his head grazes your most intimate space, leaving a trail of heated promises. 

With a deliberate slowness, Jimin breaches the sanctuary of your warmth. The gradual descent of his hardness into the depths of your essence paints a vivid picture of shared intimacy. 

As Jimin delves deeper into the cavern of your pussy, a symphony of sensations reverberates through your being. Your moans, a harmonious melody, intertwine with the rhythm of your shared breaths. 

With each inch he claims, you instinctively brace against Jungkook's hips, seeking grounding amidst the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Jimin's girth, an uncharted territory, tests the limits of your accustomed boundaries. 

Yet, the abundant slickness of desire acts as a lubricated guide, easing the journey into an intoxicating dance of connection. The initial stretch, a transient discomfort, is eclipsed by the growing pleasure, a testament to the fluidity of passion and the resilience of your desire-soaked essence.

“Fuck she’s tight!” 

His husky exclamation punctuates the charged air, echoing the tight embrace your core provides. A transient pause follows, as he relishes the depth of connection achieved. In the subsequent languid retreat, every inch of his withdrawal sends tremors of anticipation through your form.

With an emphatic thrust, he surges back into you, a forceful rhythm established from the outset. The intensity of his movements forces your head to bow, a testament to the powerful impact that each plunge delivers. 

The heightened depth of penetration elicits a cascade of sensations, a symphony of pleasure and surrender that resonates with each successive collision.

In the throes of passion, you're a symphony of moans and pants, completely undone by Jimin's fervent movements within you. The intensity of the experience has you lost in a haze of pleasure. 

Just when you think the sensations couldn't escalate any further, you sense Jungkook adjusting his position, a silent promise of more to come.

His gaze on you is intense, devouring every nuance of your response as if committing it to memory. The dark, lustful hunger in his eyes is unmistakable, mirroring the rhythm of Jimin's thrusts. With a seductive confidence, he begins stroking himself, amplifying the erotic spectacle. 

As Jimin continues to plunge into you with a relentless rhythm, you steal a glance at your boyfriend, whose eyes are locked on the explicit scene before him. 

The realization hits you like a tidal wave — he's not just allowing this; he's reveling in the erotic image unfolding in front of him. 

The unexpected turn of events has you reflecting on the twists and turns of desire, leaving you in awe of the unfolding passions that have brought you to this surreal moment.

Inching closer, Jungkook traces a teasing path along your cheek with his finger, a silent invitation. The tension in the room heightens as you catch his unspoken request. Sensing the anticipation, you willingly part your lips, ready for the intimate connection that's about to unfold.

As you take him into your mouth, a soft moan escapes his lips, and he praises you, “That's a good girl.” 

The warmth of your mouth, combined with the intimate act, elicits a hiss of pleasure from him. 

As Jimin maintains the rhythm of his rapid thrusts, a low hum escapes his lips, a primal sound that resonates with the intensity of the moment. “Yeah.”

Jungkook's voice, laced with desire, breaks through the heated air as he urges you, “Just know who you belong to.” 

His words hang in the room, a possessive reminder of the intimate connection shared between you two. As he fights to restrain himself, the anticipation builds, heightening the intensity of the moment before you take him into your mouth again.

His concern echoes in your ears as Jungkook whispers, “Say if it's too much, and we can stop anytime.” 

The sincerity in his voice reflects a genuine care for your comfort, creating a tender contrast to the passionate atmosphere that surrounds you. It's a reminder that, despite the intensity, your boundaries are respected and valued.

As you hum in agreement, the vibrations from your mouth send a tantalizing sensation through Jungkook's cock, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from him. 

“You’re taking me so well, pretty,” in the midst of the intense pleasure, Jimin's praise resonates in the air, heightening the sensations. 

As you clench around him in response, the struggle to balance Jimin's relentless pace and attending to Jungkook's needs becomes apparent. 

Feeling the need to address the moment, you pop off Jungkook’s dick, a breathless pause hanging in the air before you speak.

“Please fuck my mouth,” as your plea for more intensifies, your eyes lock with your boyfriend's, a mixture of desire and need reflected in your gaze. 

Without a second thought, he responds eagerly, thrusting his dick back into your mouth, the air filled with the sounds of your shared passion and the unrestrained symphony of pleasure unfolding.

“Such a dirty slut,” as the explicit words tumble from his lips, your senses are heightened, the raw intensity of the moment swirling around you. 

Each forceful thrust sends shivers down your spine, a delicate dance between pleasure and a hint of pain. 

Tears glisten in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you. Your jaw aches, but you persevere, determined to please him and surrender to the ecstasy of the shared experience.

As the intensity of their movements builds, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of desire, surrendering to the rhythmic chaos they orchestrate. 

The speed and force leave you breathless, and you resign yourself to the overwhelming pleasure they provide. Your gaze flickers upward, connecting with your boyfriend's eyes, which mirror a cocktail of desire and ecstasy. His furrowed brow betrays the impending climax, a visual symphony playing out as you navigate the tempestuous pleasure they bestow upon you.

As Jimin's breath intertwines with the rhythm of your collective passion, you notice a subtle deceleration in his movements. Each pant resonates with the echoes of desire, a brief respite in the storm of sensations that engulf you. 

“Fuck. I’m not gonna last long,” as Jimin's fervent pace quickens, his ragged breaths become a symphony of impending release. 

The slap on your ass, a visceral punctuation to his words, reverberates through the room.

As you moan, the vibrations reverberate through Jungkook's throbbing length, intensifying the sensations for both of you. 

An overwhelming sense of fullness consumes you, your senses heightened as the anticipation of another impending orgasm courses through your entire being. It's a crescendo building within, promising an intense release that echoes the passion-filled moments leading up to it. 

Your body, already well-acquainted with pleasure tonight, braces itself for the impending explosion of ecstasy, ready to succumb to the relentless waves of bliss.

“Are you gonna come soon, pretty?” 

Jimin's voice, a seductive whisper in your ear, heightens the tension in the room. 

Your response, a throaty moan around your boyfriend's cock, sends a clear signal of the impending release building within you. 

Jungkook, caught in the throes of passion, improvises by gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, a gesture both possessive and intimate, “I think that was a yes, Jimin.”

In the heat of the moment, your body responds instinctively to Jimin's touch. 

As his skilled finger traces enticing circles around your clit, you arch your back, a silent plea for more. The pleasure becomes an overwhelming crescendo, pushing you to the brink. 

It's a delicate dance on the precipice of ecstasy, and every stroke of Jimin's finger feels like it might be the one to tip you over the edge. The tension builds, and you're left teetering on the verge, caught between desire and the imminent release that hovers just out of reach.

In the throes of passion, Jungkook's hands explore your body with an intimate familiarity. His touch is both possessive and tender as he effortlessly finds your breasts. 

A surge of pleasure courses through you when he pinches both of your nipples simultaneously, intensifying the sensations that already have you on the edge. In that moment, it's as if every nerve ending in your body is attuned to his every movement, creating a symphony of desire that leaves you breathless and yearning for more.

“Mmmhpf!” your scream morphs into a muffled mon as Jungkook's sizable cock fills your mouth completely, stifling any coherent sound. The sensation is overwhelming, the weight and heat of him stretching your limits.

Your body trembles, legs threatening to give way as an electrifying current courses through you. Gratefully, Jimin secures a firm grip on your hips, ensuring your stability as he relentlessly fucks into you. 

“Fuck!” he exclaims, the raw intensity of the moment etched across his face as you continue to pulsate around him.

Jungkook continues to stroke your cheeks, a mixture of tenderness and dominance, as he relentlessly takes control of your mouth. 

“Such a good girl,” his words echo through the fog of pleasure and the deafening symphony of sensations. 

The ringing in your ears intensifies, drowning out the world around you. 

If your eyes were open, the overwhelming intensity might blind you, yet behind closed lids, your vision blurs, and you surrender to the whirlwind of ecstasy that consumes every inch of your being.

“Where do you want me to come?” Jimin's ragged breaths are punctuated by the question that hangs in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His words, a sultry request, echo through the room, leaving you with a sense of anticipation that lingers in the charged atmosphere.

“On her ass,” Jungkook’s words cut through the heated haze, a directive that adds a new layer of intensity to the already fervent atmosphere. 

The command is uttered with a possessive authority, leaving no room for hesitation. 

As the waves of ecstasy gradually recede, your senses awaken to a heightened state of sensitivity. Every touch, every brush of air against your skin becomes an electrifying caress. 

The aftermath of pleasure leaves you in a vulnerable state, your body still pulsating with the residual echoes of pleasure. 

As Jimin withdraws from the intimate space of your pussy, a sense of emptiness lingers momentarily. 

The subtle sounds of the discarded condom hitting the floor echo the intensity of the moment just shared. 

Then, a tender touch graces your curves as Jimin's hand and warmth retrace the contours of your skin. The rhythmic strokes against his own arousal paint a vivid soundscape, creating a sensual symphony in the dimly lit room. 

The culmination of his pleasure manifests in a cascade of white, anointing your skin in an intimate ritual. His gentleness, juxtaposed against the raw intensity that preceded, leaves you suspended in a fragile moment of post-climactic intimacy.

As Jimin relinquishes the reins, he utters a breathy proclamation, “She's all yours.” 

Seated with an aura of confident dominance, his gaze becomes a spectator to the captivating scene unfolding before him. Your body, an exquisite canvas of desire, moves to the rhythm of Jungkook's fervent thrusts. 

In the symphony of moans and erratic breaths, Jungkook's voice cuts through the air like a possessive crescendo. 

“Always was, always will be,” he declares, his words saturated with a possessiveness that hangs thick in the room. 

The intensity of his thrusts, the raw edge in his voice, and the audacity of sharing you with another - it all collides, creating a complex tapestry of desire and dominance. 

It's a moment that begs the question: how did this man, usually unwavering in his ownership, allow another to partake in this intimate dance with you?

As Jungkook withdraws, his release splatters across your face, a sudden, unexpected warmth that catches you off guard. 

It's a deviation from the anticipated script, but the unpredictable nature of the act only adds to the charged atmosphere. The mixture of surprise and satisfaction dances across your features, leaving a visual echo of the intimate exchange that just transpired. 

As the remnants of their passion linger on your flushed skin, Jungkook's husky voice pierces the air. 

“Such a good slut,” he commends, his fingers tracing a path from your face down to your parted lips, smearing the evidence of his cum into your warm mouth. It's a bold assertion, a tangible connection that blurs the lines between pleasure and possession.

Exhaustion washes over you like a gentle wave, pulling you into the depths of relaxation. The weight of your spent body sinks into the bed, every muscle tingling with a satisfying ache. 

Your eyelids surrender to the soothing darkness, shutting out the remnants of a night that pushed the boundaries of pleasure. 

As you recline in the afterglow, the room echoes with the melody of your contented moans—a symphony of fulfillment. 

Soft warmth caresses your skin, pulling you gently from the depths of slumber. 

The sensation on your face and ass registers—two warm towels, meticulously sweeping away the remnants of a heated encounter.

Jungkook's careful touch graces your face, tenderly gliding over delicate features, while Jimin mirrors the gesture below, cleansing away the traces of their shared passion.

Gentle hands guide you, rolling your body onto your back, a synchronized ballet of care. 

They delicately part your legs, like pages in a book, unveiling the aftermath of shared desire. 

Your voice, a tender moan, escapes in response to their comforting touch, an involuntary melody that lingers in the air—a testament to the intimacy woven into this moment of post-passion tenderness.

Jungkook's voice, a soft caress, breaks through the hazy aftermath. 

“Hi, princess,” he murmurs, his words a gentle acknowledgment of the shared journey. The tenderness in his tone weaves a comforting cocoon around you, a warmth that lingers in the air. 

“You did so good,” he adds, his praise a soothing balm to the vulnerability that lingers after the storm of passion.

Beside him, Jimin hums in agreement, a low vibration that echoes the lingering intimacy in the room. 

“Want to take a shower?” his proposal lingers in the air, a suggestion weighted with the promise of cleansing away not just the physical residue but also the shared moments of illicit pleasure. 

As he glances between you and Jungkook, a silent consensus seems to pass, the unspoken agreement palpable in the subtle nods that bridge understanding between the three of you.

With words caught in the aftermath of passion, you resort to a nod – a subtle affirmation that echoes the complexity of emotions swirling within you.

“We can clean you up better there,” Jungkook says as they lead you towards the bathroom, a sanctuary where water promises both cleansing and renewal, you find yourself caught in the juxtaposition of sensations. 

Their touch, once a tempest of passion, now guides you with a tenderness that belies the intensity that transpired moments ago.

As you navigate the path to the bathroom, a surreal blend of emotions courses through you. 

Physically, you're aware of the lingering sensations, a testament to the shared moments that unfolded. 

However, beyond the tangible, there's a current of emotions, complex and uncharted. 

The paradox of feeling overwhelmed and yet fulfilled creates a tapestry of conflicting sentiments. 

The uncertainty that shrouds the future of your relationship with Jungkook and the dynamics with Jimin remains, but for now, in the cocoon of the present, there's an undeniable aura of bliss, an amalgamation of love and adoration that fills every inch of your being.

What do you think? It got a lot longer than I expected, sorry. I can't write anything short...

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #park jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #pjm smut #pjm x reader #pjm x you

[equalseleventhirds]

been thinking thoughts and i think... if a horror story is not a love story then i have trouble getting into it

i don't mean a horror story with a romantic plotline going on alongside it. i don't even necessarily mean romantic love at all. i mean like, the horror should also be love, u kno? adoration within abomination. and terror within love, of course.

#still catching up on work but i am Thoughts abt why so little horror appeals to me #yeah i've contemplated gentleness of stories but like. ALSO this. #i see so many horror podcast recs and i am so reluctant to try them bcos my tastes are SO specific #will try to expand on this later but like. monsters who love and love which is monstrous yfm? #not monsterfuckers (it can be if done right but that's not often what i'm after) #but like. idk i'll do words later.

[getitinbusan]

Jungkook 

Your phone kept buzzing, the incessant noise trying to come between you and your sleep was infuriating.

5 Missed calls, unknown number, there was only one way to get it to stop.

"What on earth could be so important?" You questioned without knowing who was on the other end.

 "Good morning babe, are you ready for me?" The cocky voice asked.

 "How the fuck did you get my personal number Jungkook?"

He laughed, "Namjoon gave it to me, I told him about our last encounter and he was pretty impressed that we shared the same taste in women"

It was your turn to laugh,  "So hookers?"

You could hear him sigh.

"Listen, I thought we really had something together the other day. I'd like to take you out on a real date"

You felt your heart flutter, he was pretty much the perfect man. You could see a future with him and it scared you.

"Sorry Kookie, I don't need a boyfriend," and you hung up.  

Y/N: Fuck you Joon, never give anyone my number.  

Joon: You know who he is right? Kids got a ton of money and is going to break onto the scene any minute. I thought maybe it would be a new path for you, how much more of this shit can you take? We've been doing this a long time, I can feel you leaving your body when we fuck,  you aren't happy Y/N. 

Y/N: Jesus, is it that bad Joon? 

Joon: You're still the best fuck in town, but yeah. He really likes you, maybe give it a shot. You'd be set for life and we could still have sex behind his back.  

Y/N: I really don't know why, but I love you Joon. 

Days went by and Jungkook never called back,  it was probably for the best.

Jin tried to book you but you told the agency you were done with him and to send someone else.

Maybe it was time for a new career, or maybe it was time to settle into a mediocre relationship,  you'd saved a little money, you could always just skip town.

As you sat contemplating your next move you got a text from the agency.  

A: Trimage #746 @8:30. First time customer, virgin male. Will send a car to pick up.

Y/N: Is this legit? It's not Taehyung trying to get me back with a false order? How many rich horny guys are there in that building? 

A: Checked out. Taehyung stopped calling a few weeks ago. Gave up after we told him you didn't want to see him anymore.  

Y/N: Has he ordered someone else? 

A: No, paid his account off and that was it.  

Your heart felt split open again when you thought about your last night with him. He was gentle and kind, he didn't even care if you had sex with him.

BUT… you told yourself,  he left you there alone after, he ran away, he made you feel things he wasn't ready to commit to. Shaking it off, you went and showered for your next appointment.  

The car dropped you off in the underground and you made your way up in the elevator. A few knocks to the door and you were left in surprise when Jungkook opened it to greet you. 

"I know your playing hard to get but I also know you still think of me inside you.

When Joon was fucking you, you wanted it to be me."

You're head was dizzy, feeling blindsided you weren't sure which way to steer this.  He felt dominating, it had shown through a bit last time but wasn't he a virgin? 

Stepping toward him you'd figure his game.

"So, you like to play innocent and naïve, pretend you have no experience in bed and then wow em with your skills huh Jungkook with the golden cock?"

He laughed at your quick summation of his agenda.

"Doesn't everyone have an angle, a game, a strange addiction?" he said tucking your hair behind your ear.

"So if this is just a fantasy game Jungkook, what's the real story? What are you escaping from? I've heard you've got everything, what do you need me for?" 

He stopped,  he was trying to figure out what you wanted to hear.

"Honestly Y/N, I just really enjoyed fucking you and I thought maybe we could do it because we like each other and not because I'm paying you."

You smiled at his admission, finally cutting through the bullshit.  

You both lunged forward toward each other and began pulling clothes off as you made your way up the hall. By the time you got to the bedroom you were both completely bare,  pushing you back on the bed he laid on top of you.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, you've fucking wrecked me for anyone else. I just need to get off and then I'll fucking eat you till your pussy's raw."

He was fucking growling with desire when he pushed his cock straight into you. He was rough,  fucking you so hard his whole bed shook.

Freezing, he pulled out, "suck my cock, I want to fuck your face."

Doing as you were told, you took him in your mouth, you rocked your body back and forth gaining speed until he was hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm going to fucking cum, can I cum on you?"

As you moaned in agreeance he shot his load all over your face. He handed you his t shirt to wipe yourself off when his phone rang. 

Answering all you heard was "shit, thanks" turning to you mortified, he began throwing your clothes at you "you've gotta go, like now, my girlfriends on her way up."

 You didn't move, you were 100% done with this.

Slowly reaching for your clothes you really couldn't believe this is what your life had become.

"Hurry up, get the fuck out, she'll kill me" he was in a frenzie trying to pull together the disheveled bed.

Taking your time and glaring at him as you zipped yourself up you heard her keys as she entered the apartment.  He ran out closing the bedroom door behind him sealing you inside.

You could hear him cooing at her in the other room, what a fucking asshole. 

Owing him nothing, you walked out and handed her his shirt full of cum, "Sorry about the sheets" you let yourself out and headed for the elevator.  

It was decision time, your finger hovered over the elevator panel, were you going up or down?  

#jungkook #bts #kookie #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #bts scenarios #nochu #gcf #bts gcf #bts smut #guk #bts nochu #jungkook smut #army #bts fic #namjoon #gukkie #v #kim taehyung #bts taehyung

[dorotheajanegilmore]

Devil’s Daughter

Previous: 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,

Chapter seven

I had been staying with the Winchester's for just over two weeks now. My purple case looked great against the brown walls of the guest room, really made it feel like home.

The first night I stayed at the bunker (Before visiting parents in NY)

"Sorry it's so plain." Sam has said when he first brought me in here.

I shrugged. "It's much better than my dorm."

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah I know how ya feel. Stanford."

"NYU." I admitted and he nodded with an impressed face. "Creative writing."

"Law."

I cringed. "Smarty pants."

Instantly an attractive smile broke out across his face and he shook his head, blushing wildly. "No. I never graduated."

"I don't think I will either, at least not yet." I told him truthfully.

"I hope that decision isn't because of us? I know how it feels to have your studies cut short and if I could go back..." Sam paused before he shook his head, laughing at himself. "I actually wouldn't go back."

I laughed at his honestly and shook my head. "No, I've been contemplating dropping out for a while. This whole angels exhausting and paternity testing is just the push I needed."

"Right." Sam wondered over to the bed and sat down beside me. He looked at me with a face of concern. "How are you feeling? Honestly."

"Honestly?" I asked and he nodded. I let out a deep breath, letting my shoulder sink. "I feel...like it's not real. I haven't thought about too deeply or really acknowledged it properly. I know that's not healthy but I just don't know how to accept this. My family life has always been rocky, my mother hates me."

Sam recoiled and pulled an offended face, as if I had just delivered a blow to his stomach. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you." I knew that his situation was difficult at the moment. Dean told me that their mother was trapped in some sort of apocalypse world.

"Don't defend her, I promise. You'll see tomorrow, she hates me." I emphasised it again but he shook his head, not having it. I decided to just continue because there was no way in changing his mind. "So, how did Dean recover so quickly? Those guys tortured him too."

Sam shifted on the bed and adjusted his watch on his wrist. He was clearly uncomfortable the way he was sat because his legs are way longer than mine and even my legs ached. We were both sat criss cross and I couldn't take it any longer.

I moved to sit at the edge of the bed, Sam sighing in relief and copying me as he answered. "Castiel healed him. Dean was supposed to save you from those guys but they ended up injecting and torturing him too. Demons aren't really fond of us, we've made a name for ourselves as hunters and they didn't know he was working with Crowley."

I nodded understandingly. I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought about asking the next question. My curiosity got the better of me and so I asked. "Did you, do you and Dean think I'm evil?"

Sam thought for a moment, before gently taking my smaller hand in his larger one. "I won't lie to you. When Rowena told us that Lucifer had a daughter and we needed her help...I definitely believed you to be evil. I thought that we were gonna find you at a bar murdering people or eating babies." Sam laughed at that last part.

“Why eating babies?" I tilted my head to look at him, confused as to where he'd get that from.

"Because ya'know, Lilith eats babies? At least in mythology and all of my text books-"

As Sam rambled on I looked down at the ground. I had forgot about Lilith being my true mother, I was so busy worrying about the devil I forgot about his first demon.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Sam put a gentle hand on my shoulder and I shook my head.

"It's not your fault, Sam. I just can't believe I'm not a product of Christian and Rose. That Hallie and Alex aren't my blood related siblings. They'll always be my family, regardless of what a test says but I had that I don't have an actual connection to them. I hate that my blood isn't their blood. I hate that my blood is...evil." I sobbed as the word evil left my mouth.

Sam shook his head and wrapped his big arms around me, pulling me into him for a supporting hug. I cried into his red plaid chest as he held me tight. "You're not evil, Elle."

"You don't (hicup) know that!" I shook my head, feeling him hold me tighter. He began to rub his palm up and down my back, as if he was soothing a crying baby.

"No I don't, you're right. But if raising Jack has taught me anything, it's that we can't make quick assumptions."

———

Present day

(Two weeks living in the bunker)

I sat in the library with a book under my nose. Every waking moment of the passed week has been spent reading up on Lucifer, and learning my powers.

So far I have discovered my psionic energy blasts can be used in blasts, streams, waves and bolts to move things, lift and even throw things. Allowing me to hit, push or pull a target, potentially exerting enough force to destroy them. I had also improved my telepathy, I can control when to and when not to listen to thoughts so I could actually focus now.

As I was reading about Lucifer's cage I felt a presence enter the room. I was already on edge from all of the reading, Satan's not a happy guy. Feeling threatened I spotted a pair of scissors on the end of the table and used my new found powers to lift them up and send them at the person watch me.

As I span around, hands glowing red I realised who it was. Dean was stood at the door with wide eyes and hands held up in the air alarmed.

The blade of the scissors, surrounded by red wisps, hovered just inches away from his neck.

"I didn't mean to scare you, little red." He pushed the scissors away with his index finger. They landed in the floor with a snap and I sighed in relief.

"Dean, sorry about that." I felt immediate relief, so happy that it was him and not some creature I had been reading about. I cringed, hoping he wouldn't be to mad at me. "I'm reading about monsters so I'm a bit on edge.

"A bit?" He smirked, amused. He pulled out a seat opposite me at the table and sat down. "Is that why I was nearly executed in my own home?"

I nodded and slid the book over to him. I pointed at a paragraph and he quickly skimmed over it. It said;

The powers of a nephilim would be to great to raise such a creature on earth among mortals. A human woman could never contain a baby nephilim for very long as it could tear them apart. A nephilim will grow at rapid speeds, much faster than a human woman's body could contain. Once born a nephilim will reach adulthood within a matter of hours.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, confirming that the information in front of me was in fact correct. "Jack was born and within twenty minutes he looked like he was twenty years old.

"So how come I have baby photos? Actual picture evidence of me growing through the years. Every birthday party photo shows a year of progression. Am I slow? Am I broken?"

Dean chuckled at my outburst and shook his head. "Elle, there's never been an angel, demon cocktail baby. You're the first. Perhaps Lilith's genes are much slower."

"Or." Came a Scottish voice from the doorway. Rowena stood with a mischievous smile on her face as she danced her way over to the table.

"Perhaps I did a wee spell to aid in your human growth. I was there when Lucifer chose your parents and he made sure that Rose would be strong enough to encapsulate you for nine months, not to raise your relatives eyebrows at a two month unholy pregnancy. The spell made sure that Lucifer's child would grow as a normal human until she reached adulthood, then her powers would slowly blossom. That's why it's important that we found you." She lifted her martini up as if to cheers us before taking a large sip.

"I thought you want me to put him in a cage?" I raised a brow, wondering why she was adding to her story now.

Rowena shrugged. "That’s for the after party. Once we’ve rescued Mary from the apocalypse world, you and Jackie boy can work together to put him in a new cage, a stronger sturdier cage. Come on, had I told you this earlier you would’ve been overwhelmed and scared away. We need you, Red.”

Dean shook his head and pushed the book away. "Damn it, Rowena! Any other information you'd care to share?"

Rowena bit her lip and tapped her finger against her chin in thought. ”Aside from Lucifer wanting Jack and Elle back? No, not that I can think off.”

Next: 7

Tags: @lilulo-12 @vicmc624

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x ofc #x ofc #x reader #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #castiel #rowena #lucifer #mary winchester #dean winchester x reader

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

Pt. 9

Han Jisoo was true to her word and within a week she called HEET and Woojin in for a meeting. The purpose of the meeting was to tell them that Guerin would be reinstated as their manager, and that Woojin would be staying on as an assistant. Woojin had already been briefed, but he was better at keeping a straight face than Guerin so she had to wait outside the room or the boys would know before Jisoo got to announce it.

Once Guerin heard a ruckus inside the room she knew it was okay to open the door and peek her head in, beaming at the scene that greeted her. Jisoo was laughing at the surprised reactions of her boy group, taken with their joy. Minhwan had jumped up and was hugging Gabriel and Woojin, the latter being a less willing participate in the spritely jumping around of the other two but still smiling. Seungbin was standing and asking if it was real and not a prank, Byoungjin had his hand buried in his face, likely starting to cry while Tobio crooned to him and comforted him. In a split second that changed as soon as they saw her coming through the door and she was rushed by her boys all speaking and shouting indecipherably at once.

She bounced around with them and couldn't help shedding a few happy tears herself, so relieved that this part of her life could return to normal finally and moved by everyone's reaction.

Once everyone had calmed down and reseated themselves, Seungbin had tried to sit on Guerins lap but she redirected him to his chair reminding him that it was a professional meeting. He settled for pulling his chair close to her and holding her arm while resting his head on her shoulder. No one had the heart to tell him to stop.

After the meeting Minhwan suggested they all get dinner to celebrate once their lessons and practice were over. Jisoo politely declined attending but handed over the company card to Guerin in support. Guerin resisted hugging her friend and instead bowed deeply with all the boys following suit.

"Noona, are you going to invite Wow-hyung to dinner with us too?" Byoungjin asked as Guerin escorted them back to their practice room.

"No!" Seungbin said quickly before Guerin had a chance to respond. She gave him a curious look before speaking into the silence that his abrupt interruption had caused.

"I was going to say that I think this is a team celebration so we should keep it to us."

"Seungbin, don't be rude. You need to apologize." Minhwan chastised the younger boy in true leader fashion.

Seungbin's eyes were on the floor, "I'm sorry Noona..."

She didn't respond right away but did give him a head pat and a smile as he looked up at her from under her hand. Once they were in the practice room Guerin cleared her throat, getting everyone's attention.

"I think we should talk really quickly before you all start." She looked at each of them, "Wow is my boyfriend. I like him a lot. All of A.C.E are my friends. But HEET are my boys. I love you all so very much and I'm always rooting for you first. I might have to balance my personal life a bit differently, but know that my love for you hasn't changed." Tobio remained largely expressionless per usual, Byoungjin looked curious, Minhwan was nodding, Gabriel had a slightly disbelieving look, Woojin looked uncomfortable as though he had been caught eavesdropping and Seungbin looked conflicted.

"I'm sorry Noona... it's just that... we just got you back and he's been with you this whole time..." Seungbin rubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor as he looked down.

"I understand. And you'll have enough of me around soon enough since we're getting back to normal. It was hard for me to be apart from you, and Kim Seyoon was a part of that support to help me get through it. All of you make me so happy, his is just a different kind of happy." She caught Gabriel hiding a laugh at her last comment.

"Oh shut up you know what I mean." She scolded him in English, unconvincingly because she had to fight to hide a laugh too.

"What I really want to say," she continued, "is to please not hold any grudges with him or any of A.C.E. Just like you don't with Charlie. And if you feel sad, worried or insecure you can talk to me. Don't bottle it up okay? And don't judge Wow unfairly." She finished.

A smattering of nods and words of affirmation from HEET were enough for her for now.

"Okay, let me see what you've been working on!" She clapped her hands and walked over to the music player with Woojin while HEET scurried to get warmed up.

"You still haven't had sex?" Charlie hissed.

Guerin shushed her, looking around quickly, "Just because we're speaking English doesn't mean we should assume people won't understand, or record and translate."

"I was quiet, but more importantly are you dying?" Charlie looked at Guerin with concern and held a hand to her forehead. Guerin groaned and rested her head on the table.

"Yeah I think I am." Her respond was muffled and tragic.

The two girls were in a small bakery sharing a piece of cake. It had been a couple days since their respective dates, Seyoon and Jun were busy as their fan project had been released and they had some schedules pertaining to that.

"You know how much effort I've put into making that situation happen for me and you have your own place and it is WASTED on you." Charlie feigned anger at the top of her friends head.

"I know." Guerin turned her head to the side to stare absently out the window, watching a young woman sitting on a bench outside on her phone. Charlie changed tactics and patted Guerin on the head encouragingly.

"We can see them again soon. You can try again!"

Guerin sighed and forced herself to sit up, "I'm not really worried. We'll get there eventually. But like... I want to."

"I believe in you." Charlie offered, taking a bite of cake.

Seyoon and Jun had their final schedule for their fan project. They sat in their respective seats getting their makeup done after their hair. The usual staff were tending to their cosmetics so the chatter was friendly per usual. Eunkyung was adding some finishing touches to Seyoon's look before changing the subject.

"These schedules are all because of your girlfriends right?"

He hesitated as he decided how to respond, feeling about odd, "It's not because of them." She didn't say anything as though waiting for him to finish a thought but he didn't say anything else.

"But... because you are openly dating now?"

Seyoon glanced at Jun but he was engrossed in conversation with his own makeup artist and didn't seem to hear the topic change, "We just want to assure our fans our love for them hasn't changed." He finally answered.

Eunkyung nodded absentmindedly, adding some gentle brush strokes to the foundation on his face. "I have to admit. I was surprised when I saw who you were dating."

Seyoon glanced up at her but she was seemingly focused on his makeup. He felt a response wasn't necessary so he didn't say anything.

"I thought you'd definitely date another idol once your ban was up." She smiled, stopping the touch ups to look at his face as she appreciated her handiwork. He nodded again, still not sure how to respond.

"When I was little my parents divorced." She started, "My parents never seemed to be suited for each other. I asked my dad how he and my mom had decided to start a family despite being so I'll suited for each other." Seyoon watched her pensively as she focused on more makeup details, not meeting his eyes.

"He said he felt that deciding to get married was like being a taxi going on duty. Once he turned on his light, whoever hopped into the cab was his responsibility. It was just unfortunate that it turned out to be a bad tipper." Eunkyung finished her story and sat back again, then met his eyes and the slight young woman smiled prettily. "You're all set for stage."

He thanked her and stood to move to the couch to wait for Jun for them to start their surprise vlive before the schedule.

Charlie had arrived at Guerin's place ahead of time to set up. She had asked him over with a movie night, only letting him know that it would be more private than at his dorm. Other than that she hadn't given him other details. Charlie had spent ages deciding on whether lighting candles would be too much or not and kept lighting, blowing them out, then lighting them until a knock finally came at the door.

The secluded environment that they were about to be in had inspired some ideas in Jun. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, trying to get his thoughts under control before ringing the buzzer. He continued reminding himself to not jump to conclusions and to just enjoy the movie with Charlie while he waited for her to answer the door.

Hearing the buzzer Charlie froze and took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomache. She opened the door, relieved for a moment to see that Jun had also dressed casually, even though her outfit hid her much more selectively chosen lingerie. Once the door was closed behind him they embraced, almost a little awkwardly.

The two of them puttered around until eventually settling onto the couch with some snacks as they started the movie they had agreed on beforehand. Charlie was completely unable to focus on the movie as she kept going through her plan for later in the evening in her head. She was so distracted she didn't even notice Jun's lack of reactions to the comedy. He was equally as distracted as the two of them cuddled closer and closer.

Charlie couldn't handle it, about an hour into the movie she couldn't even follow what was happening. She gave up and decided to go for it. Acting on impulse, refusing herself the opportunity to overthink anymore. Pulling away from him she pulled off her shirt, revealing a lacey surprise, the swung her leg over his lap, blocking the television.

Jun, who hadn't even been paying attention and contemplating along the same (although less bold) options was taken by surprise. His hands went automatically to the hips of his girlfriend. Jun's attention was snapped to attention as his eyeline, which started at her new lingerie before traveling up to her face, forced the reaction he had been lacking from the film. His eyes wide, he couldn't help but grin as a reaction before biting his lip and increasing pressure on her hips, pulling her closer. Their lips met, the kiss passionate and deep without lacked any pretense. Charlie removed his hands from him long enough to stand and remove her jeans, revealing the rest of her lacey provocation. He had all of a full second to react, not even noticing her flush before she moved back onto his lap her arms pulling him close as their lips met again.

His hands moved up to trace the edges of her bra, moving back to touch the clasp before hesitating. She pressed against him, wordlessly encouraging him grinding on his lap. Motivated by her response he fumbled momentarily before unhooking her and exposing her torso to him. He had seen her like this once before, but the moment had been ruined by Wow bumbling into their moment. This time no such distractions marred the experience. He took the time to experience the full glory, holding her away for a few moments.

She allowed him the enjoyment before stepping off him, taking his hands in hers and pulling him up. She snuck a kiss as they stood, lasting a few seconds longer than intended, before leading him away into the bedroom where they were finally able to more fully explore their desires.

For security and privacy, Kim Hyeim had allowed Guerin and Charlie access to the main waiting area of Beat Interactive. Seyoon had worked late knowing Guerin had a personal matter to attend to. Once she texted him that she was waiting for him when he was ready, he wrapped up his work and headed to the main floor immediately.

Guerin was waiting close to the door with her surprise. As soon as the elevator doors dinged she looked up to see Seyoon stepping out. She had time to stand up before seeing a pretty young woman that had been waiting closer to the elevators pop up and rush over to him.

Seyoon was surprised with Eunkyung greeting him first at the elevator doors. "Oppa!" She greeted him excitedly, hugging him without precedent. He froze for a moment looking down at her before patting her head, causing her to look up at him, "I waited for you!" She added.

He took her shoulders and gently moved her away from him. She complied by letting him go but still leaning close to him. He wasn't sure what to say but she seemed expectant so he mentally scrambled before settling on "Why?"

"I... I like you!" She said earnestly, pushing against his hands on her shoulders again. His lost expression only grew more confused and desperate as he floundered on how to react.

"Your girlfriend... she doesn't suit you! You have more options." She pressed, "I think you should know... you don't have to settle for the first customer once your light comes on!"

Seyoon had been known to react to annoying stimuli in situations like Jun singing loudly in the shower at bedtime, but he had rarely been moved to anger. The feeling for him was less a hot flash and more a settling cold at his face froze, eyes darkening. He was spared an immediate reaction as Guerin stepped up.

Seeing Eunkyung embrace Seyoon had made her heart lurch. She stood in place gathering her emotions, forcing herself to calm down as she watched another woman overtly throwing herself on her boyfriend. Swallowing her bubbling rage she forced a smile and moved to the pair.

"Seyoonie." Guerin said, greeting her boyfriend with forced cheerfulness before staring pointedly at the shorter woman leaning into him.

Eunkyung started. She hadn't noticed Guerin come into the waiting room, unaware she was allowed and having spent the last few hours working up her courage to confess to Seyoon. Seeing Guerin, the obstacle she perceived between her and Seyoon, she stepped back but couldn't hide a hateful expression.

The animosity was not lost on Guerin, who proceeded to politely bow and introduce herself. Eunkyung barely inclined her head in response. Guerin let her gaze linger almost condescendingly on Eunkyung, her annoyance poorly hidden before she turned fully to Seyoon, "Are you ready to go?" She asked.

"One moment." He reached for Guerin's hand, the turned to Eunkyung, "My light wasn't on when I met Guerin. But meeting her changed that." Guerin looked at him, baffled by his words and sure that her language skills were failing her. He continued, "I don't expect anyone to understand. I don't need them to. Least of all you." Eunkyung's expression became hurt and shocked but he wasn't done, "Our relationship has been professional until now. It's clear to me that it can't continue. I'll speak with Kim Hyeim so you won't need to be bothered by my presence anymore. It's been nice working with you, you've done well." He bowed politely to her form as she was frozen in surprise.

"Are you serious? Her??" Eunkyung spat, recovering enough to be angry. Guerin raised her eyebrows but Seyoon spoke.

"You have been inappropriate this entire time and I've been patient. You are about to cross the line." His cold expression was unfamiliar and scary, even Guerin looked to him in surprise, "At this point you will be leaving with a good recommendation. I suggest you don't throw that away."

Eunkyung took a step backward, paused and looked at him in shock. She seemed to debate saying something, threw a last disgusted expression at Guerin then turned to leave, angry tears in her eyes. The pair watched her leave. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Seyoon pulled Guerin into him hugging her close. Guerin was temporarily lost for words. She knew she had been insulted but the interaction had been confusing, so her anger was curbed by curiosity, and embracing Seyoon who held her so tenderly helped abate the strong negative emotions she felt.

"What just happened?" She asked.

"She's not important. She was wrong." He rested his head against hers, trying to calm himself.

"Will you tell me more later?" She asked, snesing he might be too worked up now to get into details. He nodded into her. After a moment he relaxed and changed the subject.

"So what was your surprise?" He asked.

"Oh... well I hope this cheers you up..." she pulled away from him and reached down to a crate she had set behind her protectively out of habit. Opening the door a white fluffy cloud of a creature pushed out, wagging a happy tail.

Seyoon dissolved.

[swervestrickland]

Face the Facts | Sami Zayn

Pairing: Sami Zayn x Reader

I’m going to type the anon’s request at the bottom of the story because it gives away too much and I just want you guys to read it.

Word Count: 3,690 I GOT CARRIED AWAY BUT FOR GOOD REASON OK

Author’s Note: I’m taking requests!!!!  THIS REQUEST IS WAS SO CUTE AND SO HEAVENLY AND JUST. JUST READ IT. PLEASE. Please leave comments I love y’all <3 (And for the love of god i need to make a legit tag list so please send me an ask if you’d like to be in it, even if i already tag you bc i just tag whoever comes to mind at this point)

Tagging: @llowkeys / @unabashedwwesmut / @hardcorewwetrash / @roman-reigns-princess / @the-geekgoddes / @xxmaddhatter39xx / @reigns420 / @xstylesxclashx / @crowleysqueenofhell / @wrasslin-x / @wrestlewriting / @sjwrites22 / @wwefluffandstuff / @wrestlingbabe / @helluvawriter / @helluvaclash / @squirrel666 / 

It had started out very innocently. One evening, she sat at a table in the catering room, nibbling on her dinner. There was no one around, which was just the way she liked it. She held the book upright, just shy of her plate, as her other hand fed her forkfuls of spaghetti. It was a particularly harrowing situation, given that [Y/N] disliked getting food stains in her books, but it was a hazard of her addiction. Fact books were her life.

So as she cursed herself for splattering just a teensy bit of tomato sauce on page sixty five, All About Mosquitos, dabbing failingly at the spot, who should catch her in her own personal bubble of embarrassment but Sami Zayn? "Hey, [Y/N], mind if I sit?" She nodded in response, motioning to the chair in front of her with her fork, wincing when another stain hit the page. She gave the spot one last swipe before replacing the bookmark and swatting the book shut, settling it down on the chair to her right. His animated ginger brows expressed a flicker of mild amusement before his body settled in his seat. He was having the chicken salad. Of course he is, she thought. That would've been the better choice, given her own circumstances. Also, it was healthier. "What were you reading just now?" He asked amicably, the crunch of his salad hitting her ears as he took a bite. "Oh, um, that? Just a book." "I can see that," he said, smiling, "but about what?" "Uh..." [Y/N] mumbled. It wasn't something she liked to talk about. The few times she ever mentioned her fascination for the useless, guys and gals everywhere were immediately turned off. She could hear their voices change, the intonation in their mhm's differing slightly, monosyllables becoming more frequent replies. Their eyes would glaze over, no longer entertained by the conversation. And she never recognized it, until one day an old boyfriend broke up with her, his excuse being, "you just never shut up about that dumb, useless shit." So she never spoke of it aloud to anyone ever again. "It's nothing. Just dumb stuff." She could feel her body drawing back into itself, and she wondered just how much more of her spaghetti she would have to eat in front of him before she could make the excuse that she was full and leave. Sami gave her a wide smile. "Well, whatever it is, I bet it's interesting. When you're done with it, you mind if I borrow it? Most of the others don't really bring books along with them on the road, and I've been craving some new reading material." He took another bite of his salad. "You know, there was a study recently that said people who read are two and a half times less likely to get Alzheimer's?" It was like [Y/N] snapped back into reality after aeons of living inside her own mind. "W-what did you say?" "Yeah," Sami continued, "they said that even though reading doesn't outright prevent you from getting the disease, they proved that reading and Alzheimer's had a kind of correlation. Pretty useless, in the end," he chuckled. "But interesting to know all the same. I'm not going to take my chances." Suddenly, [Y/N]'s mouth went dry. The anticipation was killing her. "Do you know any other useless information? Anything else, ya know," she gestured with her hands, "interesting?" Chewing on his leaves, Sami thought long and hard. After about a minute, he remembered something. "Julius Caesar was kidnapped by pirates when he was in his twenties and held for ransom. When he heard the price, he told the pirates that it was an insult to his value and demanded they raise it. Once the ransom was paid and he was free, he tracked them down and executed them." [Y/N] giggled in response, hand reaching to cover her mouth. "Oh my God. That's amazing." "I wouldn't say amazing so much as arrogant, though," he argued gently. "No, I know," she replied, "but it's amazing that you know that." And that was it. The start of a budding friendship. He looked at her for what seemed like a year, biting his lip in contemplation. "Do you want to hang out later? Grab a smoothie or something, after the show?" [Y/N] flashed him a brilliantly beautiful smile. "I'd love to."

Weeks passed, and [Y/N] and Sami became the best of friends. She still kept her book and her useless facts to herself, but she knew that if it ever came up again, she wouldn't be afraid to tell him about it. Something about the way they'd spoken that day in catering gave off this vibe, this instinct to trust him. For the most part, they talked about movies, shows, work, politics. She was glad to find out that they had similar lines of thinking with pretty much anything, and they remained pretty much inseparable. It must've been the politeness, the kindness with which he spoke to her, that sealed that deal. She had a gentle, quiet nature that seemed to mirror his own. They were two sides of the same coin, as it were. One night, after a particularly grueling match with Natalya, in which Natalya actually spat in her face to the reception of boo's from the crowd, [Y/N] was feeling exceptionally down. She knew it was coming. She had told Natalya to give it her all. And it was only a storyline. It really shouldn't have affected her as much as it had. As much as it did. Sami had been right behind the curtain throughout the whole ordeal. He handed [Y/N] a towel to wipe off her face. "Really put the spit in spit-take, huh?" She wiped herself off with the towel, and threw it back to him. "No one laughed." "Good. That means they love you as much as I do." Sami slung the towel around his neck, and an arm around her slumped shoulders. "Guess you can sleep easy tonight knowing the entire WWE universe is probably writing hate tweets to Nattie as we speak." She looked up at him as they walked towards the locker rooms, placed a hand on his scruff and scratched it adoringly, before giving him a light slap on the cheek. "That's not nice, Sami. I wish they'd send me love tweets instead of sending her hate tweets." "Now that is a very noble and sweet thing to say. But, the heel makes the face, so..." "Did you just quote Glow at me?" "Who? What? Me? That wasn't Glow, that was..." He snapped his fingers, the bullshit answer coming to him. "...Vince McMahon." "Sami Zayn, you dumb, lovable idiot." "I'll take that as a compliment."

She couldn't sleep. That nightmare couldn't have taken more than a couple minutes for her brain to concoct and perform, and yet it had kept her awake for hours. It was Nattie's face, and yet it wasn't her face at all. It was warped, like the mirrors in a funhouse. Actually, now that she thought about it, the nightmare might have been about Nattie chasing her through a never ending hallway of funhouse mirrors, but it was hard to tell at this point. It had freaked her out. She had woken up in a cold sweat, and now she couldn't fall back asleep. She checked the time. 1:27 am. Fuck me, she thought, biting her thumbnail. Everything in the hotel was probably locked up or closed by now. The gym, the pool, the bar where she might've been able to drink herself to sleep. She didn't want to do it, but...at this point, she had no choice. Grabbing her phone off the nightstand, swallowing down every thought she had to deny herself this small ease of her soul, she opened up her chat with Sami. It took her a solid, oh, fifteen minutes to decide on her factual opener. Did you know mosquitos are most attracted to the color blue? It was about another minute or two before she saw the tell-tale chat bubble appear on the screen, signaling that Sami was typing a response. I didn't, actually. Remind me never to wear blue when we visit the south in the summer.

She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't going to ask, then. Why she was still up. Her respect for him grew with every passing moment. I will. Also, don't wear black in the summer. Or anything dark, for that matter. Dark colors absorb all colors of light rays, as well as heat. You sure know a lot about colors, don't you? She bit her lip, holding back a smile. Eh, well, you know. I dabble. Dabbling is good, haha. I enjoy dabbling, now and then. I am quite the dabbler. Really? Oh, yeah. I've dabbled in marine biology. For example, did you know that a whale's penis is, ahem, scientifically called a dork? The only dork here is you. No way that's its scientific name. Also, leave it to the man to start talking about penis in a little light hearted, dabbling conversation. Ouch, that hurts. You got me, I'm not sure if it's scientific. Did you know that a male giraffe's penis is approximately four feet in length? That's about the size of an emperor penguin, or about the average height of a seven year old child. Oh my god. Now who's talking about penises? (Penisi?) I hope Finn and his stuffed animal giraffes stay far away from me for the next few weeks. I won't be able to stop thinking about what you've just told me. I feel so emasculated. [Y/N] burst out laughing. She was glad she didn't have a roommate this week, or else they totally would've cussed her out by now. All that tossing and turning, and now she was giggling uncontrollably at her phone screen. Emasculated? Come on. I'm serious. I will never, in my life, have a penis that large. That's upsetting. It truly is. The common shrew's penis is only a fifth of an inch long, on average, but relative to its body size, they're well endowed. So don't feel too bad. I am absolutely in awe at how much more you know about penises than me. My hope is that you don't know any of this from experience. Christ, Sami, NO. Omg, ew. I have definitely NOT dabbled in bestiality, thank you very much. Hahahaha, okay. Just making sure. ...So is that all you got? 😉 [Y/N] stared at the bright screen. She'd already woken him up, and it was nearing two thirty in the morning already. They'd probably be awake in the next three hours, since the gym opened up at 5:30. At this point, sleep wasn't much of an issue. She looked up at the ceiling, then back at the clock. 2:25. ....Boy, I'm just getting started.

So you're telling me that a superstitious pope is to blame for the Black Death? Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you. So if this pope had just, left these cats alone, and not told people that they were the devil's brood, that the Black Death probably wouldn't have happened, because cats kill rats. The rats, of course, being the cause of the plague. Absolutely. And that he is the reason people, to this day, are so put off by cats. Which is stupid. Cats are amazing. I'm totally in agreement. Gucci is a fine example. Gucci is probably the best example, imho. She's the paragon of all feline kind, if you ask her. Oh, speaking of cats. Did you know that cats were highly revered in Egypt I had heard about that, yeah. Yeah, pharaohs would be buried with their pets, mainly cats and dogs, along with their families and concubines. The cats were supposed to help guide their spirits to the afterlife. Is that why people say that cats can see ghosts? Sometimes Gucci yowls at the wall. OMG, are you serious? 😂 Yes. I'm totally serious. You might need to have her checked out, tbqh. Absolutely not. My Gucci is perfect. Okay, then.... So I've got a useless fact for you. In the nineteenth century, there was a construction foreman named Phineas Gage who, after some miscommunication or malfunction with explosives, got a metal rod shot through his brain, and lived. He fucking LIVED? Yeah, he lived. For another twelve years. That's just...that's insane. Twelve years? Christ. Yeah, crazy isn't it? Extraordinary. Now, I'm going back to animals because animals are fun. By all means. Did you know that bloodhounds are the only animals whose evidence is admissible in court? Really? Must be why Sherlock Holmes had one. Yeah. Apparently their noses have forty times the amount of receptors that human noses do, so it's easy for them to connect blood at the scene of a murder with the suspect who may have committed the act. Commit murder, stay away from dogs. Duly noted. Sami. Sami, no. I'm kidding, lol. Do I look like the type of guy who could kill someone? [Y/N] dropped her phone on her lap, incredulous. She sat there, head leaning against the headboard for a good long while. Could she imagine him killing someone? The answer was only too obvious. Sami, you wrestle for a living. The only reason you haven't killed someone yet is because you and the other person know what they're doing, and it's professional. Imagine yourself fighting someone who has no training whatsoever; you get mad one night and fists start flying. To me, you don’t look like you could hurt anyone. But you could hurt someone if you wanted to.

Why would I be fighting them, though? I feel like if I killed someone, it would have to be a very good reason. Not that I'm saying murder is justifiable. But. You know. The conversation had taken quite a turn. It was morbid at best, revealing at worst. She typed a response. Let's say they hurt me. Badly. On purpose. Would you kill someone for that? His response was static. It was like she'd accidentally pressed "scan" on the radio and nothing came up but noise. She was glad of it, though. It meant he was taking his time to think about it. If he said yes too quickly, it meant he really, honestly, couldn't give a fuck about human life, which she knew was untrue. If he said no too quickly, it meant he really could give a fuck about her. It was a selfish, loaded question. But she had typed it out anyway. I'd probably beat them to near death, if I could get away with it. Make sure they never hurt you again, or at least that they got the picture. An exhale of breath. Phew. Best answer, in her mind. Why is that so....sweet? Lol. I do consider myself sweet, so I'm glad to hear you say that. She dropped her phone on her chest with a smile. It was getting brighter, all of a sudden. Only then did she realize that soft light was glowing through the window shades. She checked the clock on the nightstand. 5:59. Sami, it's six o'clock in the morning. The gym's been open for a half hour! I know, [Y/N]. She stared at his answer. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't you say so? I was having too much fun texting you. There they were. The butterflies that came to assault her tummy once every thousand exchanges. Sure, they toed the line of flirtation more times than she could count in a day. But sometimes, she could tell there was something different about the way he said certain things. That's all fine and great but we gotta go! Let's go, Sami, get ready. Gym time! 🤗 All right, [Y/N]. Give me ten minutes, I'll be knocking at your door.  

Teal sports bra, black yoga shorts, teal Adidas on her feet. Hair in a high ponytail. She looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe some eyeliner? Nah, just mascara. She rubbed her hands together, shifted weight between her left leg and her right. "Ooh," she shivered. The AC was way too low. Might have been half the reason she couldn't sleep. She grabbed a towel out of her gym bag, and a water bottle out of the mini fridge. A knock. Her mouth widened into a smile as she turned to open the door. She opened it to find a just showered Sami Zayn, ginger curls at the top of his head dripping lightly with moisture. He looked up to meet her eyes, and her heart nearly stopped at the sight. Those lovely dark eyes could melt the most cold hearted bitch. He stood there for a moment, didn't say a word. She wondered what he was thinking. Then, "Good morning, [Y/N]." "Good morning, Sami. How'd you sleep?" She shut the door behind her, and they made their way towards the elevator. "Not well. Some girl kept me awake last night. Kept spewing a bunch of weird facts at me." "Really?" She grinned. "Why didn't you tell her to stop?" A button pressed. The ding of an elevator, doors swinging open. He placed an arm to hold the doors, motioning as if to say, "ladies first." She pressed the button for the second floor, above the lobby, where the gym was. "Well, I don't know. She was really opening my mind about a lot of things. I learned a lot. She's really intelligent." "Nah. I wouldn't say spewing useless information is a result of intelligence. Anyone can remember a couple bullshit facts." He poked her in the tummy. "Well, I think it's endearing." He shifted on his feet, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. "Did you know that most people who die in elevators are elevator technicians? Statistically, it's the safest form of travel." Sami chuckled silently to himself. "Unless you have an elevator technician degree I don't know about, I guess we're fine, then, huh?" The elevator jolted suddenly, scaring them both. She grabbed his hand instinctually, dropping it once the elevator continued its descent to the second floor. He looked at her, and they both laughed awkwardly. "Why were you awake all night?" Sami asked her, finally. "Um." It was getting cold, and she could feel herself beginning to shiver. "You can tell me. You know you can." It was hard to dismiss those puppy dog eyes of his. They bore into her soul, begging her to spill her secrets. "I had a, a nightmare." It sounded like a question. She placed her water bottle on the floor of the elevator, the condensation of the beverage freezing her fingers. "I couldn't go back to sleep, but. I didn't want to say anything." "You could've told me." "I know, it's just," she crossed her arms against her, trying to draw heat from her own body that wasn't there. "I didn't want to worry you." "Hey, [Y/N]." His voice was a mere whisper, hardly audible if they hadn't been standing in an elevator, two feet apart. Sami closed the distance between them. "Yeah?" She whispered back. He cupped her chin, lightly pressing at her jaw. Their eyes met, and the butterflies and her stomach began their fluttering song. His eyes ran over her, studying every line of her face. When they paused a bit too long at her lips, the doors swung open, the sharp "ding" of the elevator indicating they had finally made it to the second floor. [Y/N] looked away from him, towards the open doors, but as she made to move, Sami shifted his body, stopping her for just a moment before he pushed a button. The doors dinged closed, and she looked back at him, confused. "There's something I need to tell you, and I don't think I should tell you in the middle of the gym, where our friends can see us. In fact, we've been lucky so far that no one's stopped this elevator." He scanned her again, the look on his face full of love and adoration. "What is it, Sami? What's wrong?" "What's wrong?" He chuckled. "There's nothing wrong. Everything's absolutely perfect." He paused. Then he continued. "Fact. I'm in love with my best friend and I think she's in love with me, too." What? "You heard me. Fact. I'm in love with my best friend. And I think," he paused again, looking straight through to the dark recesses of her soul, "she's in love with me, too." This was un-freaking-believable. Her mind was spinning. It was like the whole world had been turned upside down. But why? Why was this so difficult to understand? Just moments ago her heart was fluttering. Moments ago, she was wishing this was true and now it was and it was the one fact in the world she couldn't believe. "Believe it, baby. That's one fact that'll never change. I'm in love with you." And then his mouth was on hers like it was meant to be there all along. His body leaned in, begging to be touched. Her fingers ran under his shirt, grazing the ginger hairs of his tummy and his chest, feeling the goosebumps rising from his skin. His tongue flicked over her lips, and she opened them, every one of her vulnerabilities drifting away as he kissed her more passionately with every fleeting second, his tongue searching for hers in longing, and she met him briefly, before pushing him back just an inch to catch her breath. Her eyes looked away, shifting everywhere but to his own. Their breaths slowed and deepened, each passing moment bathing her in serenity. At last, her eyes locked onto his. "Fact. I'm in love with you, too. Now and always." He granted her a smile that would not go away, a smile that felt like starlight and sunshine, all at once. And the butterflies never stopped fluttering.

"If you don't have too many requests, would you be able to do a Sami Zayn one where the reader stays up all night texting texting Sami facts he'll never need to know or use in life. When he asks her why she stayed up all night, she says it's because she had a nightmare but she was too afraid to tell him about it. If you want to do this, thanks!" - anon

#wwe #sami zayn #wwe imagine #sami zayn imagine #smackdown #smackdown live #sami zayn fluff #text #mine #my fics #nonnie