#I feel like everyone's moving forward while I sit in the same place. I feel like I'm being left behind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellecdc · 10 days

Note

hello! would you maybe be willing to consider writing a kind of follow-up to the poly moonwater fics where reader is pregnant? maybe when she has the babies and everyone’s reactions?? ty for reading my request🙏

I love this little family so damn much 😭🫶

poly!moonwater x afab!reader who gives birth to their twins

CW: pregnancy, hormonal fits, brief discussion of Regulus' childhood, brief discussion of Remus' childhood, going into labour, portrayal of breastfeeding though nothing is described, Barty losing his fucking mind, Uncle Sirius for Best Uncle 2024, also the babies look like their daddies to avoid describing/labelling the mother's features

Remus felt for you. He really, really did.

But also, he was a little afraid of you.

Scratch that, he was very afraid of you.

But his sympathy for you ran deeper than his fear, which is how he found himself sitting in one of the (many) gliders Regulus has purchased for every room in your shared home as you fought to find a comfortable position in your bed.

And yes, your bed.

Because you had since kicked Remus and Regulus out of your shared bed.

And though they didn’t feel particularly bad about it, you claimed it was their fault.

You see, after a particularly worrisome fall - that took place at six and a half months pregnant (with twins, no less) as you missed a step on your way up the stairs of your townhouse - unfortunately for you, and fortunately for Remus and Regulus, it happened in front of all of your friends one night when they were over for dinner, which resulted in a lot of fussing by James and Sirius, and caused Barty to go marching upstairs and begin moving all of your furniture and belongings into the spare room on the main floor.

“Like fuck my Treasure is navigating these stairs in her condition. The two of you are sodding useless; this should have been done months ago.” He spat venomously as Evan shouted at him that it was “not polite to reconfigure someone else's house without permission.”

You vehemently protested the move.

Regulus and Remus didn’t think it was such a bad idea.

Because of their ‘betrayal’ (read: their lack of support in your arguments against your most capricious friend devotee), the boys were not allowed in ‘your room’.

So, perhaps Remus was already pushing the limits by taking up residence in the glider as you tried and failed to find a comfortable position to read in, determined to take a nap.

“The babes giving you grief, dove?” He asked softly, earning him a derisive scoff from you.

“What do you think?” You spat.

Remus grimaced but decided to soldier on. “They may be ready to come any day now.”

That was the wrong thing to say if your quick glare was anything to go by.

“No they are not.”

“Dove,” he started, closing his own book and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you. “Anywhere from 34 to 38 weeks is full term for twins. The fact you’ve made it to 35 is incredible, baby.”

Your lips pinched as your brows dipped, and Remus was sure you were close to tears. “No, I’m not ready, I-” you let out a breath as you cut yourself off, alerting Remus to the fact that you were about to give away the sex of (one of) the babies. “Baby B, they need more time.” You admitted, voice quieter as if you were afraid saying it any louder would somehow jinx it and trigger your own labour.

“They’re going to come when they’re ready.” He repeated.

He left the room after you threw your book at him.

He followed the sounds coming from the kitchen where he found Regulus on his hands and knees underneath the cabinets, of which he’d emptied of all their contents.

The second Regulus found out that the three of you were expecting twins, and due to the nature of the superfetation and thus the risks involved, he quit his job and strong-armed (read: lightly encouraged) Remus to do the same.

And while Remus focused on catering to you and ensuring you were comfortable (or…as comfortable as humanly possible when you had two little freaks using your organs as trampolines) and well fed, Regulus focused on…whatever this was.

“Reggie?”

“Mhm?” He responded quickly, voice muffled from where his head was still shoved deep within the lower cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

Regulus shifted and his head made a painful thump sound when it connected with the top of the cabinet before he pulled himself out of it.

“Cleaning.”

One of Remus' brows arched at that. “The lower cabinets?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

Regulus rubbed the back of his head as he looked between Remus and the mess he was currently surrounded by in the name of ‘cleaning’.

“Well…the babies-”

“Won’t be concerned with the lower cabinets.” Remus cut him off, looking down at his boyfriend lovingly.

Remus watched as Regulus took a deep breath and deflated significantly.

Remus pushed aside some large pots and various cleaning products as he joined Regulus on the floor and pulled him closer by the ankle.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours, love?” He asked him quietly, rubbing his thumb along his Achilles tendon as Regulus seemed to organise his thoughts.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back to work.” Regulus blurted finally.

Remus fought to school his expression as he tilted his head in consideration. “Ever?”

Regulus shook his head and rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know. Maybe just part time or something…I just- I don’t…I don’t want to be like him.”

“Like who, sweetheart?”

“Like my father.” Regulus bit out, bitterness colouring his tone. “Avoiding my family and responsibilities by hiding at work. Coming home to find out the babies have done something wonderful and I missed it. I…I want to be here, and I’m afraid; I’m afraid I’ll be more like him than I mean to be.”

Remus smiled sadly at Regulus as he squeezed his ankle twice. “I already know you’ll be nothing like him, my star. Considering you’re so worried about it, I know you’ll be 100 times the father he was. But, I’ll be here to make sure that stays true, okay?”

Regulus’ eyes met Remus’, and he felt his heart squeeze at the redness rimming Regulus’ eyes as they turned glassy.

“I’ll take care of you - both of you; all of you. You’ll never have to want for anything, you know that right?” Regulus stated urgently.

Remus smiled softly at him as he nodded. “I know, love.”

“You could stay home indefinitely too, you know.” Regulus offered shyly.

Remus chuckled. “You just don’t want to have to face our little mama bear all by yourself.” He teased.

Regulus chuckled in response but his eyes morphed into a lovesick gaze as he stared unseeingly out the archway of the kitchen. “She’s just uncomfortable and stressed right now.”

“She’s gonna be such a good mum.” Remus agreed quickly.

“The best.”

“We’re so lucky.”

“Rem? Reg?” Your voice sounded from the hall before your form hobbled into the archway as you used the door frame for support.

“What’s the matter?” Regulus asked quickly, kicking his feet out and sending various pots toppling over on the tile floor.

Whatever you had been on your way to say seemed to be placed on the back burner as your brows pinched and your eyes darted across the chaos that was currently your kitchen.

“What were you doing in here?” You asked slightly breathlessly. Both Remus and Regulus stood sheepishly.

“Erm, uh….cleaning?” Regulus answered in the form of a question.

One of your brows raised as you continued scanning the mess. “You’re not very good at it.”

“What did you need, dove?” Remus asked gently.

Your face softened as you looked up at him worriedly.

“I think my water broke.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the messy kitchen as Remus and Regulus stood staring at you dumbfoundedly.

“You…” Regulus started before clearing his throat. “You think?”

You grimaced as you looked down to your stomach sheepishly. “No I…I’m quite sure. I think-” You paused to suck in a breath through your teeth. “I think it’s time.”

The breath that followed the end of your sentence bordered on a groan and the boys jumped to action.

“Okay, come here amour.” Regulus said gently as he supported you with one hand on your elbow and the other on your lower back and he guided you to a chair in the dining room. “Rem, can you grab the babies’ bags?”

“On it.” He answered quickly and went running to the nursery to grab two matching nappy bags. Merlin, babies come with a lot of stuff.

“Are you grabbing our bag?” Remus called to Regulus who was then running up the stairs to the ensuite bedroom.

“Oui! Amour’s bag is in her closet.”

“Got it!”

Regulus and Remus reconvened in the living room with four bags, two baby carriers, and enough panic to fill an olympic swimming pool.

“Okay, baby bags have nappies?” Regulus asked, reading off a list in his hands.

“Check.” Remus responded.

“Snappies?”

“Check.”

“Blankets?”

“Check.”

“Hats and booties?”

“Got it.”

“Okay. And who packed mama’s bag?”

“She did.”

Regulus let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, no need to check that one then.”

Remus offered him an unimpressed look as he re-zipped the babies’ bags and threw them over his shoulder.

“Okay, you grab the carriers and our bag, I’ll grab the rest.” Remus instructed, which Regulus complied as they stepped up to the floo.

“Alright, St. Mungo’s.” Remus said clearly as the flames surged green and the two men stepped through to the intake room of the magical hospital.

Both men were breathless as they nearly collided with the desk where an unimpressed mediwix looked them both up and down.

“We’re checking into the maternity ward; our partner has gone into labour.” Remus explained in an exhale.

The mediwix moved his gaze between both men, their stomachs, and the various belongings they were carrying.

“Right,” he drawled before his eyes returned to Remus’. “And, your partner?”

“Y/N L/N.” Regulus added quickly, causing the mediwix to move his judgmental stare to him.

“Right….and where is she?”

Both men spun to face each other in a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

Remus rounded the corner of the kitchen to find you sitting where Regulus had left you, one hand massaging a point of your stomach as you considered him with a look full of judgement and mirth.

“Where’s Reg?” You goaded as Remus helped you up from your chair and started making the slow trek back towards the floo flames; his face burning hot with shame that he was sure was spreading to the tips of his ears and well down his chest.

“He was too embarrassed.” He admitted quietly.

You sounded like you were getting ready to laugh when you doubled over and a pained whimper escaped your lips.

Remus quickly bent down so he had one hand on each of your arms, trying to help keep you upright.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry. We’re going to get you in a bed and feeling better, okay?”

You whimpered again and looked up at Remus sadly. “I’m sorry.” You cried quietly.

“Dove.” He admonished sadly. “What on earth are you sorry for?”

You took in two large breaths as you tried to breathe around the pain. “You have to do this every month.”

Remus wanted to cry. For you, or for himself, he wasn’t sure. He loved you so sodding much he couldn’t even tell what exactly it was about what you said that touched him so much.

“You’re so much stronger and braver than I am though, dovey. So if I can get through it, I know you can too, yeah?” He offered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m only brave because I learned it from you.” You gritted out through a sob.

“We can argue about this later, okay? Let’s get you checked in; I’m sure the mediwix is glaring daggers at Regulus for having abandoned his pregnant partner.”

He managed to coerce a small laugh out of you which he considered a win before you both stepped through the flames.

Remus didn’t grow up expecting much out of life.

Bitten at only four years old, he was certain something would go wrong with his little body during one of his transformations and he’d be dead long before he ever hit Hogwarts age.

He couldn’t attend muggle school growing up due to his affliction and the risk of performing accidental magic in front of muggles.

Though he was certain he was going to die before age 11, he was even more certain that should he make it to 11, he’d never be accepted into Hogwarts.

When he was accepted into Hogwarts, he was certain he’d never make any friends.

When he made friends, he was certain they’d hate him if they found out about his lycanthropy.

When his friends accepted him for his lycanthropy, well….he never imagined he’d be so lucky as to find a partner who was just as accepting.

Let alone two.

For as long as Remus Lupin could remember, he never imagined ever feeling as much love or as loved as he currently felt in this exact moment.

Not only did he have two people who he loved beyond measure, but those two people gifted him two of the most perfect, tiny little beings he could have never imagined possible.

And suddenly - sitting here in a hospital room with you resting in a bed with your eyes closed as Regulus wiped lovingly at your face with a damp cloth, with a tiny little black-haired baby swaddled to perfection fast asleep in a see-through bassinet on your other side, and with an even tinier fawn-haired baby snuggled perfectly into Remus’ bare chest - every single full moon was worth it.

Every broken bone, every scar, every ache and pain and sleepless night that brought him here was absolutely, without a doubt, worth it.

“Knock knock!” Remus could hear Lily murmur quietly yet brightly from behind the closed hospital door.

“That is so cringey, Red. Why wouldn’t you just knock?” Sirius muttered.

“Because!” She hissed back and he could hear what sounded like Sirius being swatted with her purse. “They could be sleeping! I don’t want to startle them with a loud knock.”

“Oh yeah, Rem and Reg are definitely gonna piss their pants at the sound of you knocking on the door. Shouldn’t mama be all drugged up right now anyway?”

You chuckled under your breath as you peeled open one of your eyes to look over at Remus who was looking at you with a matching smile as you listened to Sirius being walloped three more times.

“Okay, well, you guys settle this out here then.” James decided as he pushed the door open.

He smiled at you and Regulus before his eyes met Remus’ form in a glider as he was currently doing skin-to-skin with his miniature doppelganger.

James made a very embarrassing cooing sound (if you asked Remus) as he made his way into the room, tiptoeing like he was avoiding invisible trip wires.

Lily and Sirius stopped their scuffle as they followed James in, beaming widely at Remus.

“Oh my Godric, Moony.” Lily cooed, looking awfully close to tears as the nickname so unusual out of Lily’s mouth caused Remus’ eyes to well up similarly. “It’s you as a baby!”

“Who was right? Girl or boy?” Sirius asked quickly, daring to reach forward and lovingly stroke a finger along the downy soft skin on the baby’s cheek.

Remus snorted and Regulus groaned.

“Girl, Pads.”

“Yes!” Lily and Sirius cheered quietly as they gave each other double high fives, clearly over whatever tiff they were having in the hallway mere moments ago.

“Better luck next time, Reggie.” James called towards him, causing you to narrow your eyes dangerously at your friend.

“Wait.” James said as he caught sight of a little something in a bassinet behind Regulus. “WAIT.”

“What?” Sirius asked, craning his neck to see what James was looking at.

“No…” Lily breathed out disbelievingly.

“Twins?!” Sirius shrieked.

“What?” Regulus asked derisively, and Remus had to work really hard to keep his face neutral at that.

“Wha-” James started, violently whipping his head back and forth between the two infants in the room. “What do you mean, what!?”

“There’s two!” Sirius exclaimed.

Your mouth dropped open in ‘shock’ as you looked at Sirius aghast. “You see the other one too?”

The room fell painfully silent as James, Lily, and Sirius all looked bemusedly between the family of five before Remus couldn’t take it anymore and started giggling.

His daughter began to stir from the rumbling of his chest causing Regulus to scoff in faux admonishment.

“Would you knock that off, Remus; you’re going to give her shaken baby syndrome.” He muttered before he was gently prying the tiny infant from Remus’ chest and wrapping her up in a blanket before holding her close to his chest.

“Mama.” Lily breathed out. “Two!?”

“Two.” You confirmed. Remus delighted at the shy yet proud smile you adorned as you tucked your chin to your chest.

Throwing his jumper back on, he moved over to perch on the opposite side of your bed and pulled the little bassinet closer to the two of you.

“Are they both girls?” Lily asked.

“Yes.” Remus laughed, causing Sirius to cackle from where he stood looking over Regulus’ shoulder at one of his nieces.

“You were wrong twice little brother!”

“Sod off, Sirius.”

Sirius smacked Regulus up the back of the head. “You watch your mouth around my nieces, hellion.”

“Isn’t hellion a swear word?” James queried.

“It’s not a swear, it’s a noun.” Sirius explained.

“But then wouldn’t fuck be a verb?” Remus asked, causing the room to fall silent as everyone pondered that for a moment.

The silence didn’t last long as the sound of two heavy footfalls grew in volume before they stopped abruptly in front of the hospital room.

“Am I too late!?” Barty screeched (albeit quietly) into the room as he and Evan stood in the doorway catching their breaths.

“Too late for…what, Junior? What did you think was happening here?” James asked.

“Shut up.” Barty spat as he moved into the room, shoving past everyone to press kisses against your forehead.

“My beautiful, sweet Treasure. All this work for two tossers. We could still run away, yeah? You, me and the baby; just say the word.”

“Try babies, Junior.” Sirius taunted, causing Barty to straighten up so quickly he nearly collided with Lily as he turned to look at Sirius incredulously.

“What!?”

Sirius smirked as he pointed to the baby in Regulus’ arms as Barty moved to inspect the tawny-haired babe.

“A Lupin. That’s too bad.” Barty muttered quietly, causing Regulus to kick at his shin and you to shout a reproachful ‘Bartemus!”.

“And there.” Sirius continued, pointing to where Remus was picking up a black-haired babe from a clear bassinet to pass into your waiting arms.

“A Black!? Even worse!” Barty shrilled.

“Barty!” You chided again, though the smile playing at your lips severely diminished the severity of your tone.

“Oh, oh gods, oh my. I-”

Barty didn’t seem to know where to look; pained puffs of air leaving his lungs as he spun comedically on the spot, dividing his attention between you and the two baby girls.

“Rosier, your boyfriend’s about to combust.” Lily teased as she leaned back into James who quickly wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

“Barty.” Evan tried, causing Barty to look at him in horror.

“There’s two!”

Even Evan seemed to find some humour in the state of his boyfriend as his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yes, babe. I counted that many as well.”

“Two!?” He shouted again as he turned his sights on you.

“How’d….How’d you have two in there!?” He barked as he pointed accusatively at your stomach.

“Magic?” You asked shyly, looking down at your daughter who was beginning to fuss.

“Way to go, Junior. You’ve upset her.” Sirius grumbled.

“She’s hungry.” Remus corrected, stroking her dark hair before moving his hand to stroke yours in much the same way.

“Her?” Barty asked quietly, watching as you helped the infant latch.

“Two girls, Uncle Barty.” You offered quietly, smiling softly up at your fiercest friend.

“I’m a girl uncle.” He said in awe, moving his smile towards the baby in Regulus’ arms.

“What are their names?” James asked eagerly.

You looked shyly up at Remus who in turn fielded the question to Regulus.

“This here,” Regulus started, pausing to clear his throat as he looked down at his daughter. “Is Rome Valeria Lupin.”

Lily let out a breathy ‘awe’ as she touched her hand to her chest, and Remus pretended he didn’t notice Sirius wiping a tear from under his eye.

“Named after the Empire, just like her daddy.” James commented with a soft yet proud smirk.

“And that one there is Soleil Pax Lupin.”

Sirius’ gaze moved to the little head he could see nuzzling at her mother’s chest. “A Sunny little girl.” He whispered quietly.

“Pax, that means peace in Latin, yeah?” Evan commented, smirking as Barty scoffed at him.

“Of course it does, Evan. Everyone knows that.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed as he looked towards Remus. “I didn’t know that…” He admitted quietly.

“And Valeria means strength; Rome was a little younger than her sister, but she was a powerful little fighter.” Remus explained, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“They’re perfect, you guys. Just perfect.” Lily commented emphatically, earning nods in agreement from James, Sirius, and Evan.

“With no help from these wankers, surely. You did a great job, Treasure. They may have lost the lottery in terms of fathers but these girls couldn’t have asked for a better mum.”

And though Regulus rolled his eyes with an annoyed shake of his head, no one bothered to argue.

These two girls really lucked out when it came to their mummy.

“Oh gods.” Barty whispered as he stood hastily.

“What?” Regulus asked cautiously.

“Oh gods.” He shrieked, turning a withering glare towards his friend. “You sods should have told me!”

Remus helped you right your robe as you pulled Soleil away from you and began patting gently at her back. “We thought it would be a funny surprise.” He explained.

Barty scoffed derisively and turned his ire onto him.

“Well ha ha, very funny.” He deadpanned. “I’ve only bought one of everything!”

Regulus waved him off after he passed Rome to his brother’s eagerly awaiting arms. “That’s fine, Barty.”

“No! It's not fine, Barty!” Barty volleyed back. “Evan, let’s go.” He ordered as he bent to press another kiss to your head, kissed his hand and gently pressed it to Soleil’s shoulder and did the same to Rome (much to Sirius’ chagrin).

“Where?”

“Shopping! I need to go back and buy another of everything that we’ve bought!”

“Over the past seven months!?” Evan asked incredulously.

“Yes!”

Remus could hear them arguing all the way to the floo flames.

Lily offered to take Soleil from you to finish burping the baby as the room fell into a comfortable silence.

“So, when can we start trying again?” Regulus asked, causing Remus to grimace and you to level him with a look that would send a lesser man straight to his grave.

“Okay,” Regulus acquiesced. “We’ll talk more next week.”

Sirius laughed as he looked down at the babe in his arms.

“Sounds like your papa’s going to be sleeping on Uncle Siri’s couch, Roro.” He cooed.

From the look on your face, Remus was sure Sirius was quite right.

A/N: thanks to some of the ideas that were sent to me from anon's, like the idea that they rushed to the hospital and forgot reader at the house 🤣

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celtic-crossbow · 2 months

Text

You Love Me for Everything You Hate Me For

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cock warming; insinuated breeding kink

Summary: You knew better and Daryl would remind of that.

A/N: Inspired by @retroellie headcanon regarding submissive vs dominant Daryl and @thewalkingdilf headcanon on cock warming. 🩵

You choked on another whine, body vibrating with fine tremors of barely contained arousal and a desperation for relief. You had lost track of time, stretched and molded around Daryl’s cock buried to the hilt inside you. The hunter was on his third cigarette, taking ample time to enjoy each long draw while his sharp blues remained locked onto your face.

How the fuck was he able to be within your velvety walls and remain completely still, completely lucid, completely fucking hard?

“Daryl, please.” You took the risk, bit the bullet, even after you were ordered to remain unmoving and silent. Turning his head to the side, he let the smoke billow from his mouth in a cloud that blocked his eyes from you for a moment.

“Knew better than to wear that shit out where that creep could stare atcha like a piece’a meat.” In his defense, the skirt really had been a bit on the shorter side, barely covering the curve of your ass. Spencer had followed you around like a lost puppy, ensuring he stayed behind you. You weren’t stupid and neither was Daryl. You knew where the man’s gaze had been drawn.

“You brought me the skirt from your run. I wore it for you.” You knew your backtalk would get you absolutely nowhere. Truth be told, you were probably earning yourself more time without the fucking you yearned to receive.

You both were well aware that Daryl didn’t care one bit what you wore outside. It made him proud for you to show off. Everyone knew you were his, so completely and utterly and helplessly his. He just wanted a reason to toy with you, not that he needed one.

“Don’t matter.” His index finger moved from where his hand rested on your thigh, flipping up the edge of the fabric in question the slightest bit. “Need remindin’ who this is for.”

You did whine then, shifting your hips in the smallest motion to seek friction against your swollen, throbbing clit. His large hand left your thigh to grasp your hip tightly, squeezing in warning.

“Don’t be a brat or I’ll keep ya here all day.” The cigarette was left hanging from his chapped lips so that his free hand could glide under your top, the rough pad of his fingertip carving a line over the swell of your right breast and down to your nipple. The little bud pebbled beneath his attention, your pussy clenching around him. There was a twitch inside of you but your archer’s expression remained indifferent.

“God, Daryl, please let me move. I’ll be good, I swear.” Your hands left his shoulders to lay flat against his chest, itching to unbutton his shirt and feel his skin beneath your palms. “You can cum inside me. Fill me up if you want.”

His finger stilled over your areola, a dark brow arching. “That’s temptin’, sunshine. Real temptin’.” He moved his hand to your other breast. “Too bad I ain’t in the mood to bargain.”

You fell forward, your face buried against his neck. You thought for sure that would break him. You knew the risks. So did he. Fucking a baby into you had been discussed but ultimately placed on the back burner. He wanted it. He’d made that clear. You wanted to give him that, a little family of his own, but Alexandria was just too new. You could always see it in his eyes, though. The subtle disappointment when he pulled from within your tight heat to empty himself on your skin.

“Please! I’ll do anything!” You pleaded, sitting up to grind your hips down again. His hand squeezed your hip at the same time that he pinched your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Anythin’, huh?” His eyes met yours while he tilted his head, considering your offer. “Alright.”

The sound that burst from within you was the most desperate, embarrassing keen you’d ever let slip. Your walls hugged him again, preparing for the fucking of a lifetime. His smoke was dropped into a glass of water on the table, joining the ones that came before it.

“What do you want me to do?”

The grin he gave you induced goosebumps all over your skin. “Wait. Wantcha to wait.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

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angelltheninth · 4 months

Note

Nsfw degradation with Leona Kingscholar?

He'd be so good at it too.

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation kink, power imbalance, clamming bites, dom!Leona, sub!Reader

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: I can't wait for the anime, I think people will either love him or hate him.

You knew the reason behind the soon to be King summoning you into his bedroom. It was the same as any other night, his face holding the same smile and his eyes full of lust. He was already hard which left you thinking how long he'd been touching himself before he asked for you.

You never needed to ask what he wanted, it was always your body, your voice, your company. It was flattering in a way that out of everyone he always asked for you. At this point why wouldn't he? You were clearly highly compatible and you were all too happy to lay in his soft bed and spread your legs in invitation.

"Ah you couldn't wait to get my cock in you could you, slut?" He barked out in cocky laughter while sliding in. "This pussy must have been very lonely without me. But it's what you get for touching yourself without my permission. Did those other ladies tell you how hard I fucked them? Didn't you wish it was you?"

You moaned as he began moving in and out, the loud smacking sounds beginning to echo in the room. "I won't do it again. I promise I'll be good from now on."

"I don't think a little slut like you can keep her hands to herself." Leona let his tail pass over your hip, the soft fluff tickling you and making you wiggle your hips. He pushed forward, cock throbbing against your inner walls. "Think I'll have to make sure you have no reason to touch yourself." He grinned, showing his sharp fangs to you, "Even better I'll fuck you so hard that your won't be able to take being touched afterwards."

Your legs wrapped around his hips, locked around him to pull him closer. Leona licked across your neck, a gesture you've caught him doing before when he was about to hit his peak. But this time was a little different then others, his fangs started pushing against your neck and before you could question him you felt them pierce skin, delivering bolt of pain.

Moments later a new feeling hit, just as intense.

In your confusion you almost didn't notice that he was till fucking you, still driving his cock deep into your cunt, hammering at your inner walls until they started pulsing around him. Your hips jolted upwards uncontrollably as you left your own mark on him, the deep scratches of your nails across his back.

"You belong to me now. I'm the only one who gets to enjoy this pretty body of yours from now on. Do you understand what that means for you?" He pulled out fast, his cum dripping from your pussy, his cock completely covered in the sticky white fluid. He sat back and leaned on his hands, looking at you with expectance. When you didn't seem to get it he pointed down to his still hard cock. "It means you do what I say, when I say it, and in return I'll fuck you until you go stupid from my cock."

His hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down towards him. "Does that mean you won't call other women anymore?" Your heart dared to flutter with the hope of being his only woman from now on.

"That depends on how good of a job you do. Or are you so selfish that you'd leave your future King unsatisfied?" Leona taunted and watched as your haze seemed to clear quit fast after that. You scrambled to sit in his lap, "You'll make for such a pretty fucktoy." He praised and lifted his hands to cup your tits, lightly massaging them.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and aligned with his cock, teasing yourself with it's tip. "I'll be anything you want. I'll be all yours." Leona's eyes locked onto the bitemark, he smirked as if knowing something he wasn't yet letting on. Whatever it was it could wait until you milked every drop of cum out of his hard cock.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twisted wonderland imagine #twst imagines #leona x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #leona kingscholar imagine #leona kingscholar fanfic #leona kingscholar x female reader #twst x you #twst x female reader #twisted wonderland x female reader #smut drabble

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ynbabe · 5 months

Text

Fake texts au- pt.12 bffs with the rookies+ Monaco for one, please!

Literally love the way anyone older than them has to be the babysitter 😭😭😭

| Masterlist |

The week you spent with Oscar and Logan was perfect in every way possible. You woke up with perhaps the worst backache you'd ever had, almost unable to breathe because Logan had shited his entire weight on you... well, that part wasn't perfect but the dinner you had afterwards made up for every ache and pain.

Oscar's mum made every favourite dish of yours and Logans, leaving a very jealous Oscar but at the end of the day, the three of you fell into the same routine you did as kids.

Sleeping late, Waking up even later and eating junk till you couldn't eat anymore (much to the dismay of their trainers) the only different thing is that all three of you couldn't bunk on the same bed. So you took turns, as suggested by Oscar's mother because your first idea was to fight for a spot on the bed.

But sadly, the week had ended and you had to leave, you hugged Logan and Oscar goodbye and made your way to Monaco, where you'd spend the rest of the summer vacation with Arthur.

He'd invited you not wanting to be alone while his brothers had their girlfriends and the last time he'd invited one of his friends from Prema, his mom had pulled him aside and given him the 'you know you can tell me anything, right, son?' he'd simply told her that he was just a friend, and anyways she should have been having the conversation with Charles anyway, with whatever he had going with Max, or with Carlos or Pierre.

You were a little nervous to go, never having been around his family before. You'd met Charles before and had become pretty good friends with him and Max but his mom? His Eldest brother? That was a whole other story.

He picked you up at the airport, drove you to the house, you offered to uber as you weren't allowed to drive in Monaco anymore (its a long story) when you walked in you hadn't realised everyone would be over and were currently on Arthur's back trying to get your phone back for the boy, which he had stolen when he saw the picture of you and Logan, oscar had sent you.

You looked around the room to find Charles, his girlfriend, his eldest brother, and their mother, staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

You jumped off your friends' back, snatching your phone in the process, "Um, hi, I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all!" You smiled hugging Charles and shaking hands with everyone else, trying to ignore your entrance.

"I'll go get the bags, yeah," he muttered as he left, his eldest brother following him.

"Maman, C'est une amie d'Arthur, celle dont je t'ai parlé," (Mom, She's one of Arthur's friends, the one I told you about), Charles said something to his mother in French, you tried to decipher with whatever Arthur had taught you over the years but they spoke too fast.

"Celui qui l'a emmené faire la fête?" (The one who took him to party?) She replied, her voice displaying disappointment, making the girl awkwardly standing next to the door frown at Charles for translation.

"Maman..." Charles began but his mother shushed him, making him look down.

Suddenly, the older woman's face and body language changed, doing a total 180, "Y/n, I've heard a lot about you, from Arthur and Charles!" She said with a smile, making the girl slightly jump in surprise, "Come on, sit, the boys will get your bags," she invited the youngest woman to sit and nodded at Charles to help get the bags, he wanted to protest but was nudged in the ribs by Alexandra, making him walk out in betrayal.

"Uh, hi guys," she said awkwardly feeling a little out of place. She felt like she was in front of a jury assessing her every move to give her life in prison and by the look on the mother's face, they were leaning in favour of the death penalty.

"Hi, Y/n," Alexandra began, quickly leaning forward as soon as her boyfriend left the house, " I've seen you around the paddock before, but mostly in Mclaren and Williams," She began, "I thought you were dating Oscar, right? Or Logan?" She asked making the girl cringe, she couldn't imagine dating one of her friends.

"Um, no, we're just friends, all four of us," she explained, this is so weird.

"And what about the hyper little British one?" Pascale asked making you laugh,

"Lando? I'm going to save his name like that from now on!" You smiled, "No, no, not at all, I think he's a little too invested in Carlos to even think about dating," you joked hoping to change the conversation, Alexandra smiled but Pascale remained unchanged.

"I've noticed, he's a sweet boy," she nodded, "Are you dating my son?" She asked, not sugarcoating anymore, making you choke on your spit, Alexandra quickly rushed to your side, patting your back.

"Thank you," you took the glass of water she offered, "I'm not dating Arthur!" You yelled as soon as you finished drinking the water, making his mother look at you suspiciously at first then nod.

"Thank you for being truthful Y/n," She began, "My kids are everything to me and they only have me to protect them. Lorenzo and Charles are old enough to understand just how cruel life can be, but Arthur's still naive," she explained slowly. It seemed like Alex had heard the same lecture too.

"Maman! Tell Charlie to stop kicking me!" Arthurs's voice rang as the trio stepped inside, proving her point.

"Maman, please, both of them won't shut up!" Lorenzo complained at his brother's antics, in true older sibling fashion.

"Only because you are stupid," Both Arthur and Charles replied at the same time making the eldest groan and place your bag down, to swat the others. Charles had your duffle and Arthur held your haversack, currently using it as a weapon to hit his brothers.

"Boys!" Their mother called out, making them all stop and pick up your bags, and carry them to some room in the house. Alexandra smiled at their antics and Pascale just shook her head.

"Sweetheart, come on, let's have some dinner, I'm sure the flight has you hungry and tired," She practically dragged you to the dinner table. You sat next to Arthur, Alex and Charles in front of you and Lorenzo and Pascle and either head of the table.

After the strange test of sorts, everything was normal, you joked along with the others, and the brothers often fought making you and Alex look at each other and laugh. You were getting along with her the most, being quite close in age and humour. However, as the night continued the jet lag became more and more of a problem.

Arthur was the first to notice your head falling as you sat, "Maman, We are going to turn in," you both began to get up but Lorenzo spoke up, making you stop.

" Où penses-tu aller?" (Where do you think you're going?) The older man asked.

"Ma chambre ?" (My room?) Arthur answered.

"Non, elle couche avec Alexandra, tu restes avec Charlie," (No, she's sleeping with Alexandra, you're staying with Charlie) He replied making both brothers angry.

They started talking over each other, yelling and shouting, you definitely made out more than one curse word. You looked over at Alex silently asking if she knew what was happening, but she just shrugged.

"You're so annoying, Lorenzo, Je jure devant Dieu que j'aurai une chambre d'hôtel !" (I swear to God I will get a hotel room!) He screamed making everyone quiet down.

"Don't yell at me, it was maman's idea," he looked at his brothers a little guiltily, making everyone look towards the eldest woman on the table.

"It's okay, Charlie, reste avec ta petite amie, Arthur soit avec ton ami." (Charlie, stay with your girlfriend, Arthur be with your friend.) Everyone seemed to be okay with the decision, though you didn't know what the decision was.

Arthur patted your shoulder, making you get up and follow him to his room. As soon as you walked in you kicked your shoes off, falling face-first on the soft king-sized bed. He followed suit, dropping himself on the opposite end of the bed, and turning his head to face you.

"I don't think your brother and mum like me very much, Princie," You spoke in a soft voice, too tired to even sit up.

"Nah, they are just over-protective," he answered, his voice nothing but a whisper.

Slowly your eyes drifted shut, letting yourself succumb to sleep.

"Bonne nuit, chérie."

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com @landosgirlxoxo @aquangxl @sachaa-ff @tyna-19 @assholeinatrenchcoat

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spookypete-94 · 5 months

Text

House Shopping with Simon Riley

Little drabble right before shift starts at work. Literally what the title says, but with public (not sure if you can call it that) but... having in a relations in a place you shouldn't?? SimonRileyxFemale!reader

Language, p in v, quickie

but just know NSFW NSFW NSFW!!!

Somehow, you had domesticated Simon "Ghost" Riley. It was baffling to everyone, including The Ghost himself. Not to you, however. Loving him was easy in your eyes. Someone so patient as you finding no chore in the task.

And that's why Simon literally bent over backward for you. Never at your request, though. You needed something? He was there with it shortly after you said it would help. Even when you wouldn't say anything. He noticed the tires on your car getting bald, paying for a new set, and replacing the worn ones.

It was the least he could do for you. So when it came to the next step, moving from a small flat to an actual house, he didn't hesitate. It had to be a place to make into a home. Strong, sound four walls to make sure you were in a safe place while he was away. With a nice view preferably with no close neighbors to be watching you while he couldn't shield you. A place with a kitchen for meals, and a big one at that. The bedroom needed to be large and spacious for your bed. Maybe even a few other rooms to fill later down the road with little bodies split of the image of you both. Only the best for his, Love.

Finally, a realtor had found a house with all the list of his demands. Taking the day, he told you to dress nice, business casual. You had dressed in a white crisp cotton collard shirt with a tight pencil skirt, and him in a white shirt matching with a black tie and slacks.

"Where are we going?"

"Lawyer."

"A lawyer?!" You asked, shocked, looking at him stunned while he backed up the vehicle, his arm draped over onto your seat.

"Lawyer." He confirmed.

"What for?"

"You'll see when we get there, calm down."

Fiddling with the hem of your skirt the entire time of the drive, you continued with the same nervous habit in the lawyer's office. Only now, you were bouncing your knee as well. Simon's hand reaching over and squeezing your thigh, his way of telling you silently to calm down.

The lawyer had sat down at his desk with a stack of paperwork next to him. It was about the third or fourth page in the stack that you understood that this had to do with a large sum of money. You just didn't understand what for. Your suspicion signified from a raised eyebrow to Simon, but all he wore was a knowing smirk.

"Just need you both to sign these pages," the lawyer you didn't even know his proper name said.

"What am I signing?" You asked

"Just trust me," Simon said, leaning forward pen in hand and sliding the paper over to you.

You sighed, frustrated, but his words enough to quell your worry and anxiety.

You tried to glance over the paperwork, still looking for any hints of what you were signing your life away too, but the jarble of the language too much to just get by skimming.

"Did you find one then?" The lawyer asked.

"Still have to look at it, but believe so." Simon answered.

Conveniently, all was said as you were signing the last page, leaving you unable to ask any questions. Simon stood up, hand out to you to grab. Feeling annoyed and left out, you did it anyway.

"Good luck," Mr. Unknown lawyer waved to you both as you left.

"Simon," your eyes burning into the side of his head.

"It's a surprise..." he said while laughing, watching you roll your eyes and groaning at the same time ,"I'm gonna show you."

"Show me?"

"Sit back," he said, giving you a side eye, tired of your questions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shock you felt was unexplainable when he pulled into a driveway of a home with a FOR SALE sign in the front yard.

"Si-mon," dragging his name out for effect.

"I want us to buy a home together." Blurting it like it had been killing him to hide from you.

"You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. Taking money out of a firm that I've had stored away for a while. This is the house closest that fits what I want to give you."

"SI-mon." The excitement you felt when he told he what he had been planning.

"Come on, realtor is waiting," he said, finally opening his car door. Quickly, you joined him, your heels clacking on the cement driveway with joy.

Just as Simon had said, there in the doorway stood a woman who was there to show the house. Holding a clipboard in a green pantsuit and large black rimmed glasses looking all prim and proper with a large smile. Ready to sell this house.

To say the house was stunning was an understatement. Vaulted ceilings, large kitchen with an island in the middle, pantry just off of it. Multiple bathrooms on both floors of the house. Natural light from the windows for days. Your attention was now looking over the bedrooms. Checking out a smaller closet that was between the master bedroom and guest room. The realtor you had learned her name as Peggy, walking around a room in the opposite direction.

What shocked you was Simon pushing you into this small linen closet and shutting the door behind him.

"Simon!" you said his name for the upteenth time today.

"Shhhhhh," he said grinning deviously as he stood before you.

The hot air from his shushing made your skin prickle, but him removing his black tye in a swift motion made your blood run cold. He made a swift loop after lifting your wrists above your head, wrapping it up around a wooden rod to hold hangers just above your head. Then, he pulled it tight as gently as your torso stretched perking your chest to him.

"So hard, not to touch you like this. " his mouth against your cheek and then into your ear. "Skirt looks so nice on you." Gasping, feeling his teeth nip into the pillar on your neck.

"Need ta' test the bones of this house, make sure it's good enough." Coy with a shit eating smile.

His fingers slipping up your skirt, pushing it up at the same time. There he rubbed against your core, making you moan.

"Shhhh," he said while chuckling. "Can't have Peggy hearing us. Worked so hard to find this house, can't ruin her work now." Teasing into your ear while he rubbed circles into your clit. Instead of taking the risk of getting caught, you leaned your head into his chest, masking your sounds there.

Pushing your panties to the side, his fingers rub your bare pussy. What he was doing was testing the waters, checking to see if you were wet enough to take him. Little did he know, your gates of arousal started to flood seeing him slip his tye off so quickly, revealing the collarbone you love to sink your teeth into.

"Dirty girl," he cooed into your ear while plunging a finger in. The stretch felt good but was pulled from you quickly. Your eyes narrowed at him in disappointment, but quickly changed to euphoria as his cock entered you abruptly.

You bit your lip trying to contain your moans, the whole situation hot to you. His large hands gripped your waist and set you on a narrow shelf, you assumed it was for shoes, but it was perfect for this. It allowed him to enter you faster and deeper. The position brought you closer to the brink, his pace perfect.

Your body was starting to catch fire, slipping your legs around him to pull him closer, sending you over the edge. Trying to roll your head back but unable to find anything to rest it on, let Simon see your eyes roll to the back of your head. You loved the feeling of being unable to move at his mercy and will. Thankfully, he was always into pleasing your needs quickly.

His chest lightly thundering with a chuckle watching you come undone.

His rhythm becomes harder, desperate for his own release. Slamming into you faster, you could feel his hot seed fill you making you whimper as your pussy clamped around him greedily taking it all.

"Good girl," he grunted, slowing down. Both of your shallow breaths filled the small space. Simon leaned down and kissed you as he pulled out. Quickly, you pushed your thighs together while he untied you from the rod. Once free, you pushed your panties back over to catch his cum before it dripped down your thighs and onto your black skirt.

"Like that?" He asked, still wearing his devil grin. Clearly, he was proud of the act.

"Very much so," you said helping him tie his tye.

"Hello??" Peggy said, while looking for you both.

It made you cringe a smile, and laugh amongst each other.

Simon tried to deflect the dirty deed you had just done together. Pushing the door open quietly, stating, "This is a perfect place to use, keep my tyes in." A statement that was a double-edge sword. It is a statement that not only you and Simon understood, but clearly, so did Peggy. Her jaw was slack mouth agape, making you both divert your eyes from her.

"It's perfect. We'll take it." Simon's tone almost boastful as he thought about the other places he would rail you in...or on.

Simon Riley Masterlist

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another-lost-mc · 9 months

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a/n: You know me so well bb! I've been thinking about this all day. 💚

barbatos x gn!reader [nb] | 0.6k words | sfw (fluff)

content/warnings: hinted established relationship with og!barbatos, solomon slander. 😈

Barbatos invites you to the castle for a late supper because someone has to look after you properly. He knows you spend so much of your time caring for everyone else. Who can he trust to feed you if not himself? Lucifer and his siblings? Solomon? No, he won't rely on the fallen angels to think beyond their own problems to worry about yours, nor will he subject you to more of that damned sorcerer's definition of edible food.

He’s worried that a detour to the castle will make your long day even more exhausting for you, but he can’t resist the temptation to offer his assistance. He dampens his cautious optimism and prepares himself for your apologetic refusal, but eagerness blooms in his chest when you thank him profusely for an excuse not to return to Cocytus Hall just yet. (You tell him that you could smell Solomon's food from outside the building, and you were lingering outside contemplating what to do next.) It doesn't take long for you to arrive at the demon lord's castle, and your eyes brighten sweetly when you notice him waiting for you on the front steps. You look relieved to see him, like you're greeting an old friend, or like you're coming home. He wonders what he’s done to deserve such admiration.

He realizes that he should've thought this plan through because once he leads you to the kitchen, he has no idea what meal to serve you. Dinnertime was hours ago, and everything has been cleaned and put away. He urges you to sit and relax at one of the countertops while he debates what he can make for you. He doesn't want to simply reheat leftovers for you—it feels like a waste of his talents. He can do so much more for you. He knows your preferences by now; he's seen the dishes you pass over and the ones you take seconds from. He hides his unpreparedness by distracting you with lighthearted conversation.

After a few minutes, you stand up and fill the kettle for a pot of tea. He can’t help but sneak glances from the corner of his eye as you move around the castle kitchen like you know it as well as he does. It doesn't escape his notice that you place two cups on the counter, or that you reach past the sugar in the cupboard and grab a jar of honey instead. You always seem to remember the little things he likes and doesn't like, the same way he remembers those things about you.

Dinner is plated not long after the tea is steeped and ready to drink. He looks forward to finally being able to focus on you, showing you the utmost respect and attention you deserve. He sits on a barstool next to you while you both chat idly over a plate of sandwiches and a light salad. He’s not used to this type of quiet intimacy and he hopes you don't notice. Your fingers nearly brush against his own when you both reach for food off the same plate. He sips your delicious tea and hides his smile behind the rim of his cup when you tell him amusing stories about your work earlier in the day. Your murmured words of appreciation for inviting you tonight are pleasing. Sometimes you nudge his shoulder playfully like you crave his closeness and not only the services he offers you. It goes against everything he is—professional, poised, collected. He shouldn't like this as much as he does.

Maybe he's simply not used to having friends, with the exception of the Young Master he dutifully serves. He's cooked elaborate feasts for demon lords, of course—spending hours in the kitchen to ensure everything was made and plated to perfection, watching blandly as hours of his hard work is consumed within minutes, bowing at the waist when he acknowledges each polite compliment they offer him. Once he's walked you home and he can retire to his room to contemplate, he’ll wonder why your praise for his simple cooking and modest company feels so much more satisfying in comparison.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x you #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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daddyricsdoll · 5 months

Text

Little celebration ✭ Liam Lawson

Summary: There was no doubt everyone beamed with smiles after Liam scored his maiden points in F1, which meant the race debrief between the two of you couldn't be the same as others. And you made sure of that.

Warnings: Oral (Male receiving) and unprotected sex.

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: It was exciting to write about Liam since I had wanted to for so long, so thanks to this anon for giving me that little push. Hope you enjoy!

The team start jumping and shouting all around the garage as Liam finishes P9. I couldn’t help but join them as we all celebrate my boyfriend's first points in F1 at his favourite circuit.

Just like every other race I would meet him in his driver’s room and he would tell me about his amazing experience in the car while I stare at him and listen intently. He’s always beaming with pink cheeks and a million dollar smile after a race, so when I see him walking toward his driver's room and our eyes meet, none of us hold back our sprints to each other.

He engulfs me in his arms and I whisper words of praise along the skin of his neck. I stay in his sturdy arms as he walks us into his drivers room and then lowers me onto the ground. I take in his state, suit hanging low on his hips and lips parted to catch deep breaths as he leans against the door behind him.

My hands slide down his clothed chest as my eyes look into his serene cobalt eyes. “How about we postpone the race debrief for a little celebration?”

“What do you have in mind?” He smirks at me.

“Let me show you.” I breathe out and make my way to the ground, kneeling in front of him on my knees. I look up at Liam and watch as he nods, resulting in my hands grabbing the top of his suit and sliding it down his legs, followed by his fireproofs. I have to hold back a moan as I watch his dick rest along his toned stomach just before my relatively small hand reaches out for it.

I hold him in my fist as my mouth inches closer and I leave little kitten licks over his tip. His groans make me smile while I finally lower my mouth onto him. My lips close around his dick and tongue circles around his tip before I finally bob my head as far down him as I can. I feel Liam's hand against the top of my head and his fingers intertwine in my hair.

He helps guide my head as it bobs up and down, his dick hits the back of my throat and a string of curses leave his mouth. Liam changes the pace, moving my head even faster that the tears welled in my eyes finally fled. I rubbed my thighs together trying to ease the need between them but it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped. But I forget about myself as I feel Liam’s dick twitch in my mouth, telling me he’s only mere seconds away from his climax.

So my tongue teases his tip and sucks it, just pushing off the edge and he ultimately cums in my mouth. I open my mouth and show him his cum on my tongue and he nods, lightly jutting his hips forward as I swallow. His calloused hand grabs my arms and pulls me back up to stand on my feet before placing me on the bed behind me and eagerly pushing the material of my flimsy dress up.

“Fuck” Liam mutters as his delicate fingers zealously slide my thongs down my legs. He barely gives me time to gain composure before I let out filthy sounds at the sensation of his dick thrusting into me. Each of his arms sit beside me to keep his exhausted but hungry body up. My hands grip his muscular shoulders for steadiness and lips fuse with his as we exchange whines and moans. Liam grasps one of my thighs and lifts my leg up beside his waist, resulting in reaching deeper and stroking my special spot even more intensely.

It was like he meticulously planned out what would make my toes curl and accelerate the release of my climax. It only took bare seconds until I released with a loud whine and my fingernails dug into his smooth skin. In the same amount of time he released as well, accompanied by deep groans. Liam concluded his last few thrusts as he rode both of our highs out. Little strands of his hair dangling in front of his forehead as they moved with the rest of his body.

“I should get points more often.” He jokes and I can only let out a light chuckle, pulling his head to mine for another kiss to finalise this amazing night in Singapore.

#liam lawson f1 #liam lawson imagine #liam lawson x y/n #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #liam lawson smut

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goldennikko · 1 year

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BELOVED UNNIE — le sserafim

summary : you're a tough person who never showed any signs of weakness, but then you got sick and the group went live, so you had no choice but to join them. you didn't let anyone know, but one of the girls noticed and the fans watched as they doted on you.

pairing : le sserafim x 6th member!reader

tags : f!reader ; idol!au ; reader is '98 liner ; platonic!eunchae ; but the other girls adore you (romantically or platonically? who knows)

requested: ✘

word count : 4k

you had been feeling awful since the moment you woke up. you were burning up, but you also wanted to spend the entire day wrapped up in a burrito. unfortunately for you, the group had to go to the hybe building, and here you were in the freezing dance practice room, wrapped up in yunjin's jacket, which wasn't enough to keep the cold at bay.

"ah, unnie is here!" chaewon said, waving you over. she hadn't noticed you leave the room before and got worried when they started the live and you weren't there.

the other girls cheered, with yunjin being the loudest of all. you smiled, but the noise made the painful throbbing in your head worse.

when you were within reach, chaewon grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit next to her. you tried not to wince at her strength; her grip wasn't tight, but the pull shook you enough to make you dizzy. you managed to sit next to her, waving and greeting the fans that were watching.

"hi, everyone~" your throat was scratchy, so your voice sounded a little different than usual, and sakura noticed it, leaning forward to look at you, but brushed it off when she saw you bouncing excitedly next to chaewon as the short-haired read the comment intended for you.

the girls gazed at you with adoration in their eyes as you answered the question. the fans pointed it out, causing eunchae to look at her unnies with a disgusted expression on her face.

you saw the maknae through the phone screen and burst out laughing. despite their confusion, the girls laughed along, founding you absolutely adorable.

"what? what? why are you laughing?" sakura asked.

you pointed at eunchae and she made the same face when you asked her to, the girls joined in on your laughter. your leader, on the other hand, kept a wary eye on you as you hid your face in your elbow.

chaewon grabbed your thigh and squeezed it to get your attention while they were busy with eunchae. you looked at her, brows furrowed in silent question. you slightly backed away from her as she leaned in close, not wanting any of your members to be near you at the moment.

chaewon narrowed her eyes. that was strange. you liked affection and didn't mind when the girls clung to you, so seeing you flinch away from her when she hadn't even done anything was strange.

you smiled nervously. "everything okay?"

i should be the one asking you that, chaewon thought as she observed your rather pale face, but had to look away from you when sakura called for her.

you sighed, mentally thanking sakura for drawing chaewon's attention away from you. your leader was too observant, or perhaps she just enjoyed watching you so much that she noticed everything about you.

however, the way she held onto your thigh and the look she gave you before turning away told you the conversation wasn't over.

a dance battle was suddenly proposed. you had no idea who suggested it and you didn't really care who because you were too busy panicking when you saw yunjin approaching you.

the dance battle was apparently going to be by pair and yunjin had chosen you as hers. the american slid across the floor on her knees, grabbing your hands that were covered by her jacket sleeves, finding it cute because her jacket almost swallowed you whole.

despite the pounding in your head, you laughed at her antics, causing yunjin to smile widely. her heart skipped a beat as she moved her face closer to yours. unfortunately, you couldn't pull away this time because she was holding you in place.

"be my partner, unnie." yunjin dramatically said, causing the girls to squeal while everyone in the comment section was going crazy.

you giggled and leaned down to rest your forehead on her shoulders, trying to play it off. when in reality, you were wincing against the fabric of her shirt. too loud, you thought.

"yes, yes. i'll be your partner." you murmured.

yunjin, thinking you were shy, let go of your hands and wrapped her arms around your body. you recovered quickly and rubbed her back, albeit hesitantly, before giving your hand to yunjin, who gently helped you to your feet.

sakura and kazuha had teamed up, leaving chaewon and eunchae together. yunjin had her arm around your shoulders, keeping you close, while chaewon scoured the comment section for a song to dance to. it took her a bit long because the leader would cast an occasional glance your way, watching you close your eyes for a brief moment. yunjin was too busy teasing everyone else to notice your struggle.

chaewon opted to choose a song at random, which was run bts. when the song started, yunjin quickly pulled you to the center and your body automatically moved to the music. sakura and eunchae were cheering for you both, while kazuha stood there silently in awe, clapping her hands.

you nailed the dance as usual, but chaewon couldn't help but notice the stagger every now and then from your part.

the leader was convinced that something was wrong with you at this point. after you had finished dancing, yunjin wrapped her arms around your waist and lifted you off your feet. as she spun the two of you around, you squealed and clutched her shoulders for dear life, masking your wince with a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

"we'll go next!" sakura volunteered and kazuha tailed her.

sakura crossed her arms and raised her brows at yunjin as the duo stood in front of you. the american gently put you back to your feet and you staggered slightly due to the room spinning, causing both the american and the ballerina to reach out to steady you.

"i'm sorry!" yunjin laughed, apologetic eyes trained on you. you waved her away, assuring sakura, who was worried as well before they were back to their silly antics.

"we will defeat you." sakura playfully said and yunjin played along, staring her down. "bring it on, unnie."

kazuha had switched sides, clinging to the sleeve of your jacket, while you simply chuckled at the scene before you two. you turned to her and finally saw the innocent eyes she was giving you.

you recognized that look, the hug me please look.

normally, you would give her a big hug, but you only wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed her before pulling away.

"hug please~" unsatisfied, the japanese pouted and whined, but you chuckled and patted her stomach.

"good luck, my zuha." you encouraged the ballerina.

that was enough for her, for now at least, and she beamed while thanking you. she was still going to get that hug later.

the japanese ballerina was too cute.

you walked away from the chaos, eunchae had joined them, and chaewon approached you with her arms wide open. you wanted to avoid her, but you were reminded of the live when sakura and eunchae briefly conversed with the fans, so you let chaewon hug you.

"shit. you're hot, unnie." she hissed quietly, one hand wrapping around your nape.

even if she didn't touch you, she could feel the heat you were emitting, but you were burning hot when her palm touched your skin. it's so hot that you could cook an egg on it. she narrowed her eyes at you, but worry was swimming in them.

you let out a sigh. there was no denying it any longer, but that didn't mean you couldn't dismiss her concern.

"i know, chaewon-ie. thank you." you joked and the shorter girl blushed heavily.

while that was correct, chaewon did not intend it that way. you chuckled, which caused the girl to glare up at you, and you raised your brows in amusement.

"you look like a chipmunk right now." you teased, ruffling her hair and walking past her.

chaewon was frustrated by your insufferable behavior at times. by that, she meant you always hiding it when you're not feeling well and acting casually about it even when confronted.

you sat on the floor and rested your head against the wall. the coolness of it reduced the intense pounding in your head. you melted against it. you noticed yunjin going to the phone to select a song for the japanese duo, but your attention was drawn to chaewon, who left the room after one last look at you.

you sighed. she was going to tell the manager for sure. you couldn't dwell on the thought for long, though, because you felt a weight on your lap. when you opened your eyes, you locked gazes with eunchae in the mirror.

"hi, unnie." the maknae grinned.

"hey, baby gorl~" you sang jokingly, making the young girl giggle uncontrollably, your fingers poking her sides. she wiggled as she tried to avoid you, but ended up melting against you.

whatever your circumstances were, you couldn't push everyone's favorite baby off you, so you let eunchae rest on you. you were relieved that you were fully clothed from head to toe to avoid any accidental direct skin contact.

you didn't want to worry her or anyone else in the group, so you didn't tell them. you were the oldest and they were all your responsibility, including chaewon, even though she was the leader.

yunjin had finally chosen a song, to which the japanese duo danced, with the three of you cheering them on. the american found herself standing next to both of your sitting forms, shouting encouraging words. eunchae was doing the same thing, though not as dramatically as yunjin, but more dramatically than you.

although you were in pain, sitting between your two loud members while sick was totally not ideal, you shouted along.

chaewon slipped inside quietly and your gaze was drawn down to the plastic bag she was carrying. yunjin and eunchae were too busy yelling to notice and the leader was concerned to see you now openly wincing behind eunchae, making sure to keep your face hidden from the camera.

too much. it was too much, you thought.

when sakura and kazuha finished dancing and everyone clapped, dramatic compliments were thrown everywhere, you broke eye contact with chaewon. you were just smiling and nodding as you rested your chin on eunchae's shoulder.

"cheer me on, unnie!" the maknae yelled, pointing at you as she stood up from your lap.

you grinned, putting your hands on top of where your heart should be. "i'm your biggest fan, baby gorl! hong eunchae! hong eunchae! hong eunchae!"

"why are you cheering them on, but not us?" kazuha chimed in, pouting at you.

kazuha was just joking, everyone knew that, but you freaked out. you flailed your arms in an attempt to deny it, but eunchae's laugh fueled the entire situation. yunjin was also not helping, the american was making fun of both of you.

"ooh, unnie~ even i will be jealous, too!" yunjin laughed at your pouting face before turning to the japanese ballerina, delivering a smack to her arm, causing kazuha to fly off to the side.

"no, no, no!"

meanwhile, sakura stood there, mindlessly swiping through the screen for a song to play. she had a small smile on her lips as you defend yourself against yunjin and kazuha, who had joined forces. by that point, eunchae was wailing on the floor. she only looked away when chaewon approached, tilting her head at the plastic bag she handed her.

"what's this?" sakura queried, but took it from the short-haired girl.

chaewon sighed, running a hand through her short hair in frustration. "y/n unnie is sick. she's burning hot right now."

sakura's eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on you. it made sense to her now why your voice sounded like that the whole time and why you appeared pale even from a distance.

the second eldest had also noticed your random staggerings earlier, but blamed it on the adrenaline coursing through your veins. even when you were sick, you seemed excited, but she would admit it was toned down a little.

sakura sighed. she placed far too much trust in you, but she should have known better. the japanese ushered chaewon to the center of the room, where everyone was still arguing.

"i'll handle this." sakura said and chaewon walked away, leaving the older girl to quickly select a song.

"stop, stop!" chaewon stressed out, dissolving the play fight between you.

you caught chaewon's eyes as you assisted eunchae from the floor. you gave her a subtle thumbs up and she curtly nodded before taking eunchae with her, the music finally playing in the background.

"wooh! go, baby gorl!" yunjin yelled while kazuha clapped excitedly from next to her, cheering along.

"chaewon-ah! you look so good!" you cheered teasingly and chaewon briefly glanced at you, scrunching her nose in disapproval, but you didn't miss the blush across her cheeks.

they began to dance and everyone erupted into cheers before you noticed sakura staring at you. she waved you over and you gave the leader and maknae one last cheer before approaching her. you were given a light pinch on the cheek once you arrived and you yelped in response to her affection slash brutal action and pouted at the japanese.

"you should've told us."

sakura handed you the water bottle and medicine, a disapproving look on her face. you sighed and avoided her gaze, not liking the disappointment in it before downing what you were given.

"i didn't want to worry you girls." you murmured.

sakura reached up to take your face in her hands, her frown deepening as she felt the intense heat on your face, and caressed your jaw with her thumbs.

"i know we're the oldest here. you're the oldest among us. but let us worry about you as well." sakura scolded lightly and you nodded, sighing in defeat.

you both joined the girls and distributed the extra water bottles brought by chaewon. yunjin, kazuha, and eunchae noticed your interaction with sakura and gave you two a puzzled look. you exchanged a look with your fellow '98 liner, who nodded, indicating she'd explain what was going on.

while you and chaewon were diverting the attention of the fans, sakura quietly gathered the girls behind you two.

"unnie is sick?!" yunjin whisper-yelled.

"yeah, she's hot." sakura mindlessly said, watching you carefully.

"she is." kazuha replied with a firm nod.

sakura shook her head frantically, she didn't mean to say you were hot like that. yunjin simply laughed in agreement with the ballerina. eunchae's jaw dropped to the floor before her expression turned into one of disgust and punched yunjin's arm, causing the american to laugh even harder.

their concerns returned when you turned around and left chaewon to cough into your elbow. yunjin was the first to approach you with her arms outstretched. you accepted her hug and watched as sakura dragged eunchae with her to the leader. you laughed at the maknae as she whined, wanting to console you.

while you relished yunjin's warmth, kazuha reached out to touch your forehead. the heat you were giving off caused the ballerina to scrunch her nose. yunjin rubbed her cheek against yours, her brows furrowed. you noticed their concern, so you smiled and patted yunjin's lower back while tapping kazuha's chin.

"i'm okay. it's just a fever." you whispered.

yunjin grimaced. "you're too hot, unnie."

"i know. thank you, babe." you grinned cheekily.

yunjin laughed at your confidence and backed away, allowing kazuha to take her place. as yunjin rubbed your back, the american watched you bury your face in kazuha's neck.

"don't blame me if you get sick afterwards." you mumbled.

kazuha swayed you gently. "you didn't give me a hug earlier." the ballerina pouted.

"okay, okay, my zuha. i'm giving you one now, aren't i?"

kazuha hummed happily in response.

yunjin smiled and leaned down to whisper in your ear, her lips brushing against your hot skin. "join us in a bit, unnie."

you gave her an almost unnoticeable nod because you were melting against kazuha, and yunjin kissed you on the head before joining the others.

kazuha's silence and warmth were soothing. the first part of the live was so chaotic that it was unbearable due to your headache, but you didn't want to worry the girls, so you stayed.

but now the ballerina was providing you with the soothing silence you craved.

kazuha didn't move and let you rest on her.

"come on, zuha, let's join them."

the ballerina was disappointed when you pulled away a moment later and dragged her back to the group, but she didn't say anything. eunchae quickly clung to your arm and sakura immediately asked you a question about something she had seen minutes before.

the girls fell silent as you explained your side of the debate, and yunjin listened intently while scanning the comments section, but then she noticed a comment.

i love how the girls go quiet when y/n is speaking <3

that reminds yunjin of the earlier chaos and she scolded herself internally for being too loud around you. eunchae was thinking the same thing because she had noticed yunjin freeze next to her and had read the comment as well.

the maknae pouted sadly, her grip tightening unconsciously around your arm, causing you to look down at the girl. you made a mental note to ask her later and opted to pat her on the head instead.

the girls continued to shower you with affection while being mindful of the volume of their voices around you. you had to end the live a few minutes later because your manager, whom chaewon had called earlier to take you all home, had knocked on the door.

you waved goodbye to the camera and soon found yourself in the back of the van with yunjin and eunchae, which you used as an opportunity to question the maknae about what had caused her behavior to change.

"eunchae?" the youngest hummed while the rest of the girls perked up at your voice. "everything okay?"

you didn't miss the way yunjin's and eunchae's shoulders tense up in response to your question. you ignored the other girls who turned around to listen and cast a brief glance at the american, but she avoided your gaze, so you focused on eunchae.

you tapped her chin to make her look at you as she had moved her gaze to her lap. "mind telling me?"

eunchae hesitated, but your soft gaze assured her that you weren't mad. you were tired, yes, but you were not mad.

"were we too loud?"

you blinked, perplexed by her question, and simply chuckled. you felt yunjin's gaze on you, so you briefly met her gaze before tapping eunchae's chin again to console her.

"yes, everyone was, but you didn't know i was sick. it's okay, princess."

"sorry." yunjin murmured.

you nudged the american, making her look at you. you raised your brows at her. "what did i just say, hm?"

yunjin pouted and buried her face in your hair while eunchae grumbled her argument. you only chuckled and comforted the girls in your arms. chaewon and sakura had taken out their phones to take photos, while kazuha looked like she wants to leave her seat and join you three.

but they were relieved to hear you say that, too.

"but please, unnie, tell us if you're not feeling well." chaewon joined in.

the spotlight was back on you in an instant.

you apologetically smiled and nodded. "sorry."

"that's why you stole my jacket." yunjin pointed out.

you grimaced at her sparkling eyes. "i prefer the term borrowed, jen, but yes."

yunjin shook her head. "stole, unnie. stole."

sakura chuckled at your banter. "hopefully, there won't be next time, but tell us. you hear me, l/n?" she scolded lightly.

"rely on us, too, unnie." kazuha mumbled, but you heard her.

apart from sakura, kazuha relied heavily on you for her korean because you can also speak japanese. you looked after her during her trainee days and continued to do so; you would even accompany her when she wanted to go exploring. the ballerina desired that you rely on her to repay the favor.

not only her, but the rest of the girls, too.

chaewon relied on you and sakura. as the leader, she felt a lot of pressure, so you were always there to give her comfort, assurances, and lots of hugs. when it became too much, you'd take charge. she'd find herself making her way to your room in the middle of the night to ask for it and you'd always give without complaint.

when the hate over her debuting again became unbearable, sakura turned to you. you always know when that happens and the japanese will cling to you while you reassure her. the first time it happened was when you came home late from an individual schedule and caught her in the living room. after that, you cooked her favorite japanese food despite the fact that all you wanted to do at the time was pass out on your bed.

kazuha was there, too, but she had no idea what was happening and just joined you because she caught the smell from her room.

when yunjin arrived in hybe, you were the first person she met. you were her first friend there, so she was more attached to you than to anyone else. you were always there to reassure her that she, too, deserved to make her debut, but perhaps the timing wasn't quite right. that's how you and the american met; she was crying about it in a practice room, and you took her out to dinner afterwards.

finally, eunchae, whom you had claimed as your daughter. everyone knew not to mess with eunchae because you'd always be there to back your daughter, no matter what. she'd cling to you whenever she missed her family and you'd give her the affection she craved.

and you, you were tough, and chaewon sometimes curses you for being tough. you were the oldest, so you always tried your hardest to keep your cool so you could be there for the other girls.

they hadn't seen you in a vulnerable state.

and now, you were sick; even if it was a minor thing, the girls would do their best to nurse you back to health.

you sighed, but a smile was on your face. "okay."

"good. you're sleeping with me, unnie." chaewon's sudden announcement caused a commotion inside the van.

"no way." the girls immediately said in unison and yunjin even added another comment to emphasize her disapproval. "what are you saying?"

chaewon crossed her arms. "i need to monitor her temperature."

sakura quickly shook her head. "i can do that, chaewon. leave it to me."

yunjin leaned forward and made a 'x' with her arms. "unnie is sleeping with me!"

"i want to take care of unnie, too!" kazuha raised her voice.

"me, too." eunchae almost flew out of her seat, eager to join the argument.

you sat there, your brow furrowed in amusement. you sat quietly listening as the girls argued about who you should sleep with tonight. the girls' antics were amusing, but your head was pounding again, and you could tell your manager was concerned by the way he looked at you, so you stepped in.

"quiet."

the girls quieted down at your commanding, albeit scratchy, voice, and you almost coughed because you had raised your voice so much that it irritated your throat. they looked at you, sheepish and apologetic, and you sighed.

"everyone will sleep in the living room. we'll make a pillow fort."

because their beloved unnie's words are their command, they exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement. you sighed and closed your eyes, yunjin resting her head on yours and eunchae leaning against your shoulders.

"no more hiding, okay?" sakura told you later on as you got out of the van.

"promise, kkura." you gave her a gentle smile and nod, squeezing her hand before dragging her into the dorm.

they may be annoyingly loud at times, but you love them for it.

but you do wish they'd tone it down for the time being before your head explodes.

nikko note: this is a bit too long, i hope that's okay? i'm so sorry. how was it? T^T anyway, hope you enjoyed it! thanks for reading!

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 11 months

Text

when my hands were caked with dirt at the foot of the grave, you loved me still; ask atrocity of me and see how i tremble with willingness at the sound of your voice.

mt19 x reader: everyone loves to be taken care of.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex/fingering (m on f, another exception!), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), kind of oral fixation (have you seen the state of that mouthguard), hair-pulling (bring back the curls), lots of praise and tension and all that nonsense, lots of talk about alcohol, also a lot of emotions! (be warned about those damn emotions! this one has a similar vibe to my qh43 og snakes one, i think), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(long a/n: my favorites - when i tell you i got carried away (again). but how could i not, when mt19 could not even play in the final cup game because he broke the bone that protects his heart? when poetry like that calls, you have to answer. the playoffs inspired me, mt19 inspired me, enough that i created this fictionalized mt19 character that is basically a bunch of insecurities personified. and the other character is just more of those in bartender form (i loved my bartending years! but they gave me a lot to think about!). so, sorry. this one’s a little sad, sometimes. but you guys seem to like the sad shit, so i hope you like this. apologies if i get caught up in the theatrics, at times. we haven’t done a takeaway in a while, so here’s one - you deserve to be chosen and loved and taken care of because you’re you, not just because you’re around. on a less serious note, can you tell how infatuated i am with mt19′s tooth gap? yeah, i know, i made it too obvious, i need to relax. i got a couple okays on the princess name, so if you don’t like it, you should have said something. am34 is up next, i’m thinking some classic older brother’s best friend, we’ll see if the muses are kind to me. please let me know what you think, i think i’ve made it obvious that your interaction means everything. also you guys literally should have seen me trying to figure out the physics of fucking against a barstool, it was legitimately ridiculous. gif is not mine. sending so so so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. see you soon. be your own first choice.

meeting new people simply came with the job of bartending. new faces filtered in and out of your bar like wisps of fragrant smoke, most of the time too fleeting to truly remember, never mind get to know.

however, the first day he entered your bar, a peculiar feeling hovered around you: the feeling that you already knew him, deeply and personally.

of course, you recognized him and his small group of teammates from the games that constantly played on the screens above the bar, but this was different. you couldn’t quite place the reason behind the feeling, not yet.

he didn’t approach the counter right away, but it was a saturday night, a busy one, so you were constantly being pulled from one patron to another, barely noticing the passage of time as your hands seemed to never stop moving.

but at some point, there he was, sitting at one of your stools, looking at you like he had all the time in the world, a confident, just bordering on arrogant smirk slanting across his face. you didn’t have the presence of mind or time to appreciate the rest of him, not right now.

but you were paid to treat all customers the same. and at the end of the day, that’s what he was, at least then. just another customer on a busy, hectic night.

“what can i get you?” you asked as you mixed a drink for the party at the other end of the counter. your voice was steady, knowing, friendly, but only just.

his smirk deepened as he leaned forward. “all business for the princess, hm?”

your brow furrowed in confusion before you realized where the name had come from. you absentmindedly adjusted the plastic tiara a birthday party had given you earlier that night - the group of girls around your age had gushed about how delicious their drinks were, how you had made their night, how you just had to have it, how it would look so pretty with your hair.

they were sweet, and they tipped well, so you didn’t push the birthday girl’s hands away when she slid the crown from her head and onto yours, even smiling a bit at the gesture. it was hard not to smile at women being girls again, and you loved the opportunity to be apart of it.

“princess is my side hustle,” you said to him now, keeping your tone even as you poured the colorful drink you were mixing into two glasses.

he made a face that you couldn’t decipher before leaning on one of his hands. “well, listen,” he started, to which you raised a brow. you didn’t like being told to listen - you just did, it was something you were good at, and being told to made you not want to anymore. he nodded to the group he came in with. “my friends over there bet that i couldn’t get your number. want to help me prove them wrong?”

you turned to drop off the drinks before running his words over in your mind. you were hit on all the time, another part of the job. people were attracted to being taken care of, and it was your job to take care of them, which always led to some misunderstandings, some one-sided crushes, some regulars that tipped much more than they needed to.

but something in your stomach dropped at his wording. you didn’t like it, not at all.

“did they?” you asked, actually focusing on his face for the first time that night as you ran a rag over the counter. his eyes were blue, so, so, blue, and almost comically confident, unwavering. as was his smirk, his full lips so perfectly placed and practiced, not quite like a natural habit but more like a learned one.

and then there was the brutal cut of his jawline, only made more prominent by his scruff of facial hair. the way his hair curled over the tops of his ears, a youthful but not juvenile look. his long lashes, elegant nose, flushed complexion, it was a little too perfect, at least for you, right now.

all of his features together appeared more like a masquerade ball mask, not a real, genuine face. it was off-putting, this actor in front of you, the one you had seen on television so many times.

he hummed in affirmation, smirked deeper.

you sighed. “that’s too bad,” you said, to which he gave you what looked like his first genuine expression of the night - one of confusion. “i only give my number to people who ask for it because they want it.”

you had long ago learned your lesson about being the person someone spent time with in order to please someone else. it never ended well.

his brow furrowed in further disbelief, complete lack of understanding, maybe a bit of shock, but you only tossed the rag aside and grabbed a glass. “now, how about a drink?”

he didn’t respond for a second, searching your face for something, maybe an explanation, less probably a spark of remorse. you let him. you weren’t going to budge on this, not tonight, not for him.

he shook out of it, literally, a small shake of his head before the mask was back on, in full strength. “yeah, sure. just an ipa, whatever you’ve got.” he addressed you by the name on your name tag, an act you normally hated, but didn’t mind so much now, in his deep tone.

you gave a small grin as you filled a tall glass. “thank god,” you started. “after the million mixed drinks i’ve had, you might just be my favorite customer.” you set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of him, only meaning to meet his eyes for a second.

once you did, though, you did a double take, now trapped in his gaze, completely transfixed on the pure hope you found there, so devastatingly poorly hidden. this, this was genuine, no mask to be found. the innocent hope lit up his eyes, his face from within, exposing an almost childlike expression that had you so deeply intrigued.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice no longer oozing with arrogance but instead with something you knew well. unbridled wanting. hope, hope, hope. he might as well have the word please scrawled all over his face in thick marker.

you felt your lips curl up at this new discovery, this crack in his exterior that gave you a sense of deja vu. “yeah, matthew,” you said, a little slowly, letting the rest of the bar melt away for a second.

this moment felt hot, sticky, like you were both suspended in amber, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.

but moments don’t last forever, and suddenly one of his friends was slapping him on the shoulder, saying something loudly about taking too long. you weren’t really listening as you watched his face again harden into that confident expression.

he ordered a round for his friends, and the moment was gone, lost in the neon light, and you were soon pulled again to another patron, the chaotic rhythm of saturday night overtaking you again.

you didn’t see him for the rest of night, caught up in your work. towards the end of your shift, though, you happened to look up, towards the door, urged by some magnetic force, and found his gaze awaiting yours right before he walked out of the door.

a real face, a real look, unveiled and vulnerable, swimming with heat and hope and a million other dangerous things. an expression so true that you had to look away from it’s veracity, complete candor. when you looked up again, he was gone, and you assumed that would be the last time you saw him.

so, a couple nights later, deep into your shift, you almost dropped the glass in your hand when you turned and found him sitting on that same stool at your counter, looking up at you expectantly with those storybook eyes.

“matthew,” you said, softly in greeting, almost a question, confused at his presence, especially on a weeknight, without his teammates. alone, seemingly.

“princess,” he responded, an imperfect smirk playing across his mouth, revealing more teeth than he had the previous night - enough that you could see the gap between his two front, a little detail so beautiful you might have sighed.

“no crown tonight,” you responded, half smiling.

“it was never the crown,” he said, to which you gave a slight shake of your head. it didn’t hide your shy delight.

“where are your friends?” you prompted, slightly suspicious.

something that looked like hurt flashed ever so briefly across his eyes. “they’ll be here, princess, don’t worry.”

you shrugged. “wasn’t worried. just wondering why you’re here alone.”

your last word seemed to strip him entirely, lay him bare in front of you, completely vulnerable. you regretted it immediately, felt almost mean.

“but i guess you’re not alone, right? you’re here with me?” you gave him a smile, tried to will one out of him, too, half-succeeded. “ipa?” you asked, eager to bring this interaction back within the boundaries you were familiar with, ones you could control.

“whatever you’ll give me,” was his odd reply, one that had you scrunch up your face instead of reaching for a glass. “ipa works.”

your voice was laced with confusion. “i know it works. what do you want, though?”

again there was that child-like look in his eyes, veiled by a thin film of doubt, uncertainty.

and somehow you thought you knew what might have been holding him back. you shifted forward, leaned on your elbows, closer than you had been to him before. “what if i promise you’ll still be my favorite, hm? will you tell me then?”

you watched his gaze dip down to your mouth as you spoke, linger there before meeting your eyes again. not like you minded, much as you wanted. a spark of warning fired in your stomach. don’t get too close, it mumbled, you can’t fill anyone’s void.

unfortunately, it was hard to deny the utter satisfaction you felt when he looked at you like this - like you had wiped away all the bad things in the world.

but then hands landed on his shoulders, loud greetings between friends exchanged, ripping you both out of the moment.

“now i know why chucky wanted to come back here,” one of them said eventually, looking at you with a gleam in his eye you didn’t quite like. “i remember you, beautiful.”

“shame,” you said, “i don’t remember you.”

he put a hand over his heart like he’d been hurt, but his smirk was brutally arrogant, almost animalistic. “how about we make sure you don’t forget my name again, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes. “matthew, come get your dog,” you said as you grabbed a couple more glasses and began to pour the same drinks they had ordered the other night.

“you want me to start barking? ‘cause i will,” the persistent teammate pushed before turning to his side. “but it seems like you’re the one she’s got on a leash, matthew.”

you watched his face carefully as you slid the drinks their way, interested to see what would win out - the desire to maintain his mask around his friends or whatever was building between you two.

you bit your lip as you watched the internal struggle play out across his face, shooting a pleading look your way for a millisecond.

you decided to throw him a bone, put his friends in their place. “i meant to tell you. i put your game on yesterday,” you said to him.

“did you?” he asked, so blissfully hopeful.

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, letting yourself get a truly greedy look at him. “but i like you better in person.”

you reveled in how desperately pleased he looked by your admission.

“we were playing too, you know,” someone said, half laughing.

“were you?” you asked, a theatrically confused expression on your face. you shrugged. “don’t think i saw you. maybe i was distracted.”

one of his friends laughed. “don’t feed him, beautiful, he’ll just keep coming back.”

but you didn’t even look at whoever said the comment, instead completely locked in on matthew, and he on you.

“god, i hope so,” you said, barely more than a whisper, only meant for him.

just something you said, a true thing, and yet he did. every couple of days you would look up and there he would be, on that stool at your counter, looking up at you. sometimes his friends would come, and sometimes they wouldn’t, and on nights he was playing you would always put the game on the television where you could best see it, so you could best see him.

and despite everything he did, everything he said to you, which screamed longing and interest and want, you were surprised every time he came back. surprised that his interest in you didn’t wear off after the first couple indulgences, like it seemed to with everyone else.

but, then again, matthew struck you as the kind of person who could make a home out of anything, anyone - like the kids who would cry if someone tried to come into their treehouse, as if the magic of the place was defined by it being all for them.

sometimes this job made you feel like a building with a revolving door, so many faces fading immediately as they came into your life. it felt so good to have whatever this was, this constant, even if that warning voice tried to convince you it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last.

one night, when you put his away game on, he was picking fights, antagonizing the other team, all the while chewing on that abused mouthguard, which never failed to catch your attention, send a little shiver down your spine, make you wonder what those teeth would feel like on your bottom lip, your fingers, your neck.

this night, though, the officials had had enough, and handed him a game misconduct. he skated off the ice, into the tunnel, chants and boos echoing through the arena so loudly that even the television cameras caught their strength.

still, when the camera focused in on matthew’s face, there was nothing but that cocky, knowing smirk, that one that he had showed you the first day. that fake one. you narrowed your eyes at the tv, felt your stomach turn at the fact that he could be two people at once. how could you ever trust him that way? how could you ever believe that he really, truly, wanted you? that warning voice compressed into a lump that settled in your stomach.

the lump was still there that next night, and so was he, there in his usual spot, right before you were about to close. “missed you, princess,” he said, those blue eyes so full of meaning.

and you hated how those words meant so much to you. “yeah?” you asked, wiping down the counter. “what’d you miss?”

you expected the answer that so many people in your life had given you before: how they liked how you made them feel, how you paid attention to them. nothing about you, rather something that said more about them.

so you were stunned when his gaze dropped to you lips and stayed there. “think i started to dream about your smile,” he said, and you may have sighed, just a little, as you felt your cheeks flush.

“did you watch me?” he asked, that spark of hope lighting up his face in a silent plea.

you nodded slowly, remembering the game. “wish you had stayed on the ice longer.”

he shrugged, the motion emphasizing the muscles in his shoulders and neck. you pretended not to notice.

“why do you smile when they hate you?” you asked, your head tilted in genuine curiosity, recalling his face as he made his way down the tunnel.

there was that mask again. “i love it.”

“you don’t,” you said, shaking your head slightly, watched him swallow.

“what?” he asked. you could have imagined the smallest shake in his voice.

“you don’t. you do that other smile you do.” you didn’t tell him your theory, that you knew if a crowd booed loud enough, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend they were cheering, instead. pretend it was love.

he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff. “what other smile?”

you bit your lip, unsure how to explain it. you reached your hands forward, paused for a moment as his eyes widened, so flooded with want. that beautiful second of expectation before a first touch, the first of what you inherently knew would be many.

“like-” you put your hands on his face, ever so lightly, moved his lips until that cocky smirk was opposite you. “like this.”

“like this, princess?” he asked through your fingers, his breath on your palms, and heat thrummed in your stomach.

you nodded slowly, reluctant to take your hands off of him. “and my favorite one is like this,” you said, moving his lips again until you were satisfied with the replica smile you had created, toothy and wide and beautiful - until you realized he was smiling at you like that anyways, without any manipulation.

you grinned back at him, melted at the simmering heat and longing in his eyes. before you could question it, you let yourself tap one finger to his front teeth, feeling the gap there, that imperfect feature you had most loved when you first saw it, felt your throat tighten at the way he was looked at you, the way he let his mouth just barely close around your finger.

a feather light motion that made your next breath come out shaky before drawing yourself away. you hadn’t realized just how close you had drifted towards him, even with the counter between you.

you glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it much later than you expected. “i need to close,” you said, clearing your throat. “i need to count the register.”

“okay.” he looked dazed. maybe in a cartoon there would have been pink mist or little hearts floating around his head.

you tried to collect yourself, ignore the phantom of his lips around your finger, a ghost of a kiss, a promise, a plea.

you gave a shake of your head. “i need to sit there. the register unlocks from that side, in front of your chair.”

your stomach dropped at the sudden darkness his eyes took on, so much so that you knew you would give in to whatever he said next.

instead of getting up, he pushed his hips up and back, spread his legs apart, settling deeper into the seat. “seat’s open, princess,” he said, and the confidence in his voice, all over his face, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t a mask.

it was real, genuine, set ablaze by your touch.

you looked around. you were closed, everyone was gone on this monday night, except the owner, a lady older than sin who was mopping in the corner, and who was known for minding her own business.

there was nobody to judge you there, nobody to punish you for giving into this, exactly what you wanted.

time felt like jelly as you made your way around the counter, paused for a beat in front of him before he helped you up onto his lap by your waist, faced you towards the register drawer, let his arms rest around your middle.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his breathy rasp warm on your neck.

you breathed out a yes, slightly overwhelmed by all of this touch at once. his chest behind you, radiating heat, his thighs firm below you, thick arms around you. here he was, everywhere, all at the same time, and after only interacting with a counter between you, this felt almost absurdly perfect, forbidden.

so perfect that it took every semblance of your concentration to unlock the register drawer, to push the rise and fall of his chest to the back of your mind, to ignore how your own body seemed to melt into his, relax completely, an utterly miraculous contrast to the stiff, constantly active way you usually were at work.

“still okay?” he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder. you could feel his facial hair through your thin shirt, smell his cologne, knew you would smell like it, too. his thighs flexed underneath you, and you could have moaned. you were having trouble focusing on counting, never mind answering his question.

he rumbled with a laugh you felt more than heard. “princess?”

“still okay,” you managed, “but you have to be still. i need to count.”

you felt him nod and smile into your shoulder as you got to counting, the rhythm of the bills eventually lining up with the rhythm of his breathing against your back, so peaceful and right that maybe, eventually, you both would have fallen asleep like this.

“finished,” you whispered when you were done, organizing everything back where it needed to go, soaking up the last few moments of his touch for that night.

“already?” he asked, although it had probably been half an hour.

you hummed, pushed yourself up and off of him, even as his hands continued to reach for you, his gaze hungry.

so hungry it scared you. you still didn’t quite know if he just wanted someone, or if he wanted you, if he would have acted this way for anyone who asked the right questions, gave him the attention he craved, saw through his mask.

hungry, hungry, hungry, and what scared you most was that you knew that you weren’t hungry for just anyone. only for him. and that question of reciprocation, it was like injecting ice into your blood.

“it’s late,” you said. “you have to go.”

if he was hurt, he didn’t show it, seemingly completely fine with taking things however slowly you wanted to. “okay,” he said. “may i have your number, please?” there was your favorite smile.

you smiled, despite yourself. “why?”

maybe it was the late hour that caused him to misspeak when he said, “because i want you.” he quickly realized his mistake and flushed, only just. “it!” he corrected, looking like a kid with chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat schmeared all over his face. “i meant i want it.”

you fluttered at his mix-up, delighted that maybe he meant what he said. enough that this time, you didn’t deny his request.

it was a while before you saw him again in person, as he had back to back games and then several away contests before coming home again. but, like always, you put him on the screen by the bar, feeling yourself warm every time the camera caught his face.

one night, a late night, a couple hours after one of his games had ended, you looked up and you saw him at the doorway.

a bad feeling immediately bloomed inside you.

it had been a tough loss, close until the end, and one of his stupid penalties had forced a power play goal in overtime for the opponent. worse, this result had been crucial for their playoff bid. it wasn’t looking good.

you had not expected to see him tonight - he usually didn’t come by on game nights, only on nights off. and he didn’t look right as he stood under the neon signs at the door, he looked off. he looked drunk.

his speech was slow and slurred, making you cringe. after a couple of years at this job, oh, how you hated drunk people. oh, how you never wanted to see him like this, so at the mercy of something as truly stupid as alcohol.

and even more so, how you hated to see him drink himself stupid, how you wanted to make everything all better. you signaled for the bar-back to cover for a moment.

you walked around the counter and approached him. “matthew,” you began, “what’s going on?” you tentatively touched his forearm before grabbing one of his hands, wrapping it in both of yours, bitterly aware that he was not present as you were.

“oh, princess,” he said, stumbling just a bit into your grip as you pulled him outside. he mumbled something you couldn’t hear before laughing, but the laugh was cruel, devastated.

when you were outside, the only audience was the small group of smokers that always hung around the front of the bar. you took his face in your hands. “tell me what happened.”

“what happened?” he said slowly. “what happened?” he repeated, maybe asking himself. “ruined it, always ruin it, ruin everything.” his voice came out like a haunted childlike sing-song. it made your heart shatter.

you looked in his eyes, still holding his face. “you do not ruin everything, okay? you just need to go home and sleep this off.”

“princess, princess, always tryna’ make me feel better,” he slurred, letting the whole weight of his head rest in your hands, your fingertips touching the wisps that curled around his ears. he stumbled forward into you. “need to kiss you, yeah? make me feel better.”

you dropped your hands from his cheeks as if you had been scalded. if your heart wasn’t broken before, it was now, as you pushed his chest away while he leaned forward. you felt tears begin to prickle on your waterline.

of course, he wanted you now, when he was begging to be taken care of, when he was outwardly desperate to be reassured, when his vision was probably so impaired that he couldn’t really even see your face.

of course he wanted you now, when you could have been anyone.

“one of our cabs will take you home,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice as you waved one over, barely able to look at him.

he pouted. “what?” he said, teasing, but there was a bite to his tone. “don’t like me like this? not your favorite anymore?”

you didn’t have the energy to scoff. “don’t be mean. sober up. goodnight.” you opened the car door for him, forced him down into the seat.

“don’t you want to kiss me?” he pressed, looked up at you, like he had before so many times from his barstool. like he had so many times, when it had been different.

oh, how they love to be taken care of. and look at you, taking care of them. desperate, foolish girl.

and even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, to say no. “ask me when you’re not out of your mind.” you shut the car door and turned away, wiped your eyes with your sleeves quickly and methodically before taking a breath and getting back to the bar, to your job.

but you were a shell of yourself for the rest of the night, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. make me feel better.

so you blocked his number that you had just added, sighed of relief when one of your colleagues mentioned his team was headed away for a long stretch on the road. a week and a half without him. surely, completely isolated from him, you could forget about what happened.

and you half-believed that, until you came into work that next day and realized you would not be completely isolated from him at all.

right next to his stool there sat a bouquet of flowers and a red jersey, folded up. you already knew what name was on the back. you stood still at the entrance, reluctant to approach the offering.

“left it earlier,” the owner called from across the room, sweeping. “i told ‘m to fuck off, but he wouldn’t.”

“thanks anyways,” you said.

“i asked him why not,” she continued, the barest hint of a smile on her thin lips.

you furrowed your brow, confused.

“asked why he wouldn’t fuck off,” she said, “took him a second.”

you breathed out a laugh.

“said you didn’t know how much he cared, yet. and he needed you to know.”

you swallowed. “that’s nice of him,” you said, running the words over in your mind.

“not everyone deserves your second chances,” she said. “but i don’t let just anyone in our bar before we open.”

the words settled between you like diamond dust. the owner finished sweeping and left.

you approached the gift, found a note sitting on top of it in terrible handwriting.

i’m sorry, it read, i’m back next thursday. i’ll ask you then. you wondered briefly what he was going to ask you before you recalled what he had said to you that night when you put him in a car. your inability to fully turn him away.

you took a shaky breath as you read the last line of the note.

even if i’m not your favorite, you’re still mine.

your stomach fluttered, surprising you. so simple, and yet those words meant everything to you. that even when he got nothing from you, he wanted you still.

you hoped and hoped and hoped he meant it, and you believed it enough that you put the flowers in a vase and wore the jersey for each of his game days.

thursday came faster than you thought it would, probably because of how nervous you were. in this time apart, anything could be true. he could mean what he said, he could want you and only you, you could be counting down the minutes until finally kissing him, touching him how you so desired.

deep down, you were so deeply afraid that when he showed up, if he even showed up, that dreamy facade would be broken, and instead all of your greatest worries and insecurities would be realized.

throughout your whole thursday night shift, you were jittery, versions of how tonight could play out flashing through your mind.

the entire night flew by, until eventually it was time to close, and you tried to ignore your heart sinking. maybe this version of tonight, the one with you alone, maybe this one was for the best.

you counted the register, began to mop, waved goodnight to the owner as she left for the night and reminded you to lock up.

you did your final wipe-down of the counter, feeling the devastation begin to finally set in. you scrunched up your face, told yourself you wouldn’t cry on your bar top.

“princess.”

you looked up, and there he was, draped in neon light, and for a second it looked like sunlight streaming in through church stained-glass windows.

the sentiment didn’t seem altogether different. how many prayers had been answered at this bar? how many homemade temples had been elicited? how many haphazard gods?

“didn’t think you were coming,” you said as he made his way over to you, sat down on his stool, exactly the same dynamic as that first day, but there was no one else. only you and him.

“it’s my fault you ever had a doubt,” he said, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes, an ocean of apology.

you nodded, tossed the rag aside, rested your forearms on the counter and looked at him, eye to eye, and waited for him to say something.

“i’m sorry,” he said simply, and there was no mask to be found, only genuine regret. “i’m sorry i showed up here the way i did, i’m sorry i embarrassed you at work, i’m sorry i made you feel like just another person.”

you felt your heart stitching itself back together, however painful the process. he gently took your hands in his, warm and rough and firm. “you’re not just another person, okay, princess?” his voice was rough.

your exhale was choppy, so forced you had to close your eyes for a second. how long had you waited to hear somebody say that to you?

“you didn’t embarrass me,” you whispered. “i could never be ashamed of you.”

he gave the smallest laugh, shook his head. “even now, that’s what you focus on. how i’m feeling.”

“only because i care about how you’re feeling,” you said, almost defensive.

“you gonna let me care about how you’re feeling?” he asked, his thumbs tracing circles on your palms.

you stayed quiet, bit your lip, searched his eyes for an trace of doubt, falseness, didn’t find any. only a slowly simmering flame, drowning in want.

“you’re too far away,” you whispered.

“i’ve always resented this counter,” he said with a hint of a smile.

you gave a small smile back as you walked around the bar top, finally stood in front of him, exhaled before sitting down on top of him, your legs straddling his hips, your faces only a breath apart. you clasped your arms around his neck, leaned forward into his chest as his hands settled on your hips.

“ask me,” you all but begged.

his voice was a low rasp, his gaze syrupy with lust. “don’t you want to kiss me?”

you nodded, and he smiled, and then you were leaning forward, finally capturing his lips in a kiss that felt like neon light and television static and a million pleases, all finally answered with of course, anything for you.

you let yourself melt into his chest, tangled a hand in his curls, felt his grip tighten on the flesh at your hips.

he smiled into your mouth when you ran your tongue along the gap between his front teeth, groaned when you began to move your hips back and forth across his lap.

you tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck as you felt him grow harder beneath you, to which he bit down ever so lightly on your bottom lip, the feeling even better than what you had imagined all those times you had watched him gnaw on his mouthguard.

he used his grip to set your hips into a rhythm as you ground down on his lap.

“want to taste you so bad, princess,” he breathed into your mouth. “let me take care of you, yeah? just want to make you feel good.”

you nodded feverishly, tugged at your clothes as he lifted you off of his lap and rested you back onto the counter.

laid bare for him, you become aware of how wet you already were, perhaps the result of all the waiting, the questioning, the wanting that had existed between you both since the beginning.

he groaned at the sight of you. “fuck,” he rasped, “so wet already, hm?” he ran a finger through your folds, brought it to his mouth and sucked. “who’s this for, princess?”

“for you,” you whimpered, so eager for him to touch you how you wanted. “for you, matthew.”

“all for me.” you could hear the satisfaction in his voice before he leaned forward and began to tease you with his tongue, forced a choked moan from your throat.

one of your hands braced the counter for stability while the other shot forward of its own volition, grasping a handful of his curls, making him grunt. the noise vibrated through you.

“fuck,” you bit out, overwhelmed. he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your hips push up into him and your grip on his hair tighten. “fuck, you’re good at that.”

you felt his smile as he pushed two fingers inside of you, began to move them in and out slowly while continuing to tongue your clit.

you moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, the combination of sensations making it hard to control your breathing, stop your back from arching up off the counter.

he brought his other hand to your stomach and pressed down, cementing your hips down into the bar top, intensifying every shock of pleasure, immediately bringing you impossibly close. “fuck, i can’t,” you whimpered, your hand grasping for sheets that weren’t there. “can’t, shit, so close-”

he lifted his head up, thumbed your clit while curling his fingers slightly inside of you. “gonna cum for me?” he cooed.

you nodded, eyes scrunched shut.

“cum, then, princess,” he pressed. “make a mess for me, hm?”

that building wave finally crashed over you, and you gave him exactly what he wanted, reveled in the fact that you could.

you caught your breath, let out a weak exhale, opened your eyes when you felt him press a light kiss against your hip, on the side of your ribs, up to your collarbone, finally on your lips.

pressed against you, you could feel every inch of him, so hard, immediately making you hungry for him again. “more,” you pleaded simply.

“yeah?” he rasped against your lips. “want more of me?”

you palmed his cock in reply, making him hiss, helped him move his clothes aside. “need to feel you inside me.”

he shifted you off of the counter and against his stool, which you immediately bent over and rested your forearms on.

he groaned, pumped his cock once, twice. “tell me this is okay, princess.”

you nodded. “please fuck me, matthew.”

he did as told, pushing inside you entirely, barely giving you any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, practically splitting you in half.

“holy fuck,” he choked out as you stretched around him. “shit, you’re so perfect for me. bein’ so good, princess, stretching for me so well.”

you moaned as you began to adjust to his size, every part of you still so sensitive from your last orgasm.

he built up his rhythm, forceful and deep but never so much that it hurt, only a pleasant pressure that began to build inside of you.

“so deep,” you whined, your voice muffled by your own arm, “fuck, feels so good.”

he grunted in time with a slow thrust in response, making your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.

“want to see you,” he rasped, hooking one hand around your thigh and flipping you around before pushing back into you, so that now your back was against the stool, your front facing him, one knee bent. he groaned when your eyes met. “fuck, like that.”

you reached one arm up to his shoulder for support, rested the other one back against the stool. your thighs began to shake from the stimulation, making you clench down on him harder, urging another deep moan from him.

time disappeared as the rhythm of you both continued, so lost in the feeling of him and his noises, so perfect and better than anything you had imagined.

at one point, he brought one of his hands to your clit, began to tease you again with his thumb, while the other hand braced the back of your neck.

“hm, look, princess,” he said, his voice rough with wear, as he forced your gaze down to where your bodies met. “watch me fuck you, yeah?”

you whimpered at his crudeness, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you, his cock thrusting into you, his hands willing you to the edge again.

he let out a choked laugh. “oh, you like that, hm? feel you close.”

“fuck, i’m so close, matthew,” you whimpered, feeling your legs give out.

“‘s okay, princess, ‘m there too,” he mumbled, his motions becoming less controlled. “cum with me, yeah? want to feel you cream on my cock.”

you did as he asked, spurred on by his words, the overstimulation. you felt him reach his high with a groan, warm inside of you, his body collapsing against yours.

you held each other close for several long moments, the only noise between you satisfied breaths and shallow heartbeats. the air was warm, so peaceful, and you bit back a smile at how this bar was now forever changed - this peace would never leave.

you felt his facial hair scratch gently against your shoulder as his head rested there, so content to simply have you close.

it could have been a lifetime. it was probably a minute or two.

he was the first to speak. “so,” he said, drowsy and sweet, “you guys still open? how’re my chances of getting a captain and coke?”

you smiled. how far you had come from the man with the mask asking for anything, maybe an ipa.

if please had been written all over him before, x’s and o’s were now, in pastel pink.

“anything for my favorite,” you said, and he kissed just under your ear.

fin.

710 notes · View notes

hom3landr · 11 months

Text

Dark Chocolate

18+

Homelander’s interest in you is evolving into a full blown crush and he’s not quite sure what to do about it.

Prev. 1 2

You’re a little less timid now, forward in an innocent way. When you see him you don’t wait. He’s grown used to you lightly tapping him on the arm or shoulder to get his attention. He likes how earnest you are. You don’t notice the nervous stares from people whenever you come up to him unprompted. That’s the curious thing about you. You’re bold when you should be scared but your nervous disposition has your heart pounding any time he starts to tease. It’s cute and it’s why he’s willing to take his time instead of pouncing every time you walk up with that sweet grin on your face.

It’s been weeks now since you brought him those cookies and while it’s not an everyday thing, he’s grown quite used to being spoiled by your talents. You ask him questions about his likes and dislikes as though you actually care. You ask for his opinions. He’s waiting for the catch, waiting for the day you reveal that your little game is just another farce.

He waits in the conference room, eyes facing the sky with his hands behind his back. He rocks slightly on his heels, feeling jittery and impatient. He’s been feeling restless lately. There are things he merely endured previously that are starting to rub him raw. He can hear your every footstep through the building as he traces your path from the entrance all the way up to 99. His stomach flutters at the ding of the elevator and he unconsciously straightens his shoulders. He deserves this today. He deserves you.

You’re humming as you approach the conference room and whatever you have for him, it’s chocolate. His mouth waters and it takes everything he has not to move, not to turn around so he can see the way your eyes light up when you see him. He hears you mutter a little yay when you see him and oh how it makes something in his chest ache. He stays still. He wants to make you work for it so you’ll have no choice but to reach for him first. When he feels the light touch of your hand on his shoulder, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

He turns and there you are, a thick folder full of paperwork stuffed awkwardly under one arm so you could tap him and hold the package at the same time. Your cheeks are warm but your eyes are warmer. You’re so fucking nice, and it makes him want to howl and bite, makes him want to dig and dig at you until you prove you’re like everyone else, makes him want to find out if your blood is just as sweet as you are. But then you smile at him and all he can think about is how it’s just the tiniest bit lopsided in a way that makes you feel more real than any of the corporate suckups that fill his day to day interactions.

You lift your arm to drop the files onto the meeting table and Homelander is genuinely surprised when they manage to stay in the folder instead of flying all over the room. You place the package on the table as well. You’re practically vibrating and he can tell that something today has you excited.

“You’re my guinea pig today!” You laugh and oh how it smarts . Because that’s not new, is it?

You open the package to reveal a slice of chocolate cake. He looks at it skeptically, previous enthusiasm dampened a bit. He feels sullen and his skin itches under his suit from the way the unassuming comment rubbed him briefly raw. A petty jab sits on his tongue as you hand him a fork. He’d have unleashed it too if you hadn’t started chattering away and distracting him.

“Since my last cake was a bit of a bust,” You shrug, “I thought I’d tweak the recipe to see if you think it improves it.”

Homelander wouldn’t have called it a bust , per se. It was probably the first thing you’ve made that he didn’t like but he personally feels that he was tactful about his feedback.

“I made it dark chocolate and I decided I’d do a whipped cream frosting this time since those don’t tend to be as sweet as a traditional buttercream…” You continue to ramble. You’re on some tangent about food science now that he can’t really be fucked to pay attention to. He’s too busy trying to handle the warmth that blooms in his chest at the thought that you listened to him. You trusted his opinions. Has anyone ever done that without him having to make them?

It makes his pants tight. He kinda wishes the cup in his suit didn’t conceal it. He wants to know how you’d react when you see what you do to him. He can almost picture the surprise on your face, how shy you’d get. He wants to hold you, feel the soft give of your body in his hands like ripe fruit. He decides that he can’t take it anymore.

You startle when he hops up to perch on the edge of the table, gesturing for you to sit next to him. You trail off on your rambling, heartbeat now all fluttery in your chest. You swallow thickly before you nod and take your place next to him. He scoots in close and presses his thigh against yours. Your breath hitches. You’ve gotten better at hiding your attraction to him, but he has ways of knowing how wet you’re getting in your panties. You do that thing he loves where you make a movement like you’re tucking your hair behind your ear, but you never actually grab any hair, so flustered by his presence that your body goes on autopilot.

“Share it with me. I’d feel awfully lonely eating by myself.” He winks before handing you the fork. You blink rapidly and gingerly take it from him. When you’re this close, your scent is overwhelming.

“I don’t have another fork.” You answer meekly and he grins.

“I did suggest we share. Unless you think I have germs.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you bite your lip, shaking your head. He expected you to get flustered but you just look at him slyly, like you’re trying to play coy with him. He feels himself twitch in his pants.

“Hmmm I dunno about germs, but you might have acid spit. I can’t be too careful.” You give a cheeky little shrug. You’re teasing him back . It feels so good to have someone not take things so fucking seriously for once. A vividly pornographic image enters his mind of exactly how he could prove to you that his spit isn’t acidic. He’d prove it to you so thoroughly that you’d be wishing he did just so he’d give your overstimulated cunt a break.

Fuck

He really was testing the limits of his cup now.

“Would make eating pussy kinda awkward, don't ya think? It would be a shame to give that up.” He answers with a casual tilt of his head. Your reaction does not disappoint. He groans under his breath at the way your scent coats his tongue. That one really got you worked up didn’t it. You stare resolutely down at the cake on the table and poke at it with the fork while you avoid his gaze.

“Yeah… I guess it would.” You reply shakily before finally helping yourself to a forkful in an attempt to regain some footing. No teasing this time, he notices with a smirk.

Once you’ve finished your bite, he takes the fork from you, taking a little too much joy in the way your arm erupts in goosebumps as his fingers brush yours. He takes a good hearty bite and groans. Whatever you did…it worked because this is delicious. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you grinning at his obvious approval. Of course, was there any question that it would be good when you were going off his feedback?

He hands the fork back to you again with a wink.

“No acid spit?” Your grin is back.

“No acid spit,” He replies and he finds himself matching your smile, something inside of him loosening.

When he was still young, the doctors would put him in a pool and cover the top. They’d watch him struggle under the water and scribble in their little notebooks. They wanted to see if he was drown-proof. Each time they made him swim, he’d have to stay under a little bit longer. They didn’t care that his lungs hurt or that the way the noise echoed under the water made him nervous. He was too young to know what was happening but they never made the effort to explain. Over time he realized that he wasn’t going to die, that he just needed to endure it and it would inevitably end. Laughing with you makes him feel like when he’d finally get to take that big breath and he knew that for the moment he was safe again.

You spend the next few minutes, passing the fork back and forth. There is something so intimate to him about knowing what you taste like, like he’s already kissed you for the first time. The warmth of your thigh against his is soothing and for the first time in weeks…months… years, that neediness inside quiets for a moment.

“Is there coffee in this?” He asks, if only because he feels ill equipped in situations like this, unsure of how to read the silence. You perk up a bit, always eager to explain how things work.

“Yeah! Can you taste it? It’s pretty much a must when you’re making chocolate cakes because it makes the flavor so much richer.” You explain, and he can tell from your eyes that you’re a few seconds away from launching into a full on chemical breakdown of the recipe so he gently guides you away.

“I smelled it while you were on the way down. I thought that you’d maybe stopped at a coffee shop.” He knows you didn’t. He knew every moment you made the second you walked in the building, but he’s trying to make conversation.

“Cool!” You exclaim and it’s fucking ridiculous how genuinely earnest you are about it. What’s more ridiculous is how pleased he is that you find him cool. He knows when you leave he’ll wince at how pathetic he is, but when you’re here, it seems like such a pointless thing to worry about.

“And what do I smell like? Please tell me I don’t stink!” you ask curiously, biting your lip to hide a smile. He huffs a little laugh. You’re too cute and the twisted part of him wants to push and tease. He wants to tell you that you smell like brown sugar and pussy. That his mouth waters when you walk into the room and that the only thing keeping him from laying you on the table and feasting right now is that… Well, he doesn’t actually have a good reason for why he’s not eating you out the way you both deserve.

He doesn’t even get the chance to answer because before he can, you lick your thumb and wordlessly wipe away a smudge of icing from the corner of his mouth. The ease of motion gives away that it was an instinctual movement, not hindered by fear or anxiety. You tenderly make sure his face is clean before withdrawing again. Homelander’s heart is beating so loudly in his ears that it’s almost affecting his hearing. Where before he felt safe, now he feels raw and exposed. His neediness has woken up again, screaming and snarling for more. He wants. Oh how he wants.

He doesn’t want to think about the last time he exposed himself, let someone touch him skin to skin. He doesn’t want to think about how the stench of her fear made him nauseous, how the sweet scent of her burning flesh still lingers in his nose. He felt how she trembled as he kissed her lips, her forehead. He can hear the sizzle and all of a sudden he can’t stomach another bite. The beast inside him wails for him to take and consume , strip mine you for what he needs and then toss you out, before you think you have the right to take from him in return.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, worried by the way his expression has gone blank. “I should have asked first. You had some crumbs on your face.”

You’re so fucking nice and it’s almost your downfall.

Almost

You’re saved by the fact that he notices that the rest of The Seven should already be making their way to the conference room. He can’t exactly get away with much when there is an audience. He’s grateful for it, because it means that your safety is out of his hands. You’ve unknowingly just had a noose removed from around your neck, all because you forgot that even a docile lion is still a carnivore. Your shoulders slump when he stands up, feeling silly and abandoned as you sit perched on the ledge like a child.

“It’s almost time for the meeting. Better get to work before you get chastised for slacking off.” He says sternly, as if he wasn’t the one to invite you to eat with him in the first place. He needs you back in your box where you’re just the shy PA who brings him sweets, someone he can easily dismiss. He’s learned his lesson about giving parts of himself away just for the attention of some stupid human. You aren’t even special, just a nobody who runs errands. He doesn’t need you. In fact, next thing you bring him he’ll spit out, to teach you a lesson about thinking you’re anywhere on his level.

He pointedly resumes the position he was in when you first entered, hands behind his back as he stares at the sky. There’s a few moments of silence before he hears you slowly hop off the desk and start arranging the files. The task itself only takes a few minutes, and you will most definitely be gone by the time anyone makes it. He expects you to leave without a word, his silent chastisement more cruel than anything he could say. But you surprise him again.

“Thanks for helping me with the recipe! I’ll have something new for you on Monday. Also, don’t forget, I still want to know what I smell like!” He hears you call out to him from the doorway. He resists the urge to look back at you. There is a slight nervousness to your positivity but the fact that you’re even trying despite the obvious rebuke makes you braver than most everyone else in the building. He can admire that. It makes him want to throw you a bone.

“Brown sugar,” He calls back, “since you’re always fucking baking”

Before you leave, he catches your reflection in the window despite promising himself he wouldn’t look, and you smile so fucking happily at his reply, that any progress he’s made goes straight down the drain. A fond grin of his own causes his eyes to crinkle, as he gives an exasperated sigh.

You’re going to be a big problem…aren’t you?

——————

You know you shouldn’t feel as giddy as you do. You sniff your arm, feeling stupid but wanting to know if you really do smell like brown sugar. The most important thing is that you didn’t ruin your friendship with him. You can tell he needs a friend. Sitting with him today made you realize, he’s absolutely nothing like the picture-perfect hero that Vought advertises, but he’s not a heartless monster either. He’s a constantly shifting kaleidoscope of manufactured facets and raw human emotion, bubbling under the surface like a hot spring and just as likely to singe your hand if you touch.

You’re glad he tolerates you, even if it’s just for the free dessert.

#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #homelander headcanons

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 4 months

Text

~ Pride and Protection | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, secrets, feelings of yearning and uncertainty, food consumption, idiots in love, the in-laws make an appearance once more, talks about contract marriage, secrecy, lies, minor injury, a bit of blood, talks about having children, the have a moment! (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Your relationship with Jungkook was complicated while at the same time was the easiest thing in the world. However, after having taken three steps forward, you take five backwards as you learn that someone knows your secret and in order to protect Jungkook, you must make a choice. But would he let himself be protected with the only thing that would pain him greater than death itself?

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I know I have taken ages to update this series but yesterday while in the shower I was able to solve a major plot hole so here we are! I really hope you will enjoy this part as we dive further into the complicated relationship that is marriage, buckle up darlings because this will take quite a different turn that what I have originally planned!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

You awoke upon hearing a sudden noise. A gasp left your lips as you sat up on the bed, eyes roaming around the bedroom only to notice that you were alone in the large bed, your husband was nowhere to be found.

You quickly stood up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and style your hair a bit. Without giving it much thought, you left the bathroom and walked to the kitchen.

What you saw made you chuckle a bit. You saw Jungkook crouching down on the floor while Bam walked around him excitedly.

"Bam, stop it. This is all your fault."

You giggled at your husband's scolding to the Dobermann and that seemed to catch his attention as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes were bigger than usual as you seemed to have caught him doing something he shouldn't. Like a scolded kid.

"(y/n), you're up. I... um."

Jungkook stood up and turned to face you, your eyes immediately went to the mess on the floor he was apparently trying to fix.

Over the white floor laid the vase you had placed your sunflowers from last night shattered with the nice flowers adorning the place in an almost artistic way.

"Bam broke it."

He said urgently. You lifted an eyebrow at your husband. A smile tugging at your lips. Your gaze shifted from the large dog sitting next to your husband and the man's adorably wide eyes.

"Of course, that's totally what happened."

You said with a bit of sarcasm in your words but Jungkook knew you weren't mad, your gaze had a softness in their (e/c) pools and a teasing smile was painted over your lips.

He sighed, looking down at his dog before returning to look at you.

"I wanted to move the vase from the dining table so that we could enjoy breakfast together but Bam rushed past me and I accidentally dropped it, I'm sorry."

You walked towards him, careful to not step in any of the shattered glass on the floor.

"It's okay, Kook. There's no need to apologise, it was just a vase, I can put the flowers somewhere else."

Jungkook stepped aside as you crouched down to pick up the sunflowers from the floor, careful so as to not cut yourself with the broken glass. His eyes followed you as you moved swiftly around the kitchen.

"Let me do it."

He said, grabbing the broom and dustpan from your hands when you returned. He didn't allow any room for you to deny it as he began sweeping the floor, carefully getting rid of all the glass. Bam scurried off to his house in the corner while you searched the cupboards for another vase to put your flowers.

The scene was peaceful, domestic even. And Jungkook found himself loving the small moment between you both, like a real married couple.

He put the broken glass in the bin and handed you back the broom and dustpan, you accepted the items with a smile but your eyes drifted to his hands circling them.

"Jungkook, you're bleeding."

He hadn't even registered the subtle pain up until now, you were fast enough to grab the cleaning objects and put them aside before your hands grabbed his larger left hand.

"I probably cut myself a moment ago, don't worry about it."

But the frown between your brows didn't disappear. You inspected the cut with prying eyes before you walked toward the sink, pulling him with you.

"We cannot leave it like that, Kook. It'll get infected if you don't clean it."

You didn't look at him while you said those words as you were focused on the running water of the sink falling over his cut. Jungkook watched you attentively, his eyes ran over your worried expression, noticing the concern in your eyes, how you bit your lower lip and how your brows were slightly furrowed. He couldn't help but find it cute.

With a soft towel you dried his hand with careful movements, mindful of his small wound. You didn't say another thing as you let go of his hand briefly while opening one of the kitchen cupboards. He watched as you stood on your tip toes and reached for a white box. You put it on the counter and opened it before grabbing Jungkook's hand once more.

"Why do you keep that in there?"

He asked softly, referring to the first aid kit hidden in the kitchen.

"I always have one in hand, in case I burn myself while cooking or sometimes a small cut happens too. It comes in handy."

He hummed in response, not quite processing the fact of your words as he was more distracted by the feeling of your delicate touch over his skin.

You applied some ointment over his cut on his index finger before wrapping a band-aid on it.

"There."

A soft smile graced your features as you let go of his hand, his skin feeling cold the next instant as you put the things back in the box and put it back where it was.

You didn't have time to turn around when you suddenly froze on the spot. A hand rested on your right shoulder and your breath hitched in your throat when you felt Jungkook's body pressed into your back, his other hand went to rest against the counter and you swallowed as he trapped you between him and the marble counter.

"You be careful. I don't want you to get hurt while you cook."

His words were rasped out, voice deep that made your insides quiver. Jungkook was even surprised of himself with such a bold move but he didn't dare move from where he stood. The warmth of your body made things to him, to his mind, to his heart. Things he hadn't felt before. Or at least, not all of them.

He lifted his left hand from the counter, moving his now bandaged finger in front of your face.

"It can hurt pretty bad."

You swallowed, mind going blank with all the possible things you could've said at that moment.

"Jungkook."

His name left your lips without you noticing it. As if it were on instinct that you wished to pronounce his name.

He hummed, resting his left hand over your own on the counter while his thumb began drawing circles on your shoulder. Your skin tingles where he touched you and your heart was hammering so hard inside your chest you thought he'd hear its frantic beating.

He began leaning into your ear, as if wanting to whisper the secrets of the universe to you and only you. You turned your head, looking at him so close. So intimate. A tension grew between you two. Something intangible, something that could only be felt with the heart.

Your lips almost touched his; gaze fixing between his eyes and his pink lips. Your breaths mingled together, the feeling of his body pressed to your own grounded you while at the same time let your mind loose.

Jungkook cursed under his breath when his phone began ringing. Popping the sweet bubble of innocence between you two. The warmth of his body disappeared the next second, making a shiver run down your spine at the sudden coolness of the apartment.

Jungkook answered the call in a sour mood, cursing the person in the other line for calling him when he nearly kissed you! Literally there couldn't have been a worse timing for that call. Then again, it wasn't as if he could stay mad at Hoseok for longer than 10 seconds. That man was a walking ray of sunshine.

You, on the other hand, stood rooted in your place. After having turned around, your back facing the cupboards, your eyes remained glued to Jungkook who paced back and forth in the large kitchen.

You didn't know what he was saying through the phone, you weren't paying attention. Your mind kept playing over and over again what had just happened between you and your husband.

Jungkook's voice enthralled you. Not because of the meaning of his words, you didn't know the latest updates from the company but it was the mere sound of his voice that mesmerised you.

It could be soft and sweet. Loving. Or it could be deep and harsh. Commanding. And you absolutely loved it. You watched as he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl before hanging up.

"I have to go, (y/n). Something happened, we'll have breakfast together later, call me if you need anything."

He sent you a flashing smile before putting his shoes on in a hurry, grabbing his coat and leaving the flat. You blinked once then twice, feeling the silence of the apartment consume you. A sigh left your lips, you were still processing what had just happened between you and Jungkook only for your husband to storm out of the door the next second.

"Bye, Jungkook."

You whispered to the air, as if needing to say it so that you could continue with your day. You ran a hand over your forehead, his husky voice repeating itself in your mind, you were still intoxicated with his cologne and the memory of his body against your own made you tingle with ecstasy.

You smile, chewing at your bottom lip as you sit down on the stool.

Did -did we just have a moment?

"Where's Jimin?"

Jungkook asked his friend and coworker, Namjoon. The shorter man hadn't been seen around and it was already half past three in the evening. The older man cleared his throat, putting some files on Jungkook's desk before he spoke.

"I think he took the day off, said something about having to visit someone. I'm not aware of the details."

Jungkook hummed, eyes roaming over the papers his friend just brought him.

"Namjoon, do you think you can handle today's meeting with the shareholders? I'll pick up my wife from her appointment with her editor."

The other man nodded, taking out his phone to put it in his calendar.

"How are things going on? Between you and (y/n)."

Jungkook sighed at the question, was his married life the only gossip going around in the office?

"Jimin-ah asked me the exact same question the other day, hyung. But to satiate your curiosity, I think we are progressing."

Namjoon smiled, picturing in his head how Jimin probably pestered Jungkook to spill the beans about his love life.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Kook. You deserve it."

The younger man smiled softly at the thought of you. Your presence, even in his mind, was enough to soothe his soul and calm his heart while butterflies flew wildly in his stomach.

"Thanks, hyung."

Namjoon bowed slightly at Jungkook, not because of his age but because of him being his boss. Your husband was left alone in his office the next moment. Leaving him with his thoughts, his racing heart, his yearning soul.

He wanted to get back to you, already addicted to your presence, your voice. Your mere existence was enough to captivate him. He needed it. Almost to the point of needing a drug to keep his sanity. As if he was sick and you were his cure.

Your entire being, your heart was a sanctuary for his love. A love so pure only you were to receive. Only you were to claim it as your own. Jungkook wished to get back to the apartment, imagining you sitting on the couch with a soft blanket over your legs and your laptop resting on the blanket. The image in his mind made him smile.

He remembered what had happened last night. How your body had felt against his own. The way you both cuddled together on the couch, how his hand found yours underneath the covers, he broke a barrier at that moment with his touch. He crossed another line between you both, another step towards having your heart in his hands.

And then there was his silent confession. His whispered words that hung in the silence of the flat as darkness drowned the place. Jungkook couldn't keep those words in him any longer, he had to say them. Say them but you weren't meant to hear them. Not now at least.

He sighed. So many thoughts lived in his mind, so many wishes rested in his heart and it made his soul heavy. Heavy with need and love. With yearning for something that he could touch but maybe he couldn't keep.

Love was complicated, Jungkook understood that now. But that didn't mean he would let the small spark that existed between you and him die. No. He'd make it a burning flame of love and passion. A fire that warmed but didn't burn. A beautiful spectre of perfection.

He didn't know that in that exact moment, he was living in your mind as well. You sat in a small cafe, eyes lost in the distance. Not even watching the cars pass by on the street as your mind replayed last night's events.

You remembered how Jungkook had given you your flowers. Those beautiful sunflowers that made you smile widely. Even now, as you reminisce on the bouquet, you subconsciously smile. The smell was engraved in your memories and how your heart skipped a beat when he had presented the gift to you in an almost shy way made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

And then, there was what had happened this morning. How he pinned you to the kitchen's counter, the way he towered over you and he trapped you between him. Your senses were invaded by Jungkook and you blushed at the thought.

Your train of thought got interrupted when Mrs. Ming arrived. You shook your head softly to get rid of the thoughts about your husband before you stood up and greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Ming. How have you been?"

She was your editor, a middle aged woman with a kind heart and great knowledge. She sat down in front of you, putting her purse next to her as her warm eyes locked with your own.

"I've been fine, (y/n), thanks for asking. And you?"

You nodded at her before signalling for a waiter to take your order. She ordered a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee while you only asked for a coffee. Once the kind waiter left, she spoke once more.

"So... I read your first draft. (y/n), I really loved the story."

You chuckled softly, allowing her to continue.

"Even when that kind of plot is widely used, I do believe you described it completely differently from other stories that are about arranged marriages."

Subconsciously, your right hand searched for your wedding band on your ring finger. You traced the band softly, mind going back to Jungkook.

"I'm glad you liked it, of course I know it needs a lot of polishing before going live but that means a lot, Mrs. Ming."

She smiled at you, that warm smile tha soothed your nerves when it came to your work and reputation as a well-known writer.

"Send me your next draft when you are done, (y/n). We'll go from there and try not to rush it. You know how these things work."

You nodded at Mrs. Ming's wise words before bowing softly at her. Jungkook hadn't texted you so you assumed he was in a meeting. He had been quite busy this past few weeks and your heart clenched at his stress and frustration over the company that would eventually be his.

"Would you like me to give you a lift?"

You smiled kindly at her sweet offer but shook your head.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Ming. I want to stop in a nearby shop and buy something for my husband."

"Very well, text me if you need me to check anything from your draft and believe it when I tell you it has very solid pillars already."

You couldn't fight the smile that grew on your face upon her compliment over your work. Writing was your passion, what you lived for. If you couldn't write, there was no point in experiencing life the way you did it.

"Thank you so much, take care."

"You too, (y/n)."

And with that, you parted ways with the older woman who you have grown fond of. You sighed to yourself, walking in the other direction to make your idea of a surprise a reality for your handsome husband who lavished you in luxury and a soft affection. You wanted to reciprocate those gifts, even a little. At least try. At least welcome him with something you hope he'd liked.

Your features were soft as you paraded over the pavement, your mind went back to Jungkook, your sweet and loving husband. The memories of him were cascading over you like a soft drizzle on an autumn day. It made you sigh in content, quickening your pace as you got closer to the store you had ordered your gift from.

The bell over the door rang above you as you entered the old jewellery shop. The sudden smell of dried roses reached your senses as you looked around the small yet cosy shop you were in.

An elderly looking man came from behind the counter with a gentle expression over his aged features.

"Hello, miss. What can I do for you today?"

You stepped forward and answered him. You clutched your purse in your hold, nervous as it was the first time you were to buy something for Jungkook. you had gifted him other things, but this was different. It meant something different.

"Good evening. I actually ordered a designed watch and I was told I could come today to pick it up."

The man's eyes sparkled as he remembered your order you had placed over the phone. It didn't matter how much it would cost you but you had wanted to give your husband not only an item he could wear but something to remind him of you, of your relationship.

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Mrs. Jeon, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your lip in an unconscious way as the man bent down behind the counter and rose once more holding a box in his hands. You took a step closer and suppressed a gasp as your eyes landed on the beautiful watch with black leather straps. The watch on itself had a golden outline and the numbers were marked by simple lines also made of golden material. The little clock hands were also in that same beautiful golden colour while they were thin and delicate. Elegant.

You picked it up with gentle movements and turned it around, reading the engraving on its back and smiling at just how beautiful it had come out. You were sure Jungkook would love it.

"It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

The man smiled at your happiness and received with both hands your card to pay for the beautiful gift. He was also kind enough to pack the watch in a lovely box with a silver bow on top of it. You put the black box in your purse and thanked the owner with a soft bow before you left the cute store.

You began walking back to the coffee shop where you met with Mrs. Ming because Jungkook had told you he'd come pick you up after he was done with some meeting.

However, just as you were rounding the corner of the block where the coffee shop was, a black car parked next to you. You didn't have time to panic as the window rolled in and you saw your mother-in-law sitting in the back seat.

"Get in, (y/n). We have things to discuss."

Her demanding tone made a shiver run down your spine as you clutched your purse tighter against your body. You were going to protest, saying you had things to do but her glare was enough for you to swallow your words. You didn't say anything but obeyed her commanded request with rigid movement. When you were seated in the car and the door closed behind you, the chauffeur at the front started the engine and began driving away.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Jeon?"

You asked out of politeness. However, the memory of her demand at dinner was still fresh in your mind. The feelings were still there, the bitterness of her request and the frustration in your heart were still open for the world to see.

She didn't say anything as she grabbed a file next to her before handing it to you.

"You are aware of why me and my husband chose you to become Jungkook's wife, are you not?"

You nodded, still confused about all that was happening. She sounded serious about whatever topic she had to discuss with you. Even more, she looked angry too.

"(y/n), we promised to make you a successful writer, which I must say, we have accomplished in a transparent way."

You looked at her, not opening the file in your hands as your heart raced in your chest. With nerves, with fear, with anxiety. Does she- does she know?

"In exchange for your success in your career you were to become my son's wife and give him an heir."

You swallowed, feeling a lump grow in your throat. As if she were suffocating you with her cold gaze.

"Mrs. Jeon, I-"

She cut you off as she raised her hand in the air.

"I know everything, girl. Everything."

Tears clouded your vision, your hands shook despite you trying to stop them from trembling.

"I'm sorry."

You whispered, fearing with your entire being what she'd say to you next. Your heartstrings were pulled by fate's dark grip. You kept your tears to yourself, not allowing them to flow and leave the cage that was your body.

You were ashamed of yourself, you felt dirty upon being caught in your lie, in your secret. But you needed the money, you needed to progress in your career and your in-laws had offered you that opportunity in a silver tray for you to take. Even when you were risking more than your life while accepting that deal.

Mrs. Jeon scoffed humorlessly at you, her eyes trained on the file that was gripped in your trembling hands.

""Sorry" is not going to fix this. Did you really think we wouldn't find out?

You sniffled, the lump in your throat preventing you from speaking. From defending yourself, words failed you when you needed them the most.

"I want you to divorce my son."

Her words stunned you to the point that you turned to look at her with wide eyes, your heart was in your throat as a single tear left your eye and rolled down your cheek slowly.

"I can't."

You whispered, your body preventing you from speaking any louder. From sadness, frustration, anger. You couldn't get the words out.

"You must. If you will not give Jungkook what he deserves, let him have the opportunity of building his life and not wasting his youth with a woman that would always hold him back."

You closed your eyes. trying to calm yourself a bit. You nearly gasped when you felt the woman's hand over your left one and you looked down at what would have been a sympathetic touch if it weren't for her greedy wishes. Your eyes were trained on your wedding ring, almost as if it mocked you.

"It's for the best, (y/n). Think about Jungkook. Think about all that he'd lose if he continues to be tied to you. He deserves a chance with someone who would make him really happy."

The car came to a sudden stop and you looked outside only to notice you were in front of your apartment complex. You sighed, your hands clutched the file in your hands, already knowing what was inside it for Mrs. Jeon to confront you this way. It made you shudder internally.

"Think about Jungkook, (y/n). It is him who would end up hurt in the end."

You looked at her with dead eyes, refusing to spill your tears in front of such a cruel woman. You didn't say anything, yet your heart was heavy as you exited the car, leaving the file behind. Wishing it was that easy to leave your past behind as well.

With heavy steps you made your way into the luxurious building where your shared home with your husband rested. You wiped your tears while you were alone in the lift, feeling the ride up longer than usual.

You took out your phone while wiping the tears cascading down your cheeks that you could no longer hold in. You turned it on, putting in your wedding anniversary date to unlock the device before you found Jungkook's contact and sent him a quick text, letting him know you were home and that he didn't have to worry about picking you up.

You pressed send and the elevator doors opened and you walked along the empty corridor until you reached your door. In an almost mechanical way you typed the password, the sound of the door unlocking fell on deaf ears as it opened, you stepped inside and closed it with a light push.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your purse and phone on the couch before you walked towards the bedroom. Your heart was heavy with the words your mother-in-law had spoken to you a mere moment ago. It felt selfish to stay with your husband yet it was cruel to leave just like that.

The greatest fear in your soul was for Jungkook to know the truth as well. Perhaps if you left in silence, his mother would keep your secret to herself.

A shudder racked through your body at the single thought of leaving your husband behind. Your man, your love. The door to your shared bedroom closed behind you as you allowed yourself to drown in your thoughts and tears, the product of your own decisions.

Jungkook was in the middle of a meeting when his phone buzzed as it rested on the table. He was quick enough to read your name on the notifications before the screen went dark again. His fingers itched to grab the device and read your message. His heart pounded at the thought of you texting him, wanting to talk to him.

With a discreet movement he grabbed his phone and pulled it under the large table, the voices of the directors dying down in his mind as he read your text.

Something stirred within him at the coldness of your words, at the lack of emojis and sweet greetings. It was just a short message, delivering its purpose yet he knew there was something wrong in order for you to send such a message buried in a pile of ice that felt like a dagger between what had been growing in your relationship with Jungkook.

He stood up, catching the attention of the men and women seated around the glass table.

"Excuse me."

No-one spoke a word as he left the room, not minding the curious gazes over his form nor the questioning looks on his people's faces.

Once outside, he read your text again, his lips pressed together as the words repeated themselves over and over again in his loud mind.

'Jungkook, I'm already home. Mrs. Ming gave me a ride. Don't bother about picking me up later.'

That was what you had written to him. Your coldness and dismissal of his attentions to you pulled at his heartstrings. He called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it rang and rang until it led to voicemail.

He sent you a text, asking if you were alright, if something had happened. They got sent, but you didn't read them. Worry began etching on his chest as many thoughts raced through his head. Maybe your phone had died and you sent him that text so as not to worry him?

Yet his heart screamed at him to go home, find you, see you with his very eyes and confirm you were alright.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up...."

Jungkook mumbled to himself as he dialled your number for the last time; it went to voicemail and he cursed under his breath before his feet were carrying him through the corridor and down the stairs. He didn't have time to take the lift as his heart raced with each step he took.

Time was slower than usual yet at the same time it raced against him and his strongest desire that was to get to you.

His car was speeding through the streets, he feared something bad had happened to you, that you were hurt in some way. The thought scared him to death. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly in order of keeping his hands from shaking with nerves, with fear, with desperation, with frustration. With love. With urge. His emotions and thoughts were a muddy concoction that blurred his senses and made his heart ache.

Jungkook ran up the apartment complex, the lift ride taking centuries to go up to his floor. He practically ran through the hallway before his fingers quickly typed the password; the door was yanked with force fueled by his thumping heart only to be met with a numbing silence drowning the place.

He looked around, not even Bam was in his house, running to receive him like any other day. Spotting your purse on the couch, he went there with urgent steps only to find your phone next to it as well with all his missing calls and unread texts in your notifications. He lifted your purse, searching for some clue about what had happened, about your coldness, about your strange text.

A black box tied with a silver bow fell from your purse upon its movement. Jungkook frowned, picking it up in his hands as he eyed it with curiosity. His fingers were about to untie the ribbon but he halted in his action when he heard a whine coming from the bedroom. It was Bam's cry. And then came a soft sniffle that hadn't he been alert, he'd have missed it.

Jungkook put the box on the coffee table before he walked over the hallway and towards where your shared bedroom was. His palm pushed the door open and he nearly gasped at what he saw.

"(y/n)?"

You froze in your movement when you heard your name being called by the unmistakable voice of your dear husband. You turned around, your eyes meeting his as you stood frozen in the middle of the large bedroom.

His heart clenched when he saw tears in your eyes, your cheeks were wet and your lips were pouty. Your hands were shaking as you held your jewellery box.

"What are you doing?"

He asked, his voice so soft, so patient. Yet you were able to read the underlines of curiosity and hurt over his words as his eyes travelled across the bedroom.

You were packing your stuff.

"Jungkook."

His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a verse of a poem your soul found no rhyme with. Your missing treasure that you had to let go before ever having him in your arms. You husband. Your love.

Your jewellery box slipped from your hands, landing dryly over the grey carpet as its contents escaped the little box and scattered around. You swallowed, never breaking eye contact with Jungkook as his long legs carried him towards you.

He panicked as he watched you be in such an estate of distress. Bam laid in your shared bed, watching you with sad eyes as whine filled the room.

A shuddering breath escaped through your lips when Jungkook's hands rested on your shoulders. His eyes were filled with worry and want, of sadness and confusion and a million other things you weren't able to grasp.

"What happened?"

You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop its quivering. Tears leaked from your eyes and he wanted to wipe them so desperately he felt his fingers would turn to ash if he didn't dry your tears. You hated yourself for what you were about to say to him, for how you were going to break his heart; hurt his precious and sweet soul.

The wedding band on your finger was suddenly too heavy for you to carry. Tainted with guilt, with shame. Lightened by love and a dream that was now disipaiting like fog on an early spring day.

You looked into your husband's eyes with thousands of emotions before you spoke words that made his heart crumble to pieces. You watch the hurt flash over his doe eyes and his hands tightened around your shoulders.

"I want to divorce you, Jungkook."

~Masterpost

December/19/2023

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear out your ideas and theories about the outcome of this story!

Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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