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bitters-n-sweets · 1 month ago

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take a break — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader Robby is finally on vacation in Bali. He can't quite turn off the part of him that stays alert, but then he meets someone who somehow silences all the noise.

warnings: angst. smut 18+, minors go away. this feels very romantic to me. i loved writing this. i never intended to include smut in this actually, i find it challenging, but it felt like a great addition to the story. pls be nice :") [p in v sex, no protection—don't do this kids, oral!fem receiving, fingering, swearing] not proofread. 4.4K words -- i think this is also the longest fic I've written so far masterlist

It just finished raining, and the air feels sticky with heat and flowers. Robby's on his third day of vacation in Bali, and he's yet to do anything on this island they call paradise. No tours, no yoga by the beach, not even a swim.

It's beautiful here—almost painfully—but he keeps checking his phone like someone might page him. Old habits. No one’s paging him. Time zones are a buffer, and besides, he’s on the other side of the world. What could he possibly do?

He’s halfway through drinking from his coconut, perched on a wooden lounge chair by the beach, when he hears a voice beside him, amused and warm.

"You look like you’re trying to solve a math problem with your drink."

He looks up. You’re barefoot, sun-kissed, wearing loose cotton pants and a tank top, your hair a little wild from the humidity.

Robby blinks. "Is it that obvious?"

You motion to the seemingly permanent frown on his face.

Robby's seen you around the resort before. Always by yourself, with two books in one hand and a drink in the other. He thought about saying something multiple times, but always chickened out. Something about you felt... unapproachable. Not in an intimidating way, more in a you’re living fully and I’m not sure how to do that so I don't want to possibly ruin it for you way.

Now you both sit in silence, while Robby continues to check his phone again and sighs. That's when you hand him your book. "Here."

He blinks down at the cover. A Man Called Ove.

"One of my favorites. You should read it." You say, "Better than constantly checking your phone and regretting it a second later."

Robby snorts. You have a point.

"You lend books to strangers a lot?"

"If they look like they've been through some rough shit, yes."

That startles a laugh out of him—genuine, low, a little rusty. "I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You can call me Robby."

You offer your name in return, then nod toward the book. "Give it a chance. Let me know what you think."

"What makes you think I'll give your book back?"

You smile, stepping toward the path back to the resort. "I've seen you around the resort. And if you don't, I'll hunt you down."

You're feeling particularly exhausted today. One, because you just went out surfing for the entire day yesterday, but also because today, you were supposed to be walking down the aisle with the most beautiful dress, about to marry the love of your life. Instead, you're in a hotel room halfway across the world, alone, and feeling like shit.

Well, you suppose the day wasn't half bad. You finally managed to talk to the broody, quietly handsome guy who looks like he’s seen too much and somehow still comes off calm and steady. A smile tugs at your lips. He’s more charming than you expected.

Bali was not a place you thought you'd visit alone. You always imagined you'd be here with your ex-fiancé, drinking and watching the sunset. So you decide it's time to take care of yourself, wear that sundress you've been saving for a special occasion, and head to the resort's bar.

You sit down at your table, putting your book down and picking up the menu, when someone clears his throat, standing next to you.

Robby.

"This seat taken?"

You try to hide your smile. "Be my guest."

He smiles and sits across from you, putting his your book down on the table. He looks good—too good. He’s traded his usual loose t-shirt for a navy polo that clings in the right places, and linen pants that make his long legs look impossibly relaxed.

"You clean up nice." You say.

"You look beautiful." Robby counters, "Can I ask what's the occasion?"

You chuckle nervously, not ready to share the sad part of your life yet. Thankfully, you're saved by the waiter coming to take your order.

"Do you drink Rosé?" Robby asks after ordering your meals. And you nod, surprised. "Great, let's open a bottle of dry Rosé." He says to the waiter.

You raise your brows once the waiter leaves. "Didn't take you for a wine guy—let alone a Rosé? You're full of surprises, Michael."

"You sound like my mother when you call me like that." He groans.

"'Michael'?"

"Yes, and she also mocks my drink choices."

You laugh. "So what's the story?"

"A friend gifted me a dry Rosé one time as a joke. I didn’t want to waste it, so I drank it. Turns out, I liked it more than I wanted to admit. But keep that between us."

You hum, "Ah, yes, can't have you ruin your naturally broody aura."

"Me? Broody?" He snorts like it's ridiculous. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You absolutely are."

With the food almost immediately devoured, you're left with wine and each other's company. The ocean hums in the distance, with the breeze prickling your skin. Robby’s gone quiet, admiring the view, the half-full glass of rosé resting loosely in his fingers.

"So, how do you like the book so far?"

He exhales, tipping his head back. "I wasn’t ready to love it. But it... got to me."

You grin. "Ove grows on you, doesn’t he?"

"Yeah," Robby murmurs. "Grumpy bastard made me feel things I wasn’t in the mood to feel."

You laugh. "That's the point. He's angry at life, but still shows up for people. Even when he doesn’t want to."

Robby nods, quiet for a second. "I think I know what that feels like."

You glance at him, surprised by the honesty. His jaw is tense, but his eyes are soft. You wonder if you should ask—but something tells you this moment is already fragile, and curiosity might crack it too soon.

Instead, you wait.

"I'm an ER doc." Robby swirls the wine in his glass absentmindedly. "Lots of chaos. Long hours. Lots of traumas, deaths… I used to think I was built for this line of work. The pressure, the adrenaline... the fixing things. And sometimes I still do. But lately…"

You don’t speak. You let him go on, because he needs to.

He takes a deep breath. "Lately I’ve been wondering if it's all catching up with me. Like—I walk around carrying everyone else's worst days, and I don’t even notice the weight until I sit still." He continues. "I’ve seen kids come in with gunshots. Mothers who collapse from exhaustion. People screaming for someone to save them, and you just have to keep moving like it doesn’t get to you. Like you’re above it. But you’re not. Not really."

Robby then takes a sharp breath. "Sorry. I'm not usually this..."

You offer him a small smile. "Broody?"

That earns a faint smile, but it doesn’t erase the weariness from his expression.

You figured it's only fair you share your story, too.

You put your wine glass down, your finger tracing the rim. "I was supposed to get married today."

That catches him off guard. His eyes widen, gently. "Oh. Today? As in—today today?"

"Yeah," You laugh under your breath, "Booked the venue and everything. Until 6 months ago, I found out he was cheating on me with one of my bridesmaids. Classic."

"Prick," Robby mutters.

"Right? So I pulled the plug on the wedding, and I've been traveling the world ever since. Running away, I guess. I was so caught up in the relationship that I think I lost part of myself." You sigh. "So now, I'm re-finding myself. Yay."

Robby chuckles. "And how's it going so far?"

You smile, "Let's just say I'm glad I'm not spending today alone."

He mirrors your smile, lifting his glass to cheer. "Me too."

"Walk with me?" you ask, gesturing toward the beach after you've finished your wine.

Robby doesn’t hesitate. "Lead the way."

You both kick off your shoes by the beach entrance and walk slowly along the shore, the water brushing your feet gently. You can feel the wine in your system now. The salty air hits your skin and lets your hair flow freely. Robby has never seen anyone more beautiful. He's glad it's dark out now, or you would've seen him blush.

You glance at him, and he’s already looking at you. Half-lidded, faintly flushed from the wine and maybe something more.

"I don’t usually let myself relax like this." He murmurs.

"And yet here you are, walking barefoot on a beach with a stranger, wine-drunk and poetic." You laugh lightly.

"Stranger?" He repeats, stepping in front of you gently, making you stop.

"No?"

"Feels like I've known you longer." He smiles lazily.

Your heart kicks up a notch, not sure what to say, so you just smile, turning to look towards the sea. The breeze has picked up, cooler now that the sun has long dipped below the horizon. You cross your arms, trying not to shiver, but the goosebumps along your arms give you away.

Without a word, Robby steps behind you. You feel his warmth before you feel the touch—his hands gently brushing your arms, then slowly wrapping around your waist. His chest is solid and steady against your back, and you let yourself lean into it, just a little.

He’s quiet, but you can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, feel it where your shoulders meet his. The sea hums in the distance, but all you can think about is how your heart is racing—and how you can feel his breath on your skin.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met." He says.

You chuckle and glance up at him, suddenly meeting his eyes. "That's the Rosé talking."

"Maybe," he says, almost to himself. "Or maybe I just really want to kiss you."

Your breath catches. That weightless feeling flutters in your chest, and the world seems to narrow to just the space between your mouths. He waits for your permission—doesn’t lean in right away, doesn’t push. Just watches you, his fingers still resting lightly on your waist.

So you give in. You lean up and close the space between you. It's slow, exploring new ground, like you're testing the heat between you. Robby’s lips are soft, warm, and his beard grazes your skin in the most deliciously distracting way. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you find your fingers brushing the edge of his jaw.

The kiss lingers on your lips even after it ends, like you don't want it to be over. Robby pulls back just enough to look at you, still hazy, still drunk on the moment. His hand is still snug at your waist, like he’s afraid to let go too quickly.

"I don’t want to overstep," he whispers, "But if I asked you to come back with me… would that be okay?"

You hesitate for a second, because something about this feels different than just a vacation fling, but you can't talk about it yet. You don't want to.

"I was hoping you’d ask," you murmur against his lips.

That earns you a smile and another short make-out session that leaves you breathless.

"Are we leaving or what?" You ask in between kisses.

He chuckles, "So impatient."

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, and you walk together barefoot, tipsy, and a little giddy from everything that’s happened tonight. The resort glows softly in the distance, lanterns swaying with the wind.

Once inside his room, you walk in slowly as if it doesn't look exactly like yours. The mood shifts. Robby closes the door behind you, and for a second, neither of you says anything. You just look at each other in the dim light, the tension from earlier about to snap.

Robby takes the first step closer to you, dragging his finger to lift your chin so he can kiss you again. And again. And again. And you sigh into his arms, hands on his broad chest.

"You can stop me any time."

"I won't."

He kisses you again, deeper this time. His hands slip around your waist, then your back, and up to where the straps of your dress rest. You can feel your heart flip when he hooks it on his finger, slowly peeling it off your shoulder, as if giving you time to push him away, but teasing at the same time.

You let the strap fall down your arm, and the other one soon follows. Robby’s gaze follows the motion like he’s watching something sacred, like he's not sure if he's allowed to want this but can't help himself anyway.

His fingers trail over your now-bare shoulder, and you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You take his hand and slowly make your way towards the bed, sitting down and placing your hands on his waist. You tug at his shirt, hinting you want it off, and he obliges, the shirt gone in one swift motion.

"You’re beautiful," He groans as he leans down to lie on top of you. "God."

You memorize the feel of him: warm skin, a strong chest under your palms, the steady rhythm of his breath stuttering slightly when your hands roam lower to reach his belt. He lets you undo it. Lets you unbutton his pants and pull them down as he peppers kisses throughout your body.

You let out a soft moan when his hand trails up your naked torso, hesitantly, ever so gently caressing your breast, teasing your nipple with his finger, while his mouth makes its way down to latch onto the other.

"Fuck, Robby." Your hand goes up to tug on his hair, earning you a lustful groan, while your other hand grabs onto his arm as an anchor.

Your head is spinning, and something is itching. You buck your hips up to meet his, and now his hand is pinning your waist down.

"You really need to work on your patience." He teases and stops kissing you.

"Can you really blame me?" You daringly take one of his hands, resting it on the slick heat between your thighs.

"Fuck." Robby closes his eyes, pressing his thumb to where he can feel your clitoris is, the sensitive bud poking out and pushing against your panties.

You throw your head back, hips bucking against his hand.

Robby slowly slips the little piece of clothing off, and you watch as his fingers smooth over your slit. He keeps his eyes on you as he lowers himself. You swallow as you anticipate what he's about to do.

"So fucking wet." He murmurs, leaving kitten licks on your clit.

You can only moan while he has his way with you. His hands are holding your thighs open for him, and you try your best to keep eye contact, but it's only making you falter faster. His eyes are dark, lustful, hungry, and you feel like you could cum just from watching him.

He gently sucks on your swollen bud, and you lose your mind when he inserts one finger. Then two. Your slick makes it easy for his fingers to move around and find your sensitive spot, he found it almost immediately, he can tell by the way your eyes roll back and how you clench around him every time.

"Robby—" You sigh with pleasure—a warning, bucking your hips again, and this time he lets you, feeling you're close to the edge. His fingers move expertly in and out of you, curling just at the right spot. Your breaths become erratic, following the pace of Robby's fingers. "Come, sweetheart." He says, almost as a command, and your body arches moments after, breath catching in your throat as waves of pleasure crash through you.

Robby doesn't immediately stop. He pumps his fingers a few more times until you're trembling away, and with a proud smirk, he pulls his fingers out, licks them to taste you—making sure you're watching—before hovering on top of you to kiss you.

You can taste yourself in his mouth, and you whimper, feeling him pressing against your cunt. You're still sensitive, but it feels like you're desperately hungry for more. More of Robby.

Robby tries to pace himself, he doesn't want to rush. He wants to cherish this, drag this out, because he doesn't want this to end. He wants to keep feeling your plush lips against his, your soft touches, your hands in his hair, your body pressed firmly against his.

"Robby," you whisper, your voice barely more than air, "I want you. Please."

And he loses all of his resolve.

Robby bites his lip as he sees your disheveled state. Lips swollen, hair a mess, hooded and hungry eyes, how can he say no to you?

He takes his boxers off, freeing his cock and letting it spring back up to his stomach. You gasp at the sight. He's gonna kill you. First with his gentleness, second with his cock, because you don't think you can handle that.

"Fuck off." You unintentionally comment.

Robby lets out a laugh. "Relax."

"Are you kidding?"

He just shakes his head and hovers over you again, but this time you push him over so he's sitting and you're on top, your sopping wet cunt sitting on his aching cock.

"Sweetheart, you're killing me." He closes his eyes and groans as you drag your hips along his length.

You decide neither of you would last any more teasing, so you take him in your hands, covered in your wetness and his precum, and push him against your folds. Your walls squeeze him as he bottoms out inside you, and you have to hold still for a while.

Robby's hands grip your waist and you're sure it'll leave marks in the morning, but you don't really care. You lift your hips slowly, leaving just the tip before slamming yourself back down, eliciting a moan from both of you.

You're set on a pace, slow, steady, allowing you to have control, but it's not enough. You groan and bury your face in Robby's neck. "Robby…"

"Hm?" He teases, like he knows what you're about to ask for.

"Please," You whisper. "I need…"

He pulls you from hiding your face, a confident smirk on his. But he decides to be merciful this time. Chuckling, he moves so you're now flat on your back again, legs tucked up and pressed onto your sides.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?"

You manage to let out a giggle. "Robby, don't worry—" your words are immediately cut off when he reinserts himself, the position makes it feel completely different from before. "—Holy fuck."

Robby starts slow, letting you fully adjust before feeling you clench around him, and he picks up the speed. You feel like the air is knocked out of your lungs, only able to take short breaths as Robby brutally drives into you, making you feel all of him.

You can't even moan anymore, your mouth just hangs open as you put your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss you can't properly do. Strings of fuck—Robby—so deep—fuck—you feel so good are the only things you can muster as you feel your high approaching again.

You couldn't even warn him when your orgasm hits you. Your nails just dig into his shoulder as your eyes roll back, back arching as far as it could go, and walls spasming around him. He grunts, nibbling on your neck as his hips stutter, not expecting you to get so tight.

"Fuck." He moans as he spills inside you, staying still for a minute to catch his breath and make sure you're okay.

You're still panting and twitching under him, eyes still closed, but your hands draw small circles on the back of his head.

"'M gonna pull out now." He warns and you hum, moaning again when he does.

He stands up to get a towel to clean you up, "Don't go anywhere." He jokes.

You chuckle. "Don't think I can."

The room is quiet now, only the sound of the AC and the steady rhythm of your breaths can be heard. You're both tangled in the sheets, your leg draped over his, skin still warm from everything that just passed between you. Robby lies on his side, one arm wrapped around your waist, fingertips gently grazing your back in slow, absent-minded strokes. You’re tucked into his chest, your head resting in the curve of his shoulder, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.

Eventually, he presses a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there.

"You're kind of amazing," He mutters.

"Kind of?" You raise a brow.

He huffs a quiet laugh, "I’m trying not to let it go to your head."

You shift, propping your chin on his chest so you can look at him. His hair is tousled, his eyes soft, still heavy-lidded. "Too late."

He smiles and presses another kiss to your lips.

"Do you always kiss like that on vacation?" You tease.

He chuckles, "Only when I meet someone who gives me their favorite book."

"Pretty exclusive club."

"You're the only member."

You nuzzle closer into him, smiling into his chest. "I'm not gonna lie," You start, "This all feels a little surreal. I never thought I'd meet someone like you. You make all of this feel… right."

"I feel the same way." He admits, "I want to pause everything and just stay in our little bubble."

The silence stretches comfortably for a moment. And then, you get a gut-wrenching realization. "Oh. Right. You said you're only here for a week."

He nods, voice tighter, his hand still tracing along your side. "Yeah."

"So we’ve got, what… four more?"

"Mm-hm." He pulls you close to him, perhaps it's a way so you can't see his sullen expression. "Four more days in the bubble."

And it's hardly enough time.

The next few days blur in sunlight and ocean breeze, you take Robby on winding motorbike rides, wild ATV tours through the jungle, surfing lessons where you both wipe out laughing, and quiet moments snorkeling with whale sharks. You try to make as many memories as you can, all the while masking the dread of his departure. And at night, it’s always the same—his touch like a promise, your body moving with his in the dark, like you're both pretending the end isn't coming.

You both made the silent decision not to say where you’re from. Maybe if you find out he lives just hours away, it’ll make this too real. Too painful. Better to keep things suspended in this bubble, this almost-fairytale. Better to let it end on a hopeful note, instead of a practical-hurtful one.

You’ve told yourself this is just a fling. That some people come into your life for a reason, and maybe Robby was never meant to stay. Maybe he’s just a beautiful lesson in loving deeply and letting go.

You try not to cry in front of him. You want to make the goodbye easier than it feels, to shield him and yourself from the ache that's already blooming in your chest. You try to seem light, even when it’s breaking you.

It’s not easy for Robby, either. If he could, he’d offer you his world—just to wake up beside you every morning and fall asleep with you tucked against his chest. But it wouldn’t be fair. He could never ask you to upend your life for him, no matter how much he wants to.

And maybe that’s the hardest part, he wants to do this right. He wants to believe this is more than just a vacation high. But what if his reality—grueling shifts, emotional exhaustion, his work-life imbalance—ends up driving you away? There’s so much he wants to say, but maybe silence is the merciful choice.

It's the night before he leaves, and you can't say goodbye. But it’s there, hanging unspoken in the humid air between kisses, in the way you cling to each other just a little tighter. You talk quietly about nothing at all, and everything at once—movies you haven’t seen, food you miss, a joke about whale sharks that makes you both laugh a little too hard at 1AM.

At one point, while tracing lazy circles on his chest, he asks, "Should I go before you wake up?"

You don’t answer right away, but then nod. Robby can see your lips quivering slightly.

He pulls you closer to him, but neither of you falls asleep quickly. You make love again, slower this time, as if trying to memorize each other’s skin. As if trying to stretch the hours. You fall asleep tangled together, heartbeats in sync.

By the time the soft blue of dawn creeps up, Robby’s already awake. He moves quietly, getting dressed in the soft light, careful not to wake you. Before he leaves, he pauses by your bedside. You’re still curled under the covers, looking peaceful and beautiful.

He looks at you like he’s trying to remember everything.

Then he pulls something from his bag—a folded piece of paper—and tucks it gently into the book you gave him. His fingers linger on the cover for a beat too long.

He leaves without a sound.

You wake hours later to an empty room, your chest already aching before your mind catches up. You sit up slowly, the sheets cold beside you. You scan everything in your room, maybe Robby had left something behind that you could keep as a memento.

Then you see the book. You open it to find the note inside:

"You changed something in me. Thank you for letting me be yours, even just for a moment."

And that’s when you finally let yourself cry.

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part two for a reunion is out!

#michael robby robinavitch x you #michael robinavitch x female reader #michael robby robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #robby x reader #robby x female reader #robby robinavitch #dr robby x reader #robby robinavitch angst #michael robinavitch x you #michael robinavitch smut #robby robinavitch smut #dr robby angst #robby robinavitch x fem reader

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bunnyhugs77 · 1 year ago

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Mr. Take Your Bitch

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.

Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.

"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.

"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."

"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.

"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.

"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.

"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"

"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.

"Exactly, and-"

"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.

Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.

They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.

It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.

The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.

Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.

That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.

You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.

You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.

She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.

She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.

Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.

Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.

With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.

Did you zone out?

You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.

Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.

You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.

It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.

He was looking right at you.

And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.

You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.

It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.

The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.

You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.

Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm

Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm

Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm

You scoff at the messages.

Unbelievable.

Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!

You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.

If you could even call it that.

You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.

Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.

You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.

You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.

"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.

"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.

"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.

"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.

"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.

"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"

"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.

She could see you were starting to consider it.

"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.

"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."

Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.

That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.

She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.

You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.

This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.

Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.

He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.

The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.

He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.

Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.

"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"

The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.

Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.

Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.

Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.

You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.

"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-

"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.

"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"

It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.

"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.

This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.

"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.

"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."

"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."

Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.

Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.

The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.

Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.

"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.

By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.

"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.

"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."

There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.

Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.

He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-

A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.

Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.

Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.

In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.

His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.

With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.

As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.

Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.

Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.

Even if you didn't know it yet.

Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.

Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.

"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.

Almost as though he wanted you to break.

You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.

"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.

"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."

Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.

"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.

There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.

Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.

"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.

While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?

Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.

The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.

The elevator dings and the doors open.

You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.

Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm

Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm

You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."

The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.

Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,

"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"

"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."

The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.

The doors open.

You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.

The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.

"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.

Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.

"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.

"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.

"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.

How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.

Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.

"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."

"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.

He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.

The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.

"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."

You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"

Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."

It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-

Your phone buzzes.

You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm

Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm

God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.

You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm

Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm

You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.

You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm

You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm

You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm

You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.

You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.

The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.

"Love to."

The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.

Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."

It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.

This very moment was destined from the start.

"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.

"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.

His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.

His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"

"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.

"So you admit it. You think about me too?"

You step back.

"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.

The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.

But you couldn't.

He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."

You don't want him. you lie to yourself.

Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.

"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.

There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.

The dam finally broke.

You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.

This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.

The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--

"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.

You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.

And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.

"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.

"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"

You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.

"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.

He was waiting for you.

The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.

The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.

Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.

A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.

On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,

He spins you around, he had you cornered.

Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.

This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.

He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.

Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?

"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.

You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.

All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.

You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.

He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.

You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.

"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.

Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.

You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.

Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.

He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.

You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.

"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"

You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.

On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.

"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.

You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.

Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.

It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?

He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.

He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.

"Hope you're not scared of heights."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.

"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.

Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.

"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.

It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.

You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.

"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.

Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.

You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.

"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.

That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.

Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.

Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.

"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.

Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.

He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.

"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.

"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."

You open the envelope to read the card aloud,

'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'

Sunny squealed in your ear.

"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"

Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."

He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-

"How- What?"

"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.

"I know."

"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.

"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"

He smiles.

#bts #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jungkook fic recs #bts one shot #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #btssmuts #bts scenarios #fluff #bts smut #smut

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slaytheusurper · 3 months ago

Text

⭑ One more kiss ⭑

Masterlist

Request: Yes , @slainmori

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gf!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, includes sadism but nothing too heavy, eddie being a munch, rough sex, spanking, degrading, daddy kink, dom!eddie, sub!reader, making out, dry humping/grinding, 'fake' fucking, fingering, blowjob, teasing and creampie + lovely aftercare.

Summary: Spending a casual Saturday hanging out with Eddie never not turns into him fucking you until you can't walk.

Word count: 4k

Divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

It was another quiet Saturday night tucked away in the soft disarray of Eddie Munson’s trailer, your usual weekend ritual.

The glow of the desk lamp made for a cozy, warm vibe, and the faint hum of distant traffic from the nearby highway was just background noise to the stillness inside.

You were curled up at the foot of his bed, textbook in your lap, brows furrowed as you tried to wrap your head around a particularly unforgiving math formula. Your pen tapped absently against the paper, ink smudging from your fingers as you worked through yet another problem.

Beside you, Eddie was splayed out on the bed like a restless cat, flipping through pages in his infamous Hellfire campaign notebook, the one you still weren’t allowed to peek at- no matter how much you begged.

Wayne had taken an extra night shift at the plant, so the place was yours and Eddie’s for the evening. No dinner plans. No parties. Just the two of you existing together, breathing the same air, feeling that quiet comfort of each other's presence. Or at least, that had been the idea.

Eddie shifted again, his leg jostling the mattress. Then again. And again. You bit your lip, trying not to react, but finally, you snapped your head up with a frustrated sigh.

“Eds, can you please stop moving? I’m trying to concentrate.” He froze mid-fidget, blinking at you like a guilty raccoon caught digging through trash.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sounding particularly sorry at all. He set his notebook aside with exaggerated care, the corner of his mouth twitching in a way that told you he was up to something.

“But seriously, why are you doing that now? It’s Saturday. That’s like...a crime against fun.”

“Because,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing your pen at him like a sword, “I don’t do homework on Sundays, you know that. And someone insisted on taking me out for that dinner date last night, so I didn’t get this done.”

Eddie let out a dramatic groan, flopping back onto the mattress like he was physically wounded by your logic. “Ugh, how dare I spend quality time with my beautiful girlfriend? I’m the worst.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to refocus, but you barely got through another line of the problem before Eddie started crawling toward you across the bed like a slow, determined jungle cat.

“Eddie,” you warned, inching your notebook further away.

“I’m just saying,” he said, his voice now suspiciously innocent, “this could be a lot more fun if you’d just take a little break…”

You dodged his grabby hands as he lunged for your book. “Don’t you dare!”

Too late. With one swift, smug motion, he swiped your textbook and notebook, sending them sliding off the bed with a dull thud. You stared at the floor in disbelief for a beat before turning back to him, hands in the air.

“Seriously?”

Eddie, now triumphant, wriggled into your lap like a child claiming a throne, arms coiling around your waist and legs tangling with yours until you were thoroughly pinned.

He rested his chin against your chest and gazed up at you with those impossibly big, soft brown eyes- eyes that knew exactly how to get their way.

A crooked, bashful grin tugged at his lips. “Hi.”

You narrowed your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they lifted just slightly. He was impossible. Infuriating. And totally irresistible.

You sighed, letting your fingers find their way into his curls. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie nuzzled into you with a satisfied hum. “You’re lucky I’m persistent.”

And you knew exactly what he was up to the moment that playful glint sparked in his eyes, his cute smile twisting into that familiar mischievous grin, the one that always meant trouble, the kind you didn’t really mind.

Slowly, deliberately, he inched his way up your body, his weight pressing comfortably into you, grounding you in the moment.

His hands moved with feather-light teasing, fingertips grazing your sides as he crawled closer, until his face hovered just inches from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your cheek, the scent of his cologne and a hint of cigarettes clinging to him.

Then came the first kiss- soft, almost comically innocent. A mere brush of lips, fleeting and barely there.

You raised an eyebrow, but he only grinned wider.

Another kiss. A little firmer this time, but still far too sweet to be taken seriously.

“Eddie…” you warned playfully, a smirk tugging at your mouth.

A third kiss. A fourth. Each one drawn out just enough to make you squirm, until he pulled back, eyes scanning your face like he was memorizing every twitch, every falter in your resolve.

And then it came, that laugh. The one you tried to fight off, bubbling up anyway, light and breathy and completely helpless against his antics.

He loved that sound.

The second it escaped you, he dipped back down, and this time your lips met his eagerly. Gone was the teasing restraint, replaced by something deeper, more consuming.

You kissed him with slow-burning passion, hands threading through his hair as he sighed into your mouth like he’d been waiting for you to give in all along.

The world melted away, replaced by the softness of his skin, the heat between you, the steady thrum of shared affection that made everything else feel secondary.

Eddie’s hands slowly caressed your body, feeling you up before settling on your hips. With enough force he was able to roll you both over, him laying on his back with you in his lap.

Due to the movement your lips had unfortunately separated, even though it was only seconds- it felt like minutes.

Everything about Eddie drove you crazy, his jokes, his charm, his dramatics and his insanely handsome face. And right now, all you needed was to kiss that pretty face. But Eddie was faster than you and quickly pulled you back in by your neck.

His lips smashed against yours again, not wasting much time before slipping his tongue in your mouth. Exploring and teasing you until you started to ground your hips against his more firmly.

Eddie bucked his hips up to meet yours and let out a groan upon the stimulation. Sometimes this gets you more worked up than the actual sex. Just dry humping each other until you got off.

You moaned in Eddie’s mouth when he grabbed your ass cheeks and grinded you against him hard, pausing the kiss. Your clothed sexes hitting each other just right, making you roll your eyes back.

Eddie fucked his hips up harder, the friction against his cock driving him insane. He couldn’t stop. It felt too good. You were both starting to get close, but you needed more, needed his hands, tongue or cock- it didn’t matter.

“Ed’s wait, fuck- need you please.”

Eddie stilled his hips with what little restraint he had, and flipped you over. Your back now landing on the mattress, as Eddie’s already heaving form crawled on top of you. He was so horny, he’d do anything you’ll tell him.

“What do you want baby? Hm? Daddy’s cock, or maybe my mouth first?” Eddie’s eyes were filled with lust as he peered down at you, hair dishevelled and messy.

“Your mouth- Please-” You whined, trying to kiss him again but he backed away.

“No no, please…what?” Eddie tutted, his hands keading your thighs. Since you were wearing your shortests, comfiest shorts, he had a perfect view of the wet patch forming already. Knowing how wet he made you never got old.

“Please daddy, need your mouth first.”

He grinned at your words, and lowered his head to kiss and suck at your neck. His lips grazed your skin, letting his tongue roam before he softly blew- as if you weren’t worked up enough.

When you bucked up your hips, he decided to give you mercy. Eddie let his hands slide up from your thighs to one of his metallica t-shirts you were wearing and helped you pull it off. He bit his lower lip before diving in to suck on one of your nipples. Oh how Eddie loved the days you discarded your bra.

The feeling between your thighs started to become unbearable, your clit throbbing at this point. Luckily Eddie noticed your squirming and kissed down your now bare stomach to the edge of your shorts.

“Let’s take these off too baby, wanna see you.” Eddie cooed before pulling off your shorts when you nodded. He ripped off your panties too, and gave himself a show as he parted your legs.

Even with all his cozy lights on, he still got a perfect view of your glistening pussy. All wet and puffy for him. He licked his lips before finally planting a teasing kiss on your cunt, making you whine in response.

“Please daddy-” You whimpered, one of your hands moving down to grasp his curls.

Eddie decided to be nice, for now, and licked a long stipe up your folds. A high pitched moan left your lips, with how sensitive you were from Eddie’s teasing, everything felt terribly good.

Squelching noises filled Eddie’s room as his tongue lapped faster and faster against your clit, pulling loud cries from you. You desperately hold on to Eddie’s hair as he ruins you with his tongue.

To prepare you for his cock later, he slides one finger inside your wet cunt, it going in with ease due to how turned on you were. He slowly fingered you open while still pleasuring you with his mouth. Eddie hummed against your pussy, if he died now, he would die a happy man.

Once he felt like you could take more, he added a second finger, making you moan out his name as he thrusted his fingers inside you. He could feel how your wetness was dripping onto the sheets below, it only made his cock twitch more. Knowing he was doing that to you.

“I’m so close daddy!” You cried out, his fingers curling right against where you needed him. He positioned the tip of his tongue to move more precisely against your clit, making you fall apart on his fingers moments later.

He relished in the way you screamed his name, dragging out your orgasm as long as possible before finally letting you go. He was only just getting started, right now, he was still being nice to you.

You knew however things were going to get much more rough now. Eddie’s eyes seemed to have grown darker, his pupils widely dilated as he crawled back up to you like a predator.

Even though the way you had sex varied- loving, passionate, heated, slow, drunk, high or rough, Eddie always made sure you were pleasured first. Tonight he definitely was in a dominant mood, and you wanted nothing more than for him to use you.

Eddie planted his lips on yours again, forcing his tongue inside as he kissed you. The air was thick with arousal, Eddie having already leaked though the black ripped jeans he was wearing.

He pulled back, leaving a string of spit between you. It only drove him crazier when he took in your sweaty, blissed out state. He wanted to ruin you tonight.

“Are you gonna be good for me baby? Gonna let daddy make you feel good?”

You nodded frantically as Eddie started to pull off his shirt, revealing the tattoo’s littered on his pale chest. His happy trail was on full display, making you almost foam at the mouth. No matter how many times you fucked, you could never get enough of Eddie.

“Like what you see sweetheart?” Eddie grinned, falling back slightly into his usual teasing and playful demeanor before unbuttoning his jeans. He quickly lifted from the bed to fully take them off, leaving him in his boxers.

He gestured for you to come to him when he kneeled on the bed. You obediently did as you were told, sitting on your heels in front of him, waiting for his command.

“Wanna suck daddy’s dick before daddy splits you open?” Your heart jumped in excitement and you nodded once more.

“Words baby.”

“Wanna suck your dick daddy.” You repeated to him with blushed cheeks.

“Good girl, go on.”

You could feel your sensitive clit throb again at his words. Doing as you were told, you inched closer to him, lowering your head until you were face to face with his leaking bulge. Looking up at him expectantly, he gave you a nod.

Eddie was used to you going straight in, but with all the teasing he did to you tonight, you were getting payback, no matter the consequences. He gave you a questionable look when you simply pecked his clothed hard on.

“I’m warning you sweetheart.”

He tried not to show how it affected him, but you heard how he inhaled upon the touch. So you continued, leaving kisses on his bulge and even starting to lick at the wetted fabric, tasting the precum that had leaked through.

“Be good.”

Taking that as a sign to not push him further you pulled back. Hooking two fingers on each side at the waistband, you lowered Eddie’s boxers until his hard length sprung free, he was so hard at this point, it fully touched his belly button, beads of pre-cum still dribbling from his tip.

You smiled up at him innocently before taking him in your hand, tugging the skin over his tip before finally taking him in your mouth. Eddie couldn’t help but moan as he felt your warm, wet tongue grazing the skin.

He let his head fall back when you started to bob your head up and down his cock, gagging every so often when you had gone too deep. Eddie chuckled as you gagged once more, spit drooling from your chin onto the sheets.

“Cute, thinking you can take all of me. Is it too big for you baby?” Eddie cooed, trying not to gasp when your hand started to massage his balls.

You couldn’t answer when your mouth was stuffed full of his cock, so you continued to suck Eddie off. It was only seconds later that Eddie pulled you back by your hair.

“That’s enough, turn around and get on all fours. I think you deserve a little punishment for that shit you pulled just now, don’t you think baby?” His voice sounded hoarse and low, it made your walls clench in excitement.

You did as he ordered and even fully lowered your chest into the mattress, pushing out your ass for him teasingly. Eddie had to hold back and not immediately plunge his cock into your perfect hole that was on display for him.

Instead his hands spread open your cheeks, confusing you, was he going to punish you, or fuck you already? Eddie then tutted, letting one hand fall to his side as the other still caressed your right ass cheek.

“You know not to disobey me baby. Were you upset daddy teased you? Thought you should tease daddy back? You know that’s not how it works sweetheart.” Eddie reprimanded, his hand now massaging the fat of your ass.

You whined at his touch, anticipating what was coming.

“Such a fucking slut, arching your back like that. What? Thought you could distract me? Almost did baby, that’s how fucking hot you are.”

Just when you thought he was expecting an answer, his hand let go of you for a moment. Until it collided hard with your skin, making your body jerk and a surprised gasp leaving your lips.

You were sure your ass was already red from that one slap, but Eddie was not done.

“What do you think baby? I think ten more will do, don’t you?” Eddie groaned, playing with your ass again. He was already very worked up himself, but he knew it would be worth it.

“Mhmm.”

You shuddered.

His hand then slapped your cheek again, hard. Rings colliding with the skin, the sound cut through the room. He repeated it, each time smacking you harder. Until you whined and a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Aw I’m sorry baby, but you knew what would happen.” Eddie tutted, his hand now soothingly stroking the red and irritated skin.

“Don’t worry, daddy will give you his cock now, make you feel so much better huh?”

You could barely think, all you wanted was for him to stretch you out with his dick. Arching your back a little bit more down, you urged him to finally fuck you already.

Eddie chuckled behind you at how desperate you had become, and jerked himself a bit before letting his head slide through your soaked folds.

“Fucckk baby, so warm and wet. Even better than your mouth.”

Eddie drank in your cry when he nudged his tip inside, before sinking into you fully. Your tight walls enveloped him and he couldn’t hold back his own moan. He relished the feeling for a moment before fully pulling out again.

He already earned a protesting whine from you and smiled to himself. When you wiggled your ass back, he took hold of your hips and gave you what you wanted.

He thrusted his cock back inside you and immediately started a steady rhythm. Your pussy squelched around him, the dirty noise filling the room, as well as the sounds of Eddie’s heavy balls smacking against your skin.

You could not stop moaning his name, begging him to fuck you harder. You needed it rough tonight.

“What was that baby?” Eddie groaned, his tip hitting your cervix just right.

“Please daddy- harder!”

That was all Eddie needed. He propped up his right leg and held himself stable with his foot on the bed. Then he really let go. Pounding into you hard, holding onto your hips for dear life so you wouldn’t fall over.

He couldn't blame you, he knew that you were so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold onto anything, you just let him take you. Eddie drove into you over and over, his entire body now covered in sweat.

He could feel himself getting close, his balls drawing tight and tip twitching. You were no better, your cunt clenching around him tightly as you drooled onto the mattress below. Eddie really needed to change his sheets after tonight.

“You gonna come for me sweetheart? Fuck, want you to cream on my cock!” Eddie’s dominant demeanour was faltering the closer he got. You loved the way you could make him a whimpering, moaning mess too, even when he was rough with you.

“Mm- gonna cum daddy, please- please my c-clit!” You moaned, barely getting out what you needed.

Eddie still heard you and moved one of his hands from your hip to between your thighs. Rubbing your clit along with his hard and fast thrusts. He was really hoping to make you squirt tonight, already groaning at the thought.

It was getting hard to reach your clit well while also driving into you, so Eddie hunched more over your body, moving his left hand off your hip as well, so he could use his arm to press you against his stomach.

His hips now rutted into you perfectly and you could only mewl as Eddie used his skilled fingers to finally make you cum. Eddie got his wish when you couldn’t hold back, and squirted on his dick, his legs and the sheets- which he might as well throw away at this point.

You cried out Eddie’s name, yet he did not stop- rutting into like a rabid dog chasing his own relief. Eddie let out a string of curses as he rolled his hips harder against yours. He was so fucking close, his balls aching for relief.

Pounding into a few more times, his brain turned to mush. Eddie let out the loudest strangled moan you had ever heard as his cum filled you up. His thrusts now slowed but he did not stop until Eddie was sure he fully emptied himself.

He stayed pressed against you, kissing your shoulder as you both caught your breath. But Eddie had gone soft and had to pull out. With a hiss, he left your warm cunt and pulled out of you.

He fell back on the mattress and you let yourself fall onto your side, feeling how Eddie’s cum trickled out of you. But Eddie couldn’t leave you for long, he forced himself up and got a wet towel for the both of you.

Climbing back onto the bed with a loving smile, he kissed your forehead before using the towel to clean you up. Using the other side to clean his own dick. When he felt like it was good enough, he threw it on the floor.

The mattress shifted beneath you with a familiar creak as Eddie slid in beside you, the worn springs groaning softly under his weight. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged your boneless, thoroughly spent body against his chest.

His skin was still warm, slick in places, and his heartbeat thudded steady and soothing where your back met his chest.

You let out a contented sigh, every muscle in your body pleasantly sore, Eddie had really worn you out tonight. But as your fingers idly traced circles along the curve of his forearm draped around you, your eyes flicked up to his face.

God, he was beautiful like this- hair tousled and damp with sweat, falling in wild curls over his forehead. His lips were parted in a lazy, satisfied grin, eyes half-lidded with that soft, blissed-out glow that made your heart flutter. It was impossible to be annoyed for long when he looked at you like that.

But then… reality came crashing back in.

“Shit,” you muttered, eyes snapping shut as frustration surged up like a wave.

Eddie, barely conscious and still floating in the afterglow, groaned sleepily into your shoulder.

“What now?”

“My homework,” you groaned, flopping back against the pillow with an exasperated huff. “You made me forget it- again. It’s literally due Monday, Eddie.”

He let out a laugh that was equal parts smug and sleepy, his hand smoothing up and down your side as he pulled you even closer, as if to physically keep you from escaping.

“Sorry, baby.” He murmured, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Maybe next time don’t be so damn irresistible.”

You twisted in his arms just enough to give him a mock glare, but it quickly melted under his soft grin and the warmth of his touch. With a sigh, you let your head fall back against his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you into stillness.

“Next time.” You mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

But you both knew there’d be no resisting him next time either.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you

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yes-no-maybe-soo · 2 months ago

Text

What Sylus can do with his Evol

(That we know of. Will be updated sporadically as new info comes out)

A few notes:

1. Sylus' Evol is Energy Manipulation. Which is a bit vague to interpret just what that encompasses, but if we take it to mean all form of energy then the implications of his powers become staggering and honestly pretty terrifying. Quite literally everything around us contain energy. As per Einstein's famous equation, E=mc², mass itself is a form of energy, ie simply having mass means an object has energy. Meaning that there might be no limit to what Sylus can control and manipulate, and this is supported by the original CN text of his anecdote, where his Evol is described as essentially all-encompassing and all-powerful.

2. This post is merely a list compiling all (or nearly all) that we have canonically seen Sylus do with his Evol. It is purely for enjoyment and to hype up our man. I will not go into details on the physics behind his power or anything like that – that I leave to more intelligent minds than mine. I'm just a gremlin who likes making lists and looking at details and (sometimes) connecting dots. Math and physics? Worst subjects in school ;-; would rather sit through 89 consecutive rounds of Find Tobias than one half hour of math.

3. If I missed anything on this list, don't hesitate to point it out to me!

4. I want to give huge thanks to @kookieluvs for kindly sending me the direct (fan) translation of Sylus' anecdote! It goes into more detail on Sylus' Evol than the localization (where things sadly seem to have gotten lost in translation) does, and really gives you a sense of how truly powerful (and frightening) it is. A link to the translation is included above, and I highly recommend you check it out!

Without further ado, here is the list of what Sylus canonically can do with his Evol

✧. Disintegrate fully grown men in a matter of seconds

Nothing is left behind of these men. No blood, no matter, no nothing. As though they never existed in the first place.

(He has also done the same to inanimate objects, like bullets)

✧. Create extremely powerful energy charges

The man actually punches a crater into the ground oml

✧. Create energy bursts

✧. Infuse his energy in weapons

✧. Create black holes(?!?!)

...do you see what I mean when I say that this power is lowkey frightening af?

✧. Transform his body into pure energy

Great for when he needs to dramatically leap off skyscrapers or old cathedrals. Taking the elevator or the stairs is for lesser men. Gotta make a memorable first impression, you know?

✧. Teleport (himself and others)

✧. Heal wounds in an instant

These wounds can range from minor cuts to bullet holes. Meaning that he can repair deep internal injuries and bleeding.

✧. Mend shirts

Yes. I'm deadass. Look at the images above.

✧. Evaporate blood

And presumably other liquids.

✧. Halt fatal internal diseases

We see him do this – rather brutally – to the twins in Mischief (World Underneath Story). The twins had 3 months left to live before that. They're alive and thriving over two years later.

✧. Summon people and objects to him/Levitate them

He will occasionally do this with plushies in the claw machine too, if you let him play and if he is feeling extra helpful. A (small but still important) portion of my affinity comes from Sylus summoning plushies in a color I hadn't gotten yet.

✧. Control and restrain others' movements

✧. Manipulate Objects

Another example of this is him shutting the doors in Philip's shop in the main story. Or unlocking the handcuffs in Midnight Stealth.

✧. Put out lights

He does this in chapter 3 of the anecdote

✧. Seal off entire areas

Does this as well in the same chapter as above

✧. Strangle

What he does to Sherman in the main story

✧.Change colours of flowers

And presumably of other things. I gotta be honest, this right here is to me one of the most insane things he can do because of what it implies about just how crazy powerful and encompassing his Evol truly is.

✧.Make seeds sprout and bloom without soil

He does this in chapter 1 of the Wildlight Chronicles. The flower crumbles and wilts seconds after he makes it bloom, but still, he made it happen. Which is very impressive. Like MC points out, channeling energy into and changing something as small as a seed takes a lot of control and precision. Another major thing that I want to add on to this is that this confirms that Sylus can force a living organism to speed through the different stages of life, manipulating and changing them. Or to put it simply he can age them up. And if he can do so to one type of organism... who's to say he can't do it to other? IE animals and humans. And maybe he can even do it in reverse? This is not confirmed but it is interesting to think about and makes me ponder about his claim in Beyond Cloudfall of being able to raise the dead... maybe it is tied to his Evol after all? Or maybe his Evol powers are somehow tied to his demonic powers? 🤔

✧.Purge metaflux

MC and him use their resonance to clear a metaflux contaminated lake in Chapter 2 of the Wildlight Chronicles.

That's all I have for the strictly Evol driven powers (I have more than likely missed something, in which case I apologize 😔 I am only human. A very tired one at that. But like I said, there probably isn't a limit to what Sylus can manipulate anyway so... writing down every individual thing would be... a lot dhdjfj).

However.

I am not done.

I still want to quickly discuss a few more of his powers, because this man still isn't OP enough ig. But I put them in a sort of separate category since I am pretty sure they are not tied to his Evol but rather to his aether core and his demonic powers.

Anyway, to start off

Sylus can control/invade minds

This is only really touched upon in the anecdote as far as I can remember.

Those affected by this lose all awareness and consciousness of their surroundings for as long as Sylus wants them to. We learn that some of the victims were never quite the same again after. These details make it clear that this is not strictly mind control, but something deeper and more terrifying – a complete and total invasion of it.

Sylus can see people's innermost desires thanks to his aether core

He reveals this to MC in LAR.

Sylus can transform into a dragon

99.9% sure of this. Check out this post for more of my reasonings.

Sylus (or Stayrus) can resurrect the dead

"Even if your desire is to resurrect the people of the Ivory City, it's still within my capabilities" word for word what Sylus/Stayrus says in Beyond Cloudfall (Chapter 3). We don't know whether Sylus at present still has this ability or if it is affected by the tether/shackles that restrict his powers.

Which reminds me of one final thing...

All of the above that I have listed (excepting the final one), have been performed by Sylus in a nerfed state. He is unable to use his full powers due to above mentioned tethers/shackles. It's still a mystery when, how, and by who they were placed within him.

Sure would be nice to have some extra lore right about now don't you think, Paperfold?

Anyway, Sylus OP as fuck. His only true weakness is the love of his life. How that will play out only time will tell (actually I can tell you right now. They will marry and live happily ever after with their baby girls and with Mephie and the twins. The end. Trust.).

With this, I am finally done with this post. I hope you guys enjoyed it ♡

I myself will finally go to bed

_(´ω`_)⌒)_

#sylus #lads sylus #sylus lads #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace #sylus x mc #sylusmc

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 22 days ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

Girls can be good at anything that boys can be good at.

Girls can be good at math. Girls can be good at sports. Girls can be loud and brave and be good leaders.

Girls can be strong and fast, just like boys.

Girls can get angry, like boys can, and boys can cry, like girls can.

What do all these statements have in common? Well, they’re pretty much kindergarten feminism - as in, if you wanted to teach a kindergarten kid about feminism and gender equality, this would probably be where you start. These statements are easy to understand even at a young age.

Most adults are able to understand feminist messages that go beyond these simplified basics. Their thinking skills and analytical skills and knowledge of the world are - in most cases - no longer at the level they were when they were in kindergarten, and so neither is their understanding of feminism.

And yet, ironically, it’s often not the more advanced adult-level of feminism but this kindergarten-level that people will suddenly no longer grasp as soon as we talk about trans people.

Suddenly they’ll tell you girls are biologically bad at sports and math. Or that girls are biologically quiet and shy and weak. And that it’s unfair to include trans girls because they’re by nature not as weak and stupid and helpless as other girls. Having a penis means you’re by default better at everything. Being a girl means being inferior.

What a horrible message. We would be rightfully horrified if a 5 year old girl told us any of that. We’d assume she must have deeply misogynistic parents! And yet we are supposed to accept this as a valid argument coming from adults, who are able to think for themselves and no longer rely on their parents for knowledge on gender equality?

I think it’s important to keep in mind how ridiculous that is. There’s no debate. They’re just misogynistic.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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quinnkaneki · 9 days ago

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Haikyuu characters as parents/soon to be parents part 2 <3

pt 1

This part includes Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji, Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu and Suna Rintarou.

→ Bokuto Koutarou — During Pregnancy ^^

• Excited.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I'm gonna be a dad, you're pregnant, WE'RE PREGNANT, WE'RE GONNA BE PARENTS, OH MY GOD!” *lifts you up and spins you around*

• Takes time off from volleyball.

“Yeah, no. Sorry guys but I'm gonna be busy for some time, my wife needs me.”

• At your side 24/7.

“Kou, I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

“No can do little lady, what if you trip on your own feet, hmmm?? HMMM? WHAT THEN?” His arm snakes around your waist.

→ After pregnancy

• Emo mode, your son is a mini him.

“Mama is so mean papa..” He stuffs his face into Bokuto's shirt.

“Shhh, she'll hear you.”

“One more word out of you guys and your time out increases by 30 minutes” You sigh while cleaning up the broken vase. “No more damn volleyball in the house...”

• The type of dad to throw your kid in the air.

“Higher, Higher!” Your son giggles.

• Very insisting.

“Baby go back to bed, I'll get dinner ready and get S/N in the shower.”

“I can manage, you already made lun—”

“Sorry, I can't hear you, bed.”

“But—”

“Bed, bed, bedddd.”

→ Akaashi Keiji — During pregnancy ^^

• Very attentive, you mention craving something once and you'll have it the next day.

“Here you go,” he places the take out box in front of you.

“What's this?”

“Your (craving).”

• Saves for their college in advance.

“I think we should open a new savings account...” his fingers gently rub your belly.

“Oh yeah? What for?”

“Our little one's future.”

• Enjoys your weird pregnancy cravings.

“Whatcha nomming on?”

“Peanut butter and fried shrimp.”

“That's.... interesting, it looks good tho, can I try one?”

“Of course.”

*eats it* “Woah baby, you're onto something, this is pretty good.”

→ After pregnancy

• Gets called to the principal's office often.

“Sir, your son was throwing rocks at a student during recess and refused to tell us why, his behavior is unacceptable.”

—

“So...why'd you do it?” Akaashi inquires calmly as they enter his car.

“Okay so, Haru knows I like Yuki and he held her hand during recess while teasing me so I got upset..” he mutters.

“....You know what, understandable. If someone tried to take your mom away from me I'd throw rocks at them too, let's go get some ice cream.”

• Teaches him math.

“But daddddd, I hate division!” S/N whines.

“And that's exactly why I'm teaching it to you,” Akaashi sighs “What's 8 divided by 4?”

“Just say you hate me already!”

“You need to learn! Who's gonna do my taxes when I'm old?!”

• Star gazing.

“That one's me!”

“Which one sweetheart?” You ask.

“The one shining the brightest, duh!”

→ Miya Osamu — During pregnancy^^

• Always otp with you when he's away.

“Hold on baby, someone just came in, I'm gonna take their order.”

• Makes sure you're well fed.

“Samu, what's all of this?” You look over to him.

“You're eating for two,” he shrugs and helps you sit down.

• Buys your baby food inspired plushies.

“I got this onigiri and ice cream plushie for 5 bucks! Can you believe it babe?”

→ After pregnancy

• Teaches your daughter how to bake.

“Just a scoop of sugar again and mix,” He instructs and your daughter follows.

“Okay, done! Can I eat it yet?” She looks up at Osamu innocently.

“No love, we still need to bake it,” he chuckles and kisses her temple.

• Takes his family to expensive restaurants.

“Gotta treat my little princess right so she isn't impressed by the bare minimum, right my love?” He smiles at you before shifting his gaze to your daughter who was currently devouring caviar.

• Loves gossip.

“And you know what she did daddy? She looked him in his eyes and ate his crayon! His favorite one too! She's so cool!” You daughter climbs into the backseat.

“She sounds cool sweetheart but you're definitely cooler....now tell me what he did after she ate his crayon.”

→ Miya Atsumu — During pregnancy ^^

• Crys when he finds out.

“You're... you're pregnant...” his eyes land on your stomach as tears slowly cascade down his cheeks, “You're pregnant..” he repeats and gently hugs you.

• Randomly drops the bomb on his team when you're ready.

“Damn Tsumu, you're eating all that? Did Samu rub off on you?” Hinata eyes his plate.

“Nah, it's for Y/N, she's eating for two after all.” he says and walks away.

• Doodles on your baby bump.

“What are you drawing?" You gently run your fingers through his hair as he doodles away.

“Shrek...woah, oh my god, baby did he just kick? Was that a kick? Oh my god I felt it! DADDY LOVES YOU!” *kisses your belly*

→ After pregnancy.

• Attends all of your son's school events.

“C'MON S/N RUN, RUN, RUN, YESSSSS, THAT'S MY SON!!!” He yells proudly as your 6 year old reaches the finish line.

• Pillow fights.

“MOMMMMMMY! DADDY'S CHEATING, HE HAS THE BIG PILLOW!” Your son runs into the kitchen and hides behind your legs.

• Karaoke nights.

“Okay mommy and I are gonna do this one, you tell us who sings better, yeah?” Atsumu sits him on the couch.

“Yeah, okay!” he responds excitedly.

→ Suna Rintarou — During pregnancy ^^

• Scares you.

“Hey, so I know this isn't the best way to tell you this but...” *sent*

“But? What's wrong doll?”

“I'm pregnant” *seen*

“Rin?” *delivered*

“Hello? You're scaring me...” *delivered*

20 minutes later the front door slams open “I left work as fast as possible,” He immediately embraces you.

• Your ultrasound updates are his entire gallery.

“She was so much tinier last month,” he shows you his screen.

• Puts headphones on your belly.

“Now you can say you've been listening to Arctic Monkeys since the womb, thank me later.”

→ After pregnancy.

• He updates his wallpaper monthly.

“My girls look so pretty here..” he mumbles while setting a picture of you guys with morning hair and half asleep.

• Introduces her to different genres of games early on.

“Okay so this one's a little scary, let daddy know if you don't like it okay?” The game opens to the loading screen of Resident Evil 2.

“Papa who is that blonde guy?”

“Leon Kennedy, he's the main character.” Suna explains.

“I want him.” (she's so real)

• Shows her videos of the twins fighting.

“Oh and in this one they were fighting over a pudding cup, uncle Osamu thought Atsumu ate it but it was really me.”

Hope you guys enjoyed :3

#haikyuu #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #x reader

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takumiraine · 7 months ago

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Once Upon A Time chapter 5

Jason Todd knew it was only a matter of time until his bubble burst and one of his brothers found out what he was getting up to. He was just hoping he could pull it off for a little longer. Even though the pit still reacted at the strangest times, he felt calmer, more normal, than he had in years. He wanted to hold it close and make sure nobody could take it from him.

From Replacement: you went back to college? Does B know?

Fuck.

—

Danny had been wary at first. Rich boy Jason Todd-Wayne in his college classes. The man was older than Jazz, though not by much, and a freshman with him. Either the guy was a bad influence or Danny just had really shitty luck.

He and the universe both knew the answer to than one really. But 60 bucks a week to reteach the guy basic math and Jason always gave him dinner in the deal? Danny wasn’t going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. If there was one thing Danny had forgotten during the past almost two years it was how hungry his human side got. Not having money and being on the run meant opportunities to eat were few and far between.

What Danny didn’t expect was how sarcastic and assholish the rich guy could be. He loved trading snark. Danny assumed that it came from them both having older siblings. But between that and the half formed core that was slowly shoring up, Danny found himself growing attached. He had missed having friends. Getting to talk to Sam, Tucker and rarely Jazz through a conspiracy message board wasn’t enough. Most of the time it was just a way to make sure that nobody had been captured by the GIW. They had a way to pass longer messages but to do that too often would be suspicious.

“So I don’t get it,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason with some fries almost a month into tutoring, “What do people actually do at Galas? The tabloid pics just show a bunch of people in uncomfortable looking suits standing around with champagne.”

“….thats really it. It’s boring as shit.” Jason kicked his chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall. “If I liked you less I’d invite you.”

“If you liked me less?”

“Oh yeah. Because then you’d have to meet my brothers, the assorted not quite adopteds, my dad and scarier yet, our butler.” Danny choked on his laugh.

“Your butler is the scary one in that situation?”

“Alfred is like a ghost. Always there when you turn around.” Jason put on the accent “Master Jason, you really must come home more. Nobody quite enjoys my cooking like you.” He let the chair legs settle on the floor. “Now imagine that from behind you in a dark kitchen at two am while you’re half drunk and trying to make a sandwich.”

“Okay, yeah, I could see it being that scary. My sister was….” Shit he hadn’t meant to mention Jazz. “She was the only one who cared sometimes.” May as well rip that bandaid off.

“Yeah?” Jason asked, taking a drink from his coffee cup. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”

“My family and I don’t see each other anymore. It’s for the best.” He hoped Jason wouldn’t ask more questions, because ‘my parents sold me out to the government that only knew where I was because of the Justice League which is why I hate them and by association your dad, and now my sister is in hiding in a different state with a new identity’ was way too difficult to explain. “I left before they could kick me out.”

Danny watched Jason’s face twist into a frown. “Bigots suck. Sorry man.”

“Yeah…. Well…” Danny busied himself with finishing his burger. Then, once he chewed and swallowed. “Wait. Is your dad the one that fell into the champagne tower last year?”

Jason groaned, “he’s not always like that I promise.”

“No I get it. A weird ‘Family Friend’ invited us to his fancy party so he could hit on my mom once. I accidentally on purpose took out the entire buffet table including a cheese fountain so we had to go home.”

“Cheese fountain?”

“You know those chocolate fountains?” Danny asked. Jason nodded. “Like that, but with fondue cheese instead. And before you ask why, all I can say is it was in Wisconsin.”

Jason watched him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and Danny assumed he was processing it, because when the expression broke, Jason was laughing.

He looked so much younger when he laughed like that, and Danny remembered that they had both had, in their own ways, a rough life. “Yeah. I know. I was finding cheese in the weirdest places for weeks.”

“Did you get invited back?” Danny’s heart ached with the fact that a month or so later, Everything Fell Apart.

“No… I…” he cut himself off, remembering the horrified looks his parents gave him as their weapons, the ones he fixed, were turned against the ‘beast’ that ‘possessed’ their son. The looks mimicking the ones they gave him when the party screeched to a halt as he did his best impression of a Scooby Doo villain being unmasked. The screams of shock turning into ones of horror. The -

“-anny? Danny?” He blinked and shook his head.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He took another drink from the coffee, emptying the cup. “No. I never was asked back. You done?” He looked at their empty plates and grabbed the tray. “We should get to the library. Though I’m sure someone as good looking as you has plenty, these x-es won’t find themselves.” He was overcompensating for zoning out now, words coming out faster than normal.

“Yeah… are… you okay?” Jason asked, as Danny bussed their tray and grabbed his backpack, a backpack bought by his tutoring money. A tutoring gig he desperately did not want to fuck up with his own bullshit.

“Me? Fine. More than. I just zone out sometimes. Come on.” Danny’s words were still coming out too fast. He took a few breaths during the couple seconds Jason took getting his things, trying to ground himself as much as possible. He was going to be normal. He was going to be normal if it killed him. Again.

The walk to the library was quiet and Danny was thankful for that. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to be any help to Jason and he still had his own homework to do after. As they walked in, both Danny and Jason instinctively looked towards the desk where Barbara usually worked, but she wasn’t there, some other guy was checking in books with quiet beeps.

Danny had learned over the last month that while Dick, Tim and Damian were Jason’s official siblings, Barbara was an unofficial one and he liked her the most.

It made sense, since she didn’t seem to pry into Jason’s life the way Jazz would have if she was here. Not that he would have minded her prying for how much he missed her, but four years ago he would have hated it.

—

Jason knew the haunted and hunted look that had settled into Danny’s eyes. The way he trailed off into something vacant. How his breathing seemed to get stuck in his chest. Which is why he tried to interrupt the cycle before he could spiral. Something big happened to him, and Jason knew he wouldn’t want to break down in a cafe in front of people.

Thankfully he seemed to snap out of it quickly, instead overcompensating into energetic. The message was clear. ‘Don’t ask about what just happened.’ Carefully, Jason let Danny lead him into the library, aware of his positioning and making sure not to follow too far behind or loom too much. Considering he had at least six inches on Danny, that last part was hard, but he tried.

He could feel the pit spiraling in him, circling and coiling like a dragon deep in his chest. Itching to do…. Something. It wasn’t punch or claw or fight. This was new. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

He looked over to where Babs usually was, then remembered she had a class, criminal justice degree, how apt, as he and Danny went towards what was now their spot. Jason found he had the sudden impulse to pull Danny’s chair out for him, and shoved that particular useless idea back down into the abyss it belonged in.

—

Danny looked over at Jason who stood at the edge of the table looking…. Angry? Confused? and pulled out his own books. “I promise, my zoning out isn’t contagious.” He said, looking up at Jason and kicking the chair across from him out from under the table for Jason to sit. He gave a wry smile, “if it was, I don’t think anyone in my high school would have made it.”

Jason snorted a laugh, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. Jason pulled the chair out further and sat, sitting more comfortably than he used to. More of the true Jason, Danny was realizing, less of the person he was supposed to be. In another lifetime…. But no. He couldn’t… not while he was being hunted. It wouldn’t be fair to Jason to have to hide such a huge part of himself and his past.

Not to mention he hadn’t ever come out to Jazz and his friends. Well he had…. But more in the ‘hey I’m dead but not really’ way and less in the ‘so I like guys’ way.

But in spite of those barriers, this tentative friendship with Jason was enough to keep him happy.

Which made the next kick in the teeth from the universe completely expected.

All he had wanted was to walk home in peace. Sure it was almost midnight, in Gotham, but still. He made it most of the way, and was slinking through the Bowery when it happened.

Guys with dark clothes and weapons were suddenly in front of him. He turned only to see more at his back. There had to be five in total? Or was it six? Danny didn’t have time to count.

“Hey guys.” He hedged, muscles tensing as he raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get home. Long walk and all that. If I could just…. Scooch past you?” Danny took a step to do just that and the lead goon swung at him with a baton.

He hopped back slightly, dodging the hit when it came. “Not a chance. Boss needs some…. Help with his latest ideas. You’re coming with us.”

Danny ran through his options in his head. Option 1: get kidnapped. Option 2: get the shit kicked out of him. Option 3: beat the shit out of them and get labeled as a possible bat to be or possible rogue to be. Option 4: go fully ghost and either escape unscathed but wind up more firmly on the GIW’s radar.

Option two or three would wind up happening, because he wasn’t going to put himself at the mercy of the Bat-ass again, and he wasn’t going to offer himself up on a silver platter to the GIW.

The moment one tried to grab him, Danny dodged out of the way, and that seemed to bring the goons on him en masse. They seemed well practiced, but considering it was Gotham, there wasn’t a big surprise there. The next few minutes were a flurry of elbows and knees, punches and kicks, batons and clubs.

Danny would dodge and counter, disarm one and fling their weapon across the street. He would have sore ribs and bruises from his elbows to his knuckles come morning but he was slowly winnowing them down. He had a brief thought about the conservation of ninjutsu, as the fewer goons there were the stronger they seemed to get. The realistic answer was they were less concerned with hurting each other when there were fewer of them, he knew that. But everything was more fun with ninjas.

When there were three left, one threw a punch that connected with his nose. There was a pop and crunch and a hot rush of blood down his face even before the pain set in. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth from the way his head snapped back when he was punched. Another one came at him, and his own years of training caught the guy’s arm, judo throwing them into another look and sending them both careening into a wall. The move was trickier with gravity, but he made it work.

Danny looked up at the last remaining goon. He grinned, teeth too sharp and stained with his own blood, eyes glowing just the faintest green. “Run.”

They did.

Unfortunately for the goon, they ran smack into the chest of one Batman.

#writing #fanfiction #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #red hood #dead on main #batfam #dp x dc crossover

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xoln04f1xo · 3 months ago

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You didn't tell him? - LN04

Angst / Fluff

Pairings: LN04 x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 0.7k

Warnings: Swearing

Divider Credit: @anitalenia

You and Lando has mastered the art of subtlety.

Side glances across the garages. Brushed hands in the back of the team hospitality. Late-night facetimes with pillows over the speaker. The occasional escape from the chaos of the paddock for a few hours that felt like yours and yours alone.

It wasn't that you wanted to keep it a secret. It's just... complicated.

You were Max Verstappen's sister. And Lando? Well, he was Lando Norris, Max's friend and occasional rival, depending on the day.

Max wasn't exactly known for his chill.

You knew that doing this was extremely risky. But you also knew how your brother could be when it came to you - protective, territorial, and stubborn as hell.

So you made a deal with Lando early on.

"When the tie feels right," you had promised, tangled in hotel sheets after the Canadian GP, "I'll tell him."

He had nodded, trust in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But weeks had passed. Then races. Your secret held strong... until it didn't.

It started at Silverstone.

You thought you were careful slipping out of Lando's driver room after the race. But apparently 'careful' didn't include watching for Charles walking by with his PR manager.

The next day... Lando got a text.

Charles: So… you and Verstappen’s sister, huh? Brave. Or stupid. Haven’t decided yet.

Lando almost dropped his phone.

You were waiting for him at the McLaren hospitality when he stormed in, cheeks flushed, phone in hand.

“You told Charles?”

"What? No!" you said, blinking. "Wait... HE KNOWS??"

"He saw you leave. I guess it doesn't take much to do the math and work it out."

"Oh fucking hell."

Lando ran a hand through his hair. "How many more people know y/n? Did we wait too long? Because if Charles knows..."

You bit your lip. "Lando, I'll tell Max. I will. I just... he's been so stressed about the championship lately, and I didn't want to distract him."

Lando gave you a look. “You think he’d rather hear it from Charles in the middle of a media pen?”

Your stomach sank. “…No.”

“Then we need to tell him. Now.”

You spent the next two hours trying to figure out the best way to break it to Max. Lando suggested doing it at dinner - "You know, over steak, like bros do."

You vetoed that instantly.

By the time you worked up the nerve, it was already late. Max had gone to bed. You chickened out.

Again.

The next morning... EVERYTHING exploded

You were getting a coffee in the Red Bull hospitality when Max walked in, tossing his phone onto the table with more force than necessary.

"Why is Charles asking me about Lando?"

You froze.

"What?"

He looked directly at you. "He said, and I quote, 'Hope you gave Lando the talk already.' Care to explain."

Your heart pounded. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

That’s when Lando walked in. Perfect timing, as always. Well Oh Fuck

“Hey, Max,” he said casually... until he saw your face.

Then Max looked between the two of you, and realization hit. Hard.

“…Are you serious?”

“Max...”

“You’re dating Lando? And you didn’t tell me?”

You winced. “I was going to...”

"When? After the wedding? Or when I walked in on you two making out in my driver room?"

Lando raised his hands. "Okay, that was one time..."

“You made out in my driver room?”

You both went dead silent.

Max rubbed his face like he was physically restraining himself from throwing something. “You know, if it had been anyone else, I’d have probably decked them. But it’s Lando. And that’s somehow worse.”

“Worse?!” Lando said, offended.

“You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am your friend! Which is why I’ve been respectful and didn’t just...”

“Didn’t just what, Lando?”

“Okay!” you cut in, stepping between them. “Let’s not do the testosterone Olympics right now. Yes, we should’ve told you. I should’ve told you. That’s on me.”

Max looked at you, exasperated but quiet.

“I care about him,” you said softly. “And he cares about me. This isn’t just a fling.”

There was a pause. A long one.

Finally, Max let out a breath.

“If you’re going to date my sister,” he said to Lando, “you better treat her like she’s the most important thing in your life.”

“I already do,” Lando said seriously.

Max gave him one last glare, then turned back to you.

“…Still mad at you.”

“Noted.”

He walked away with a muttered, “Don’t get caught in my driver room again.”

You turned to Lando, who was already smirking.

“Progress?”

“Big progress,” you grinned. “We only got mildly threatened.”

Click here for more!

#f1 #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #ln04 #lando norris #lando x reader #mv1

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sweetest-girl-in-the-universe · 3 months ago

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This woman holds the highest recorded IQ ever: an astonishing 228. Far surpassing Einstein (160-190), Hawking (160), and Musk (155). Yet, despite her brilliance, she faced ridicule for her response to a seemingly simple problem.

But she saw what no one else could.

Here’s her story:

Marilyn Vos Savant was far from an ordinary child.

By the age of 10, she had:

• Memorized entire books

• Read all 24 volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica

• Achieved the highest recorded IQ of 228

She seemed destined for a life of genius.

But reality took a different turn.

“No one paid much attention to me—mostly because I was a girl. And I accepted that,” Marilyn Vos Savant once said.

She attended a regular public school, left Washington University after two years to help run her parents' business, and seemed destined for an ordinary life.

But in 1985, everything changed.

The Guinness Book of World Records listed her as having the "Highest IQ" ever recorded: 228.

Suddenly, Marilyn was thrust into the spotlight:

• Featured on the covers of New York Magazine and Parade Magazine

• Guest on Late Night with David Letterman

But she couldn’t have anticipated what lay ahead.

The Rise and the Question

Marilyn joined Parade Magazine to write the iconic "Ask Marilyn" column—a dream for someone with a passion for writing.

Yet, this dream turned into a nightmare with a single question in September 1990.

The Monty Hall Problem

Named after Monty Hall, the host of Let’s Make a Deal, the question went like this:

You’re on a game show.

There are 3 doors.

• 1 door hides a car.

• The other 2 hide goats.

You choose a door. The host opens another door, revealing a goat.

Should you switch doors?

Marilyn’s answer: “Yes, you should switch.”

The backlash was overwhelming. She received over 10,000 letters, including nearly 1,000 from PhDs, insisting she was wrong:

• “You are the goat!”

• “You blew it, and you blew it big!”

• “Maybe women look at math problems differently than men.”

But was she wrong?

The Math Behind the Answer

Consider the two possible scenarios:

You pick the car (1/3 chance):

• If you switch, you lose.

You pick a goat (2/3 chance):

• Monty reveals the other goat.

• If you switch, you win.

Switching gives you a 2/3 chance of winning.

Eventually, her answer was proven correct.

Vindication

MIT ran computer simulations confirming her logic.

MythBusters tested it and reached the same conclusion.

Some academics even apologized.

So why did so many fail to see the truth?

The Reasons People Got It Wrong

• They "reset" the scenario instead of recognizing the shifting probabilities.

• The simplicity of 3 doors obscured the underlying math.

• Many assumed each remaining door had a 50% chance.

Marilyn’s View

Marilyn blamed the compulsory schooling system for discouraging independent thinking. She argued that it:

• Creates passive learners

• Stifles exploration

• Hinders critical thinking

A Blessing and a Burden

Marilyn admits that her intellect often feels isolating—there’s no one to turn to when she needs answers.

Still, she sees her intelligence as a gift, not a curse .

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kumkaniudaku · 3 months ago

Text

A Lovely Night

Summary: Terry and Patrice prepare for prom and a new level of their relationship.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 8.8K

Warnings: None

At the tender age of 13, with braces still on her top row of teeth and dreams of marrying a pop star who didn't yet know her name, Patrice came to three conclusions: she was leaving St. Pius after 8th grade, she definitely did want to be a teacher someday, and she was going to have a prom date before she graduated high school.

The third conclusion came as she sat by herself at the 8th-grade formal, watching throngs of white children dance to censored hip-hop music in pairs and large groups while she was but a beautiful wallflower without the pleasure of being asked to attend. If not for her mother preemptively purchasing a dress before Patrice could confirm a dance partner for the evening, she would've stayed home and wallowed in her room. Better to cry in private than to suffer the embarrassment of visible loneliness in public. But, while she fought incoming misty tears threatening to smudge the mascara her mother had so graciously allowed her to use, Patrice swore that things would be different by her senior year. Her luck would turn. Shit, she might even be prom queen.

Years later, when dreams began to catch up to reality, Patrice's 8th-grade formal debacle seemed primed for a remix. One month until prom and still no prospect for a prom date was social status killer number one. She'd worked hard in her senior year to reinvent herself, shed the reputation she'd inadvertently received as Terry's cute but strange shadow friend, and step into a new image as the senior hottie she was destined to be. Becoming Homecoming Queen was step one in the plan. Step two was senior class president. Step three, the hardest of them all, was having a small army of young men vying for a chance to take her to the ball. So far, only the weird junior from AP Calc had stepped up. Everyone else had slowly split into pairs, preparing matching ensembles, limo rentals, and after-party plans, leaving Patrice as a lone wolf destined to repeat past failures.

"Is Napheesa really going to prom with Nate? Like for real?"

Wednesday evenings were set aside for family spaghetti night and Calc homework with Terry via ooVoo video chat. She'd completed her first task of sharing something sweet and sour from her day around the dinner table. After lying her way into something sour that didn't include her prom woes, math with Terry was a welcomed distraction.

Patrice wiped away wayward red sauce from her mouth with her hoodie sleeve before refocusing on Terry's face taking up her laptop screen. "Yeah. He asked her Sunday when they were hanging out. It was kinda cute, really. I think he sang a song or something."

Terry snickered. "Nigga swear he Trey Songz." He mocked Nate and the R&B hearthob's singing voice in one go, sending him and Patrice into laughter. When they finally calmed down, Terry settled into a more serious temperament. "Corey's going with Jasmine. I think they're wearing red."

"I heard. He showed me his tux. You know he's planning to wear red shoes? I told him he was gonna look like a Mississippi pimp, but he don't listen. Is the answer to number six 375?" As quickly as she'd delivered more news, Patrice was already on to the next thing.

Terry smiled at how her face scrunched in confusion. "No. I think you miscalculated somewhere."

"Shit," she whispered. "Don't tell me. Let me figure it out." Terry watched in rapt silence, enamored by Patrice's prominent features, which were made more striking by a neat ponytail showcasing her face as the main attraction.

He waited silently as she typed the expression into her calculator again, battling whether now or in person was a good time to ask his question. If he waited again, he risked chickening out like he did before they parted ways in the senior parking lot to beat the morning tardy bell. He decided to strike while she wasn't looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

"So…uh…you going to prom with anyone?"

She scoffed without looking up. "No. At least not yet. Usher still hasn't responded to my emails. I sent Chris Brown one, too, so maybe he'll come through."

"Good luck with that," he chuckled. Nerves tried to caution him on moving forward. A rational, fully formed frontal lobe would've told him to quit while he was ahead. Teenage folly made him open his mouth to say, "Wanna go with me?"

Patrice paused her work to look up and smile. "You sure? We don't have to. I wouldn't be mad if you asked someone else."

"I'm asking who I want to go with. Unless you givin' me the run around like Phee did Cam."

"No," Patrice cut in, rolling her eyes. "I was just saying!"

Terry smiled. "So we're going to prom together? Me and you? In Carolina blue? You see how I made that happen? Creative writing really might be worth it."

A genuine, hearty laugh came from Patrice's mouth as she threw her head back in reaction to Terry's terrible attempt at an off-the-cuff poem. Or so Terry thought. Really, she'd released years of pent-up fear and expected disappointment. Finally, in the 11th hour, Patrice had a prom date. Sure, it was her best friend she'd been falling more in love with day by day with no indication they'd ever be together, but it was something. Dream realized. Victory.

"Yeah, we're going to prom together," she confirmed after her giggle attack had ended. They stared at each other momentarily, basking in the implications of a night under makeshift stars in the swanky event space across town. Patrice fought to look back at her calculator and announce what had to be the correct answer this time. "It's 215. I multiplied by 23 instead of multiplying 2 and 3. Movin' too fast, I guess."

Terry nodded proudly. "Yeah. You got it. Good job."

As Patrice moved on to a new exam prep question and rolled through the math aloud, the bitter taste of dissatisfaction coated his tongue. The spark he expected from asking the girl he'd been falling deeper into what he knew of love with was nothing more than a quick flicker of excitement – fun but empty. He could do better. Especially if he wanted his true intentions of turning a friendship into something more substantial to stand a chance.

Two mornings later, with a day separating Terry's promposal and the opportunity to back out before their paring was set in stone, Patrice bounced into Francis from a doctor's appointment with a new lease on life and big news to share with Napheesa.

She opened her locker as usual before fourth-period English, looking for her orange class notebook and the assigned textbook. She found them both without issue and nearly pranced off to class with nothing but gossip on her mind until she noticed the index card taped to her locker mirror.

Can you meet me in the library after school? 398.2. I'm sure you know what that means.

The handwriting looked more feminine than Patrice was accustomed to, not matching what she'd seen from Napheesa's notes back and forth in class or from Corey, who'd mastered the forgery dark arts. Still, she tucked the instructions into her everything binder's inside pouch and kept it close until the final bell rang.

Like a spy on a top-secret mission, Patrice dodged conversations from her classmates, threaded her body between students walking to and fro in the main hallway, and quietly ducked into the library on the hunt for the mysterious being requesting her presence.

398.2. It took Patrice an entire class period to decipher what the collection of numbers meant. Too short for a phone number, obviously, she thought to herself. It wasn't a locker number or any other location in the school. Area codes didn't come with decimals. She thought long and hard, willing the answer into existence. Realization smacked her in the head with the full force of Mike Tyson on her way to Terry's locker to grab her sociology notebook. The Dewey Decimal System. More specifically, the section of the library dedicated to folk and fairytales.

Led by an ironclad knowledge of the library's layout and excitement nearly pouring from her pores, Patrice speed-walked past the librarian's station at the front, waved hello to Ms. Wanamaker re-stocking returned library books from seniors trying to clear their outstanding balances before fines set in, and turned the corner onto her intended row.

Snow White piqued her curiosity first. The book appeared to jut out from the rest, so she glanced around for any lookie-loos straggling nearby and pulled it off the shelf. Nothing. Patrice shrugged and put the book back before focusing on other possible answers. Fairy Tales from The Brothers Grimm turned up nothing. Some weird book of Greek myths briefly felt like cracking the code but ultimately fell flat. Patrice had been duped. Led astray. Lied to. She was sure someone was watching through shelves and laughing at how she'd been fooled in a scavenger hunt.

Some hopeful part of her brain directed Patrice's annoyed attention to the book spine conspicuously sticking out amongst its neighbor. She thought about what she might do if she were to flip through another dud and settled on knocking everything down as she yanked the worn edition of Cinderella from its spot. Luckily, a quick flip to its front cover ended her search.

I don't know if I'm your Prince Charming, but I want you to feel like a Cinderella for a night. Will you go with me to the ball? I'll have you home before the clock strikes 12.

She recognized this handwriting, slanted and slender, on another index card. Patrice ran her index finger over the words and gave them another full read, not noticing the tall young man slowly revealing himself at the end of the aisle with a smile on his face and the gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"I should've done this the right way the first time," he spoke, startling Patrice. He lifted his hands in surrender and disarmed her with a smile. "My bad."

Patrice smiled back. "Since when did you learn the decimal system?"

"If I tell you, I can't take you to prom. So, you either gotta answer the question on the card or get the answer to yours. Which one is it?"

"Give me your answer."

Horrified confusion and feigned annoyance flashed across Terry's young, handsome face as he watched Patrice double over in stifled laughter. He chuckled and kissed his teeth as he stepped closer. "Patrice, be serious. Will you go to prom with me? I'm really asking."

Terry's sincerity, both in his voice inflection and in how his brows knitted in anticipation of a response, made Patrice stand up to her full height and smile back at her best friend.

"Of course, TJ. I will absolutely go to prom with you."

A fist pump and smile in the back corner of the school library was as good as any contract signed in black ink with a felt-tipped pen and the appropriate amount of witnesses. It was official official. Terry and Patrice were going to prom together.

News of the expected pairing spread through the halls like wildfire, the truth morphing into something of a fairytale itself as it passed from person to person. Terry had asked Patrice in the library on one knee or in the parking lot, and they kissed, or between classes, and Patrice cried. Actually, Patrice asked Terry! In one version of events, Terry had abruptly reneged on his promposal to Junior cheerleader Cierra and asked Patrice at the last minute. A messy affair in a messy love triangle between the messiest best-friend duo the school had ever known, according to some twisted version of events.

Neither Patrice nor Terry cared to clear up rumors or refute gossip. They were too busy prepping for the best night of their young lives.

Pin cushions and yards of organza covered Patrice's living room floor by Sunday afternoon, turning recently the replaced grey carpet into a sea of light blue as her Aunt Sybil eyeballed measurements and cut the fabric into careful shapes to match the pattern Patrice and Imani had agreed was perfect for a Cinderella-inspired gown. Glitter. She needed glitter tucked into every inch to turn an ordinary dress into one that sparkled in the right light. Rosalyn requested sleeves for modesty, and Patrice agreed, not because she wanted to, but because she knew compromise was her best friend. They settled on sparkling flower appliqué details on the bodice to bring in the event's garden theme, a dainty off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline with draped sleeves to satisfy her beaming mother, and a soft corset to create a ball gown illusion for the flowing, floor-length-skirt. A masterpiece in Patrice's eyes. Especially the hidden thigh-high split she and Imani schemed, plotted, and cried to have included when Rosalyn wasn't listening.

Hair, makeup, nails, and fragrance were all Patrice thought about for days. She sat with Napheesa on Google for hours, looking for the perfect photos to show their beauty service providers when the time came. Every detail, down to the number of tendrils springing from her bun to add a little Princess Tiana into her Disney fantasy, was carefully crafted to fit the vision she'd had of herself since the 8th grade.

Terry hadn't dived head-first off the prom prep cliff, but he was close. Marvin couldn't understand why his son was suddenly so hell-bent on switching to the younger barber and his creative cuts until Diedra pulled him aside for a quick update in the Richmond Girl saga. He couldn't have any old fade. He needed something to stop Patrice in her tracks and garner enough praise to fuel him until he was 21. He'd work every weekend until boot camp to pay off that extra $50 plus tip if it meant his haircut was precise.

A trip to the tailor turned a baggy, hand-me-down wedding tux into something tailored for his brand new, 6'3" frame. Diedra watched with pride in her shining eyes as Terry stood tall and allowed the much smaller shop owner to stand on a step ladder and adjust the jacket's shoulders to Terry's proportions. Take in the waist here, lengthen that hem, get the fit of that cummerbund just right, not too shiny on the shoes or too dark on that blue – he's got a date with the prettiest girl in the world, and he can't get caught lacking. Another $150 withdrawn from his parent's bank account, another step closer to the best night of his short life.

The final puzzle piece was the paramount matter of transportation. Terry's Explorer had been out of commission since October, both from punishment and mechanical issues. He'd improved his behavior, but the starter was still shot, and any indicator that his dad would fix it went away when Terry chose to sign his life away to the United States.

Terry knew the perfect set of wheels to act as a chariot for his princess. The creamy, off-white Cadillac with less than 40,000 miles and a sick interior parked in their garage would take him from best friend to boyfriend in 15 minutes flat. He just needed the permission.

Slinking out of his room, Terry coached himself through a pre-planned script as he jogged down the front porch steps to the tall, greying, light-skinned man diligently trimming healthy green hedges per his wife's instructions.

"Hey, Pop. You need some help?"

Marvin looked up at his son, confusion sheening his blue-green eyes, and shrugged. "If you wanna, I won't stop you." A man of few words and enough brains in his head to know when his boy was about to ask for something.

Taking his father's half-hearted invitation, Terry slid on a pair of working gloves nearby, grabbed the garden hedge sheers lying in a pile of other tools, and began carefully chopping at his mama's award-winning bushes.

They worked silently for several long minutes, two tall, slender Richmond men toiling away in the mid-April breeze until Terry mustered up enough courage to make his request known. "Dad, could I…maybe, um…drive your car for prom? Just that one night?"

"The truck?" Marvin knew the answer but wanted to teach his only son a lesson in the type of directness that made boys into men.

"No. The Cadillac. Our friends are doing the limo thing, but I want to – I'm just not trying to spend the whole night with them. It's easier if I can put the money for the limo towards dinner and really enjoy myself. With Patrice. Together for probably the last time."

Marvin listened to his son's appeal without looking away from his task, mulling over the answer he already had in his head. He'd been in young love before and knew all of the fear and excitement from exploring matters of the heart.

Terry watched his father continue to prune errant branches and leaves from the collection of perfectly green hedges, feeling the pieces of his plan for a magical night blow away in the wind. He'd already begun working through how to get $50 to Corey by the end of the night when Marvin set his shears down and started rifling through his coverall pockets.

He pulled out a crisp $100 bill, allowed his neutral expression to brighten into a small smile, and extended his hand toward Terrence. "Hold that for dinner." Then he reached into another pocket to pull out a ring of keys to toss in Terry's direction. "And hold these for this evenin'. I gotta see you drive her before I let you off by yourself. You fuck up my Caddy, and you won't make it to Parris Island, Tybee Island, or Island Seafood down the street without a cane because I'm gon' need at least three toes for my car."

"I got it, Dad," Terry laughed. "I promise. I'll have it back a little after 12. Treece got a curfew.”

"Mhmm. She got your little nose wide open, too. When y'all gon' stop all that playing and do the real thing?"

Terry hoped he could return to his father triumphant by next Saturday night to proudly proclaim he and Patrice had finally decided to do "the real thing." He spent the whole week counting down the seconds until he could ask for her hand at the dinner table, confess his feelings, earn a big kiss, and walk into the event center as Francis Edwards High School's newest couple.

Patrice considered the possibility of going from best friend to girlfriend all week but kept her fantasies locked inside her mind for fear of interrupting Napheesa's now 15-minute-long, one-sided conversation.

The school week's events had long faded into vapors to make way for the dizzying sights and sounds of salon visits, light lunches to keep bellies flat, and gossip-filled chatter of prom preparation. Patrice and Napheesa sat side by side in massage chairs that made their bodies shake and jerk from an overzealous contraption while their feet soaked in bowls of bubbling lukewarm water. Their mothers had dropped them off for coordinated early morning nail appointments they both hoped would fit into 90 minutes. Napheesa had to be on time for her beautician or else she'd spend an extra hour at the hair salon. Patrice didn't have a fancy chair to sit in for her appointment. Still, Ms. Brenda's daughter liked to get off track in her kitchen studio, and she didn't have the time or patience for anyone to ruin her plans.

Napheesa flipped through color swatches while she multitasked providing updates to her best friend and picking which shade of baby pink would match her dress best. "Corey said his after-party is invite-only, but you know how he gets when he get a crowd. Everybody and they mama gone be over there. You and Terry sure y'all don't wanna ride in the limo with us so you don't have to worry about finding a place to park in his neighborhood? I don't think he'll care about the money at this point."

"Nope. Terry says he wants it to be just us, and I think he already got his dad to let him use the car." Patrice answered, smiling at the thought of being alone with him in a fancy whip.

"Okay, then! You didn't tell me about the Cadillac, now! I'm jealous." Napheesa teased. She noticed her friend's bashful smirk and reached over to playfully push her shoulder. "How you feeling about tonight? You nervous? Excited? What?"

All of that and then some, Patrice thought to herself before answering. "I don't know! I think I'm just ready to see him," she confessed. "We've never been, like, alone alone. What if I say something silly or trip and fall or something? Now the night is ruined, and I gotta come home by 8 o'clock." Patrice sighed and mentally settled on a classic French tip for her nails and feet. "I think it'll be fun. I'm just ready to skip to then."

"The way Terry acts like you're the second coming of Kevin Hart, I'm sure there's nothing silly you could do or say to make him end the night early. He might even fall down with you so you don't feel alone." The young ladies dissolved into laughter at the image of Terry's long, lanky body lowering to the ground just to make Patrice feel better about her blunder. "Just have fun, P. High school is almost over, and if you not with that boy by May, we not talking about his ass when we get on campus."

Patrice feigned offense. "We'll still be friends! I can't talk about him at all?"

"Not a peep. We only talking about fine college niggas after graduation. So, lock it down or get ready for orientatioooon." Napheesa's exaggerated body roll turned Patrice's giggling into a full-on cackle loud enough to eclipse the nearby whirring of an electric file.

Patrice would've laughed herself into a stomach ache if not for the loud ringtone trilling in her purse. Napheesa didn't need to see who was awaiting an answer to their call. The slight smile on her friend's face and starry eyes were answer enough.

"Hey, TJ," Patrice chirped as two nail techs rolled up to start their service.

In his bedroom across town, Terry eyed his face in the bathroom mirror, trying to decide which parts of his facial hair to tell his barber to keep. "What's up, Treece. Wait, are you out already?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to end up late, so me and Phee decided to get our nails done early." Patrice passed greetings between her two best friends before continuing. "What's up with you?"

"I'm on the way to the barbershop in a little bit. I just wanted to tell you I'll be by to pick you up at 5:30 so we can get to dinner on time. The food's gonna suck tonight and I don't want you to be hungry. Think you'll be ready by then?"

Patrice smiled and softened her voice. "Yeah. I'll be ready."

"Um…" Terry cut himself short, smiled at the fleeting thought of seeing his Cinderella float toward him in something spectacular, and then picked up his thought again. "I'm excited to see your dress tonight and hang out. I think it's gonna be a good night."

"Me too. I get to see you in a tie for the first time."

Terry chuckled. "And this stupid waist thing my mama's making me wear. They're gonna follow me to your place, by the way, so be ready to take pictures for forever."

"That's okay. You just make sure you don't come over there looking better than me," Patrice joked. A clean-cut, suited and booted Terry could rival Hollywood's finest leading man. She'd put money on that.

"I could never. You win that battle every time." His compliment settled on Patrice's ears and heart like light snow coating freezing cold lawns in those Hallmark Christmas movies her mom loved so much. Terry smiled at her silence before noting his father's second honk in as many minutes. "See you later, Treece. I gotta get out of here. Love you."

Patrice looked to Napheesa pretending not to listen to every word of their conversation then tried to lower her voice. "Love you, too. See you later."

Another velvety smooth goodbye left a young girl with dreams of locking more than arms with her occasionally brooding, often sweet prince swooning in a building full of strangers and her amused best friend.

"Cute shit, mom and dad." The parents joke had gained traction in the school hallways and grown legs to follow Patrice into the world via a sniggering Naphessa. Patrice looked over at her friend with a sour look and received gut-busting laughter in return. "Damn, y'all sound like my parents."

"Shut up!"

-----

Staring at her daughter in the small vanity mirror tucked in the room's back corner, Rosalyn had never seen a more beautiful girl in all her life. The baby she'd spent hours of grueling labor to usher into the world, her first of three pregnancies and two births, had grown into a young woman preparing to enter the world as a free bird spreading its wings for the time.

Tears gathered in the inner corners of her eyes, threatening to garner a groan and quiet complaints for it was the third time in an hour she'd felt like crying. Leon joked with her the first two times, remarking that Patrice's eventual wedding might send her to the upper room if this was how Rosalyn would act for prom.

Rosalyn twirled a perfectly spiraled tendril from Patrice's bun around her finger after removing the perm rod giving it shape and smiled. "You're such a pretty girl, P. Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't. Alright?"

"Yes ma'am," Patrice answered as she looked back at her mother through the mirror. She took careful stock of her appearance, trying to see what in her reflection her mother saw to say such a thing.

Brown skin, smooth as luxury chocolate and covered in just enough makeup to highlight ancestral high cheekbones and youthful features, complemented shining eyes and mouth full of pearly whites her parents had paid a fortune for in middle school. She was pretty. Beautiful. A stunning amalgamation of her mother, and her mother, and her mother's mother long before she was a twinkle in the universe.

A larger roller removed from the right side of her forehead unfurled a bouncing bang. Rosalyn kept it in place with a careful mist of spritz. "The next time I get to see you like this, you'll be getting a new last name." Patrice looked away bashfully, trying not to imagine wedding bells and a church full of family watching her walk down the aisle to the one she…loved? Loves. She did love him, she thought. She was sure of that much.

Rosalyn slowly slid the other large roller off Patrice's left side, giving it equal attention to the first. "Have fun tonight, alright. I know you'll be okay with Terry, but I'll tell you anyway: be safe. You know you can call whenever you need us. We'll come get you, no questions asked."

"I know. I don't think I'll have to call. Terry knows to have me back by midnight, and we don't get into trouble." Partially true. They didn't get into much trouble. Nothing significant or life-changing. Not yet, anyway.

"I'm not worried about it," Rosalyn said, fixing a small sparkling tiara to the base of Patrice's bun. "So…do you like him? From my vantage point, it seems like you like him, but I could be wrong. What's the scoop?"

Patrice groaned. "Mamaaa!" An immediate desire to cover up the truth made her body hot with embarrassment. But something in her mother's knowing smile compelled her to come clean. "Yeah. I do. I like him a lot."

"Ain't no crime in that. It's okay to like a boy. You know your daddy was a boy I liked at one point. We don't expect you not to like anyone. We just want you to be smart. Don't have no babies yet."

"Maaa!"

Rosalyn chuckled at Patrice's teenaged disgust and prepared to pour more on for fun's sake when two knocks rapped against the bedroom door before Leon poked his head inside. He took a sweeping look over his only daughter and smiled. "Look at my little girl. They should be putting you in the children's books, huh?" Patrice said thanks with a small, timid smile before Leon dropped off pressing news. "The Richmond boy and his folks are comin' in. Lookin' like it's time to make your entrance."

"Thank you, Daddy. Can you tell him I'll be out in a little while?"

Leon accepted his marching orders with a nod and smile, then disappeared to entertain the growing swell of voices filling the living room.

Smiling, Rosalyn slid the cape shielding Patrice's glittering dress from debris off her daughter's chest and draped it over her arm. "Alright, pretty girl, it's your show now." She leaned down to press her cheek to Patrice's in a warm display of affection. "Knock his socks off, you hear? He's here to see you. Give him a show."

Give him a show. While Patrice mentally unraveled what that meant, Terry stood in the living room rocking back and forth on his heels and checking his wristwatch for the time. Zorah and Zanah talked on the couch while Junior snuck glances at the two identically beautiful girls and tried to keep the camcorder upright to ensure he didn't get a slap on the back of the head from his mother. Diedra chattered a mile a minute to her husband and good friend, saying something about pictures and keepsakes that Terry didn't care to hear.

He wanted to see Patrice. Weeks of waiting and dreaming every chance he got to let his mind wander came down to the soft tick, tick, tick of his silver link watch as the minute hand turned 5:29 pm into 5:30 pm—showtime.

Terry heard a door close down the hall and listened for the footsteps moving in his direction before looking up to see Mrs. Rosalyn appear in the hallway's threshold. She smiled at him first then addressed the room. "She'll be out in a few. Just grabbing a few last things."

"Oh my Gooood! I can't wait to see her. I know she'll be beautiful!" Diedra clasped her fingers at her chest as if it were her daughter preparing for a grand reveal. "Girls, come over here. I want you to see!"

Zorah and Zanah moaned and groaned about their conversation being cut short but followed directions anyway to avoid what existed on the other side of disobedience. Junior tracked both girls with his eyes until a nervously rocking Terry cut off his sightline. He looked up at the young man confused.

"Why you shakin' like that, Terry," he asked, genuinely unable to fathom why the boy might be nervous. "You seen Patrice a million times."

But not like this. He'd seen her in sweats and a T-shirt or dressed up for school, but not like this. That fact became abundantly clear as her high heels tapped across the hardwood floor, stepping closer to reveal a modern marvel amongst mere pretenders. Whatever he'd dreamed up in the back of classrooms or while tucked in his bedroom at night paled compared to what stood before him.

Shock. Awe. Amazement. Diedra squealed as if the Queen had walked into the room. His twin sisters whistled and gave praise like only pre-teen girls could. Even Junior had to nod in approval to give credit where credit was due.

Terry could only see Patrice in all the noise. The way her dress shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the glass storm door at the front of the house. How her makeup made her look like a movie star in her greatest role to date. Heels helped her legs stand out from the hint of split peeking back at him. Her hair was beautiful, her nails were beautiful, her lips, shoulders, and eyes were beautiful – Patrice was beautiful.

Terry's hand was out beckoning for her hand before he knew what he was doing. "Wow," he breathed out as he gently pulled her closer. He had to will away the urge to know if the gloss coating her lipstick-covered pout had a flavor to say something coherent. "You look…wow."

"You look like Cinderella! It's so cool!" Zanah said the most consecutive words she had spoken in ages at that moment, stunning Marvin.

"Shoot, you really are something! You even got the mean one to talk!"

All in the room laughed, leaving Terry and Patrice to admire each other openly. Patrice straightened the lapel of Terry's tux jacket, then moved on to his bowtie just to have a reason for stepping close enough to smell his cologne.

He looked down at her, peering through thick lashes, and watched her go to work with a smile. Seeing her nervousness comforted him. They could figure things out together.

Patrice smoothed her hands over his shoulders and finally looked up to smile at Terry. "You look really handsome, TJ. Mean it."

"You too." Terry immediately recognized his tongue-tied mistake and rushed to correct course. "I meant you look pretty. Beautiful! I'm sorry. You ready to get out of here?"

They were more than ready. As they stood in front of the Ellis residence, pinning boutonnieres, sliding corsages on dainty wrists, and posing for more photos than they could count, all Patrice and Terry could think about was sliding into the front seat of their chariot for the evening and rolling off toward the sunset. They got their chance 40-odd grueling minutes later once their parents had done all their doting and laid down the rules.

The first stop was dinner. Somehow, good fortune pushed Terry to pick the one Italian restaurant no other prom attendee in the city thought to cram into with their large parties clad in fluffy gowns and starched suits. That foresight got them a free dinner from a lovely Black couple enjoying a Saturday date night.

His foresight also saved them from the disaster of a dinner at the venue once they'd wrapped up their make-believe date night and joined their friends for the last formal night of their high school lives. Luckily, the thrill of dancing and taking Facebook photos on a handheld digital camera removed the need to eat anything life-sustaining.

Together, they sang in each other's faces like maniacs, moved about the dance floor until their feet hurt, and forgot all the cares and problems of tomorrow. The only break came when the Prom King and Queen were announced after dinner service began.

Terry and Patrice watched Corey accept his title like proud parents, recording him on their cell phones while hollering their support from across the room with the rest of the crew. All the work they'd collectively put into his campaign made his triumph feel like a win for the table, not counting Corey's angry date. She stormed off into the hallway moments after an innocent dance between the royal couple went from an innocent sway to Corey reveling in the attention of a young lady with at least six inches of height over him.

The DJ for the night quickly cut "Slow Jam" by Usher and Monica off at a faculty advisor's request once Corey got a little overzealous and transitioned into Chris Brown's "Winner" to invite all who were willing to sway in each other's arms to the dancefloor.

Patrice sat in her chair, watching couples slowly float to the dancefloor. She smiled at nothing in particular and bopped her head to the familiar song. Terry watched her like a hawk, suspended between being mesmerized and the pressure of knowing his time was quickly running out.

Nerves at dinner convinced him to stay mum about his feelings and enjoy Patrice's fun facts about focaccia instead. When he rested his hand on her fingers in the car, and she didn't pull away, he thought about pulling over for his rehearsed speech, but they were already behind schedule. Part of him wanted to whisper how much he loved her into her ear as she pressed her back to his front for official photos. He let the feeling pass, though.

Now, with the center of the dancefloor free for the taking and the time left before his princess needed to be returned to her home dwindling, he took a deep breath and scooched closer to her.

Baby, you're a winner

Didn't even take you twelve rounds to do it

You got the title now

I'mma tell the whole world

To give it up for my girl

"You wanna dance?" Terry meant for the question to sound more confident and less like a creep whispering into his date's ear. So, he scooched even closer, slid his hand around her waist, and tried again. "I'd really love to dance with you. Please."

Patrice turned in her seat to look back at Terry's eyes pleading for the chance to take her out on the floor and felt goosebumps spring up on her forearms. How could she say no to such a perfectly handsome face? She wouldn't if given the chance. "I'm following your lead."

Hand in hand, Terry and Patrice sauntered out into the center of an empty dancefloor, receiving applause and encouragement from people and friends who had caught wind of something special unfolding before them. They ignored the ruckus as best they could while arranging limbs around necks and waists.

If he were being honest with his mind and body, Terry wanted Patrice closer than what school officials would deem appropriate for a sanctioned event. Having his fingers gently grip her sides while they swayed too slow for the music felt like torture, but he persisted for the sake of the moment. He'd have his chances one day soon.

Patrice hoped Terry couldn't feel the wild thump of her pulse against her wrist as they draped near the nape of his neck. Being so close to him, smelling the residual mint of his gum mixed with whatever heavenly fragrance he'd borrowed from his father was enough to send her body into overdrive. So this was what attraction felt like? This was what all the Ebony and Cosmo articles meant when they discussed the scientific responses of women to men and vice versa. This was infatuation, unshakeable physical longing, and…love? Separately, they were manageable symptoms curable by time away and deep breaths. Together, in the confines of the small square they'd created with sync movements, they were too much and threatening to spill over into utterances she wasn't sure she was ready to release.

Terry dragging his thumbs up and down along Patrice's waist snapped her out of a deluge of competing thoughts, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled. "What you thinkin' about?"

"How bad a dancer I am," she joked, allowing self-deprecation to be her scapegoat for the nerves bubbling inside.

"It's not you," he chuckled. "I wasn't really listening to how fast this song is. I just wanted to get you away from everybody else so we could talk."

Patrice tilted her head in curiosity. "About what?"

A quick scan of the immediate area to confirm there were no eavesdroppers or class gossipers helped Terry gather his thoughts. He had plans for something grand, something unforgettable for the rest of their lives. But when he looked back down at her brown eyes, waiting for his next move, he could only confess, "Patrice, I love you."

"I love you, too, Terrence."

For a split second, through the strobing neon lights creating shadows on their faces and hiding actual reactions, Terry thought he could see a flash of connection in Patrice's eyes – a hint of unspoken confirmation that what he'd shared was received in full without explanation.

Patrice hoped he understood the added "I" or the addition of his entire first name to mean what she was too afraid to vocalize beyond a few simple words.

They had more to say and share to ease the weight on their heavy hearts and minds. Things too sacred for the dancefloor, back at the table with their friends, or in the parking lot as everyone loosened their ties, switched out their shoes, and planned to reconvene for the party of the century. So, they left their I Love You's with Chris Brown and darted into the night for sweet treats separate from the group.

Underneath real stars in a dark blue sky, they rambled on, recapping highlights over two cups of fresh churned Oreo ice cream, trying hard not to leave the evidence behind on his father's interior.

"Corey lucky he around all them people, or Jasmine would've kicked his ass," Patrice laughed. "Oh, and did you see Chris and Diamond leave together. I knew they had something going on!"

Terry chewed through a chunk of Oreo and shrugged. "People could say the same about us. Shit, people do say the same about us."

"Yeah, but…this is different. We're friends. Right?"

"We are right now, but…I don't know if I want to stay that way." Growing serious, Terry placed his half-empty cup of ice cream in the cup holder and turned in the driver's seat to face Patrice. He reached for her hand, and, for the second time that night, she didn't pull away. He took it as his sign to proceed. "I meant what I said back there. I love you. As more than my friend."

Patrice nodded, understanding, and tried to wish away the tears pricking her eyes as she smiled. "I know. I did, too. I…I love you."

That spark, the small burst of magic that had fought for centerstage all day, was back and bursting into fireworks above them, daring someone to make a move. Terry took the bait and brought Patrice's knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss. She watched him close his eyes to savor the feeling of her skin on his mouth, thinking of all the ways she'd explain this to Napheesa when they had a moment to debrief.

"I want to be your boyfriend. You know, if… that's cool with you." He chickened out in the end, but the sentiment remained the same. He wanted more than one-armed hugs and childish giggles with Patrice. He wanted a real relationship. As real as it could get for two people at the precipice of adulthood.

Patrice sucked in a deep breath, unsure of how to force an answer through a throat tightening by the second. All she could mutter was a quiet "TJ…"

"It's okay," he smiled. Breaching the center console between them, he leaned to kiss her cheek. Patrice's eyes fluttered closed and reopened in enough time to catch Terry returning to the driver's side, preparing to start the engine. "Just think about it, okay?"

Patrice thought about dating and a wedding, Terry's fingers threaded between hers, his thumb softly caressing her knuckles, the butterflies in her belly, and what it meant to be in love as he drove them through familiar streets. It was all she could think about. It was all she wanted to think about.

Thoughts of finally letting go battled with the fear of what the end may look like and stuck with Patrice as they walked into Corey's "quiet" house party. Neither of them would ever understand how he could convince his parents to allow teenagers around the county to dance, scream, and be merry in their two-story home, but they didn't complain.

Corey was the first to point out their joint arrival and holdholding, only to be shooed away to spread the news amongst the others.

"Phee is in one of the rooms changing, I think. Or fucking with Nate. I don't know what's going on, bro, I'm not gon' lie to you."

Terry shook his head at his friend's antics, then turned to Patrice. "You want a drink or something? Water?"

"Water would be nice," she answered through a broad smile that Terry mirrored. "Can you grab a straw, too? I don't want to mess up my lip gloss."

"Cool. I'll find you."

Only God could pry their hands apart and send Terry on a mission for cold water and straw in a house where he could barely move without bumping into someone. Patrice watched him disappear around a corner before dashing down a hallway for sound counsel.

She opened doors to coat closets, bathrooms, and bedrooms, which were occasionally filled with people sneaking sips of alcohol, but they came up empty. Panic settled into her bones as she frantically asked for Napheesa until some generous partygoer pointed her toward the family sunroom.

There, she found Napheesa sipping something in a red cup and massaging her aching feet like a mother who'd had a long day at work. When she saw Patrice barrel through the threshold, her face brightened. "P! I was -"

"Terry told me he loved me!"

Napheesa choked on air as her eyes bugged out of her head. "What! Wait, wait, wait. Start from the top!"

"We were dancing, and he said he loved me; I said it back because, like, I do love him, right! We say that all the time! You hear it! But then he said it again while we were eating ice cream and asked me to be his girlfriend! Well, really, he asked to be my boyfriend, which is like, somehow more romantic than the other way around, and Napheesa, I don't know what to do! What do I do?"

Patrice spoke a mile a minute, not stopping for breaths or input until she'd unloaded her full stream of consciousness, like word vomit, all over the floor. Napheesa stared blankly and answered matter-of-factly.

"Just say it back." Plain and without flowery language, she offered sage advice. "Say it back. You just said you love him. So, say it back to him. Why are you making this hard? Do you love him?"

"Of course I do!"

Napheesa laughed in confusion. "So say it back, crazy girl! Go ahead. Do it."

"Okay. Alright," Patrice started. "I love Terry. I love him. I love Terrence Richmond. There. I said it." She listened to the words return to her and tried them out again. "I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry. I love you, Terry!"

"See how easy that was? You really need to see somebody about all that worrying, girl. Want me to ask my mama who she goes to?"

Patrice sighed and chuckled away her nerves. "No. I just-"

When Napheesa's eyes flickered up to the sunroom entrance and stayed, Patrice turned around to find Terry caught like a deer in headlights with two cups and a straw in his hand.

"They didn't have bottles, so I just put some ice water in these cups," he announced. "Am I interrupting girl talk? I can come back."

"Nope. I was actually on my way to find Nate and get some water." Napheese looked back at Patrice, winked her encouragement, and then stood to brush past Terry and back into the action. She pulled one cup out of his hand on her way out. "Thanks for the water. See y'all later?"

One cup down and thoroughly annoyed, Terry stepped into the sunroom and took Napheesa's previous spot opposite Patrice. He extended the cup and straw in her direction. "Here. This one's for you. Don't tell Corey I went through his mama's kitchen drawers."

"Your secret's safe with me."

Terry smiled as Patrice mimed a lock motion over her lips. She never dropped her smile or sipped from her cup, striking him as odd. "You okay?" he laughed. "Why you smiling so hard? Did Napheesa say something about me?"

She shook her head no but answered, "Yes!"

"Yes, what?" Terry questioned, confusion knitting his brows together.

Patrice placed her cup on the ground and grabbed both his hands, threading their fingers together like he did in the car. He gripped them tighter, looking into her eyes like they held all the answers.

"Yes, you can be my boyfriend. Because…I really, really want to be your girlfriend. You know…if that's cool with you."

Shock kept Terry glued to his seat, disconnecting his body from a mind turning somersaults in triumph. Patrice watched in amusement as his eyes darted across her face before he shot up and pulled her along for the ride.

They'd hugged each other plenty of times – to say goodbye and hello, for comfort when the other was feeling down, to be close for no reason at all – but they'd never embraced as more than friends. Patrice had never experienced how good it felt to be fully wrapped in his arm and pressed into a heart beating with love for her. Terry didn't know how having Patrice wrap herself around him would trigger a desire to shower her in never-ending affection.

Terry tried the feeling on for size, pulling away to kiss her cheek and then her forehead. "I love you." If given the chance, he could say it a million more times.

"I love you, too." Easy enough. Practice would make perfect, and Patrice was ready to put in the work.

An unseen force, the same magnetism from their shared Christmas joy in Patrice's bedroom months ago, pulled them closer for another go at a kiss they'd been putting off for far too long.

Eyes blinked closed. Tongues ran across lips to moisten them for an eventual meeting. Hands tried to wander south and close the gap between their hips. All their pining and preparation had come down to one mo-

"Hell yeah, P! Kiss your man!"

"Terry! Terry! Terry!"

"I knew it! They almost kissed on the dancefloor, too!"

Thwarted again. A small crowd of familiar faces had gathered at the threshold, excited to see their favorite pair finally go the distance. Embarrassed, Patrice hid her face inside Terry's suit jacket, and he wrapped his arms around her as an act of protection.

Laughing, he tried to shoo the onlookers away. "Man, get out of here! Y'all ain't ever heard of privacy?"

"Nigga, this my house! Ain't no privacy," Corey laughed. "Go ahead and kiss. This everybody moment! We been waiting forever!"

The small group agreed, but Patrice wasn't interested in the spectacle. She pulled away from Terry, slid her hand in his, and began leading them out of the room. "And you'll wait some more. This ain't a damn zoo! I thought we were here to have fun!"

They were. And they did. Disappointment quickly faded, making room for more singing, dancing, and aching feet into the late hours of the night.

Patrice had long ditched her heels for flats, extending the life of her party animal personal until a quick glance at a perfectly positioned wall clock indicated a quarter til midnight. She roughly pried Terry's drifting hands, trying to pull her backside closer to his front from her waist, and hurried him back to the car in hopes he could make up the distance with some expert driving.

Both of them prayed all patrol units were busy elsewhere as Terry guided them down empty streets and quiet neighborhood rows to return Rosalyn and Leon's precious cargo by midnight. Terry pulled into Patrice's driveway, cutting time dangerously close, opened the passenger door in a flash, and hurried her to the front door like the Secret Service escorting the president.

He watched Patrice shuffle through her purse for the housekey, wondering if now was a good time to return to that kiss. "Patrice, can I -"

"Found it! I really need to put this on a ring." She looked up at Terry and smiled. "I'm sorry, what were you gonna say?"

Terry shook his head free of previous plans and settled for a kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Treece. I'll text you when I'm home."

"Good night, TJ." Patrice looked at the light turn on in the living room through the glass panels on the front door, then back at Terry. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Go ahead. Don't get in trouble."

A blown kiss and one more wave sent Patrice back into her humble abode and Terry to his horse and carriage for the night. As he backed out of the driveway, looking both ways for traffic that would never come, he noticed the heel of forgotten shoes in his back seat.

Terry smiled to himself, recalling the story of the dazzling beauty and her lost slipper. Luckily, he didn't have to scour the city looking for the beautiful belle of the ball that stole his heart. He knew where to his Cinderella.

------

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TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger @nyifly22 @kaylalb @literallegendicon @dee-deelovesyouu @drdimplesj

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge #rebel ridge au

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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 months ago

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IT’S NOT A CULT! (part two | prequel)

(adult) lottie matthews x fem!reader

you were by her side though everything, including starting the wellness center, which is definitely not a cult. read part one here. timeline in this fic might be a little sketchy with exact ages and years because I can’t do math, I’m gay instead.

“This place,” Lottie gestures around the open space, taking a step forward. “It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

“Can we afford it?” You look at the fields, at the forest beyond and over at the dock leading out to the lake at your left side. You try to imagine what the cabins would look like finished and the Sharing Shack Lottie keeps coming up with ideas for. “The construction costs, the wellness plans…”

“We have money,” she nods. “My family has money. Too much of it.”

You stare out at the water. It’s peaceful, the kind of place you could see yourself starting a new life with her in. You can already imagine the sun setting below the trees as you come home to a new wooden cabin, bigger than the others surrounding it. You can imagine sitting next to Lottie on the back porch while she does a tarot spread and ever so often breaks the agreement of confidentiality she has with her members so she can give you the scoop on everyone.

“What do you think?” She asks. Lottie eyes you anxiously. She knows it is a lot to ask for you to uproot your life to start a wellness center with her of all things, that this is not the life you anticipated together after returning from the wilderness. She knows that in her mid-thirties she has already blown away every expectation her family had for her future, that it disappeared the moment the plane went down. She wants to disappear now, to live on her own terms and be prosperous in her own way — out of the mental institutions she’s been in and out of for fifteen years, in your arms.

“It’s beautiful,” you say. You are content to be wherever she needs to stay, especially somewhere so gorgeous. “If you really want to start this wellness center, I think you should.”

She reaches for your hand, a silent show of appreciation, because everywhere she’s been you have been there with her as much as possible. You visited her in the institutions as often as they would let you, and you welcomed her into your home after she got out. You were there to drive her home and reintroduce her to the rest of the world.

“You think we should do this?” Lottie repeats. She seeks reassurance that you’re more than ready to give. “You would live here with me?”

“Of course,” you take her other hand too, standing to face her like you’re at the altar asking for eternity. You would give it to her — she would reciprocate. “If it’s what you want.”

“It is,” Lottie looks out at the woods over your shoulder and then meets your eyes again. You understand — she never wanted to leave the wilderness in the first place. Now she is coming back to it. She is coming home. “As long as you’re with me.”

She pulls you to stand next to her, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and looking out at the lake with you. You loop an arm around her waist, and together you imagine a peaceful future where the pressures of money and social expectations do not exist and instead of failures you are seen as leaders. You dream of waking up next to each other to birdsong and a gentle breeze through the open window, and falling asleep at night under a sky devoid of the city lights that prevent you from seeing the stars.

“You know, if I ever were to propose to you, this would be the perfect spot,” Lottie says quietly.

You pause. You look up at her, trying to decide if she’s serious, but she just keeps looking ahead. “Are you proposing to me?”

“Would you say yes?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

She smiles, relief spreading over her features. She seems to stand a little taller, taking in a deep, steadying breath. “Well, I need you to forget I mentioned it, then.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “No, why? Aren’t we engaged now?”

“Not yet,” she presses a quick kiss to your temple. “We have to wait until this place is built, and I can give you a real proposal right there,” she points to a place in the field, “in front of our house. We have to wait until I can buy you the most beautiful ring and we can get married and I can tell everyone that comes to the wellness center that I’m running it with my wife.”

You can picture it more clearly than ever, a future you can be proud of — for once, it doesn’t seem unrealistic. It gleams before you readily.

taglist: @il0veb0ttomsthem0vie @pnsteblnme @ludasgf @aphrodyk3 @marleymarleymarleymarley @szczurkanalowy @chaithetics @ahauandthesun @webism

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews fluff #adult lottie matthews fluff #adult yellowjackets x reader

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writing-imagines · 1 year ago

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Even Mean Girls Cry // Regina George

Summary: After hooking up with Regina for a year, you finally get to see her vulnerable side after The Plastics reject her at lunch.

Possible warnings: light swearing, bullying, and Regina being Regina

Pairing: Regina George x gender!neutral reader (readers gender literally isn’t mentioned)

A/n: first fic of 2024!! I love Reneé’s Regina so feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts about her

Regina George wasn’t a good person. It was evident ever since the first grade when she told everyone that Peter Howell peed himself after she spilled apple juice on him. So, you did your best to avoid her, and her ever changing minions, every day as you grew up. When you reached high school, Regina’s antics became more frequent and hurtful. By the end of your freshman year, she had at least one embarrassing piece of information on everyone in school, yourself included.

Your streak of successfully avoiding Regina came to an end after winter break during your sophomore year. Ms. Norbury asked you to be Regina’s Intermediate Math tutor since you had the highest grades in your Algebra 2 class. You were hesitant to accept the opportunity considering Regina’s reputation, but you knew tutoring would look great on your college application. You accepted Ms. Norbury’s request and so started your relationship with Regina George.

At first, she sat across from you in the empty cafeteria after school, chomping loudly on her gum and texting a thousand words a minute. Her behavior continued every day that week and by Friday, you’d had enough.

“Regina, stop wasting my time and pay attention.” You finally snapped after she blew an obnoxiously large pink bubble with her gum. Regina’s eyes slowly rose from her phone screen to you.

“What did you just say to me?” Her eyes resting on you instantly made you lose the confidence you just had.

“Oh-I…I meant you should pay attention. I’m trying to teach you, so you don’t fail your next algebra test.” You smiled nervously as Regina’s gaze dug further into you. After a few more moments of intense staring, the blonde let out a scoff.

“You know, you’re actually kind of cute.” Her blue eyes looked you over, this time in a more flirtatious way. You felt like a lamb dangling over a hungry mountain lion.

“Thanks.” You nervously looked away and rubbed the back of your neck in an attempt to get any relief from Regina’s presence.

“So, you agree? You think you’re cute.”

“Umm…I mean, I don’t really know.” Regina’s smile softened and she looked at you as if you were a lost puppy. Without warning, the blonde stood up and made her way to your side of the table. She sat down in the seat beside you and scooted as close as she possibly could, causing your face to warm and your heart to beat faster.

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Y/n?” Regina questioned with her pointer and middle finger dancing on your thigh. Your throat went dry at the mention of the one thing you were embarrassed of. In a school full of hormonal teenagers, you were truly the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet. You were kicking yourself for accidentally telling Karen the sensitive information during a bonfire last year.

“You know the answer, Regina.” You said with a defeated exhale. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Regina, instead, you kept your eyes glued to the table. Suddenly, the two fingers that danced on your thigh were placed gently under your chin, forcing you to look at the blonde beside you. Her eyes were kinder, and her smile was still soft, making you feel less embarrassed.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” You didn’t say anything, instead, you softly smiled and took in Regina’s features. You had never noticed how pretty her eyes were or how full her lips were.

“Do you want to kiss me, Y/n?” Regina’s eyebrows lifted with the question. Without even thinking, you blurted out the answer.

“Yes.” You swore for a moment Regina began to blush as she pushed a few stray hairs away from her face.

“Okay. Close your eyes.”

You did as you were told. For a moment, you were worried it was all just a prank, but when you felt Regina’s lips press against yours, you knew it had to be real. You did your best to reciprocate the kiss, causing Regina to let out a small moan, which caused your stomach to flip about ten times. Suddenly, you felt Regina’s hands find your neck and her perfectly manicured nails rested on the nape of your neck, effectively pulling you in deeper.

The sound of a door slamming shut caused both of you to pull away quickly. You couldn’t help but stare at Regina with a bewildered look, seriously questioning if the kiss happened.

“Wow, you're a pretty good kisser, Nerd.”

“T-Thanks. You’re good too.” You sputtered with the most nervous tone you had ever heard from yourself. The blonde laughed before running her fingers along the edge of her lips to wipe away any smeared lip gloss.

“I know.” The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours before Regina spoke up.

“So, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She quickly stood up and gathered her things as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” You echoed, wiping Regina’s cherry flavored lip gloss off your lips.

“Bye, Nerd.”

“Bye, Regina.”

Almost a full year later and your hookups with Regina were still going strong. In fact, ever since Cady Heron started causing drama between the girls, you had been spending all of eighth period in the back seat of Regina’s Jeep, making out like it was your last moments on earth. Not to mention, secretly hooking up with the queen bee of North Shore gave you a major confidence boost that even Regina noticed. Your relationship had even gone to the next level: texting each other about things that didn’t involve when and where to hookup.

You were sitting in Trigonometry when your phone pinged. You quickly checked it, not wanting to risk Ms. Norbury confiscating it. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see that Regina had texted you.

RG: Sweatpants are the only things that fit me right now

Y/n: So?

RG: So? Jesus Y/n. I can’t wear sweatpants to lunch!

Y/n: Because of the stupid rules YOU made?

RG: They aren’t stupid

Y/n: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The girls will understand

“Y/n, care to share with that class what on your phone is so important that you’re missing out on practice test questions?”

“No. Sorry, Ms. Norbury. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now, as I was saying…” You watched Ms. Norbury turn to write something on the board and quickly sent another text to Regina.

Y/n: Just got called out by Norbury for texting you. Hope you’re happy

You went the rest of class without hearing from Regina. In fact, you went most of the day without hearing from her. It was a little weird, but you knew she had a lot going on and it wasn’t like you needed constant communication with each other.

When lunch came around, it was the same old same old. You sat down with some of your other tutor friends and talked about your day. As Daisy Smith talked about her failed attempt to teach Karen about fractions, you saw Regina walk towards The Plastics. True to her word, she wore gray sweatpants that grabbed your, and several others, attention. You didn’t eye Regina for long, not wanting anyone to accuse you of being a creep or being in love with her. You looked down at your lunch only for the room to suddenly go quiet.

“You can’t sit with us!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the silent room. No one dared to even gasp as Regina fired back.

“Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could tell Regina was talking through gritted teeth.

“What do you think, Cady?” Gretchen asked, her voice once again echoing through the room.

“Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules.” Seeing the sly look on Cady’s face made you want to march over to her and smash a tray of food in her face. You knew that would lead to a suspension, so you made a mental note to figure out some way to get back at Cady that wouldn’t result in a week off school.

“Fine.”

Regina turned around to see every eye in that room on her. You could tell by the look on her face that for once, she hated the attention. Not a single person in that room moved to make room for Regina as she walked down the aisle.

“Daisy, scoot down.” You quickly nudged the redhead to make room for Regina.

“Regina, you can sit with us.” You offered, eyes slightly full of hope that she would accept the offer and somehow make the situation better.

“I’m not sitting with you losers.” She spat out as she stormed past your table.

“What a bitch.” Glenn Coco scoffed. Your blood boiled at Glenn’s comment, but you knew you had to play it cool to avoid any suspicion.

“Guys, I forgot my math book in Ms. Norbury’s. I’m going to grab it really quick.”

You quickly got up from the table, leaving your tray behind, and stormed off to find Regina. You searched her usual hangout spots, the maintenance room and the girl’s locker room in the gym. When you didn’t find her in either place, you made your way to the only other place she could be, the parking lot.

Sure enough, as you approached her Jeep, you saw Regina sitting in the passenger seat. Even from far away, you could tell she was crying. Cautiously, you approached the car and tapped on her window. The blonde’s head instantly shot up, revealing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks. You had never seen Regina cry before, and the sight actually shocked you to your core. Without saying a word, you walked over to the driver’s side and climbed in.

“What are you doing?” Regina questioned through sniffles as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot.

“I’m taking you home.” Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you noticed a picture of Regina, Karen, and Gretchen resting on her dashboard as you drove out of the parking lot.

“I don’t need you to take me home.” Regina tried to use her usual venomous tone, but it came out shaky and pitiful.

“I don’t care if you need me to. I want to take you home. That was fucking ridiculous.”

After a few minutes of silence, you looked over to see tears still rolling down Regina’s face. Based on how her bottom lip was quivering, you knew Regina really needed to cry. You carefully reached your right hand over to Regina and grabbed her hand.

“It’s okay to cry. They tried to humiliate you in front of the whole school. You don’t have to hide it from me.” You squeezed Regina’s hand, which caused her to quickly pull her hand away.

“I am not crying because of those bitches. I’m crying because all I can wear is sweatpants and my mascara is ruined.” That time Regina was able to spit out her usual venom. While her tone would intimidate most people, it let you know Regina was going to be okay.

“Those are still valid reasons to cry.” You said matter-of-factly. You felt Regina’s eyes land on you again, causing you to glance over at her.

“Why are you so nice to me all the time?”

“Because I’m a nice person.” You shrugged, not wanting to give away your true feelings for Regina.

“I think it’s because you like me.”

“And what if I did?” You replied without missing a beat. Once again, you were kicking yourself for not thinking before you spoke.

“I’d have to give you a makeover. I can’t date anyone who dresses like that.”

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

“Nothing, if you’re going for a grocery store clerk.” You scoffed and acted offended by Regina’s words, which made the blonde crack a smile.

“I do not dress like a grocery store clerk.”

You both chuckled as you pulled up to the George's home. You instantly took note that Mrs. George’s car was missing from the driveway.

“Do you want to come in? My mom isn’t home.” Regina looked at you with hopeful eyes. Not wanting to leave Regina alone after a traumatic event, you decided that it would be a good idea for you to stick around for a little while longer.

“Yeah, I’ll come in for a little bit.”

You turned off the car and let Regina take the lead into her home. The second the front door closed behind you, Regina took your hand and led you up to her room.

“Shoes off and get on the bed.” The blonde commanded.

“Regina, I don’t think we should-”

“Relax, Nerd. I just want you to hold me and tell me I’m pretty.”

You quickly kicked your shoes off and lied down on the right side of the bed. Once you were comfortable, Regina joined you. Within seconds, her head found a comfortable spot on your chest, resting between your jaw and collarbone. Her hand found its way down to your stomach and balled the fabric of your shirt into her hand. After Regina was comfortable, you snaked your arm around her and held her close. You couldn’t help but look down at the blonde with a smile. When she wasn’t ruining people’s lives, Regina was actually kind of sweet.

“Hey, Regina?”

“What, Nerd?”

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, I know.” You could feel Regina’s smirk against your neck, which only made you fall a little harder for her.

You laid there, holding the blonde like your life depended on it. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder about finally telling Regina how you felt about her. It seemed like a good idea, especially after a hard day, but the thought of losing her stopped you. So, you just let Regina George, the meanest girl in North Shore, sleep on your chest while you held her close.

#Regina George #Regina George x reader #Regina George imagine #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #Renee Rapp #first fic of 2024 #let’s goooo

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