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#and then someone will be like ‘i should watch that too’
thinkinonsense · 22 hours
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DESIRE ୨୧
logan howlett x mutant!reader
cw: flirty, slightly nsfw
a/n: this was heavily inspired by that scene in the first suicide squad movie where they introduce harley quinn.
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"we should all split up before someone finds us." storm tells her team mates as the break into the building.
inside were mutants of all kinds, being hidden and tested on. it was charles plan for the team to get as many as possible and bring them back to the mansion before they can cause any damage.
on the surface, it seemed simple enough. they have done this mission a million times. little did they know that an unspeakable danger awaited them in the basement of the old building.
everyone split up, storm went to the west wing while scott and jean went to the east. logan found his way downstairs, assuming that maybe he could find whoever was running the show here.
beyond the high security metal doors, he can hear the faint sound of an old record playing. the closer he got, the clearer it sounded. nancy sinatra? maybe? logan wasn't quite sure but he figured it was a trap so, he prepared himself for whatever was on the other side.
Way down along the stream
How sweet it will seem
Once more just to dream
In the moonlight
My honey, I know (I know) with the dawn
That you will be gone
But tonight
You belong to me
revealed on the other side is a large metal cage fit for a wild animal. inside was a girl swinging upside down from a line of tied material with her body in an obscene position.
"i've told you before, david..." your voice was angelic to logan's ears. light as a feather. "i don't like to be disturbed after 7."
"i'm not david, princess." logan said, stepping out of the shadows right as your eyes open.
logan's eyes scan over your scandalous appearance. tiny dirty white shorts and matching tight tank top, apparently whoever runs this prison doesn't allow bras either. you twirl down from near the top of the cage until your face to face with the man on the other side.
"who are you, then?" you ask, looking up at him as you hold onto the bars.
"i'm here to get you out of this cage." he says, unleashing his claws, ready to cut through the bars.
"hold it, baby." you purr, reaching out to touch his sharp claws. "don't you wanna play with me?"
"no, we need to leave."
"why should i leave with you? how do i know that you won't put me in another cage?"
even with a slightly dirty face, rings of lavender circles under your eyes, and dried blood on the corner of your bottom lip, logan still thought you were gorgeous. slightly intimidated by your fearlessness to reach out and touch his claws. he imagines that you had seen worse than this.
"tryin' to save you" he grunts.
"i wouldn't picture you as the prince charming type." you giggle, running your fingers up his hairy, veiny, strong arm over the black latex suit.
"i'm not."
logan glares down at you in a way that makes you want to jump his bones. what? it gets lonely being trapped in a cage all by yourself. plus it's not everyday that a handsome stranger wants to help you escape.
suddenly, you grab logan's palm, circling it as your eyes roll back to a dark green shade.
"tell me what you want to do with me." you demand.
this was the moment logan understood why you were held in a cage down in the basement. suddenly, logan's mind feels as if it's being bended and twisting, forcing every ounce of truth out of him.
"we are here to take the mutants to charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters." his voice sounded robotic under your spell.
"charles xavier?"
in a rush of excitement, you release logan from your threshold. he wants to bark at you for invading his mind but seeing you smile made him reconsider.
"so, you've heard of him?" logan raises a brow at you, watching as you hold his hand sweetly.
"of course i have." you answer tracing shapes on the back of his palm. "i've seen him in my visions. been waitin' on him."
visions? what kind of mutant are you? logan asked himself as you spoke.
"too bad i didn't see you in them, though." you sigh, batting your long lashes at him. "wish i had. could've bought us some time to... well, you know."
the teasing flirty tone made logan's cock stir under the tight latex. he felt this overwhelming desire for you fill his head.
"hm... we should focus on getting you out of here first, huh, princess?" he tilts his head to the side, amused by you. "step back."
you obey, walking backwards near your rope. in the blink of an eye, logan cuts through the bars and bends them out enough for him to help you get out. loud flashing sirens go off, slightly startling the two of you.
"guards." you warn him. "they're coming."
logan turns around, claws bare to anyone coming towards the two of you. he steps in front of you, ready to protect like a guard dog. it was quite cute of him, you think. the moment the guards burst in, logan starts attacking, stabbing them ruthlessly.
you allow him to take out a few one by one but as more poured in, you stepped in. your eyes roll back into the same shade of green as a hand raises, some of them fall to their hand and knees, shifting into dogs others were being strangled until they looked blue in the face.
logan couldn't believe it. the only mutant that he thought could rivaled your powers was jean. the room fell quiet except for the record echoing as it replayed.
"it's my favorite song, you know?" you grin as if nothing happened.
"old soul, huh?" logan asked with an eyebrow raised.
"witches are timeless, sugar." you wink, extending your hand for him to take.
logan hesitates but knows he has to get the two of you out of here alive. one look into your starry eyes and he's a goner. logan takes your hand and leads you to the jet, knowing he will never hear the end of it from his teammates.
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idiotgojo · 3 days
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— ★ ! geto headcanons
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★ ! late night convenience store beer run with suguru geto your fwb dare I say bf who's also a soft!boy and genius who helps you when you're drowning with math assignments
★ ! he's not the type to shy away from holding hands even though nothing's official about your relationship
★ ! he buys you cute tiny hair clips he thinks you'll like when he's out with his friends. smiling through the day because he catches a glimpse of you wearing the butterfly claw clip he bought apparently with not much thought
★ ! you guys make eachother mixtapes and listen to them on long drives in the middle of the night
★ ! you've got an attitude when you're annoyed at something or him? he'll match that right back until you're calm enough to listen to him. hate when he argues with straight facts and valid logic while you're an emotional mess.
"you never listen!"
"you sure about that?" he's leaning against the door frame waiting for you to give into him, patient, cool and calm
he's unbelievable. "why are you so calm!? say something else"
"maybe when you're done throwing a tantrum?" enveloping you in his big strong arms
★ ! all this swagger but he's still too scared to ask you out because what if you reject him and break his heart. so you're the one asking him out while you're in the middle of the city street, the night still young
"let's go out?" you ask
"we are out" he looks at you dumbfounded
"no like, go out go out. like a date?" you test the waters
"oh, OH— yeah uhmm yeah i mean of course I'm —" he's scratching his neck, avoiding your eyes, because if he looks at you he might combust and lose all his mojo
" i did want to ask before, but yu'kno uh yeah if you didn't want this and uh we should… like right now? we could if you want to" he's stuttering, flustered by the unexpected question
★ ! watching him like this was so cute. someone who usually wore the casual confidence now a blushing mess all because of you
★ ! geto is so lovely runner x like we used to instrumentals coded here's the link !
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simpxxstan · 2 days
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svt + nerdy y/n!!
a/n: this is absolutely self-indulgent. i'm sorry if i'm writing slower than usual, i'm trying to get back on track!
sfw content. gender neutral reader and established relationship.
very mildly suggestive (pg13 audience only!). nerd here refers to anyone with academic interests or a general high level of interest in uncommon/niche topics. i've tried to make the concept of nerd as inclusive as possible.
seungcheol
not a nerd himself but will encourage you 100% to be a nerd- buys you new pair of glasses when your eyesight worsens, new documentary CDs and even membership of a hundred foreign journals.
defo has a sapiosexuality kink- you can guess how attracted he is to your intelligence. but he's the smarter one on the streets, so he'll take care of you in every way possible while you stay in your little geeky bubble.
it's always baby let me recharge your phone bill for you; baby please eat your meals on time; baby you can't stop drinking water because of exam stress; baby if you're pulling an all-nighter, call me over, i don't want you to stay up all night alone.
jeonghan
loving jeonghan involves so much cuddling and lazy time when you both just lie under the blankets, his head is on your stomach and your fingers in his hair. it's at these moments that he encourages you to read out for him and he hums along whenever you pause to check if he's fallen asleep.
but jeonghan draws the line sometimes. he is supportive- but only when you're not trading off your time with him for the sake of peering into books.
you can sit with me and solve bivariate normal distributions or whatever you have to do, he whines into your ear. but you keep tickling me and i mess up the calculations! he laughs at this, i can't help it if you're just so ticklish, baby.
joshua
three years ago, joshua would've laughed if someone told him he would be more interested in the latest discoveries of astrophysics than in who's winning the la liga matches. but here he is- successfully converted into a nerd entirely because of your influence.
joshua was ridiculously easy to convert. all it had taken was the shiny, lovesick look in your eyes when you'd ask him if he wanted to watch a documentary on alternate universe theories with you, and he'd said yes in a heartbeat. and then it had just been a spiral into the metaphorical black hole. and he does NOT regret it, as long as he gets to spend time with you.
josh is this getting too boring? you'd quietly ask after an hour of the documentary, guilty for being too absorbed in it to even look at your boyfriend and see how he's faring. but joshua is melting at your concern, so even if it was a little bit boring, he'll reassure you sweetly, not at all baby! this is so new and interesting!!
jun
yes he may be from china, but clearly you know more about his own roots than he does! whenever you're watching news, jun loves it when you fill him up on some quirky background info that he didn't know about, but adds so much value to the context of the news.
in awe of your academic capabilities and keeps bragging about you to everyone. feels so proud when he can contribute to something you're passionate about too. he CANNOT fathom why someone as nerdy and intellectual as you should want to be with him.
junie, you're so smart! you praise him after he reports a profit he's making on a stocks investment. he shyly giggles, not like you, baby. you shake your head, i may be book smart. but you're street-smart!
soonyoung
hyper and calm partners!!!! he used to get annoyed with how you would pore into your books all day and how focused you were on your studies, but now he sees the charm in it all. it makes you happy, and in turn, he gets to wrap himself around you and be as clingy as he likes.
he really tries to follow with your nerdiness, his enthusiasm is there he swears! it's just not his fault that his attention span is so low and he ends up staring at your lips more than actually listening to you.
baby are you even listening? you ask, pouting. it drive him even more insane and he ends up giving in to his instincts and kissing you. yes baby! i heard everything!
wonwoo
WILL BE GEEKY WITH YOU! i imagine the two of you sitting next to each other at a table, him focused on his games and you're focused on your studies, your feet in his lap, and you're both sharing the same cup of coffee.
he loves collecting pretty little diaries for you, because he knows you write little poems and trivia in those diaries. whenever he's out on tour, he's bringing a locally-made diary for you, and if possible, he customises it with your name imprinted on it too.
wonwoo, there's a new adaptation of pygmalion getting shown in the theatre! do you want to go watch? i want to take notes from this adaptation and write about it on my blog... you need not even explain so much, wonwoo bought the tickets already when you began to talk about it.
jihoon
feels so giddy when he comes home from work and the first thing you do (in between his kiss attacks) is tell him a new fact you learnt today in whatever is your latest obsession.
jihoon loves his personal space, so when he's found you who's equally fond of your personal space and interests, it's literally a match made in heaven. they say it'll put distance between the two of you, but it really does quite the opposite!
jihoonie, can you help me learn this table? maybe ask me randomly and i'll try to answer. jihoon wants to tell the table to self-destruct from the entire world because you're near to tears trying to mug it up. but he doesn't. instead he says, love, how about i make a song for you which simplifies this? like a mnemonic but nicer.
seokmin
man was too desperate to get out of school to understand why you choose to be a nerd. but it's hella cute, so he doesn't need to understand. he's obsessed with your quirky habits- the way you bite your lips when you're finding a topic difficult, the way your glasses slip down your nose and you irritatedly push it up again, the way you crave the hot chocolate he makes when you're under exam stress.
admires your smartness so much! WILL brag about it to everyone he meets. WILL bring up the fact you told him yesterday, in today's conversation with his members just to show off your smartness.
posts stories about you being so cute while working hard for your exams but it's just you with oiled hair, acne breaking out like hellfire, and cramming notes at breakneck speed (you don't talk to him for an hour after this, but he doesn't get why you're so embarrassed, he only sees cuteness.)
mingyu
another one who WILL be nerdy with you. mingyu's always been a curious boy- even as a child, he would be drawn into new ideas easily. nothing is different now, and mingyu sits with you often when you're studying, his hands often wandering to your shoulders to massage them, and bringing you a regular supply of ramen and snacks.
you have a habit of repeating to yourself what you read, so mingyu steps in and asks you to talk to him and explain the topics to him as if you're teaching him. safe to say, he gets VERY turned on after such mock 'teaching' lessons and eventually loses focus on what you're saying.
gyu do you remember that paper i wrote last month? yeah, it got selected for a journal. you say it so nonchalantly that any other person would think you're showing off. but mingyu knows how much it means to you, and you're only downplaying it because you think mingyu won't think it to be a big deal, as most academic snobs tend to do. but lucky for you, mingyu knows exactly how precious an achievement it is to you, so he shows his appreciation to you instead of merely saying it (by showering you with kisses that make you tingle all over).
minghao
OH oh. will listen to your rants with the sweetest subtle smile on his face. will buy encyclopedias and reference books for your mini library. will take you to speaker sessions, workshops and other such informative events across the city, even places you've no idea about.
the most ardent supporter you could have asked for, he is in awe of your mental capabilities and your intelligence. you both have a lot of quality time where you're just sitting together and doing your things, but minghao values it like no other activity in the world.
hao? there's a new parcel at the door. you call him when a delivery arrives and he's at work. open it. he may not be around to see your reaction, but he can sure imagine the grin that's bursting out on your face when you squeal his name into the phone on seeing the hardcover special edition version of your favourite collection of essays.
seungkwan
lots of wide-eyed wondering at why you would want to stay rooted at a spot and read books over playing badminton with him. he wants to complain that you've chosen your academics over him, but that'd be a lie, so he can only half-heartedly whine about it.
comes around to your point of view as soon as you start showing him documentaries (on animals living in the Himalayas, as per your latest obsession). it begins with him finding the animals cute, to eventually finding you cute when you animatedly talk about them. and once he's totally converted, it's fairly easy for you to convince him to help you with exams.
expect eye rolls, smug smiles and hair being brushed back nonchalantly when the questions he had asked last night from your texts actually matched with the ones asked in the exam. i told you, baby, he whispers in your ear. now i want my reward, you've been drowned in books for way too long and not paying any attention to your boyfriend.
vernon
it was a surprise to him as well when he realised he's got a massive sapiosexuality kink. as someone who's run as far away from the education system as he could, he doesn't even know why he finds it so attractive when you're being nerdy. but, well, he does.
he loves hearing you talk about whatever it is that you're learning lately, and sometimes something or the other catches his attention. and then, you know he'll dive right deep into it to know all about it, until his curiosity is satisfied.
nonie, what's the video you sent me? you ask him when you return home from uni. i wondered if you've watched this one. it explains the theories of why the harappan civilization disappeared so well. you can only smile at his enthusiasm, i bet you've been looking at conspiracy theories again, nonie. the guilty grin on his face says it all.
chan
chan listens so well, but you can't really blame him if he doesn't retain the information. he's elated simply to have you wrapped in his arms as you talk about what happened in your classes today, and his nose in the crook of your neck so he can smell your lovely scent. intermittently nods his head (just wants to rub his nose on the soft skin of your neck) and hums in agreement of what you just said (suppressing moans when he can feel your heartbeat quicken when he presses kisses to your neck too).
it doesn't matter what your new niche is, but he's indulging it. he admires your ability to stay focused in a field as demanding as academia, and he's all for you to go ahead with your interests and education as long as you want to learn.
you wake up to post-its on your forehead every day when chan has had to leave early for work: get out of the house and get fresh air. shampoo hair today, interview tomorrow. practice the introduction speech again. drink water and take vitamins. STOP DRINKING COFFEE. and you giggle at each of them, because they're all things you've tried to remember for yourself and forgotten, so chan reminds you like this, but his cute handwriting and the little XOXOXOs he's drawn all over make your heart melt.
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solxamber · 2 days
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Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader
You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.
crossposted from my ao3!
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It’s far too late for a sane person to be awake, let alone breaking into an aristocratic manor, but here you are, perched atop a wrought iron fence. You inhale deeply, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the wild thudding of your heart. Sure, you’ve trespassed on fancy estates before—who hasn’t?—but this time, you’re aiming high. Really high.
Tonight, you’re going to kidnap the young master.
It sounded less ridiculous in your head, but the village’s plight had pushed you this far. Unfair taxes, people going hungry, all thanks to the greed of the lord’s family holed up in their luxurious estate. Someone needed to stand up for the people. That someone just happened to be you.
You’d never kidnapped anyone before, but how hard could it be? Grab the rich guy, ask for a ransom—specifically, less ridiculous taxes—and stroll away like a hero. Easy.
The manor looms in front of you, all dark windows and dramatic architecture. It's almost too easy to slip past the guards. You start to wonder if they’re just really bad at their jobs or if this is some elaborate setup. Still, you can’t help but smirk. You’re so good at this, it’s almost criminal.
Well, it is criminal. But you know, details.
Inside, the place is eerily quiet. Every shadow seems to be watching you as you slink through the halls, making your way toward the young master’s room. You’ve heard the rumors—aloof, cold, basically allergic to feelings. Intimidating him into compliance? Piece of cake.
After a few minutes of creeping around like a ninja, you find a room with the door slightly ajar. A faint light flickers inside. Jackpot. You steady your breath, grip your very intimidating (okay, slightly makeshift) weapon, and push the door open.
Sitting at a desk, seemingly unfazed by your dramatic entrance, is the young master.
“Ah,” he says, turning slowly to look at you. There’s a glimmer of... curiosity? in his eyes. “A visitor. How... unexpected.”
You blink. This is not going to plan. Where’s the panic? The yelling for help? The appropriate reaction to being ambushed at night?
Determined to salvage the situation, you wave your weapon and try your best "intimidating kidnapper" voice. “You’re coming with me! I’m here to kidnap you, and if you want to see your precious manor again, you’ll lower the village taxes!”
There’s a beat of silence.
The young master raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidnapping me? How... amusing.”
Amusing? You falter. “This isn’t a joke,” you insist, shaking your weapon for emphasis. “I’m serious! Ransom, taxes, starving villagers—ringing any bells?”
Instead of, say, panicking or fleeing, the young master stands up from his chair, all calm and composed, like this is a perfectly normal Tuesday night activity. “Very well. I suppose I should humor you.”
You blink again, utterly at a loss. “Wait... you’re just agreeing to this?”
“Of course.” He tilts his head, giving you a strange, intrigued look. “I’ve never been kidnapped before. It sounds rather... interesting.”
And just like that, he strolls toward the door as if this is his idea. You scramble to follow, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.
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As you lead him through the estate, you’re still grappling with the bizarre reality of the situation. Here you are, attempting to kidnap someone, and the guy is practically rolling out a red carpet for you.
“You know,” you mutter, glancing over at him, “most people don’t just let themselves be kidnapped. It’s not really how this works.”
He turns to you with a serene smile that’s entirely too pleasant for a hostage. “Why should I resist? You don’t seem the type to harm me.”
You narrow your eyes. Is he flirting? Intentionally or not, this guy’s nerve is off the charts.
“I didn’t catch your name,” he says suddenly, voice smooth as silk.
“I’m not giving my name to my hostage,” you snap back. This is Kidnapping 101.
“Ah, of course.” He nods, clearly amused. “Then I’ll introduce myself instead. I am Malleus Draconia.”
Your stomach drops to the floor. Malleus Draconia. THE Malleus Draconia. The name practically vibrates with power and danger, and you suddenly realize you’ve made a colossal mistake. You haven’t kidnapped the young master of the manor—you’ve kidnapped the prince of the fae.
“Oh no,” you mutter, horror creeping into your voice. “Oh no, oh no, this is bad. This is really bad.”
Malleus watches you with mild amusement, an eyebrow raised. “Why the sudden distress?”
You whirl on him. “You’re Malleus Draconia! I— I wasn’t supposed to kidnap you! This is a mistake—like, a huge mistake. I’ll just let you go and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”
But instead of looking concerned, Malleus just smiles wider, a wicked little gleam in his eyes. “Let me go? But I’m having so much fun.”
You gape at him. “You... want to stay kidnapped?”
“Indeed.” He seems completely unbothered by the sheer absurdity of the situation. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had such an engaging evening.”
Well. This is officially the weirdest night of your life.
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The night only gets stranger when you run into his retainers.
“Young Master!” a voice bellows, and you look up to see a tall, green-haired fae charging toward you, fury in his eyes. “What is going on here?!”
Before you can even explain, Malleus casually steps in. “Ah, Sebek. Allow me to introduce my kidnapper.”
Sebek freezes mid-charge, eyes wide. “Y-Your... kidnapper?!”
Malleus nods with an unnervingly calm smile. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Sebek’s brain seems to short-circuit, and he storms off, shouting something about telling Lilia and Silver. You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”
Malleus, of course, chuckles softly beside you. “On the contrary. I think it’s rather amusing.”
Of course he does.
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By the time Lilia and Silver arrive, you’ve already resigned yourself to your fate. At least they’ll make your execution quick, right?
But Lilia just grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well, well. This is certainly the most interesting kidnapping I’ve seen in centuries.”
Silver, on the other hand, just raises a brow. “He seems to be enjoying himself.”
Malleus smiles at you, as though being abducted by a random stranger is the highlight of his week. “Quite.”
You’re about to protest when Malleus turns to his retainers with a firm nod. “I’d like to speak to my kidnapper alone.”
Sebek looks like he’s going to explode, but Malleus’s sharp glance shuts him up. Lilia throws you a wink as they all leave, and just like that, you’re alone with the fae prince. Again.
Malleus steps closer, his calm mask slipping just a little. “You know, I’ve grown quite fond of this little adventure.”
You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”
He tilts his head, lips quirking into a smile. “I propose a deal. I’ll help your village with the taxes. In return, you’ll... continue kidnapping me.”
Your jaw drops. “Wait... you want me to keep kidnapping you?”
“Yes. It’s been rather fun.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “What do you say?”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is the weirdest deal I’ve ever made.”
Malleus grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Wonderful. Now, shall we shake on it?”
And so, your bizarre, extremely non-traditional kidnapping arrangement begins.
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Every few days, it’s the same: you sneak into his manor (more like casually walk in, since he always leaves the window open for you now), and the two of you embark on whatever adventure catches your whimsy. Sometimes it’s sneaking into human markets where Malleus marvels at the mundane—like street food or ridiculous trinkets. Other times, you explore abandoned castles with winding, forgotten hallways that echo with untold stories.
It’s almost normal now, the way he expects you to “abduct” him with little more than a raised eyebrow and a soft chuckle as you half-heartedly demand his presence for another outing. The most feared prince of the fae is now, apparently, your willing partner in crime.
The first time you take him to a local fair, though, you realize just how out of his element he truly is. Malleus spends a good twenty minutes, completely entranced, watching a cotton candy machine.
“Is it... magic?” he asks, his (very pretty) eyes locked onto the swirling pink clouds as the vendor twirls the sugary fluff onto a stick.
You can’t help but laugh, the sound coming out far more amused than you intended. “Nope. Just sugar spun into fluff. You’ve really never seen this before?”
Malleus watches the process with a reverence usually reserved for ancient relics, finally accepting the cotton candy as if it’s some kind of delicate treasure. He takes a cautious bite, his expression lighting up like a child’s.
“Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “It dissolves on the tongue.”
You bite back another laugh at the sight of this powerful fae prince, someone who commands fear from almost everyone around him, completely taken by spun sugar. “Glad you like it.”
After that, it’s a night of him eagerly trying every strange, sticky fair food he can find, utterly fascinated by things as simple as corn dogs and funnel cake. You can't decide if it’s endearing or a little embarrassing, but either way, you’re having more fun than you’ve had in a long time.
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As the weeks pass, the more you look forward to your little "kidnapping" escapades, and that in itself is a whole other problem. Malleus’s wide-eyed curiosity about the human world is... strangely adorable, and while he’s still every bit the regal fae prince, there’s something endearing about the way he asks you questions about everyday things with such genuine interest. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, his quiet intelligence making for great conversation—when he’s not completely sidetracked by things like human street food.
The more time you spend with him, the harder it becomes to ignore the truth creeping up on you. You’re starting to fall for him. It’s ridiculous, and yet... here you are.
Of course, not everything goes smoothly.
“Human!” Sebek shouts dramatically one afternoon as you and Malleus return from yet another outing. “How dare you abduct the Young Master again!”
You roll your eyes, half-expecting this by now. “Sebek, I’ve told you before. He wants me to kidnap him.”
Sebek bristles, sputtering indignantly, his green hair practically standing on end. “Lies! The Young Master would never allow—”
“Sebek,” Malleus interrupts, his tone calm, but with that unmistakable edge that immediately silences his retainer. “I went willingly. Again.”
Sebek’s jaw drops, looking like someone just told him the sky isn’t blue. “But... Young Master...”
Malleus gives him a slow, deliberate look, his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile. “You should try it sometime. You may find it... enlightening. Although,” he turns to you, his voice soft but with an unmistakable possessiveness, “you’ll have to find another human. This one is already mine.”
Your breath hitches as Malleus’s words hang in the air, and you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat. Sebek, meanwhile, looks utterly scandalized, his eyes wide as saucers. Lilia, who has been watching the whole thing with far too much amusement, claps Sebek on the back.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Lilia chuckles. “Let them have their fun.”
Sebek looks like he's about to explode, but instead storms off, muttering something about propriety, while Silver smirks quietly from the sidelines.
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One night, after another "kidnapping," you find yourself sitting beside Malleus on a hill overlooking the village, the faint glow of the fair still visible in the distance. The stars hang bright overhead, and there’s a soft stillness between you as the cool air nips at your skin.
Malleus’s voice breaks the quiet, low and thoughtful. “You’ve given me more than I expected.”
You glance at him, curious. “What do you mean?”
He turns to you, his dark eyes holding a depth you hadn’t seen before. “Companionship. I hadn’t realized how much I longed for it until... until you.”
Your heart does something funny at his words, the raw sincerity of them tugging at something deep inside you. Without thinking, you reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, your fingertips grazing his skin. The air between you seems to still.
“I’ve grown... quite fond of you,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.
You swallow, feeling your pulse quicken. “Malleus, I—”
But before you can find the words, Malleus leans in, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel the warmth of his hand gently cup your cheek. The world seems to fade away as you both hover there, caught between anticipation and something more.
“I do believe,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as his eyes darken with something you can’t quite name, “that I’m falling for you, my little kidnapper.”
Your heart stutters, and before you know it, you’re closing the space between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, everything else ceases to matter—no fair, no adventures, no strange arrangements. Just the two of you, finally giving in to the pull that’s been drawing you together for weeks.
When you pull back, breathless, Malleus smiles, and it’s the softest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Does this mean,” he says, his voice still low and teasing, “you’ll continue kidnapping me?”
You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in your chest. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Malleus grins, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “No, I suppose not.”
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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This is my first time posting here so i have no idea what i'm doing and the formatting is probably off because i'm on mobile but i'll slowly figure it out.
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kanmom51 · 2 days
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I didn't know this
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*p.s. - She was his gf then and his wife now, why the need to say "his first girlfriend"? First gf we knew about more like it.
OK, so here's the thing... those are JK's eyes, sue me. And the timing of that billboard falling and the keep going..
I have a draft way back from July, me talking about JM's Who MV shoot sketch. I started writing it and found that I couldn't complete it. And now with this - I didn't know this little ever so important piece of information - maybe I can talk about it a little more (bring up some of the things I was thinking about back then).
Basically a few things stood out to me while watching the BTB.
JM being JM as usual. Beautiful, talented, shrewd.
It's quite obvious that JM is involved in the direction of the MV (we were saying...), and this is one thing that stood out to me:
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3 things stood out to me. First was his use of the word people. "...people walk past me...". The second was "for now", as in the MV's "for now". And third was "that's what I'm trying to show". So yes, this was part of JM's vision. The song's meaning chasing that muse, but also the song's MV, which is more about finding that "someone", that "who" in a more understandable language to us, being romantic love.
Song is about the intangible, MV is about corporeal, if you wish.
Watching this had me also go back to the MV itself and notice a few more things I didn't notice first times around, and with that new piece of information about Taeyung and his then girlfriend now wife, and knowing just how huge ENL was back in the day and JM's close friendship now days with Taeyung, well, it just fits so so well.
Just bringing this back for a sec before moving on:
youtube
Back to Who MV and me trying to connect some of the dots.
The scene JM is talking about, with the people, men and women, passing him by and none of them are the person he is looking for, it comes right after this:
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NO QUESTION MARK ON THERE!!!
I also noticed that before this screen falls JM's interactions, the 'people' passing him by are only women, where as after the screen falls and tells him to keep going, well, then it's not only women passing him by. Now he's not limiting himself only to finding "her"? Maybe now he's looking for "him" too? Maybe "him" is the "who" he's looking for and not "her"?
But we know that the billboard has a specific "him" on it. And even though the hers and hims are crossing his path, at this point he isn't interacting with them, they aren't the who he's looking for.
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Another interesting thing I found was that when it comes to those one on one's they are only with women. We have them before the screen falling, and after it fell and he is walking down the street people walking him by, even then, the only ones he interacts with are women. But as he is doing that, this appears on the screen as well:
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This is also right after the huge screen falls from the sky. Is this again someone or something telling him to go back, rewind, that the screen he just walked away from has the answer he's looking for?
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That he missed something, or someone...
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And we know NOTHING is a coincidence when it comes to these two, especially in their artistic decisions.
This either:
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We weren't sure at the time what it all meant.
What was JM hinting to?
What were the editors of AYS hinting to?
I know not everything about their art is about them as a couple. I've said that multiple times. Not every song is about one or the other or them and their love for each other. Not at all.
But...
That doesn't mean we should ALWAYS dismiss the possibility that it may just be about them. That some of their lyrics do have to do with each other, that some of their songs (even if they did not write the lyrics themselves) do have representation of their relationship in them, that some of their artistic decisions are about them showing their true selves and their love for each other.
We have seen songs that we just KNOW are written for the other, about the other, about their love for each other, about a moment they shared with one another, about what the other means to them. And sometimes when the song isn't there are things surrounding them that are. It can be photoshoot concepts or hints within their artistry that pay homage to the other, or that they are agreed upon hints to what they mean to each other. We have seen this with both of them during their solo journey as well.
And now with this new piece of information, which I was not aware of, coming to light I'm thinking that this isn't about a collab or a song (although I would love for there to be a Jikook song). I'm thinking that our first knee jerk reaction to this could have been the right one. That this was all about the Who. That the eyes on that screen, the one JM doesn't get to see in the MV, those are the eyes of his "Who". In the MV, but more so, you know, in real life.
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*Another p.s. - I know I've been silent since the last AYS episode has dropped. It's been a hectic week, but more so it's been hard for me to even try and put into words how I felt coming out (pun most definitley intended) on the other side of this episode. I am working on my post at the moment. The words are not coming easy, I can tell you that much. But it will come. Eventually.💜💜
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yoonia · 2 days
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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj
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⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again
⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints
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⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3
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On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 
But today is not one of those days. 
“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 
“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 
Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 
“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  
“I am not!” 
“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 
Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 
Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 
Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 
Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 
You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 
Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 
Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 
She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 
“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 
You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 
For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 
“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 
Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 
“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 
Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 
Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 
“Hi there, do you need any help?” 
“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 
“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 
Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 
All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 
Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 
“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 
Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 
“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 
“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 
As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 
A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 
“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 
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Find the beauty in the chaos. 
You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 
Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 
You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 
Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 
Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 
While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 
And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 
It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 
“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 
And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 
“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 
“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 
Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 
Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 
Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 
“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 
You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 
Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 
The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 
Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 
Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”
The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 
“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 
Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 
Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 
Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 
No, none of it involves you. 
Maybe. 
You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 
You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 
Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 
You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 
Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 
“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 
“Yes, um. You too.” 
Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 
“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.
“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.
“I’ll see you girls around!” 
Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 
Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 
Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 
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There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 
Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.
It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 
But, of course, it eventually did. 
Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.
Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 
But must it happen when you are inside it?
The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 
Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 
You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 
At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 
It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 
You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 
“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 
You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 
“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 
“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 
It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 
Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 
Is the building really burning? 
Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?
What happens if help doesn’t come? 
What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 
Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—
A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 
"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”
"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."
You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 
Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 
Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  
"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."
Safe. 
The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 
More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.
One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 
Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 
"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."
You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.
"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."
Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 
With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 
“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  
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“Is this really necessary?” 
You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 
Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 
Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 
“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 
“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 
The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 
Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 
“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 
The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 
His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.
Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 
Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 
He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 
You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 
“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 
“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 
At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 
For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 
You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 
With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 
“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 
You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”
“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 
You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 
“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 
As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 
“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 
“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 
You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 
“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  
“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  
You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 
You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 
And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 
“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 
Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 
Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 
Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 
Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 
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It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 
The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 
“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 
Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 
“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 
“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 
Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 
Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  
Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 
He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 
He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 
He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 
It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 
Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—
He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 
“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 
Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. ��You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 
Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 
Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 
“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 
Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 
“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 
“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 
As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 
“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 
“Sure. Anything.” 
“Do you believe in fate?” 
Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 
Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 
“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 
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“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 
“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 
“To friendship.” 
Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 
“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 
Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 
“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 
“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 
Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 
Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  
The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 
Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 
“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 
“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 
You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 
You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 
Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  
“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 
Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 
You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 
As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”
Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 
“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 
“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”
Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 
“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”
“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 
“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”
Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 
 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 
You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 
“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 
The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 
Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 
You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 
Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 
As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 
Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—
Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 
“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 
“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 
“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 
Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 
“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 
“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 
You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 
Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 
“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 
You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 
Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 
It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 
Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 
Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 
“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 
You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 
“I think I’m going to stay.” 
Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 
You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 
“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  
“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 
The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”
“Surprise me.” 
Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 
“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 
Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”
You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 
“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 
“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”
He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”
You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”
He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 
The look which shows a different kind of want.
And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 
It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 
Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 
But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 
Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 
“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 
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“Your place, or mine?”
A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 
You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 
Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 
“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 
“No, they’re at my parents.” 
A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 
You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 
Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 
In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 
He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 
“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 
Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 
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In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 
He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 
“Of course.” 
“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 
“Since the fire alert?” 
“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 
Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 
No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 
“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 
Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 
With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 
You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 
Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 
Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 
You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 
As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 
Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 
“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 
Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 
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“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 
It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 
“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 
As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 
Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 
Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  
Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 
He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 
For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss
Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 
He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 
The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 
Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  
Tonight is going to be a good night.
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As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 
It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 
You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 
Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 
Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 
As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 
It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 
While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 
You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 
Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.
Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 
He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”
Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 
A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 
You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 
His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 
It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 
You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 
Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 
“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 
“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  
He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 
You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 
“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 
Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 
The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 
Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 
“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 
Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 
“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 
“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 
He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 
With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 
Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 
He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 
Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 
Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 
Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 
“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 
At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 
Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 
Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 
Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 
His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 
In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 
His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 
Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 
Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 
“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 
Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 
“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 
“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 
“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 
Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 
It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 
As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 
Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 
Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 
“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 
Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 
Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 
With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 
Dear God, help me. 
You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 
Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 
“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  
“Everything okay?” 
You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 
Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 
Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 
His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  
“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 
You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 
Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 
Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 
Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 
Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 
An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 
Desperation. 
Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 
Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 
Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 
His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 
Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 
You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 
His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 
With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 
With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 
It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 
Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 
Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 
His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 
You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 
Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 
This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 
With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 
Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 
“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 
He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 
The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 
You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 
He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 
“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 
You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 
Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.
His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 
The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.
“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   
“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 
His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 
“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 
The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 
He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 
Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 
You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 
As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 
His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 
Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 
You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 
A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 
“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 
Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 
Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 
These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 
“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 
Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 
With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 
Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 
Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 
“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 
Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 
Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 
Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.
“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 
Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 
Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 
“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 
Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 
“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 
“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 
With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 
“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 
It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 
It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 
“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 
You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 
He’s close. 
“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.
“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 
A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 
Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 
The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 
Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 
“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 
“Hmm…yes, it was…” 
A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 
Incredible. Astounding. 
“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 
You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 
Stay the night. 
The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 
“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 
“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 
“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 
Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 
You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 
You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 
Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 
Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 
You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 
His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 
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Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. 
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— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
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lycheeloving · 1 day
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Why is there almost no Lex Luthor content... I saw him in Young Justice and immediately got inspired lol
Anyways, here's a yandere!Lex Luthor fic, with Superman and Batman rescuing you, but do they have good intentions? 👀 (gender neutral reader ofc)
Warnings for mind controlling/altering devices & substances ✌️ and general yandere stuff ofc
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You're not the biggest fan of big events with many people, but with Lex at your side, you find you don't really mind anything, even the gala you're currently at.
Holding his hand, you happily watch him as he talks to rich people you couldn't care less about, when he turns to look at you.
You perk up as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You try to lean into it, but he pulls away too fast for your liking. At least you catch a whiff of his scent, he always smells so good...
"Be a doll and get yourself a drink at the bar, would you?"
Ah.
That's code for "we're going to talk about confidential business stuff". Sure. You can spend some time away from him, even if it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. You'll do it for him!
You silently nod, reluctantly let go of his hand and start making your way across the room towards the bar.
As you're leaving, you make out the word "Justice League". They have been giving him trouble recently, is that what their conversation is about? You can never remember what exactly their issue is with him... He's just a CEO!
Unfortunately the bar is out of earshot, so you can't keep listening, which is exactly why he sent you away in the first place, but you sit on a stool from which you can still easily see him.
He always says that you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about his boring business stuff, so you don't, but he always looks so good when talking about it! So serious and in charge...
After ordering a fun looking cocktail you sigh, already missing him.
You didn't use to like alcohol, but everything tastes better now that you know him, so you indulge in the occasional drink.
You catch yourself staring at Lex. Maybe you shouldn't look at him this much? What if people think he's weird for dating someone who's this obsessed with him? You don't want that for him, he has so much to deal with already... Swishing your drink around, you try to tear your eyes away from him.
You sigh again.
Somebody slides onto the stool next to you and orders a fancy sounding drink. He turns to you.
"Are you ok? I could hear you sighing from across the room."
"I'm fine... I just miss my boyfriend." You hold back another sigh and absentmindedly trace the rim of your glass.
"Oh, so you came here alone?"
"No, he's over there." You subtly point at him. "He's just talking about some important business stuff without me right now."
"Lex Luthor?" He pulls a face as you nod.
"So you're..." He says your name. Apparently people know you! Huh. You hadn't realized.
"I'm Bruce Wayne, by the way."
Now that he mentions it, you don't know how you didn't notice it before. He is quite famous. You probably should have recognized him, but you were too distracted by how dreamy Lex looks...
"What are you doing with him? I mean, he's not known for being fun. Or kind."
He sounds like he's joking, but you don't think it's funny. Your face turns serious.
"You must not know him very well, then."
He holds up his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. Or him, I guess..." He trails off.
Changing the topic with a grin, he says: "I'm guessing that means I don't have a chance with you?"
You shake your head. He can't be serious.
"...What if I shave my head? Would you consider leaving Luthor for me if I was bald?"
You crack a little smile at that. But your answer remains the same.
"No, I wouldn't leave my Lexie for anyone."
His eyes widen. "Oh, wow, so your relationship is pretty serious, then?"
Why would he even ask that?
"Of course it's serious, I love him!"
He pauses for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.
"...and does he love you?"
You gently touch the spot where Lex last pressed a kiss to your face and look in his direction, only to find he's already looking right back at you. You smile.
"He does." You're sure of it.
Bruce gets up from his chair as Lex starts making his way towards you. "Well, it's been fun, but I'm going to go find someone I actually have a chance with." And avoid a confrontation with Lex.
He winks at you. "Bye!"
You don't say anything back as he leaves, because you're too busy looking at Lex, who's now standing right in front of you. He puts his hands on the bar behind you, caging you in with his arms.
"What did Wayne want from you?"
"Oh, I don't know, nothing important." Already distracted, you reach up to play with his tie.
He raises an eyebrow. "Were you not paying attention to him? Good. Can't have you leaving me for him."
Your eyes widen and you shake your head, even though you know he's just teasing you.
You would never! He smirks as if he can read your mind.
"Well, I have some more business to attend to. I have informed our driver that he is to take you home whenever you wish, while I will be returning to the office."
You pout at him. "I know your work is important, but please don't take too long. I'll miss you..."
He smirks. "I know, darling. I will hurry back to you."
The kiss he presses to your lips is eagerly reciprocated by you, before he gently pulls your hand away from his tie and goes back to the people he was talking to earlier, vanishing through the door.
No reason to stay here now that he's gone, right? You finish your drink and leave the building, but as you turn to look for your driver, you bump into someone.
You go to apologize, but the other guy is faster.
"Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
His eyes widen and he straightens his glasses.
"Wait! You're Lex Luthors significant other, right?"
You nod with a smile. How lovely that this is what people know you as!
"I'm Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. I've been meaning to talk to you about-"
Your smile vanishes. "No comment."
Lex told you that no matter what you say, reporters twist it in a way that makes you look bad, and that it's best not to engage.
He seems a bit disappointed at your quick response. "That's fair. But off the record, can I just ask how you met him? As far as I know, you weren't a part of these circles before you showed up on his arm one day."
"Off record?"
He nods.
You think you can trust him, at least with some of it.
"We met at my workplace. I used to be a barista."
Not knowing how to make it sound nice, you leave out the part where you thought he was rude to your coworker and reprimanded him, and how you only grudgingly agreed to go on a date with him because he cornered you after work and threatened to get your coworker fired if you refused.
But it was all a big misunderstanding! During that first date you realized that you really like him and that he's a really good guy!
He just didn't know how else you'd agree to go out with him after you were so angry at the beginning!
"So it was love at first sight?" Kent questions.
"Not first sight, maybe, but I knew he was the one during our first date. It just... felt so right."
Lex, of course, did know at first sight, but he's always been smarter than you, so it's not a surprise that he caught on more quickly.
"Well, thanks for the conversation. I'm going to find someone I can actually interview now, so my boss doesn't get too mad at me. Bye!"
He stumbles towards the building, bumping into someone else. What a clumsy guy! You catch him looking at you again before he enters through the door.
You finally make your way to the driver and get into the limo, driving home in silence.
Time for a lonely night without Lex...
After you get home and get ready for bed, you put on one of his shirts and go to sleep on his side of the bed.
That way you'll definitely wake up when he returns, because he refuses to sleep on your side. He'll have to get you out of the way somehow, probably pick you up...
Burying your face in his pillow where his scent is the strongest, you fall asleep.
A noise from the direction of Lex's home office wakes you up.
You're still on his side of the bed. Did he come home and keep working? Seriously? Maybe he'll let you sit in his lap while he finishes whatever he's doing...
Quietly walking towards his room, you hear low voices. Is Lex on a call? In the middle of the night?
As you make it to the entrance, you can finally make out words. It's not Lex.
"-only let you come because you said you could be stealthy. If I knew you'd be this loud, I would have come here alone."
You sneak a look around the door. Is that Batman? And-
"This is my city, and I know Luthor better than anyone, that's why I came along. Besides, I didn't make that much noise!"
-Superman!
You take a step back. Where is the button that alarms security again...? Next to the bed, right? You start making your way back to the bedroom, but...
"We have company."
You're almost at the button, try to start running towards it, but Superman is in front of you before you can blink. Shit.
"Sorry, can't let you inform anyone that we're here, we still haven't gotten everything we came for!"
He actually looks apologetic. What is wrong with him? Breaking into your home, but pretending to feel bad about it?
He holds onto both of your arms and leads you back into the office, where Batman is tinkering with Lex's computer. What could they be looking for?
"Well, if you're here already, we might as well ask you directly. What do you know about Luthor's mind-controlling technology?" Batman asks you.
Mind-controlling? What would Lex need that for?
"I- I think you've got the wrong person. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"People who usually would never cooperate with Luthor have started working for him, so I got suspicious. After some research I was able to figure out that he uses microchips to control them. But we haven't been able to figure out how to extract them without causing damage to the person they've been installed in."
Batman takes a step towards you.
"So I'll ask one more time. What do you know?"
You really have no idea what he's talking about.
"Wh- What would Lex even use that for? I don't understand!"
"Batman, are you sure they know anything? We're already 99% sure there's a chip inside of them as well, maybe one of its effects is not remembering anything about the chips?"
"It was worth a try." Batman turns to look at Superman. "I assume this means you haven't checked for a chip yet? Make yourself useful and use your x-ray vision."
"Oh, right! Right..." Superman mumbles. "No need to be rude about it."
He focuses his gaze on you. It's pretty unnerving, knowing he's looking inside of you. There's nothing you could hide from him, nothing you could do to make him stop looking at you. You hope he's really only looking inside of you...
After looking at you for too long for comfort, he chimes up: "Yep, there's a chip! Right in the shoulder."
Of course there's a chip in your shoulder, but that doesn't mean you're being controlled!
"That's just a tracker! Lex put it there in case I'm ever kidnapped or something, so he'll immediately know where I am!"
"...You let him put a tracker in you? Voluntarily?" Superman seems confused.
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You're confused as well. Why wouldn't you let him? He did it because he loves you! To take care of you!
Batman doesn't seem to care, only humming in acknowledgement and going back to fiddling with the computer.
That reminds you that Lex put another gadget on you...
Your necklace (beautiful, expensive, and of the letters "LL") sends him a discreet emergency signal as soon as you take it off! You just need to be able to reach it...
"Um... Superman?" You crane your neck to look up at him.
"Do you have to hold onto me like that? I mean, just, what could I do to get away, right?"
You look up at him and try to look as confused and innocent as possible.
You glance at Batman. He seems to not be interested in your conversation at all, instead focusing on the computer. Good.
"You're fast enough to immediately catch me, before I could even take a tiny step! Just- This position is kind of awkward to be in, right?"
Please fall for it, please fall for it...
"Sure, you've been pretty cooperative so far, I don't think we have anything to worry about with you..."
He chuckles, almost embarrassed, then reluctantly lets go of his hold on your arms, flexing his hands.
Holy shit. It worked.
"Nice, thanks!" You smile. What an idiot.
Now you just have to play it cool...
Act natural and normal and not like you're up to anything...
You reach up to rub your neck, as if having turned it to look up at Superman strained it.
Well, it did, but you're mostly doing it to get your hands near the necklace. And now you just have to-
The necklace opens with a quiet click, followed by an alarm sounding from the computer.
Right. You forgot it sends a signal to all of Lex's technology, including the computer in this room. Oops.
Oh well, doesn't really make a difference if they're aware that you alarmed Lex or not. What could they do about it now?
Both Superman's and Batman's heads snap towards you. You smile. Lex should be on his way now.
"Superman, why would you let go of-" Batman cuts himself off. "Doesn't matter. I have the information we came here for. Let's go."
"Are we just going to leave them here?" Superman sounds concerned.
Batman walks towards you, holding something up to your face. "No."
It smells weird, what is that? You feel dizzy, try to pull your head away from it, but Batman is holding onto you, you can't move.
Then, everything goes black.
You wake up on a bed in a bright, unfamiliar room with an ache in your shoulder.
There's a bandage in the spot where your tracker is. Or, used to be, you assume.
Rude of them, to dig around in your body without your permission.
Lex will freak out when he hears about this. He must be looking for you already.
What is this, some kind of infirmary? Where exactly are you?
Just when you decide to get up and try to leave or find out more about where you are, Superman enters the room.
"Oh, you're awake!" He gently pushes you to lie back down. You don't object, you know how strong he is, even if he is being careful right now.
"You shouldn't get up yet, your body should still be adjusting to the chip being gone."
He looks at you with curiosity. Or with hope? You can't quite tell what his expression means.
"Which, by the way, do you feel any different? About Luthor? Any memories popping up that you couldn't remember before?"
Now that he mentions it, some of your time with Lex seems... clearer. You suddenly remember the whole chip thing. And that he's constantly trying to fight (and kill) Superman and the rest of the Justice League. And a bunch of immoral business choices. And villain stuff.
But you still love him.
"I don't feel any different."
Lex must have had a good reason to block those memories from your mind.
Maybe it was for exactly this scenario, so that if the Justice League kidnapped you, you wouldn't be able to tell them anything! Unfortunately they were able to restore those memories, but that doesn't mean that you have to tell them that and make it easier for them!
Superman looks disappointed. "Oh... That's unfortunate."
Why does he seem to be so invested in this? Just because he hates Lex? What does he care if Lex is in a relationship, that shouldn't concern him at all!
"So can I go now?" You throw your legs over the side of the bed and sit up again.
"I mean, now that you know that I wasn't influenced by that chip? You can't keep me here, that would be kidnapping!"
It already is kidnapping, technically.
"Sorry, I can't let you leave." He doesn't look super apologetic about this.
"Batman is still working on something."
"I'm done working on it, actually," Batman responds.
Wait, when did Batman get here? You didn't hear him enter the room...
Superman perks up. "And did you find anything?"
"I did." Batman turns to you, his expression even more serious than usual.
"Blood tests revealed that you are affected by a toxin that messes with your pheromones. After digging through more information on Luthors computer, I was able to find correspondence between him and Poison Ivy. Apparently they made a concoction that is specific to your dna, meaning only you are affected by it, and it causes you to be attracted to him alone. He must have used it as an aftershave or perfume, but it seems pretty long lasting. The effects should last up to a month after exposure."
No. That can't be true.
"You're lying. Lex wouldn't do that. He had no reason to do that, I love him!"
Batman ignores you. "Luckily I was able to synthesize an antidote. Hold still."
You don't hold still, of course, trying to scramble off of the bed, but Superman holds onto you.
"Shhhh, calm down. You'll feel better soon," he whispers, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear.
Batman gets closer to you with a syringe, preparing to inject you with a green liquid.
"This is going to hurt."
"Wait!" you try to protest, but-
-you feel the syringe enter your skin, and then you feel pain. In your entire body.
It hurts! Why does it hurt so much!
You squirm in Superman's grip. Your head feels like it's going to explode.
There's nothing but pain for a few seconds that feel like eternity.
But then- nothing.
You feel nothing. No pain. And-
"Holy shit." You blink.
"Holy SHIT."
What did that fucker do to you?
"I was in a relationship with Lex Luthor? Why did nobody stop me! What is wrong with everyone!"
You blink again.
"I mean, I guess you stopped me. So... thank you?"
Superman lets go of you, seemingly content that you've come to your senses.
Batman seems to be holding back a smirk.
You're not done processing everything yet.
"Why would he-"
You forget what you were going to say and gasp, distracted by a new thought.
"Wait, what the fuck am I going to do now! Where can I go? I moved in with him and he made me break off contact with all of my friends! I don't have an apartment anymore or friends to stay with!"
You look at the two heroes. "D- Do you think he'll look for me? Probably, right? I mean, we were going to get married."
You feel sick.
"Wait, is an engagement legally binding? Fuck. Can I just leave? We didn't make it public yet, but that doesn't make a difference, right? Fuck!"
Superman puts his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll take care of all of that. We won't allow him anywhere near you ever again."
Batman adds on: "And you can stay in the Watchtower for now. That's the safest place for you. He won't manage to get in here."
You frown. "Are you sure that's ok? I don't want to be a burden..."
Superman's smile gets wider, it's almost creepy.
Batman moves closer to you, putting his hand on your other shoulder. You're starting to feel a bit smothered.
"We'll gladly take care of you. For however long it takes."
You wonder if that means forever.
201 notes · View notes
2amriize · 2 days
Text
⟡˖ RIIZE drunk confessions
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre crack, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
Shotaro didn't usually get drunk, but when he did, it was hardly noticeable, as his personality remained as happy and energetic as ever. Still, he had confessed to you that most of the time, he tended to forget what had happened while he was drunk, which is why he didn't like getting too drunk. He preferred to enjoy a party while completely sober.
That night, you and Shotaro had made dinner plans for your birthday, as he knew you had wanted to try a sushi restaurant for a long time, and he had decided to invite you as part of your birthday gift. When you ordered drinks, Shotaro decided to try a mango drink with a funny name, not realizing it contained alcohol. It wasn’t until you had finished the first round of sushi that Shotaro began to realize the drink wasn't just mango, which made you laugh quite a bit. You spent some time laughing at the way Shotaro was complaining about the drink, saying that it didn't mention anywhere that it had alcohol and that he felt deceived.
"Don't worry, Shotaro, you usually don't get dizzy anyway."
"But I want to remember tonight..." he murmured as the waiter placed another tray of sushi on the table.
You continued chatting while eating, sharing funny anecdotes and reminiscing about old times you'd spent together. At some point, the conversation shifted to the crushes you both had back in high school, recalling how Shotaro had liked a girl for quite some time.
"Aren't you curious about how she's doing now? Maybe you two might like each other."
"Not really, I'm not interested in her anymore. There's someone else on my mind."
"What? And you haven't told me?" you said, crossing your arms as you looked at him.
"No, it's just that..." Shotaro looked at you before letting out a small sigh, placing one of his hands on his head. "It's someone you know."
"Huh?" You paused for a few seconds, but since all the friends you shared were already in relationships, you looked at him, confused. "I can't think of anyone..."
"I don't want to say it out loud because I know I won't remember it tomorrow, but..." Shotaro looked back at you with a small smile. You exchanged glances for a few seconds, realizing that the person he was referring to was you. You couldn't help but blush and look away after a few seconds, nervously trying to change the subject.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
Seeing Eunseok drunk at your door was the last thing you expected that night. You had talked to him a few hours earlier, and he had told you he was going out to dinner with some friends, so you never expected to receive a message saying he was at your door at 1 AM, just when you were about to go to sleep. You opened the door in your pajamas and found Eunseok, who was a bit dressed up. You noticed his eyes looked a bit more tired than usual, and his cheeks were pink. It was when he walked past you that you realized he smelled like alcohol.
"Are you drunk, Eunseok?" you asked while closing the door, watching him as he sat down on your couch.
"Maybe. A little... quite a bit," he said, running his hand through his hair, messing it up as he laughed.
"What are you doing here at this hour? You should go home, you look tired."
You murmured as you returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for Eunseok. You sat beside him on the couch, shaking your head as you sighed.
"I know... but I started walking, and I ended up at your door. Don’t you think it’s fate?"
"What fate, Eunseok...? How much have you had to drink?"
"Not much..." he whispered, taking a sip of water before getting more comfortable on the couch and looking at you. "Y/n, actually..."
"Yes?"
"No, nevermind."
"Eunseok, you can't start a sentence and not finish it. You know how much I hate that..."
"Actually... I came here because I missed you, I really wanted to see you, y/n," he murmured, looking directly into your eyes. "Lately, you’re the only person I think about, I can’t get you out of my head..."
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
Sungchan loved going to parties. You weren't really a fan of them, as you got tired quickly and felt stressed when there were too many people, but sometimes you agreed to go to parties with Sungchan because you always had a great time, even if only for a while. That night, your group of friends had plans to go out partying, so Sungchan picked you up from your house to go to the club. As soon as you arrived, he immediately went to get drinks for you and himself. You spent about an hour dancing with everyone, laughing, and being silly. You weren't sure how he did it, but Sungchan got drunk way too fast. Even so, he was always looking out for you, keeping an eye on you in case you needed anything. Sungchan was the kind of person who became a bit sillier when he got drunk. He said nonsensical things, couldn't stop laughing, and made everyone around him laugh too. He just wanted everyone to be having a good time all the time.
After a few hours in the club, you started feeling like your social battery was running out. At first, you tried to hide it and hang on for a bit longer, knowing that if you said you wanted to leave, it would ruin everyone’s mood. Even so, Sungchan noticed that your mood had dropped a bit, so he leaned in close to your ear and said, “Do you want me to walk you home?” You felt a little guilty about making him leave, but Sungchan kept insisting, so the two of you finally left the club.
On the way home, you talked about silly things, anything that came to mind, goofing around as you walked through the streets. You couldn’t help but laugh whenever you were with Sungchan. At one point, when you were close to your house, you started playing “marry, kill, kiss.” At first, you picked people you didn’t like or those you really liked. In one of the rounds, you decided to include yourself and two girls you knew Sungchan had liked at some point.
“I’d kill both of them and marry you, obviously,” Sungchan answered with surprising speed.
“That’s not how the game works, Sungchan, you can’t kill both of them…”
“But I don’t want to kiss either of them. I’d kiss you too.”
You kept walking beside him, looking at him, confused by how casually he responded. You had gotten nervous at his answer, but he seemed completely calm.
“Sungchan, you’re way too drunk.”
“Maybe,” he said, laughing and scratching his head a little. “But I don’t lie when I’m drunk, y/n. I could kiss you right now, but I’d rather be sober for our first kiss.”
ᯓ★ WONBIN
"I think I'm a little dizzy..." Wonbin said, looking at you. His big eyes were gazing into yours, and his cheeks were starting to turn red. You couldn't help but smile and touch his cheeks, noticing how they were gradually warming up.
"That's because you drank half a bottle in less than five minutes, Wonbin," you said with a small laugh, pouring yourself a bit into a small glass.
Both you and Wonbin preferred staying in rather than going out, which is why whenever you felt like hanging out with someone but didn’t want to go out, you would always text each other. That night, you decided to meet up, drink some alcohol, and chat since it had been a while, and it was one of your favorite plans together. Usually, you'd both drink slowly and never get too drunk, but that night Wonbin seemed intent on getting drunk, which surprised you since you'd never seen him like that before.
"Your hands are really cold..." Wonbin mumbled after you removed your hands from his cheeks, placing his own hands on them instead.
"They're always cold," you laughed, watching how he was acting while taking a sip from your glass.
You both talked about your usual topics, sharing the latest gossip you'd heard about people you knew. After an hour of drinking, you could definitely tell that Wonbin was getting a little drunk. You loved teasing him normally, but it was even more fun when he was drunk because he looked so cute when he complained. At one point, both of you fell into a few moments of silence, and you noticed Wonbin’s gaze on you. You looked back at him, locking eyes for a few seconds, but when you saw the way he was looking at you, you looked away, feeling a bit nervous.
"Why are you looking at me like that? You're making me nervous..."
"It's just... you look really pretty," he murmured while still gazing at you.
"Don’t say nonsense, Wonbin, you’re too drunk."
"Maybe I am, but I’m not lying... I really like you, y/n."
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
You and Seunghan had gotten along well since the first day you met in class. I mean, everyone liked Seunghan because he was very kind to everyone. You couldn’t deny that you had developed a little crush on him, but you knew how popular he was and thought he probably only saw you as a friend, so you never said anything and had no intention of doing so. Your class group had organized an end-of-year dinner after the exams, so you had all met at a restaurant. As always, Seunghan sat next to you since he was the person you were most comfortable with in your class. At the beginning of the dinner, everyone talked about the teachers and different subjects, but as the night went on, the conversation shifted to gossip and confessions. On top of that, many of your classmates started drinking and getting drunk. You didn’t like drinking alcohol, so you were completely sober. What you didn’t expect was for Seunghan to get drunk, and what surprised you most was the way he acted. Unlike the others, who became much more active and loud, Seunghan seemed calmer. In fact, he was much more affectionate than usual, acting in a way you had never seen before. As the night went on, people gradually left. Eventually, only Seunghan, you, and a few others remained at the table, though Seunghan was already struggling to keep his eyes open. He had drunk too much and was starting to talk about random things, laughing at everything.
At one point, you felt his head rest on your shoulder, which surprised you and made you a little nervous.
“Seunghan… are you okay? Do you want me to call a taxi?” you whispered, glancing at him and grabbing his arm to keep him steady.
“Y/n... I have something to tell you…” he whispered in a low tone, gesturing for you to lean closer. You laughed and leaned in to listen. “I like you...” he whispered a little clumsily before pulling away and giving you a small laugh.
You froze, staring at him. Did you hear him right? Did Seunghan just tell you he liked you? After a few seconds of staring in silence, you shook your head, thinking he only said it because he was drunk.
“Guys... did you know I like y/n?” he said to the others left at the table, who laughed at how drunk he was.
Feeling embarrassed, you decided to call a taxi and grab Seunghan to leave. “I think it’s time to go home, Seunghan…” After dropping him off at his place, you couldn’t help but spend the whole night kicking your feet, thinking about the way he had just confessed to you.
ᯓ★ SOHEE
You loved seeing Sohee drunk. He was already funny normally, but when he got drunk, he became overly extroverted and energetic, which made you laugh a lot. There hadn’t been a party in months, so it had been a long time since you’d seen Sohee drunk. But that night, both of you had been invited to a friend’s house party. It had been weeks since you’d been able to hang out with Sohee due to your schedules, so besides being excited about finally going to a party, you were also excited to see Sohee after so long because you had missed him a lot. Not even an hour had passed before Sohee was dancing everywhere, jumping around, and joking with everyone. You loved seeing him so happy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. You had been together the whole time at the party, but when you returned after grabbing another drink, you found a girl had approached Sohee to talk to him. At first, you felt a little disheartened, but you thought maybe this was Sohee’s chance to meet someone, and who knows, maybe start dating. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you wondered if you liked Sohee, but you always ended up with the same conclusion: you didn’t know.
You decided to go out to the patio to drink, as you didn’t feel like being around the others at that moment. You needed a quiet moment after dancing for so long. After spending a few minutes alone with your thoughts, you noticed someone sit beside you. When you looked, you found Sohee, who sighed and then looked at you, laughing.
“Weren’t you with a girl, Sohee?” you asked, looking at him while sipping your drink.
“Yeah... she came up to talk to me.”
“She was pretty cute, wasn’t she?” you let out a small laugh, nudging Sohee, who seemed rather serious.
“Well, maybe.”
“Is something wrong, Sohee?” You looked at him, noticing his cheeks and ears were a little red. Although Sohee could be very energetic when drunk, there was also a moment when all that energy faded, but he still remained pretty drunk. Most of the time, when this happened, you would stay up late talking about anything together. “Didn’t you like the girl?”
“No... Actually, I’m only interested in one person,” he said, resting his head on his arms and staring at you intently.
You were surprised to hear this and stared back at him. The two of you locked eyes for several long seconds. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt like Sohee was speaking to you with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach from the way he was looking at you.
“Sohee... you know you won’t remember this tomorrow, right?”
“Then remind me, y/n, so I can tell you when I’m sober.”
ᯓ★ ANTON
You and Anton had never gotten drunk before, but when you were younger, you had both promised that the first time you did, you would be together. That’s why you were now in Anton’s living room. You had bought some pizzas and a few bottles of soju since it was the drink all your friends had recommended at some point. To be honest, both of you were excited, but deep down, you were a little nervous about how it would make you feel. To your surprise, after finishing an entire bottle of soju between the two of you, you only felt a little happier. Unlike you, Anton was acting quite differently. First of all, his ears and cheeks were completely red, which you found really cute. You also noticed that he was talking more, and his voice had changed. It was slightly deeper and a bit louder, which surprised you; though you could also tell he was struggling to say some things. After finishing the second bottle, you felt a bit more dizzy, but you decided not to open another one, seeing the state Anton was in. He couldn’t stop talking nonsense and was becoming very touchy with you. You thought that one of you had to stay a bit sensible in case anything happened.
You had already finished eating and were both sitting on the couch watching TV, with Anton’s head resting on your shoulder. At one point, you felt his gaze linger on you longer than usual, so you looked back at him, feeling a bit nervous about the way he was staring at you.
“Is something wrong, Anton...? Are you okay?”
“You have such beautiful hair, y/n…” he began to murmur, making you chuckle. “Your laugh is beautiful too, and your eyes, and your lips…” You both fell silent for a few seconds, looking at each other. “I think I like you, y/n.”
You couldn’t help but be surprised at hearing this, shaking your head several times as you felt your cheeks heat up. “Anton, you don’t know what you’re saying, you’re drunk…”
“I’m serious, y/n, I like you so much. I could kiss you right now…” he whispered, leaning closer to you, but you grabbed his shoulders.
“Anton… let’s talk about this when you’re sober…”
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor
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hellodropbear · 1 day
Text
17520 hours.
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mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter (ish)
angst. part of the 'it's time.' series
mapi struggles on the two year anniversary of her best friend's death. Ingrid is right there to help her but she doesn't know how to let her in.
this is a lot more angst than i'm used to posting but i hope you like it.
it was hard to write and partially based on personal experiences so i apologise if it's not very good.
also decided to put it all in one part because i couldn't find a good place to split it!
i hope you enjoy :)
~~~~~~
Two years is a long time. 
Two years is 104 weeks, two years is 730 days. Two birthdays, two christmases, two easters. Two summers and two winters, two new years and two anniversaries. 
Two years is a long time to miss someone. It should be enough time to have moved on. 
But when their daughter is in your care, that seems almost impossible. 
It was everyday that Mapi thought about her best friend, sometimes looking at her daughter and only seeing his eyes staring right back at her. 
The day was one that the Spaniard dreaded, the days becoming quicker and quicker in the lead up, the night before slowing right down as she crawled into bed, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep. 
Isabel was almost two. Still too young to understand that there was anything out of the ordinary in her life, anything that raised any questions. Even if Mapi tried explaining, she was sure that her daughter wouldn’t have the first idea what anything meant. 
She wouldn’t understand that Mapi wasn’t supposed to have her even though she gave birth. She wouldn’t understand that her parents had died because her Mami was right there in front of her. 
It was just a part of parenthood that Mapi had no idea how to conquer. She knew everything else, having spent hours and hours with her head buried in countless baby books, countless books that discussed grief and sadness in children. 
But Isabel wasn’t sad, she wasn’t grieving because she never knew Luis or Isabel. 
There were no books about how to tell a kid about her dead parents. It was a taboo topic, of sorts, one that many stand-in parents were reluctant to discuss with their child, hoping that they would just believe that they were their real parents. It was a bridge most people decided to cross when they had to, not at any point earlier than completely necessary. 
Mapi didn’t want that, she wanted her daughter to know who Luis was, who Isabel was. 
She just didn’t know when or how she should introduce the idea of them. 
But the second anniversary of their death left Mapi in a numb state, entirely torn up on the inside as she tried to decide whether she would take her daughter with her on her annual graveyard visit. It was Mapi’s time to chat to Luis alone, no interruptions, no distractions. 
Because while Isabel lost her parents, Mapi lost her lifelong best friend. 
She lost Luis, who meant everything and more to her. Luis who had moved to Barcelona a few months after her, Luis who watched every single one of her games, the first person to text her after a hard loss or an impressive win. 
She still hadn’t got out of the habit of checking her phone after a match, pain settling deep in her chest as her screen remained bare, his notification forever absent. 
It wasn’t a question of where she would be on the second anniversary. She knew exactly where she would be sat and exactly how she would feel as she stared at that obnoxiously large gravestone, big bold carvings of his name, his date of birth and date of death. 
‘Loving husband, son and friend.’ it read. Not father. ‘A man who lit up the lives of everyone he met.’ It was an understatement, Mapi had thought.
She had spent hours there when Isabel was a newborn, cradling her tiny body in her arms as she sat and silently stared at those few words. Loneliness ate her up, wishing for nothing other than her best friend. 
But her daughter had lit up her world as everything else was crumbling down, single handedly keeping the two of them afloat as Mapi grew tired, the sheer weight of her emotions almost drowning them. 
Isabel was an infant, too young to know anything was different. She was completely enraptured by her mother, smiling and laughing everyday they spent together in their small and stuffy apartment, completely unaware of the anguish that her mother was going through. 
It seemed fitting on the second anniversary of their death, only a couple months before her second birthday that Isabel would finally visit their gravestones. 
Even the thought of the graveyard made her feel uncomfortable, Mapi’s skin crawling at the thought of her best friend beneath her, cold and still. Someone she loved, such a warm and constant presence in her life, lying right there in the ground. 
It made her feel sick. Sick with anger because he was gone too soon. With grief because she never got to say goodbye. With guilt because she got to have the one thing he had always wanted. But mostly sick with the heartbreaking realisation that he was down there, in the flesh. 
Luis was dead. 
~~~~~~
It wasn’t a cold day, but she shivered as she stepped out of the car, the cool breeze prickling her skin as she unclipped a groggy Isabel from the back seat. 
“Where are we, Mami?” 
She looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, probably expecting to have woken up in her bed. 
Mapi just hugged her, not trusting her voice to not break if she tried to respond. 
Despite only visiting twice before, the graveyard was familiar, she knew exactly how to get to Luis’ plot. She walked with purpose, not looking at the grave as she laid down the rug, only facing her best friend’s name once she was sat down. 
“This is your Papi, Is.”
Saying it out loud, her daughter in her arms. His daughter in her arms. It felt unusual, it felt uncomfortable. She could feel Isabel looking up at her, the confusion that radiated from the toddler’s body. 
She loosened her arms as Isabel wriggled herself free, waddling towards the stone and placing her hand on it. 
“Papi?”
She looked back at Mapi, a question in her eyes. She was met with tears slipping down her Mami’s face. 
“Mami.”
In an instant, she was back in Mapi’s arms, reaching up and wiping away the tears. 
“No sad, Mami. Brave like lion.”
Mapi nodded, a watery chuckle falling from her mouth. 
“I’m going to talk to your Papi, Is. Is that ok?”
Isabel nodded, settling herself on the rug with her lion toy as Mapi stood up, walking closer to the stone and placing her hand on his name, crouching down so it was at eye level. 
“Meet your daughter, Lu. She has your eyes, you know. She’s funny and smart and entirely the light of my life. I love her so much. More than I ever loved you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, really. I promise. I promise I’ve tried my best and I hope you’re proud of her. I hope you’re proud of me.”
She bit her lip, unsuccessfully biting back her own tears. 
“It’s been two years, Lu. I don’t know how I have made it through two whole years without you, really. It’s been so… hard. I still expect to see you, to hear from you. Sometimes I think I do, only to realise that it’s not possible. Because you’re dead. You weren’t supposed to die, not so soon. You were supposed to watch your daughter grow, I was supposed to be her really cool aunt that she would go to when you argued, to give her that tattoo when you said no. ”
She let out a strangled chuckle, trying to alleviate some of the pain she felt. They had discussed Mapi’s relationship with the child at length, knowing that the centre back would love the child as her own because she was always with Luis, she would always be around the couple as they raised their child. That wouldn’t have changed if she wasn’t biologically Mapi’s. 
Back then, Mapi had thought she would have been fine with the situation. She knew the baby wasn’t really hers, she knew that she would still be able to watch the baby grow up, that she would still be able to love her. 
It wasn’t a problem that had actually materialised, but they hadn’t expected both Isabel and Luis to die right before she was born. 
“Now I have to discipline her, Luis, which is the one thing I didn’t want to have to do. But she’s such a good girl, she is so intelligent. Like you, really. She knows how I feel all the time, she definitely inherited your emotional intelligence. She loves everyone too, just like you. I was never supposed to be a mother, was I? You were always the paternal one out of the two of us, you were the one who deserved a child. But I am the one that got her.”
She swallows roughly, biting her lip. 
“Oh Luis, you would have loved her so much.”
Very quickly, she is overcome by her tears, collapsing down into herself in sobs. 
It’s all too much, it’s all too hard. 
It’s unfair that her best friend left her, that she was left alone to grow up. Growing up was something they had discussed at length when they were younger. Obviously they were never going to be married, they’d never live together. 
They had dreamt of adjoining houses, doors that connected their backyards. They were going to grow up together, the two of them. Luis would have his wife and a gaggle of kids, Mapi would have her wife and a pack of cats. They’d have their own families but their lives would be so closely connected because they loved each other in the purest way possible. 
A childhood connection, one that grew and grew into adulthood. 
One that was supposed to last a lifetime. 
It did last a lifetime, it lasted Luis’ lifetime. Just not Mapi’s. 
She calmed herself down after a couple minutes, Isabel unsurprisingly noticing her mother’s sadness and crawling into her arms as a source of comfort. 
They sat there for hours, an easy silence settling upon the pair. Mapi was deep in thought, Isabel knew it wasn’t the time for play, it wasn’t the time for her mindless babbling. 
It had been a couple hours when she heard the footsteps, people approaching silently. 
She hadn’t expected to see anyone there, but upon reflection she realised she had been naive - it was the anniversary after all. 
“Maria?”
She hadn’t heard Ane’s voice in two years. The last conversation they had was full of empty promises, of visits to Zaragoza that Mapi knew she would not go on. Promises that they would get to know the child that was growing in Mapi’s stomach, promises that they wouldn’t lose touch. 
They had lost touch, Mapi unable to visit Luis’ home whenever she returned to her parents. Ane and Mikel were in too much pain to see the child, not sure how they could face it. 
“Ane.” She stood up, facing the older woman and allowing herself to be enveloped in her arms. 
“It’s so good to see you, Maria.”
Mapi could only nod, her eyes still watery and her face still red. It had been a long morning. 
She turned to face Mikel, who was staring straight forward, his eyes only softening as Mapi grabbed his hand and kissed it. 
“I have missed you both.” She smiled softly. It was a sad smile, but a real one. 
They were Luis’ parents, of course, but they were her pseudo parents whenever she needed them. They were so close, especially when Mapi and Luis were in their teenage years. 
“Is this… is that her?”
Ane looked down at the curly headed girl, her eyes softening as she watched her play with her toys. 
“Isabel Luisa.” Mapi nodded. “I thought today would be a good day for her to come visit.”
The older woman looked down at the child adoringly, smiling as she looked up at the unfamiliar adults. 
It was a bit awkward for a few moments, as Mapi, Mikel and Ane sat in an uncomfortable silence. 
Mapi excused herself, moving away to the bathrooms but leaving her belongings by the grave. She knew she wanted to talk to them, that they wanted to talk to her. 
She also knew they needed some time alone before they would be able to. 
But she did return, sitting down on her rug right beside the older couple. 
And Ane spoke, her voice soft, her voice sad. 
She told Mapi how grateful she is, how glad she is that she took Isabel in, that she didn’t even question it. How grateful she is that Mapi did everything to make her son happy all throughout his life, from buying him an extra chocolate bar when they were children to carrying his baby for him when he and his wife were unable to do it. 
Ane told her that she had given him his one dream, fatherhood. It was just unlucky that he wasn’t alive to live it. 
There were tears in her eyes as she told her how grateful Luis would be. How much he loved her. How happy he would be that his daughter ended up with the Spaniard, the person he probably trusted the most in the world. 
Mapi nodded her appreciation, sitting with the two adults for a while longer before Isabel grew tired, the sun falling down, the afternoon turning into evening. 
She said a tearful goodbye, collecting her things and standing, Mikel standing up as well and walking her to her car. 
“She looks just like him.” His words were soft, softer than Mapi had ever heard him. “I have thought about you every day, Maria. You and her. I am so relieved to see you here because I worried so much about you. I worried that you wouldn’t be ok, that you’d not be able to raise her. Not because I doubted you, but because I know how hard it is to lose people.”
Mapi nodded softly, looking up at the man. 
“I don’t doubt that you have had a hard time, but I also don’t doubt that you’re a good Mami. A great Mami to this little girl.”
“Thanks, Mikel.”
He nodded, that was all he needed to say. 
It was all he needed to say for Mapi to tear up again, picking Isabel up and holding her in his space. He looked at the Spaniard, who nodded, before placing a soft kiss on her head. 
“Come visit, Maria. When you come home. Bring the little one too.”
Mapi nodded, a smile on her face. 
This time, it wasn’t an empty promise. 
~~~~~~
She got home to an empty apartment. Quiet, dark. She could have texted Ingrid, the Norwegian likely would have come over in an instant, her warm arms right there for endless comfort. 
But she couldn’t bring herself to open her phone, couldn’t bring herself to stand up and walk over to the kitchen table where it was sitting. Instead, she stayed seated, relaxed back on the sofa with tears tracking down her face as she stared blankly at the wall. 
It wasn’t often that she was left alone with her thoughts. Not when she had a chatty toddler to look after, a loving girlfriend who spent every day trying to make Mapi happy. It worked, because Ingrid did make her happy, happier than she’d ever been. 
And Isabel also made her happy, she was the best thing in the Spaniard’s life. 
So why did she feel so sad? Why was Luis’ death still so hard for her to process?
Two years felt like too long to still be so upset about it all. She wondered when it would go away. If it would ever go away. 
His death was something that Mapi didn’t think she would ever be able to comprehend. She was able to live her life as normal again, plastering a smile to cover up the mess that she was on the inside. But it had taken such a long time to even get to that point, despite her daughter’s positive presence.  
Everyone knew how long it had taken. Mapi didn’t think anyone really knew how broken up she still felt about it. A part of her was embarrassed, embarrassed that she still hadn’t gotten over it. Was still yet to move on. 
Even as she thought it over, progress seemed so impossible. The thought of moving on like so many people had told her to do made her feel sick, because how was she supposed to move on when he was everything to her?
She didn’t sleep that night, barely able to smile as she fed Isabel and put her to bed. The toddler knew something was wrong, of course, a frown on her face as Mapi put her down for the evening. 
Isabel had seen Mapi sad before. Lots of times, really, but her mother usually tried her best to hide it from her. She would push the emotions down and far away as she interacted with her kid but Isabel was so perceptive, so in tune with Mapi’s emotions. 
She knew whenever Mapi was sad. It made her feel sad too. 
But Isabel never would have known that her mother was sitting in the same spot on the sofa all night, her mind a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions, resisting any rest that tried to fall upon her. 
She wasn’t sure if she regretted telling Ingrid that she wanted to be alone for the day, that her girlfriend shouldn’t come over like she usually did. The Spaniard just didn’t know if it would make it better or worse. She didn’t know how to alleviate herself from some of the pain she felt. 
She realised she didn’t know much at all. 
Mapi watched as the sun rose outside, the night becoming morning. The new day arriving along with the sounds of birds chirping, the city happily waking up as the clouds had gone away and the sun had finally come out. 
Two years and one day. 
Her daughter’s whining was audible from her spot in the main room as she woke up. Her daughter’s whining was probably the only thing that would have successfully moved her from her seat. 
“Mami!” Isabel frowned at the sight of her mother as her door opened, dark bags beneath her red and puffy eyes. 
“Good morning, my girl.”
She smiled weakly, kneeling beside her toddler and raking her hand through her hair as Isabel became more aware of her surroundings. 
It was a slow morning; a slow rise from bed and a slow breakfast. The toddler was still in her pyjamas by 10, her hair and teeth remained unbrushed. 
It was no surprise that Ingrid was on the other side of the door at 11, Isabel opening the door when she heard the knocks. The Norwegian had a bright smile on her face as she scooped Isabel up into her arms and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. 
“Mami, Ingrid.” She pointed over at where Mapi was standing, and it was one glance at the Spaniard that told Ingrid that despite her promise that she’d be alright, her girlfriend was definitely not ok. Her smile faded and she frowned slightly, concern etched deep into her features, 
Her steps towards Mapi were tentative, unsure how to approach the situation. 
It wasn’t that she didn’t know Mapi, of course she knew her. She just didn’t know about Mapi’s grief. She had heard from teammates that she hadn’t dealt with the death well, that she had locked herself up in her house for months, over a year. But it was one topic that the Spaniard avoided at all costs, a master of changing the subject whenever it would come up. 
Ingrid never felt like it was her place to pry. 
But now, seeing her girlfriend so… broken, so depleted, it made her regret not being more insistent in those times. Because maybe if they spoke about it then, she would know how to help. 
But in that moment, she had no idea what to do. 
“Maria…” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve missed you.”
Mapi didn’t reply, but she could feel Ingrid’s free arm wrapping around her and she immediately clung onto her girlfriend. She was desperate and Ingrid was a lifeline. 
“Alright. Isabel, do you want to go play with Bagheera for a minute?”
The child nodded as she was placed back on the floor, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge where the cat was likely waking up from her nap. 
Mapi, still clinging onto the Norwegian’s arm, frowned slightly, still not willing herself to make eye contact with Ingrid. 
“You’re not ok, Mapi, are you?”
She didn’t nod, she didn’t shake her head. Her mouth remained completely sealed. 
But Ingrid knew her well enough to recognise the tears that filled up her eyes, the way her hand trembled against the Norwegian’s skin. 
The brunette softened, her worries confirmed; leaving Mapi alone for the entire previous day was probably one of the worst promises she had ever made. She shouldn’t have agreed to it, not when she knew that Mapi would need her. 
“Ok. It’s ok. You’ll be ok, Maria. I just want you to sit down for me.”
She led her around to the other side of the kitchen bench, sitting down in a seat right beside her and wrapping her arm around the Spaniard’s shoulders. 
The Norwegian could feel herself becoming more and more anxious at Mapi’s almost catatonic state, entirely unequipped and unsure how to deal with it. 
It took half an hour of speaking to Mapi with no response for Ingrid to realise that she couldn’t do anything. A heartbreaking realisation of sorts, but one that she needed to have in order to help her.  
She knew she should be able to do this herself, she wished that it didn’t have to be so hard. But Alexia had been there before Ingrid, Alexia had been there for Mapi during Isabel’s infancy, right after she lost Luis. 
So she sent the Spanish midfielder a quick text, alerting her of the centre back’s state.
She felt guilty as the relief surged through her, Alexia assuring her that she would be there soon. 
However, neither the Spaniard nor the Norwegian could see the toddler’s tears, her quiet whimpers of anxiety and upset. 
Isabel didn’t like seeing Mapi upset, not at all. She was a happy person, usually, a permanent smile on her face, energetic as she played with the toddler. 
But she sat and stroked Bagheera, silent tears streaming down her little face with one thought on her mind. Why was Mami so sad all of a sudden? And why did it make her feel so miserable too?
Alexia arrived in a flurry, her heart dropping at the sight of her friend as she rushed towards her, immediately pulling her into a suffocating hug. 
“Maria, Maria. Come on, please. Say something.” Her voice sounded urgent and Ingrid could only watch, worry and confusion clear on her face. 
With no response, Alexia leaned back, staring straight into Mapi’s eyes. She could read the centre back like a book and her eyes told her everything she needed to know. 
“Ale.”
She frowned, tilting her head at the blonde in front of her. 
“Mapi, breathe. Take a deep breath in.”
Ingrid slipped out of the room as Mapi followed Alexia, breathing in and out slowly until she collapsed into Alexia’s arms, the tears spilling from her eyes easily as she reconnected with reality. 
It was her reaction to sadness, Mapi had realised a few months ago. Disconnecting from the world around her, unable to move, speak. She could barely hear anything, see anything until it was right in front of her face. 
She couldn’t feel anything either, but that was a more common response, something that she couldn’t be pulled out of so easily. 
She hated it, more than anything. Because when she was pulled from her state of disconnect, she felt nothing but terror, an overwhelming sadness that came rushing back as soon as that trap door opened. 
It was like her body was trying to protect her from feeling, the emotions just too much. It would just shut down until she was numb, not really registering that at some point she just had to feel it because there was no way of getting away from those emotions. 
Alexia had seen it all before and she was usually the one to grab Mapi, to shake her out of her headspace and bring her back to reality. 
It was terrifying for her too, especially the first time she witnessed it. 
“Ale.”
Mapi’s sobs had been reduced to quiet whimpers into Alexia’s shoulder after a while, her mind throwing itself through all her thoughts, all her emotions. Luis was gone, Luis had been gone for two years. She has his daughter, her Isabel who she loves so much. Ingrid was here but now she is not, where has Ingrid gone? Alexia, right in front of her, fear visible in the midfielder’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 
Luis was gone, Isabel was hers. Ingrid was gone, Alexia was here.
Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia.
Her four people. 
She felt her breath hitch, Alexia’s arms tightening around her. 
She felt the tears dripping down from her eyes, saturating the fabric of Alexia’s shirt, the wet fabric now uncomfortable to rest her face on. 
She could hear Alexia’s breathing, the sound of her heart racing. 
Feel Alexia’s arms around her, the floor beneath her feet and the chair that she was sitting on. 
Taste the salty tears. Tears of grief, fear, confusion. 
Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia. 
“Ale, where is Isabel?”
~~~~~~
Ingrid slipped out of the room easily, not needed as Alexia dealt with Mapi’s overwhelming emotions. 
Mapi’s cries were audible from the main room she found herself in, wincing as she walked towards Isabel who was still stroking Bagheera, her movements fluid and repetitive, a consistent cycle that easily could have rubbed a groove into the cat’s black fur. 
The Norwegian couldn’t see the tears that had stained the little girl's face, still spilling from her eyes no matter how hard she tried to blink them away. 
But her shoulders shook unnaturally, a shuddering inhale that had Ingrid picking up her pace and sitting down right beside Isabel and pulling her into her arms as soon as she noticed how upset she was. 
Silently, she placed a thoughtful kiss on the crown of her head, her heart breaking at the silent tears, at Isabel's defeated demeanour. 
No toddler should know how to cry silently. 
"What's wrong, Is?"
At her words, Isabel promptly spun around in Ingrid's arms, collapsing into her and crying audibly, her entire body weight relying on the Norwegian to be held.
"Mami sad, Ingrid. I'm sad too!"
Her voice was broken and Ingrid’s heart dropped at the sound of it. 
It wasn’t hard to leave, understanding that Isabel needed to get out of the apartment, that she needed to be away from the inconsolable Mapi who could still be heard crying in the kitchen. 
So she left, slipping out the front door and carrying Isabel down to the street, holding her tight as she cried, walking over to the park. 
By the time they reached their familiar bench, her cries had weakened, only releasing quiet puffs of air every few moments as she relished in the comfort of Ingrid’s arms. 
The Norwegian sat down, loosening her grip on the toddler and manoeuvring her so that they were looking right at each other. Ingrid’s frown was light and her hands were soft as she reached out and wiped the tears away from Isabel’s wet cheeks, cupping her face when she was done. 
Words failed the defender as she looked at the toddler, her uncanny resemblance to Mapi heightened in her upset state. 
She matched her mother perfectly, Ingrid thought, trying to avoid that voice in the back of her head that she would never be enough. Their smiles were identical and their laughs sounded the same. They both carried the same exasperated sigh, the confused frown and those doe eyes that were impossible to say no to. But they carried the same tears, the same cries. 
Mapi’s emotions were often reflected in her daughter, whether it was happiness, excitement, fear, sadness. Isabel was smart - emotionally intelligent. It was like she always knew exactly how her Mami was feeling, even if she wasn’t old enough to understand why, to understand what those feelings were. 
This was one of those times when she had no idea what this sadness meant. She could clearly feel the sadness, feel her mother was sad. But she wasn’t even two yet, how could she possibly be expected to process those emotions like someone years older?
Ingrid wasn’t bad with kids either. There were heaps of children in her family; cousins, nieces, nephews. She’d been there throughout all of their childhoods, able to comfort them and soothe them enough until their parents came back. 
But Isabel’s sadness was completely new territory, there was no waiting for Mapi to arrive because Ingrid knew she wouldn’t. It was up to her to calm down the child but for the first time, she was completely stumped. 
She didn’t know what she could say to calm her down. She didn’t know how Isabel felt, she was too young to be able to express her emotions, to talk through what she was feeling. 
But this wasn’t a tantrum or a small cry over a minor convenience. This was a meltdown, caused by her overwhelming emotions that she couldn’t quite comprehend. 
“Ingrid…” 
She spoke quietly, leaning into the comfort of the Norwegian’s hands on her face. 
Ingrid nodded, encouraging the child to continue. 
“Why my Papi a rock?” 
The Norwegian’s face softened, her heart sinking as she tried to subtly release an exhale that she had been holding in. 
Unsure what she was going to say, she opened her mouth. But Isabel was too quick, raising her voice another time. 
“Why Mami sad at rock?”
“Is…” 
The child looked up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears, pure innocence reflected in her eyes, her features. 
“Isabel. Your Papi, he’s not a rock. Your Papi was a person, a very good person.”
The child frowned, confusion etched deep into her features. Ingrid thought she seemed entirely too concerned for a not quite two year old. 
“He died before you were born though, Is. Mami is sad today because she misses him. She misses your Papi.”
She doubted Isabel would even understand what she was trying to say. She didn’t know when children were supposed to understand the concept of death, the concept of life. 
Definitely not before the age of two. 
So Ingrid decided to try to move away from the topic, her new goal just to bring a smile back onto Isabel’s face. It was the least she could do, really. 
“But it’s ok, Is, because you have Mami and you have me and you have Alexia and you have Leila and Patri and Pina! You love all of those people don’t you?”
Isabel nodded easily, a smile creeping onto her face. 
“I love them so much. Especially Mami. And you, Ingrid!” 
Ingrid chuckled, her laughs a superficial cover of the anxieties and concern she felt. Because Isabel was right here calming down in her arms, but she had no idea of the state of Mapi, she had no idea how long this happiness would last. 
“And everyone I just mentioned loves you too. And your Papi, he loves you as well but he loves you from somewhere else. You have people everywhere loving you!” 
Ingrid beamed, trying to make the conversation feel more lighthearted. It was a successful attempt, apparently, because Isabel replicated her smile and turned herself around, sitting back down in Ingrid’s lap and leaning into her chest. 
“I love you Ingrid.”
The Norwegian could only smile sadly, planting a thoughtful kiss on Isabel’s head. 
~~~~~~
Mapi’s head was a mess, Alexia had realised. Her emotions all over the place, her priorities set in a weird and confusing line. 
The tears had eventually ran out and she was clearly exhausted, her head in Alexia’s lap as the blonde spoke softly. The familiar Spanish was a comfort to Mapi’s ears, the words meaningful, flooded with emotion.
“You need to worry about what is important right now,” Alexia had murmured, her hands combing through Mapi’s hair. It was reminiscent of how the centre back calmed her own daughter, soft hands and quiet words. 
It was reminiscent of how Mapi’s own mother used to soothe her, nostalgic and comforting. 
“Luis is important, of course he is. But he’s gone, Maria. If you’re going to worry about anything it has to be yourself, it has to be Isabel. You have to think about Ingrid, how to prioritise your relationship on top of everything else.”
Alexia shook her head at that, sighing almost silently. 
“Ingrid will try not to let you focus on her, but you have to try. You have to show her how much you love her like I know you do. That she’s your person.”
Mapi looked up at Alexia, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned. 
“She… she doesn’t know that?”
“She does know that, of course she does. But sometimes you need to put her first. Sometimes she needs you the most. Sometimes, she needs you more than Isabel does. She wants to know all of you, Mapi, even this part. She wants to understand your grief, to know what to do when you are having a hard time. She wants me to look after Isabel while she comforts you because she loves you. You are her person, just like she is yours.”
Mapi frowned again, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fill up her eyes. Because Ingrid was everything to her, of course she was. She was the person that Mapi loved more than anyone, the first person she had ever really and truly fallen in love with. But Alexia was right. More often than not, her attention was pulled away from Ingrid, Isabel making an appearance. Maybe she was hungry, thirsty, tired. She could have been bored or overexcited or maybe she just couldn’t sleep. 
Because Isabel was her baby girl, her last connection to Luis; her last connection to her person before Ingrid. 
It was somewhat painful for Mapi to consider how these small things would have hurt the Norwegian, how they would have all built up over time, building Ingrid’s thick skin, the impenetrable strength and sometimes superficial happiness that the Spaniard wished to break down.
“What do I do, Ale?”
Her voice broke and Alexia pulled her upwards, straight into a hug. 
“You talk to her.”
Mapi nodded, falling back down to her lying position on the sofa, the exhaustion of the day overcoming her despite it only being 12pm. 
Alexia could tell the exact moment she fell asleep, her breathing evening out and her body finally relaxing. 
The midfielder had expected something like this to happen today. She knew that Luis’ death was a date engraved in her friend’s mind, one that could never pass without any upset, any thought. 
It was only the second anniversary so of course it would bring up all of the emotions that were left and ignored two years ago, Mapi’s grief pushed away by the little baby Isabel. The same thing had happened a year ago and the midfielder knew it would happen again in another year. 
Only she hoped she wouldn’t be needed in a years time, similar to how she had hoped that she wasn’t required this year. 
She had been somewhat surprised and just a little bit disappointed when she received Ingrid’s text, having hoped that Mapi finally would have spoken to her girlfriend about it, that Ingrid would have expected it and known exactly what she needed to do. It was abundantly clear, however, that it was not the case. 
Ingrid’s terrified and bewildered facial expression was one piece of evidence, but so was Mapi’s silence, her heavy breathing and her complete refusal to speak while the Norwegian was in the room. 
She was disappointed, really. She felt guilt overcome her as she watched Ingrid slip out of the room, a look of pure defeat written all over her face as she accepted that there was nothing she could do to help Mapi. 
Mapi who was an emotional wreck, who needed support and who just needed to let everything out for once. 
Mapi, who needed her girlfriend’s comfort but didn’t know how to ask for it, couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. 
Alexia knew that the Norwegian would have given it to her without a second thought. 
It was all she could think about as Ingrid walked back through the door, Isabel’s hand tight in hers as her eyes scanned the room and landed on the sleeping Mapi in Alexia’s lap. 
Isabel inspected her quietly, satisfied with her sleeping body on the sofa. She was with Alexia and Alexia made people happy. She was sure Mapi would be happy now, so she scampered out of the lounge and into the laundry where she knew Bagheera would be waiting. 
Ingrid was less convinced, sitting beside Alexia with concern written all over her face. 
“She’ll be alright.” Alexia whispered her words softly, an attempt to make the Norwegian feel better. She didn’t expect Ingrid’s eyes to fill up with tears, her head falling into her hands. 
“Why doesn’t she talk to me about any of this?”
Her voice sounded defeated, frustrated. Her watery eyes looked back up towards Alexia and the midfielder could easily see the anguish in her eyes. 
“She’s bad at talking about it, embarrassed by it. She doesn’t like to feel all these emotions so she just pushes them away. But they come back every now and again and she has no idea how to deal with it. I try telling her that it’s normal, she shouldn’t feel embarrassed but she doesn’t listen. It makes her feel weak, she said. You saw her earlier too, she just shuts down. I think it’s because she just doesn’t know what else she can do so she turns into a robot of sorts, on autopilot to get things done. And then someone will come and see straight through her and it’s like she breaks.”
Alexia’s eyes were watering, her hand coming to rest on Mapi’s head. 
“But she loves you so much, Ingrid. More than I’ve ever seen her love anyone before. I know she wants to talk to you about all this, she wishes she could just let it all out. We’ve discussed it before, what she could say, how she could say it. She’ll call me the next day and say she chickened out, she couldn’t bring herself to go through it all. It’s mentally exhausting, I think.  She used to be so confident in herself, she didn’t care about anything but her happiness and the happiness of the people around her. She was the person who would cheer everyone else up, make us smile and laugh. She’s still that person, that’s the one that we see everyday. But she never learnt how to grieve or how to let other people cheer her up and this is what happened because of it.”
Ingrid was quiet for a few moments, her eyes focussed on Mapi’s sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful, her golden brown hair falling over her face, completely covering her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. 
“Why didn’t you help her?”
She knew it wasn’t Alexia’s fault; she knew that the midfielder beside her would have done whatever she thought was right. But part of the Norwegian thought that if she had learned what to do with her emotions two years ago when Luis died, everything would be easier now. Everything would be easier for everyone. 
“She just wouldn’t let us. I regret it every day, Ingrid. ”
~~~~~~
It wasn’t long before Alexia left, leaving Ingrid with a sleeping Mapi and taking the almost two year old back to her house with her. 
They didn’t want Isabel to be able to understand what was going on, they didn’t want her to feel those sad emotions when she was entirely incapable of understanding why she suddenly felt so sad. 
So it was Ingrid’s face that Mapi woke up to, the familiar green piercing straight through her, a sad expression all over her face. 
“Ingrid.”
Her voice was hoarse, her words scratchy and her eyes swollen. It had been a difficult few hours and she felt entirely incapable of having the conversation that she knew Ingrid wanted to have. 
“I don’t know how… how do I even start?”
But it seemed she was wrong as Ingrid shook her head, her arms wrapping the Spaniard up in a tight hug as she sat up from her horizontal position. 
“No, you don’t need to. Not right now. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally and I don’t want to talk now. I want you to be ok, I want to make you feel ok.”
Mapi didn’t know it, but the Norwegian’s words were exactly what she needed. Ingrid was exactly what she needed. 
Her emotional perception, the unique ability she had to be so aware of how everyone felt at any given time. It was one of her qualities that Mapi loved the most, one of the things that was so intriguing, so alluring about the defender. 
“What can I do to make you feel ok?”
Mapi smiled weakly, trying to bite back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. It wasn’t just sadness this time, but gratitude, love. Because Ingrid was perfect even when the centre back knew she had been the opposite of that. And despite all of Mapi’s own personal flaws, Ingrid still loved her. 
And if everything else fell apart, Mapi knew that her love would be more than enough. 
“You being here makes me feel ok.”
Ingrid smiled into the embrace, only releasing the hug when Mapi’s grip on her loosened. 
“Isabel is at Alexia’s and she will be there all night. She shouldn’t be in this environment when you are so upset, not when she’s so young. So it’s just you and me, whatever you want to do.”
Mapi nodded easily, somewhat relieved that her daughter was away from all this. 
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
The evening was a slow one, relaxed and quiet in the calm apartment. They weaved around each other in the kitchen as they cooked with a practised ease, dinner cooked and plated up seamlessly. 
Conversation as they ate was minimal, the Spaniard clearly distracted and the Norwegian happy to focus on her own food. 
“I… I need to talk to you, Ingrid. Not right now, but soon. Maybe tomorrow. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say in a way that makes sense. It’s… hard for me, hard to talk about… it.”
The Norwegian’s attention was captured at the sound of Mapi’s voice, instantly nodding with a comforting smile on her face. 
“I know it’s hard. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to tell me anything.”
But the Spaniard disagreed, shaking her head quickly. 
“It’s not pressure, I want you to know everything.”
Ingrid’s forehead creased, her eyebrows drawing together as she frowned. 
“But why? Why do you want to go through it all again with yet another person if you don’t have to?”
It was Mapi’s turn to frown, her head shaking as she let out a quiet exhale. 
“I haven’t ever gone through everything with anyone. Alexia knows a lot, sure. I know she’s told you what she knows. I want you to know everything. Because I love you more than anything and for you to love me like that you have to know everything, you have to see all my faults, everything that I’m ashamed of.”
Ingrid stopped the tears from forming before they had a chance to materialise in her eyes, but Mapi could tell she was stopping herself from crying by the way her eyes blinked away the invisible tears. 
“What’s wrong?”
Her voice was incredibly soft, her Spanish lilt calming, comforting.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would change the way I love you. I couldn’t love you any more than I do and there’s nothing that will ever make me love you any less. I wish you would understand that sadness and grief isn’t a weakness or a fault, it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s natural yet it takes a completely different path in every single person. You’re not different, Maria. You’re not weak. The opposite of weak, really. I love you for who you are, because you are funny, you’re kind, you’re caring. You look after people and you’re an incredible mother. I love you because you are strong, one of the strongest people I have ever met. The love I have for you is not… despite anything, there’s nothing that I would change because you’re perfect. So sure, tell me everything because I will listen but it will not change a single thing. Don’t tell me that I can’t love you before I know because I do, so much.”
“Thank you.” Mapi sniffled, her voice thready as she nodded at Ingrid, her eyes dropping back down to her plate in front of her. 
It was exactly what she needed to hear. 
~~~~~~
“Mami!” 
Despite Ingrid’s protests in the kitchen, Isabel bounded into their bedroom, bouncing up onto the bed right beside a sleeping Mapi. 
“Isabel! I said not to wake her up!” 
Ingrid frowned from her spot at the bedroom door, her forehead creasing further at Isabel’s defiant expression. The toddler turned back towards Mapi, shaking her shoulder rapidly. 
“Mami! Mami!” 
Ingrid rolled her eyes, releasing a loud sigh and shaking her head as the Spaniard rolled over, groaning as she opened her eyes. 
The past few days had been rough and Ingrid was sure Mapi hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep each day. The Norwegian was awoken constantly by the sound of her cries or her restless movements in the bed, but had stopped asking if she was ok after seeing the guilt on Mapi’s face at waking her up. 
It was an obvious question anyway, Mapi clearly was not ok.
She had been distant, often unfocused. The Norwegian had to take over the parenting ropes and she hadn’t left the Spaniard’s apartment, helping with cooking and cleaning and the other mundane housework that Mapi just didn’t have the energy to do. 
She would say a few words over meals, and quiet murmurs of gratitude throughout the day. Ingrid didn’t know how rapidly her notes app was filling up, full of dot points about how and what she would say to Ingrid. When she could bring up that conversation that she was so desperate yet so hesitant to have. 
“Morning Is.” The Spaniard rolled over, opening her arms up for the toddler as she fell into them, snuggling easily into her mother. 
“Mornin’ Mami!” 
Mapi smiled, looking over at Ingrid in the doorway and motioning for her to come and join them on the bed. Naturally, the Norwegian moved towards them, sitting up beside Mapi and resting her head on the centre back’s shoulder. 
“We were awake very early this morning, weren’t we Is?’
She rolled her eyes as the child nodded and Mapi bit back a laugh, squeezing Isabel softly. 
“You should have woken me.” Mapi smiled, planting a kiss on the side of Ingrid’s head, ignoring her scoff. 
“Ingrid said don’t wake you up, Mami!” Isabel interjected again, looking up at her mother. “But I missed you!” 
Mapi could only chuckle, planting a kiss on her child’s head. “I missed you too, my Is!”
It was a slow day, but one full of quiet laughter and happiness. The small family of three spent the late morning hours in bed, before getting up and heading down to the park and tiring the toddler out. She was exhausted by the time they got back, passing out on the sofa as Ingrid took off her shoes and Mapi scrubbed the mud out of her jacket. 
The girl had been put to bed by the time Mapi had returned from the laundry, Ingrid sat on the sofa with the remote in her hand. 
“What do you want to watch?”
She had heard Mapi walking towards the lounge room, apparently. The Spaniard didn’t enter immediately, instead steadying herself on the doorframe and taking a deep breath. 
The time had come, she realised. She couldn’t justify pushing this conversation away any longer, pretending that she wasn’t thinking about it when truthfully it was at the top of her mind at all times. 
She knew it wasn’t an easy conversation to have and she knew that it was going to be hard to bring it up. But that difficulty won’t ever go away, no matter how long she leaves it. If anything it will get harder over time because time gives her fears and anxieties an opportunity to grow, an opportunity to overcome her. 
And she was completely adamant that that would not happen. She would not be overcome by those terrors ever again. 
She realised she had paused in the doorway for too long when Ingrid turned around, a small frown settling on her face. 
“Are you ok?”
Mapi nodded, forcing a stressed smile onto her face and finally taking those steps inside, sitting herself on the sofa beside Ingrid and taking the remote from her hands. 
“Yes. No, but.. Yeah.” 
“Talk to me.”
And she did. She started at the beginning, all the way back when she was a small child and meeting Luis for the first time. She told Ingrid how they had been glued to each other’s sides forever, how they grew up and nothing ever changed. How grateful she was when Luis followed her to Barcelona, moving into his own apartment just a five minute walk away. 
The Spaniard reminisced on times where they would eat dinner on the floor of his unfinished apartment, takeaway boxes empty but the room still full of happiness and laughter. She showed Ingrid her tattoo, the little girl and boy on the playground that she had gotten to match with Luis. 
It was his first and only tattoo and he had only trusted Mapi to give it to him. She knew she had to get one the same and it was something they had treasured. A secret of sorts, a little thing that almost nobody knew about. 
The centre back explained how he had always been a paternal person, all the way back when they were those little kids on the playground. He would look out for everyone, act all big and strong to protect his friends even when he felt equally as terrified. He was the person that everyone went to as they got a bit older, his emotional nature and calm demeanour always popular among their peers. 
She told Ingrid that she always felt so lucky that even though he was so popular, she was still his best friend. She was always his number one and that only ever changed when Isabel came along. 
Isabel who was just as lovely as her boyfriend, another person that Mapi learned to love. 
Another person who proved time and time again that she was a mother. 
So she lamented on the heartbreak that the young couple experienced when they realised they couldn’t have a child, that parenthood seemed almost impossible. 
She explained her entire thought process to the Norwegian, how she debated with herself whether it was worth it to miss so much football during what could have been her peak years. Whether she would ever feel comfortable around a child that was half of her DNA, a child that she carried for nine months but technically didn’t belong to her. 
But Luis’ happiness was always the most important thing and when he rang her up for the 10th night in a row in tears, her decision was made for her. 
She told Ingrid how long it took to convince the couple to let her carry their child, having to go through the same arguments that she had with herself only weeks earlier, having to come up with rebuttals to their incredibly valid points. 
But it had only taken an emotional monologue from the Spaniard to convince them, all three of them sat in tears as they finally agreed to it. 
She talked her through the IVF process, every high and every low that she experienced. How easy the pregnancy was at the beginning, the only symptom her small bump and minor cravings. 
But she had Luis and she had Isabel at that point, both of them so incredibly grateful that they practically waited on the centre back’s hand and foot. It annoyed her, really, so she had kicked them out of her apartment, told them to only come over if she called them. 
For the most part, they respected that, only visiting once a week unless Mapi called them for the company. 
She admitted how much she regretted that deal, how she wished that she made them sit with her all day every day. 
Maybe then they wouldn’t have been in the car that day, maybe they would have been safe and sound in Mapi’s apartment. 
She couldn’t have known that their trip to Madrid would be fatal, there was no way of being able to foresee that and to stop them from going. 
Tears started to slip down her cheeks as she recalled what they told her over the phone, how both Isabel and Luis had been killed on impact. A drunk driver, it was, a drunk driver who was miraculously left unscathed. 
She talked Ingrid through her thoughts that followed the phone call, after she had sobbed and screamed. Once the tears had finally ceased and an unsettling silence fell upon her apartment. 
She felt lost, she felt alone. She wanted to call Luis because he was the person that made her feel better in these times, he was her company when it felt like her entire world was falling apart. 
But of course she couldn’t call Luis. She should have called someone else, her mother, her brother. Alexia, even. But that would be replacing her best friend, something she couldn’t bring herself to do. Not so soon after he had died. Not when the wound was so fresh, not before she even got the chance to process it. 
She admitted to her girlfriend that she still hadn’t really processed it, that it was still a work in progress. His death was one she would never understand, she didn’t think she ever would fully process the idea that he was gone. 
Ingrid let tears spill from her eyes as Mapi remembered how lonely she was for the next few weeks, how she realised that now she had this child that she was just supposed to be able to raise. How she felt entirely unprepared, unfit to be a mother, unequipped to be able to raise a child to a standard that Luis would be happy with. 
How she doubted herself even before Isabel was born.
When she gave birth it got so much harder, everything seemed so impossible and she couldn’t think about anything else other than that little life in her arms. 
She had fallen in love with the baby immediately, guilt overcoming her at her selfish gratitude that Isabel was a living reminder of Luis, she was someone that Mapi would always have. A living being that literally carried her father around with her. 
She told Ingrid how she saw his eyes as soon as they opened, the tape over her shattered heart doing little to protect it when it was forcefully thrown back on the ground at the reminder of everything she had lost. 
But as she spent more and more time with Isabel, as she watched the little girl grow up she could feel her heart building itself back together, little pieces at a time supergluing themselves together, creating an indestructible structure. 
Isabel had been the reason her heart was being fixed, the reason that she felt like she could finally breathe again, finally reunited with the organ that pumped the blood around her body, the organ that made her feel alive. 
She smiled through the tears as she recalled how alive she felt when Isabel took her first steps, when her first words tumbled right out of her mouth. As the child laughed, as she played with the cat. As she grew up into a child, something for Mapi to love, to be so incredibly proud of. 
Because Luis was gone and that was something that Mapi would never be ok with. 
But he left her the greatest gift of all time, like he knew that his best friend wouldn’t be ok without him. 
And similar to everything else he had done for Mapi through their lives, this gift, his daughter, had made sure that the blood never stopped pumping, that every single fragment of her shattered heart was still there, ready and waiting for its turn to be glued back into place. 
Isabel had done a good job of orchestrating the reconstruction, even if she had no idea what she was doing. 
“But then you came along, Ingrid, and you fixed my heart too.”
~~~~~~
alright this was very long
i've proofread a couple times and kinda hate this but it's as good as it will get :)
please let me know what you think! send me anything else you would like to see as well.
and i apologise for this taking so long, i have been very busy with uni (as usual) but on top of that i had surgery on my knee almost a week ago so am very tired and in a fair amount of pain at the minute
have a good day
231 notes · View notes
soobibabe · 2 days
Text
espresso kim mingyu
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rewite of one of my most popular oneshots, espresso! pairings: kim mingyu + reader trope: friends to lovers genre ▸ romantic comedy (including smut) wc: warnings: 'unprotected' sex (she's on the pill tho) , oral [m + f receiving], fingering, choking, lots of praise and pet names, creampie, v. squirting. lmk if I miss any.
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[ august 2nd 2023 ]
It’s been so long since you last saw the friend group that just walking in makes you jittery. You've known these guys since high school, all thanks to Mingyu, but university life has kept you too busy to catch up.
You do see Mingyu the most, given that you both attend SNU together, but the rest of the gang has been a rare sight.
When you finally step through the door, your nerves quickly dissolve. The room erupts in cheers as soon as you're spotted, with Soonyoung’s voice ringing out in delight.
“Come hereeee! You’re all grown up now!” His eyes light up as he watches you move towards the circle they’ve formed in the living room. He’s already looking tipsy.
“Soooonieee, I missed you!” You hug him tightly as soon as you’re within reach. Chan’s voice cuts through the celebration. “Yah, quit hogging her!”
“Ignore them both; they’re half a bottle of soju away from full-blown drunkenness,” Dokyeom says with a laugh, pulling you away from their clinging. “Let’s get you settled. What do you want to drink? It doesn’t have to be alcohol if you’re not into that, though we were about to start a drinking game.”
You smile, feeling a wave of nostalgia. “Just water for me, but a drinking game sounds fun. I’d love to join, though you know my tolerance is pretty much nonexistent.”
“That’s fine,” Dokyeom says. “You can just watch, but—”
Before he can finish, Mingyu joins you in the kitchen, cutting in smoothly. “We were thinking of playing truth or dare, or drink. DK suggested it for old times’ sake.”
You don’t notice Minghao entering until his voice calls out your name, making you jump slightly. “I missed you. It’s been so long!” He moves in for an embrace, but Mingyu grabs your wrist and steers you towards the others. “Missed you too, Hao—” Your words are cut short by Mingyu’s brisk pace.
You miss the tense exchange of glances between Minghao and Mingyu, the latter looking determined while Minghao wears a sly smirk.
DK follows into the living room, carrying a tray of shot glasses and bottles. “So, who’s up first?”
The game kicks off with outrageous dares, from posting twerking videos on Instagram (DK’s specialty) to speaking Korean with an American accent for the rest of the game.
When it’s Minghao’s turn, he locks eyes with Mingyu. “I dare you to call the girl you like and confess exactly how you feel.”
The dare hits you like a punch to the gut. Mingyu hesitates for a moment before downing his shot in one go. Since when was he seeing someone?
The game continues with laughter and more dares until Wonwoo finally arrives, fresh from a long day at his internship.
The night has been the most fun you’ve had in years, but Mingyu’s secret lingers in your mind. Why hasn’t he told you about this?
Later, after everyone else has either left or collapsed on the couch, you and Mingyu find yourselves sitting on the porch outside his room. The cool night air and the city’s soft hum create the perfect backdrop.
“Why didn’t you tell me you liked someone?” you ask, trying to sound casual despite the twist in your chest.
Mingyu looks at you, his expression unreadable. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how? We’re best friends, Mingyu. You can tell me anything,” you press.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”
Defeated, you decide to drop the topic. “Anyway, it’s late. I should get going—” But before you can finish, Mingyu’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back. The touch is unexpected but gentle.
“Don’t go,” Mingyu says, his brown eyes earnest. “It’s past midnight; you shouldn’t be driving alone.”
“It’s okay, Gyu, I’ll be fine.”
He pulls you closer, his grip firm but tender. “Please don’t go.” His plea makes your breath hitch. You’re used to his alcohol-fueled clinginess, but this feels different. Your heart races, and the tension between you makes your cheeks flush.
You grab Mingyu’s leftover soju from the ledge and take a swig. He watches you with a mix of surprise and admiration.
“Mingyu, can I do something stupid?” you ask, feeling the alcohol’s effects loosen your inhibitions.
“Do anything you want, whether it’s with me or something else. Just stay with me,” he replies, his voice low.
You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the moment, but you lift your hand to his cheek, standing on tiptoe to meet his gaze. Lost in his eyes, you notice his focus on your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” you ask, as if he could read your mind.
He doesn’t hesitate. With a swift, decisive movement, his lips crash onto yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away for air, but he immediately follows, chasing your lips with his own.
His hands explore your hips, then waist, until he's grabbed one of your thighs, pulling it up to his frame.
He pulls away, this time you expect him to say that you shouldn't be doing this, but to your surprise... "Need more. I need you, y/n" The whininess in his tone causes you to reject any worry you previously have about 'ruining the friendship'.
"You have me, Gyu". you manage to say, but you're so breathless it comes out sounding like a moan, it ignites something in Mingyu You'd never seen before.
His eyes grow dark in an instant, kissing you again this time leading you into the room with the hold he had on your hips. Strangely, you're the one who feels intoxicated now, mingyu sobering up by the minute.
"Can i touch you, y/n?" he whispers, breaking the kiss.
"Please do" you whisper back. He feels feral. Now you're on the bed, back against the mattress with mingyu hovering above you. He takes off his shirt and you're blushing like a teenager all over again.
You've seen Mingyu shirtless a number of times throughout your friendship. You would always have to look away, afraid he'd notice how flustered he made you. All those times were nothing compared to being this up close.
"Do you like what you see princess?" the way he says nickname has your heart and core fluttering. He holds your hand, presses it against his chest and you feel his heartbeat racing.
"I'm nervous too, its alright. we can stop at any point you don't feel like doing more, okay?" No other guy you've got this far with before paid this much attention to your satisfaction, he's unreal.
"Mingyu, i need you"
"You have me pretty girl, just tell me where"
You start by placing his palm against your cheek, then down to your chest torturously slow following the line that divides the left and right of your torso all the way down to your clothed cunt. "Here." you bat your lashes at him, doe eye on full display.
Mingyu wastes no time, he tugs the waistband of your pants all the way off in one swift motion. "Tell me how bad you want it baby" "Please gyu," you start, but your mind wonders far off anything coherent when you feel his lips graze your supple skin. He bites onto your panties, pulling them down your thighs with his teeth. So slowly, so sensually it almost feels surreal.
Once it's off, all of his attention is on your bare cunt, "dripping for me already and I haven't even touched you yet" "let's take care of that, yeah?" almost immediately, his face is buried in your heat, licking a long strip from your clit to your needy hole until he's back up, attacking your clit.
"Fuck, you taste so good" he practically moans out against your skin, sending vibrations through you.
Not long after the constant cycle of rubbing your clit and eating you like you were his last meal, he pulls off, spitting directly onto your slit and slides his middle and ring finger into you. His face returns to your cunt, repeating everything he did earlier, this time focusing on stimulating your gspot with his fingers.
“Right there! mmh” you whine out, trying to suppress your moans incase one of the guys outside wake up (which they wouldn’t even if you were to scream, because they’re all blacked out drunk).
“Don’t stop, please! fuck, gyu don’t stop” you feel him smirk against you. Your hands scurry the bed for something to hold onto when the pleasure starts to feel like too much. They finally reach to mingyu scalp tangling his hair causing him to moan out.
Without warning, his hands and lips detach from your pussy, earning pained a whimper from you feeling empty.
“Need to be inside you. Like now. i’ll make it up to you. Promise” he leans in, pulling you into another passionate kiss, hands busy with the him of your shirt “Take this off pretty. Wanna feel all of you.”
“Good girl” he hums once you do, kissing you as a reward. “Put me in”
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by his size. Not only was he long, but he was blessed in the girth department too.
You reach for him, holding the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Once you start pushing the tip in, you’re scared you might not be able to handle the rest of him.
“That’s it, keep going you can take it.” he encourages. He glides in easily thanks to his fireplay earlier, but the stretch was alot. “Don’t worry baby i’ll make it fit.”
He gently moves your hand off of his dick where you connected and places his on your hips instead. “It’ll feel good soon, i promise” he whispers.
He slams every inch of himself into you all at once in a sharp motion. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good for me” his strokes are slow, but hard. Not missing your g-spot once. The pain turns to pleasure faster than you thought.
“You look so pretty like this” you’re unable to respond to the compliment, too consumed in how good he makes you feel.
Your nails graze his back, surely leaving marks. It drives him insane. the thought of you claiming him gets him so worked up his pace quickens, his pelvis snapping against yours.
Mingyu busies himself in your neck, leaving bites thatlll most definitely bruise before tomorrow.“Gyu m’gonna cum” you’re seeing stars.
“let it all go for me princess” that’s all it takes for you to release all over his cock.
His pace is constant, fucking you through your orgasm.
“Shit, that was so hot, good job pretty”
Your pussy clenches on him repeatedly, sending him closer to his edge. “Ass up” you obey as soon as he requests. Once you’re flipped over, he puts a pillow under your stomach ensuring your comfort.
“Took me so well just like i said you would”
In no time, he’s back to his previous pace, thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt. “Has anyone else ever made you feel this good?”
“No! fuck, only you gyu!” you can’t see him, but you can already assume (accurately so) that he’s got a smirk plastered across his face.
As he continues, you feel the coil from earlier build up again.
Mingyu holds your hand, pulling it under your body, between your lower tummy and the pillow, pressing it against the bulge that appears when he strokes all the way into you. “Do you feel me here?”
“Yes, god cumming again” he presses down against the bulge harder, adding more stimulation to your second orgasm.
“Good girl. Me too” he groans.
“Fill me up, gyu” he does exactly that.
“Fuck,” he chucked lowly “you can’t just say stuff like that, it makes me wanna ruin you”
“Then ruin me” you muster out through broken moans from the overstimulation.
Your walls are coated white, flodded with his release.
He still hasn’t pull out of you, not wanting to break contact.
“You mean that?” he says as he collapses onto the bed, pulling you into a warm embrace.
“Nah i was just kidding” of course, you’re only teasing. After this, he can do anything he wants to you.
“Uh huh, will you still be saying that when i ask you to sit on my face once you’re no longer sore?” he bites back at you.
“Shh go to sleep” you attempt to change the topic, aware that you’re playing a losing game.
“No sleeping yet pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up” and with that, he scoups you up bridal style, walking you to the bathroom and starts the shower for you two.
“My legs are wobbly because of you”
“Weren’t you just begging me to ruin you?”
“Okay whatever let’s get this over with i’m sleepy “ you sulk.
Mingyu spends most of the time in the shower focused on tending to you even though you reassure him you’re okay to do it on your own.
You’re in his clothes, cuddled up into his large arms. He can’t believe this is really happening. The girl he’s been inlove with since he was a teen is really here, right now, beside him like this.
“are you asleep?” he asks softly.
“depends” you respond playfully, making him roll his eyes.
“i’m really glad… this happened” his tone changes to a whisper, much more serious than earlier.
“Me too. i’d be even more glad if it happened another time?”
“Noted” he giggles, which turns into a yawn.
“goodnight, y/n”
“goodnight, gyu”
His arms wrap around you, pulling you in somehow even closer. You both fall asleep in a matter of minutes. your heart feels so full.
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[ august 3rd 2023 ]
You wake up wrapped in Mingyu's embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest syncing with your own. As you shift onto your stomach, you lift your head to take in his sleeping face.
He looks utterly serene, the most angelic sight you've ever seen up close. Without thinking, your hand reaches up to cup his face, tenderly caressing his cheeks.
"I wish we could stay like this all day," you whisper, and his peaceful facade momentarily falters as a smile tugs at his lips.
"You sly little sh—" you begin, but yourwords are cut off as he flips you over, positioning himself on top of you.
"Let's stay like this then," he murmurs, burying his face in your chest, unwilling to let go of the warmth.
"But what about the guys?"
"What time do you think it is, baby?" he chuckles. "They all left, which is why I was already awake."
You glance at the clock on the nightstand. It's already 11 a.m.
"Don't blame me; you're the one who drained the life out of me last night!" You wince internally, regretting your choice of words as you notice him blush, his face hidden against your chest.
"Anyway, I made breakfast for you. Let's head to the kitchen," he says, and you can't help but think that Mingyu just keeps getting more perfect.
You spend the rest of the morning at his place, showering together, brushing your teeth, and lounging around in his clothes while eating and chatting casually. Well, almost casually. Mingyu finds every opportunity to steal kisses—at first, he says it’s to check for something on your lips, then it’s to blow an imaginary eyelash off your cheek. None of it is necessary, but you revel in his affectionate gestures.
Later, Mingyu insists you stay longer, but you have plans with Jiwon, your best friend, that evening. Reluctantly, you agree to leave, making a promise—thanks to Mingyu's persuasive charm—that you'll spend more one-on-one time with him later that week.
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At the mall, Jiwon and you meander through a maze of shops, trying on clothes and chatting about everything under the sun. By the time you both concede to taking a break, your feet are sore, and your energy is depleted. You nestle into a comfy corner of a café, where you order a couple of steaming lattes and pastries, ready to unwind and catch up on life.
Despite your constant communication, there's always a treasure trove of new topics to dive into. Today, though, you’ve been brooding over how to drop some major news, and after much mental wrestling, you decide to take the plunge.
You're not sure how she'd react to the news about mingyu, so you decide to rip the bandage off all at once out of nowhere after hours of contemplation.
Jiwon’s eyes perk up immediately. "HE? YOU? Oh my god, stop! I’m going to pass out! YOU GUYS? Y/N?" Her shock and disbelief are palpable, reflecting your own feelings when you first wrapped your head around it.
You nod, a smile playing at your lips. "Yeah, I was just trying to figure out when and how to tell anyone."
Jiwon leans in, her face a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Well, now that we’re on this topic… how was it? Was he… you know… well-endowed?"
You laugh, feeling a flush of embarrassment mixed with amusement. "To sum it up in one word: heavenly. And yes, he’s definitely… well, impressive."
“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Jiwon’s eyes widen. “Honestly, I kind of saw this coming. He's always looking at you like he’s about to fall over from adoration. And even though you play it cool, it’s clear that you both have this crazy thing for each other but are too scared to admit it—probably because of the whole ‘maintaining the friendship’ thing.”
You cringe at how spot-on she is. “Okay, I won’t argue with your assessment. But you can’t deny that he’s seen me at my best and worst. He’s the best guy friend I’ve ever had, and it would be strange to end things since we share so many mutual friends.”
“Whatever’s meant to happen will happen, Y/N. Just do what feels right. I think that means letting whatever started with Mingyu last night continue.”
“Ugh, I agree. Thanks for being my moral compass, Jiwon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” In a spontaneous gesture, she grabs your hand.
You expect her to say something sentimental, but instead, she surprises you with her usual boldness.
“Cute. Now let’s go get you some lingerie to celebrate with your boy toy.” Jiwon’s lack of a filter never ceases to amuse you.
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[ august 7th 2023 ]
Mingyu's at your apartment, finally able to hang out together like you decided on the last you met.
You're both on the couch, keeping fair distance whilst you watch 'Crash Landing On You' for the second time with him.
Halfway into the second episode, mingyu slides himself closer to your end of the couch, breaking the invisible barrier between the two of you.
"i miss you" he pouts, seeking your attention.
"i'm right here" you can't help but giggle at how stupidly adorable he looks.
He places a hand on your waist, reeling you closer to him. "I have an idea of something more fun we could do"
"Mhm, and what is that?' you inquire.
"Let me show you" he lifts you like you weigh nothing more than a feather, settling you on his lap allowing you to straddle him.
"Remember what i said about sitting on my face? Can you do that for me pretty girl?" his fingers dance on the elastic of your underwear, waiting for your permission before he goes any further.
"Yes i can, but can i taste you today instead, gyu?" your reply catches his off guard.
"Anything you want baby" the pet name sends shivers down your spine, encouraging you to act upon your urges and pulling him into deep kiss.
You get off of his lap, knees against the hard wooden floor, ridding him of his jeans whilst he tugs his shirt off. He's so fit.
His dick bulges through his calvins, fighting against the fabric. "Look at how hard you make me pretty"
You take his cock out of his boxers, almost salivating at the sight of it. His tip is crimson, begging for relief.
You wrap your hand around his shaft, drawing it closer to your face. You lick a long strip along it, coming back up and stopping at his tip and taking it into your mouth.
Once he's past your lips, he's a groaning mess. "Fuck, you're doing so well, keep going."
You take him in further gagging around him when he's all the way in, stuffing your throat. "Good girl. So good for me, shit"
His hands pull your hair into a loose ponytail, using the light grip to guide you. You bob your head, thrusting him in and out of your mouth at a steady pace.
It doesn't take long for you to find a rhythm, but it's not enough for him. He really just wants to be inside your cunt, so to speed up the process, "Can I fuck your throat baby?" his voice drops a few octaves down, losing himself in pleasure.
You nod in response, and that's all the confirmation he needs to push your head closer to his pelvis. He stands up to angle his dick better, thrusting in and out of your mouth, gradually reaching his climax.
Your eyes are full of tears, mascara running down your face tipping him over the edge. "Can you handle swallowing?" he asks through broken moans making you nod again. He holds you in place, reaching all the way down your throat where he releases his load.
He reaches out to hold your hand, pulling you to your feet, flush against his body into a kiss. "You're unreal".
He sits both of you back onto the couch in your previous position. "Please fuck me" you whimper out, too horny to care about how desperate that must've sounded.
"So bold" he smirks "Well, as my lady wishes"
He works on removing your bottoms while you unbutton the silk pajama shirt you're wearing. When you're finally stripped out of your clothes, he's in awe at the revelation of what you'd been hiding underneath.
"You're gonna be my demise" is the last thing he utters before yanking your panties to the side, lifting you to align your cunt with his cock, and slowly sinking you down on it.
You moan in unison at the feeling of the initial stretch. It feels like he's breaking you in two in the most divine way possible.
"Fuck, y/n nobody else can ever feel you like this."
"I'm yours mingyu, fuck!" you manage to whine out.
He holds your hips to slam you onto his dick. His free hand creeps up to your neck, choking you slightly as he fucks into you. It drives you insane, feeling him all the way inside you near your cervix. At some point, his cock really does kiss your cervix, causing you to sob out from the overwhelming pleasure mixed with that unfamiliar pain.
He doesn't fail to hit the spongy tissue in you even once. He changes position, laying you on your back with his hand still on your throat. Your vision suddenly blurs, a mix of white and stars clouds your mind with your eyes sealing shut.
You're squirting. All over him at that.
"Holyyy fuck," Mingyu groans out. "Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum" "Cum-" Youre interrupted by a wave of your orgasm crashing through your body "-in me"
And so he does. This might have been the hottest thing mingyu has ever experienced.
"You're clenching down on me so hard, fuck. oh fuck-" The overstimulation from his relentless thrusts sends you both over the edge.
"The couch" he says followed by an airy laugh, but you couldn't really care less about the mess right now.
"You have officially ruined me" you whisper with a fucked out smile.
"Good." he smiles back. his eyes linger on where you connect, pulling out of you and admiring the sight of his cum dripping out of you. "Fuck, can I take a picture of this?"
"Sure, just dont show it to anyone" his eyes sparkle at your response.
"It's cute that you think i'd share you" he uses two fingers to plunge into your tight, dripping hole and fucks his cum back into you. "so pretty" he pulls his phone out, snapping a picture of the image he's already embedded into his mind.
"Let's go clean you up"
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
A/N: this is a rewrite of one of my most popular one shots :] i intend to turn this into a series and the first version of it felt a little to scrappy for a chapter one! i hope you enjoy!
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262 notes · View notes
chiara81-4 · 3 days
Note
hey girlie!! could you do lando norris x reader pls🙏🙏🙏 i loved ur charles story and i want u to write one ab lando pls pls pls 🙏🙏 love u
a/n: hey love! of course! I've gotten a couple lando x reader requests so I will do my best to please everyone!
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forever and always - lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: fluff, brothers best friend trope, not proofread (sorry for any typos)
word count: i don't know LOL it's a lot.
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Age 11:
you had an older brother, he was talented since he was young. your parents dumped money into his racing career at a young age, leaving you alone. when it was your 11th birthday, your family went to watch your brother kart. since then you just kind of been there, until lando came along...
Age 14:
your brother came home one day, your parents surrounding him with kisses and hugs. you rolled your eyes, turning around and going to your room. a few hours had past and you heard lively chatter fill the dining room downstairs. you were confused. did a family member come to visit? you strolled your way down, walking into the dining room to find your eyes meeting an unfamiliar pair of green eyes. you furrow your brows, confused. "honey, this is lando" your mother smiled at you. "hey," he smiled. "hi, im y/n" you nervously said.
why were you so nervous? you avoided his gaze every chance you got, you went to sit down next to your brother, who was talking to lando about some karting race they had together. until the conversation fell to a weird silence. lando spoke up "its y/n, right?" he questions. "yeah its y/n" you smile faintly at him. he continues to talk "have you seen the new (movie) yet?"
"oh no i haven't. how about you?" you queer. "me either, we should go together just, you and me." a blush crept onto your face. "i mean, um, sure."
"great, meet me outside your house at 6pm" he smiled
"dude, ew that's my sister, no way you like her." your brother disgustingly looked at him. lando rolled his eyes and continued to smile at you.
-time skip-
the clock reads 5:30pm, only half an hour until lando picks you up and you're stressing. what are you going to wear? you put some light makeup on (you can change anything about the outfit, makeup etc :)) as well as some light blue jeans and a dark blue shirt. by the time you're content with your outfit you hear a knock on your door, you rush down the stairs to find your brother at the front door.
"i'm not sure about this y/n, hes my best friend." your brother says. "oh my god shut up (brothers name), grow up." you roll your eyes and walk out the front door, closing it in his face. you're met face to face with lando. who is wearing black jeans and a white shirt.
"wow, you look really nice y/n" he smiles. you smile back, thanking him as well as complimenting his outfit.
when you arrive at the movie theatre, lando buys the tickets and snacks. you argued (playfully) over who would be paying. "lando, just let me buy the popcorn, you bought the tickets." you say "never." he argues back.
once you guys grab your popcorn and whatever else, you made your way to the theatre and sat down in your seats. "i'm really glad you agreed to join me, y/n" lando smiled. "me too" you return the smile, once the previews start, you and lando are laughing at how bad some of the upcoming movies are. "NO WAY IS SOMEONE GOING TO WATCH THAT" you cackle. lando laughed even harder at your comment, until the lights dimmed and the movie started.
about halfway through the movie, lando turned to you. your eyes were glued to the screen until you saw lando looking at you. "what?" you say. "nothing, nothing" he cheekily smiles at you. you turn your eyes back to the movie playing in front of you. until you feel lando grab your hand. you blush hard. thank god its dark in the theatre.
once the movie is over. you and lando continue to keep your fingers interlocked. until you go home.
when you arrive at your front door lando smiles at you. "thank you again for agreeing to come with me y/n. i really enjoyed it."
"thank you for inviting me, lando." you kiss his cheek. landos face turns a beet red. "see you soon." you say.
"y-yeah, see you soon." lando says, holding his cheek in the place you pecked it. you open the door and turn around to say one last goodbye.
the thing you didn't know is that you wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon after the movie date.
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stay tuned for part 2!!
180 notes · View notes
shybluebirdninja · 5 hours
Text
The Great Outdoors
Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated. Between using a rock instead of a proper camping tool and attempting to start a fire with his claws (which ends up in a mini bonfire), you can’t stop laughing. Eventually, you both end up cuddled in the tent, sharing ghost stories that lead to goofy scares and unexpected confessions of affection.
Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader
Genre              : Fluff
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The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.
This was going to be interesting.
“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”
Oh, boy.
You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.
He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.
“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.
“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.
Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.
“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”
He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”
“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.
“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”
After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?
By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.
“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”
Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”
You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”
He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”
Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.
“Logan, that’s not how—”
Whoosh!
The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.
“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”
“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”
Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”
You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.
After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.
You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”
“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”
He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”
“Oh, this oughta be good.”
Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”
“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”
You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”
Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”
You shook your head, grinning. “What?”
“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”
You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”
Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”
You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”
As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.
“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.
“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”
“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.
Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”
You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.
“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”
Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.
“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”
Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.
“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”
“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.
“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”
Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”
You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”
Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”
“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”
He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.
“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”
“Like what?” you asked, curious now.
Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”
The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.
“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.
“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”
You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.
164 notes · View notes
bbsmuts · 2 days
Text
Mistaken Identity ft. Allissa Shin
A/N: Aaaaaand we have a special guest tonight, Miss Allissa Shin! I imagine this is something of a curveball, since I've never broken away from K-Pop idols, but here we are. I can't find fics of her ANYWHERE, so I guess it's good that I get to be the pioneer of it. Note that she will be one of the only people I write about outside of K-Pop, so don't bother requesting Taylor Swift or anything. This was another phenomenal pitch from @xiaoondc, the main contributor to my current success. It's also starting to seem like my readers are into BBC gangbangs, considering the number of pitches I have and have had that involve them. Allissa Shin looks so much like Rosé it's almost impossible to tell them apart in some photos. I'm ramping up the use of daddy and of tildes in this one at the suggestion of readers. So without further ado, I present Mistaken Identity. Forgive me if I spell her name with only one L, my brain thinks it should be spelled like that. Also prepare yourself for overly excessive use of tildes in Allissa's speech.
{Note: Any and all photos of Allissa Shin used in this work are 100% real and can be found on her Instagram, allissashin}
-상훈
Length: 5.34k
Possible TW: Bondage, spanking
Tags: Gangbang, BBC gangbang, DP, bondage, spanking, 69, cunnilingus, rimming
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Allissa rapped the counter with her knuckles and traded another bill for another shot of whiskey from the bartender. She swallowed half of it, relishing in the spicy, woody taste with the subtle hint of sweet, and the burn that followed the liquor down her throat, making her wince a bit.
"Too strong?" The bartender asked, rubbing a glass with a pristinely white cloth. "I can get something lighter."
"Nah, it's perfect." She downed the rest of the shot and handed him back the shotglass, leaning back in the plush seat. "How many was that?"
"Nine." He replied, washing out her glass and drying it before it took its place in the cabinet. "Going through something?"
"Nope. Just felt like a being a little extra drunk tonight."
He chuckled. "Well, I'd advise you to be careful, Miss Shin. There are some who would take advantage of your intoxication."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
A huge, hulking black guy took the seat to her left, quickly joined by four of his buddies. From a glance in their direction, she could see that each and every one of them was not only very muscular and very attractive, and they were all wearing tank tops and sweatpants to prove it. The one closest to her had a large dragon tattooed on his right arm. She felt a distinct rush of arousal course through her, which might've been from the alcohol, but she liked it either way.
"The usual, I assume, Ekon?" The bartender asked. (I figured Ekon would be a good one because it's an Nigerian name that literally translates to "strong", which is quite fitting, considering who he is.)
"That's right. And one for all of my homies, on me." The guy on her left said in a deep, rumbling voice.
The bartender nodded and whisked away to prepare the drinks, and the guy threw a glance at Allissa.
"Oh shit, is that you, Chaeyoung? Yo guys, it's Rosie! Wassup!"
She looked over, confused, as the other guys erupted into cheers.
"Uhm...h-hi." She replied amongst the whoops. "Not to be rude or anything, but do I...know you guys?"
"Wow, after all this time you forgot about yo closest homies?" another one said, feigning tears. "Daaaamn."
'They must be mistaking me for someone else," she thought, watching them all colloquially fake being sad, during the course of which she conveniently heard all their names. 'Well...they are all really cute, I guess it couldn't hurt to play along.'
"Oh, shit, hey! I didn't recognize you guys at first!" She said in a bright tone, smiling. "Sorry about that, it's been too long!"
"Man, you gon' break a brother's heart messing 'round like that, forgettin' us." said the one directly to her left.
She laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that, E."
"Nah, you all good. Ayo!" He called to the bartender, who was still mixing the drinks. "Lemme get one for my homegirl over here too!"
He nodded and continued his mixing.
"What'd you order?" She asked.
"Girl, you don't even remember my go-to? Damn, we really ain't seen each other in a fat minute. I got all us some good shit, rum and liqueur and stuff."
"Ah." She said. "Sounds good."
"Trust him, it is good." One guy on the end tapped in. "And don't take too much, because that shit'll have you on the ground if you take one sip too many."
"Yo, remember back in high school? She couldn't handle anything!" This caused a fair amount of laughs, which needled her into speech.
"Yeah? Let's see how I am now then. I already had nine shots of Jim Beam."
"That's true." The bartender chimed in, bringing over the seven drinks. "Nine shots."
"Damn." Ekon said, accepting the drink and adjusted the chain on his neck. "Thanks, man. Somethin' musta changed since we last saw each other Chae, back then you could barely take one shot of henny. Nine shots of Jim Beam? That ain't never happenin' seven years ago."
Allissa suddenly realized something. 'Are they mistaking me for Rosé?' She thought. 'No way...well, still can't hurt to play a long a bit.'
"Well, a lot's changed in seven years." She said as the other guys calmed down, taking a small sip of her drink. "This is good."
He nodded. "Sure is. Rum, coconut liqueur, pineapple juice, orange juice, stuff like that. So how you been?"
"Pretty good. You?"
"Same. Life's been good. You ever get that modeling gig you was always after?"
"Funnily enough, I did." She had actually gotten into modeling, just not the gig he was referencing. "Pretty successful."
"Oh, so you got some bands. Nice. I got a question though, don't answer if you don't wanna."
"Go for it."
"You still a virgin?"
"Hell no." She replied immediately. Allissa didn't know whether or not Rosé was a virgin, but she certainly wasn't.
"Really?" He downed the last sip of his cocktail. "Something's changed about that attitude too. Last time we saw each other you was saying you weren't gonna lose it until you got married."
"Guess I changed my mind." She took another sip of hers.
"How many?" Another guy down the line, who'd been lying attention to the conversation said. She didn't have to ask what he meant.
"Nine." She replied.
Ekon nodded. "Respectable amount. Less than I would've expected, to be honest."
She raised an eyebrow. "I said I'm not a virgin, not that I'm a whore."
He raised his hands. "My bad, gang, my bad. So you going anywhere else tonight?"
"I wasn't planning to, but I wouldn't mind."
"You wanna come back to our place?"
She was suddenly very aware of how sheer and tight her dress was, and more aware of how the defined muscles of Ekon's arms rippled with every movement.
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She didn't say anything, but he could definitely figure out the change in expression on her face.
"Well?"
"S-sure, yeah." She said, voice wavering a little.
He turned to the guy on his left. "Yo, she coming home with us. Y'all finished?"
The other one smirked, nodded, and passed the news on while Eli turned back to Allissa, a smirk on his face too.
"You finished with the drink?"
Despite her anticipation and slight nervousness, she put on a bolder face and downed the last bit of the cocktail.
"I am now."
"Alright," he said, smiling wider, grabbing his keys, and tossing the bartender a wad of bills. "Let's roll."
...
Bursting through the doors into the cool night air was refreshing after the interior of the bar. Though cozy, it was warm and a little stuffy inside. Her steps were definitely weaving a little, but she made it to Eli's car alright. A classic '69 Pontiac GTO, painted black.
"Yo! You driving?" One of the other guys called to Ekon.
"Nah, you drive, Adrian. I wanna, uh...catch up with Rosie."
Allissa took the back seat, Adrian driving and another riding shotgun, and Ekon in the back with her. The engine awoke with a roar and the headlights switched on, illuminating the dark parking lot.
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"I gotta say, Chae, you been doing some developing." Ekon commented as they started down a dark boulevard.
She had a feeling she already knew what he meant, but she asked. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean..." he gestured to her body then outlined a curvaceous figure in the air with his hands.
She blushed, hitting him on his muscular arm. "Stop!"
"I ain't joking, man. I mean...damn."
She giggled. "Thank you..."
He grinned. "Really is good to see you again though, Chae."
"You too. What are we doing when we get there?"
"We gonna figure that out when we get there. But I know you ain't stupid, you could take a good guess."
One look at his expression told her all she needed to know, and she looked away, the thought causing a thrill of anticipation and a fresh wave of arousal to a certain place in her lower region. She pressed her thighs together, trying to stave off getting turned on, but she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering over to his chiseled torso, on which every line, curve, and detail was put on display by the tight white muscle shirt. She found herself unconsciously licking her lips as her gaze roved over his perfect cumgutter abs, outlined pecs, and massively ripped arms. And from what she could see, he had a hell of a package in his boxers. (I feel so gay writing this entire part💀)
"Like what you see?" Her excitement and intense gaze did not go unnoticed.
"Mm, yes, I do~" It might've been the alcohol fueling her words, but part of it was coming directly from down below.
He chortled. "Yeah, I bulked up. Been going to the gym a lot recently."
She slid a hand over his rock-hard thigh, gently squeezing the fibers which felt like steel under her fingers. She gasped in pure arousal as her hand moved onto an absolute monster of a cock, which was massive without even being erect.
"Oh my god~" She massaged the phallic behemoth and moved closer on the seat, allowing him to put his arm over her shoulders and pull her into him. His powerful grip and iron-fiber muscles around her turned her on even more. His hand moved slowly downward, caressing the soft round of her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped again softly as his index finger traced her nipple, her sensitivity kicked up by the alcohol and how purely turned on she was.
"Save it for the room, y'all," said Adrian. "Ain't no one wanna see that."
"Don't even lie, bro, you know you want a piece." Ekon fired back. "Homie try to bullshit me..." he muttered. The other shrugged and stopped talking.
It was only a short ride more before they arrived at a large, mostly White House that resembled a a palace, with marble columns and everything. Allissa, even being the owner of a not-so-humble estate herself, was shocked at the sheer size and grandeur of the mansion.
"This is where you live?" Pleasure forgotten temporarily, she pressed her face against the window and gazed like an awestruck child.
Ekon chuckled, bringing his hand down to her now-exposed ass and giving it a strong squeeze. "Yup. There's five of us, we all live in the same joint."
"Wow..." His fingers wandered a little lower, pulling up the bottom hem of her dress so her thong was exposed.
"Damn, Chae, a thong?" He chuckled a little more. "Didn't know you was gettin' yo freak on so much."
"Mmhmm~" She bit her lip at the sight of his cock hard and straining against his sweats. "Fuck, you're big..."
Undergoing a sudden change of demeanor as they pulled into the driveway, he pressed her against the seat by the neck and spoke in his deep rumble of a voice. "And you want that, don't you?"
"Yes, daddy, I do~" Her voice came out as a whimper, his dominance only serving to make her more needy. "I want it a lot~"
"Well, yo ass bouta get it, hard."
"Oh yes, please, daddy," she moaned, his hands on her making her wet. "I want it!"
Ekon had opened his mouth to say something in return when the voice in the passenger seat piped up again.
"Y'all! We are 20 feet from the damn house, hold off for a second!"
"Aight, my bad bro. But you," he said, returning his hand to her neck as she giggled at Adrian, "better keep your little slut mouth shut."
"Yes, daddy," she said submissively, getting wetter by the second. They all got out of the car and walked quickly into the house, followed by the other two from the other car. The moment they all piled in through the door and it closed, Ekon pinned her arms to the wall above her head with one hand and kissed her, tongue aggressively pushing into her mouth. She moaned, his other hand going to her neck, while other hands pulled up her dress and caressed various other parts of her. Before long she was rid of her dress and left only in her bra and panties.
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They backed off momentarily to admire her curvy, sexy figure. After a few "damn"s, they converged once more and she was pinned against the wall again.
She bit her lip as hands slipped into her panties and bra, teasing her sensitive spots and making her moan. Her hands, helplessly held above her head, twisted and writhed as multiple fingers plunged into her entrance, teased her sensitive clit, and rubbed over her nipples, assaulting her senses from every side. It had been a while since she had anyone, and she found herself quickly approaching her first orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum," she panted, gasping as several fingers found and roughly fingered her g-spot. "Oh god yes, I'm gonna cum!"
"Already?" Ekon said, triceps inconveniently flexing and turning her on more as he pushed against her hands and throat. "You little slut."
"Mmm, yes~" She moaned with rapid breaths, arching her back in pleasure. "You're gonna make me cum~"
His hand left her throat and slapped her face, leaving a small stinging mark in its wake. She was surprised at first and then felt a warm surge of sensual humiliation send a jolt straight to her pussy.
"A-ahh, fuck, yes, yes, ngghh yes, I'm cumming!" She bucked her hips off the wall, crying out in loud pleasure as she squirted on the many hands teasing her. She slid down the wall as the guys backed off, chest heaving even from the light orgasm she just had.
Apparently they weren't patient enough to postpone fucking her, so with little more ado they hoisted her to her feet and onto the rich white leather couch, a couple of them removing her panties and bra. Shirts were removed around her, filling her sight with abs and ripped arms. Jeans and sweats were next, taking boxers with them and leaving everyone present completely naked, and the other guys backed off as Ekon approached and went behind her.
She let out a sharp cry as a massive cock penetrated her pussy and immediately shattered whatever semblance of coherent thought she had left. The sheer size inside her stretched her walls out and caused a fair deal of pleasure and slight pain.
"Please," she murmured quietly, arching and then wiggling her ass to allow him better access, "ruin me."
He wasted no more time and started ruthlessly pounding her, loud claps on skin on skin sounding as he slammed his hips into her ass. She couldn't control the cries that left her mouth, face contorting in pleasure.
"Fuck!" She yelled, his cock reaching unbelievable depths inside her. "Oh my god yes, you're sso big! Oh yes, daddy, fuck my pussy!"
She could hear commentary from the five others, but her mind was too far gone to pay attention to it. He roughly grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, ramming her into the couch and leaving her helpless to the relentless assault on her tight tunnel.
"Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Don't stop, please keep going daddy!"
"Shut the fuck up and take it, you little whore." He leaned some of his weight on her, letting him growl in her ear, and pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her moans.
"Mmph! Yes daddy!" Her voice was muted by his hand. He let go of her mouth and she turned her head to the side to survey his body. His hands left the couch as well, abs flexing to hold himself up as both hands were brought down on her supple ass in a punishing smack.
"Oh yes, spank me! Spank me harder daddy!" He gladly complied, landing more hard slaps on her ass. The sting brought her a blissful mix of pain and pleasure that was building up an orgasm like an edifice inside her.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum!" She heard the low groan behind her, accompanied by a few more spanks, and bucked her hips back into him as much as she could.
"Are you ready to take my cum, little slut?"
She nodded eagerly, still being slammed into the couch by his relentless thrusts. He delivered another hard spank to her ass, grip tightening on her arms behind her back.
"Try again."
"Yes, daddy!" She cried, eyes rolling into her head as the pleasure overtook her. "I want all of it, give me your cum, please daddy!"
A moan sounded behind her and a second later, a hot current of cum streaming into her pussy. The feeling of being filled with his cum overwhelmed her senses and threw her headlong into a strong orgasm; a wail of pleasure left her as she arched her back and squirted hard onto him.
She got barely a few moments' recovery before all the others approached and loaded onto the couch. Ekon stepped away and let them take their turn, and after one of them lifted her leg and positioned himself under her, she was penetrated in her ass and pussy by two enormous cocks.
Nothing but a gutteral, throaty moan was produced by her already overworked vocal cords. But she noticed two more guys walking around to her backside, and a thought crossed her foggy mind. They weren't going to...were they?
Her question was answered as the feeling of two more hard, throbbing tips pressing against her entrances sent signals of ecstasy to her receptors. With little more ado and no consideration for how much they were stretching her out (which was overloading her with pleasure), the shafts of the tips thrusted inside her.
"Fuck!" Pleasure turned her mind to mush for a moment as she briefly lost touch with reality. Two cocks in each hole; she hadn't been fucked like this in ages.
No, she hadn't been fucked like this ever.
Various murmurs of dirty things reached her ears, but none of them really registered with her brain. She kept up her dialogue of submissive moans, her pleas growing more and more wanting as she got more and more desperate.
"Oh yes, fuck my pussy," she panted, yelping as the smacks pelted down on her ass cheeks. "Fucking give it to me! Harder!"
All four cocks were pumping in and out of her with furious vigor; her pussy was soaked like a monsoon, and was made even wetter by the obscenities and degradation coming from behind her.
"Yeah, take these dicks, you slut!"
"You like being filled up like this, whore?"
"Yes daddy~" she whimpered, being overloaded with sensation. "I want all of your cocks in my tight little cunt! I'm your slutty little toy, keep fucking me just like that, yes!"
More spanks rained down on her ass, causing more waves of pleasure-pain to spread through her and intensifying the telltale tingling in her pussy.
"Oh fuck yes! More!" She cried. "Spank me harder!"
To her slight dismay, the slaps stopped. But a second later, something that stung a lot and something that was definitely not a hand made contact with her pinkened ass cheeks. She glanced around just as the strap was brought down on her once more, and a hand slapped her face. Her arousal turned to the max, she bit her lip and turned back around to a cock in her face. Without a second thought she opened her mouth and allowed it to push past her lips. She sucked passionately and hungrily, ignoring the slight discomfort she felt when his length went down her throat.
"Fuck, such a good little slut. Ain't that right, Rosie?" Ekon's deep voice was easily recognizable.
She nodded vigorously and continued impaling her throat on his massive cock. Her eyes rolled back and she gagged as her mouth and nose made contact with his pubes. She flicked her tongue out to trace circles on his balls as he grabbed her hair and held her right where she was. Slurping obscenely, she stuck out her tongue as far as possible to let him push every last centimeter into her squeezing throat.
"Mmph!" Her moans and gags were muted, but had she been able, the whole neighborhood would have heard her screams. She was going to cum and she knew it, the many cocks invading her holes proving to be too much to handle.
"Phhk!" More strikes from the strap, more thrusts from the guys. "Guhnuh kmm!"
Their hands stroked and caressed her passionately, in stark contrast to their cocks brutally, mercilessly pounding her. No relent, no mercy, no caring for anything more than raw pleasure. And she loved it that way.
"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" She brought her head off Ekon's shaft and cried out to the room. "It's so fucking good, yes!"
She couldn't take it anymore. Her back arched and her hips bucked against them as her third orgasm slammed into her like a truck, her body trembling with the force of her squirting. Her arms gave out and her front half collapsed, burying her face in the couch. Still, there was no pause in the way they pitilessly railed her, driving their thick cocks in and out of all her holes.
Vaguely, she heard every single one say they were, too, on their way to orgasm, which brought her back to reality. She threw her head back and shouted out her pleasure, and her desire to be filled with cum.
"Please, daddy, cum inside me! Fill me up like the pathetic little cumslut I am! I want all of daddy's cum inside my tight little pussy!"
She bucked her hips into them in desperate need of another orgasm. Slaps landed on her face, heightening her arousal and making her even wetter, making her clench around the rods fucking her, adding to their pleasure.
"Fuck yes, breed me daddy! Fill up my pussy with your hot cum and breed me!" Her own dirty talk was turning her on as well as them, a fresh coat of slick lubricating her.
And then suddenly all four of them pushed as far as they could and bottomed out inside her, simultaneously painting her walls with thick ropes of warm, white cream and triggering her fourth orgasm. With a scream and a shaking body her pussy erupted, spraying their thighs with her own cum. One by one, each cock slid out of her, eliciting a whimper from her, and she was able to let her hips fall. Trembling and hypersensitive, she turned over and laid flat on her back, already feeling the cum start to leak out of her and drip down to the couch.
After a minute she sat up slightly and looked between her own thighs, where their cum and her juices were slowly soaking into the couch cushion.
"Oops," she giggled, letting her head fall back over the couch arm. "Guess you might have to get a new cushion."
Ekon chuckled from the other couch. "Chae, if we gave a damn, we'd fuck you on the bed."
He got up and walked away, his massive, semi-hard cock swinging from side to side. Despite having had four orgasms already, she found herself getting wet again at both the sight of him and the thought of getting fucked again. She reached down and gasped as she accidentally brushed her own clit; the touch sent pleasure shooting through her. Her soft moans did not go unnoticed, and as she fingered herself, they converged. She spread her legs eagerly, but instead of fucking her, one of them lowered his head to her soaking, tingling pussy and pressed his tongue against her clit. A high-pitched gasp left her mouth and her hands clamped down on the cushion as her hips immediately and automatically started grinding into his face.
"Oh god, yes," she moaned, eyebrows contracting up as he deftly swiped at her pussy. "Fucking eat me, daddy..."
Allissa felt her arousal and pleasure growing quickly. Clattering came from the next room where Ekon was.
"Oh yes, give it to me, daddy!" She cried, closing her eyes bucking her hips hard against his tongue. "Your tongue feels so good!"
She felt a cock press against her lips and immediately opened her mouth to let it in. She sucked on it hungrily, bobbing her head up and down.
Then someone pushed her legs up into the air, bringing her hips up, and she felt the tongur slide lower, down to her asshole. She shivered at the foreign sensation, and at the same time felt movement above her. To her slight shock, a second tongue planted itself on her pussy, and she looked down to see that the man whose dick was in her mouth had maneuvered into the top side of a 69 to eat her out. This allowed him enough leverage to thrust his hips into her face, driving his cock deep down her throat.
At that moment Ekon returned, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a massage wand in the other. Pinned down by 150 pounds of muscle, she could do nothing as he slipped the wand under the abs of the other guy and pressed it against her nipple. She moaned into his base, the vibrations adding to all the stimulation she was getting. The tongues probing her holes were very quickly catapulting her to her fifth orgasm; they had her bucking her hips and moaning with ease. Ekon's vibrator made her want to writhe and squirm, but she was helplessly trapped by the muscular body above her. Together, the sensations proved too much once more.
Wailing in ectsasy into the thick member in her throat, she clutched at his back and squirted intensely right into his mouth; the tongue in her ass was suddenly replaced by the head of a cock, closely followed by its shaft. Tears sprang to her eyes as she orgasmed again, hips jerking wildly as more cum streaming out of her.
Someone grabbed her and turned her over, sliding under her and pushing into her oversensitive pussy. Before she even had time to react, two more stretched out her saliva-covered asshole, and Ekon's cock returned to her mouth. From behind her, someone grabbed her hands and roughly tied them together. Someone grabbed her hair and pulled viciously, and Ekon slapped her face on both cheeks.
As soon as the others had come, she felt that all-too-familiar buildup of heat in her core. They reached points inside her she never knew could be hit, fucked her harder and better than she had ever been fucked in her life. Hands tied behind her back, hair being savagely pulled, ass being spanked hard, pussy, ass, and throat being mercilessly railed and used. There was no return to normal sex after this.
More slaps landed on her ass, thighs, face, and breasts, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. She could feel herself and all the shafts inside her throbbing with need for release, and that they got.
The first one set off a chain reaction. The one under her groaned and buried himself balls deep inside her, explosively cumming and sending another tirade of warmth into her. At the same time, she and Ekon both met their orgasms, another load spurting down her throat. Several streaks of cum splattered onto her stomach, breasts, and face from the bystanders. A spray of her own cum splattered the thighs of the two fucking her ass, and the increased tightness of her ass caused two more loads to jet into her bowels. And then a second orgasm in a row hit her.
"FUCK!" she screamed as Ekon's softening length slid out of her mouth. Waves of ecstasy and intense pleasure slammed through her one by one, her mind going blank as they overtook her. Her world was a haze of bliss, and she could barely manage to crack open her eyes once the throbbing in her well-fucked cunt died down.
Each cock pulled out of her holes, followed by a steady flow of slick and thick cum. When she had recovered sufficiently, she raised her head and saw that her body was a mess of handprints, red marks from slaps and spanks, bruises, cum streaks, and sweat droplets. Spent and well-used, she let her head fall back onto the armrest.
A short while later she got up and wiped all the various bodily fluids off herself with a towel and then returned to the living room, once-coiffed-and-pretty hair disheveled and, in her opinion, sexy as hell.
"Seems a lil' bit ironic to ask, but did you like it?" Ekon asked, reclining in a seat, as she flopped onto a different couch.
"Yes~" she replied, biting her lip and giggling. "A lot."
Gesturing to the amount of cum still leaking out of her pussy and ass, she said, "You boys really outdid yourselves this time, hm~"
He smirked and returned his attention to the glass of whiskey with an approving nod.
Then it occured to her that they were still under the impression that she was Rosé.
"Can I...can I be honest for a second?"
He nodded nonchalantly. "Go for it, homie."
"Well...I-I'm not Rosé." She said in a small voice.
All sets of eyes in the room roved around to her, a few eyebrows raised. "What?"
"I'm not Rosé." She blushed under their intense gazes. "You guys thought I was at the bar, and I thought you were really cute, so I played along, but I'm not Rosé, or whoever it is you thought I was. I'm really sorry."
Ekon and all the rest looked at her for a long moment, and then they all started laughing. Slapping their knees, rocking back and forth laughing.
"Wait, wait, wait." Adrian said, fighting to control his laughter. "So you tryna tell me I been fuckin' some random girl all of us dumbasses thought was our old homie?"
She nodded meekly, glad at least that they weren't mad.
The laughter erupted again, each one of them crying with mirth. Her face turned hot, her embarrassed in a way.
"Aww, she so cute when she blushin'," commented Ekon, still giggling over the mistaken identity.
"Shut up!" She blushed harder, giggling and covering her face with her hands.
He raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"
Realizing what he meant, she fell silent, a small blossom of arousal rushing to her pussy at his dominant tone.
"Do we need to punish you again?" His voice turned low, dangerous. She was silent for a moment, the small blossom blooming into a large and very wet flower.
"Yes please, daddy~"
A/N: I searched everywhere for more Allissa Shin smuts, and they don't exist. I mean, I searched on Tumblr, AO3, FFN, AFF, everywhere. So I guess I get to be the pioneer of Allissa Shin fics. Yay. This shouldn't have taken me a month to write, but wifi router problems, a considerable period of writer's block, work, and a fair amount of procrastination delayed it. Hope you enjoyed.
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youryanderedaddy · 18 hours
Text
Oleander
Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader
Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 
These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 
Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.
“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.
“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”
Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?
“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”
“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.
“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.
Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.
“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”
The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”
He kisses you. 
You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 
“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 
“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.
His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 
He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 
“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”
He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”
You roll your eyes.
“Dream on.”
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anniebeemine · 3 days
Text
sawyer and spencer- s.r. x fem!reader
spencer has no idea how to take care of your son, but he'll try
Spencer stood in the living room, watching as you gathered your things near the front door. He had heard you earlier, casually mentioning that you were heading out for a few hours, but it hadn't really sunk in until now. He glanced over at Sawyer, your son—his soon-to-be stepson—who was standing at the coffee table, gripping it with his small hands, a binky in his mouth.
The little boy wobbled slightly, teetering as he practiced his new standing skills, and Spencer's heart thudded in his chest. He adored Sawyer—he really did—but parenthood still felt like a foreign language he was struggling to understand. He wasn’t sure when to step in, when to let things go, or how much he should be doing. The boundaries between being your partner and Sawyer’s stepfather still felt blurry.
"Are you sure you're okay with Sawyer for a few hours?" you asked, turning to him with a questioning look as you slipped your shoes on.
Spencer straightened up, pushing aside his internal doubts and offering you a quick nod. "Yeah, of course. We’ll be fine," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
You gave him a warm smile, walking over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I won’t be gone too long. Just a few errands."
Sawyer babbled something unintelligible, his binky bouncing slightly in his mouth as he looked up at Spencer with wide, curious eyes. Spencer stared back, feeling a mix of affection and panic swirl in his chest. This was the part of parenthood that scared him—the responsibility of being someone this small’s entire world for a few hours.
As you headed out the door, Spencer gave a little wave, still trying to keep the calm facade. Once the door clicked shut, he turned to face Sawyer, who had now plopped down on his bottom, his little legs splayed out in front of him. Spencer swallowed nervously.
"Alright, buddy," Spencer said, walking over and crouching down to Sawyer's level. "It’s just you and me. What do you want to do?"
Sawyer blinked up at him, the binky still firmly lodged in his mouth, then gave a little giggle as if Spencer had just told the funniest joke in the world. Spencer couldn’t help but smile back, his heart softening a little at the sound of Sawyer’s laughter.
“Okay,” Spencer muttered, running a hand through his hair. "How hard can this be?"
Sawyer suddenly reached up, his tiny fingers grabbing for Spencer’s sleeve, and pulled himself up to a wobbly stand again. He wiggled, still holding onto the coffee table for balance, his eyes focused intently on a toy car that was just out of reach.
Spencer watched, his instinct to help warring with the knowledge that you always encouraged Sawyer to figure things out on his own. He wasn’t sure when it was appropriate to step in, or if he should let Sawyer try it on his own.
After a moment, Spencer decided to sit back and watch, his hands hovering near Sawyer, ready to catch him if he fell. "You got this, Sawyer," he encouraged softly. "You can do it."
Sawyer glanced at Spencer, then back at the toy. With a determined little grunt, he let go of the table and took one wobbly step toward the car. Spencer held his breath, heart racing as Sawyer lifted one chubby foot, then the other. He swayed dangerously for a second, and Spencer’s hand instinctively shot out, hovering just behind his back—but Sawyer didn’t fall.
Instead, he reached the toy car and plopped down, triumphant, grabbing the car with a delighted squeal. Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a mixture of relief and pride flooding through him.
“You did it!” Spencer smiled, his nerves easing slightly as he sat down next to Sawyer. "Good job, buddy."
Sawyer looked up at him with a grin, his binky hanging half out of his mouth, and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. For the first time that evening, he felt a small surge of confidence. Maybe he didn’t have this whole parenting thing completely figured out, but in this moment, it was okay. They were figuring it out together, one wobbly step at a time.
"Alright," Spencer said with a soft smile, picking up a second toy car and gently rolling it across the floor. "Let's see what else we can do before your mom gets back."
Sawyer clapped his hands, clearly excited, and Spencer felt the knot of anxiety in his chest start to loosen. Maybe he was still learning, but moments like this? They felt just right.
Spencer spent the next hour on the floor with Sawyer, rolling cars back and forth between them. The more time he spent with Sawyer, the more his nerves began to settle. He even started to enjoy himself, finding the little boy’s infectious giggles and curiosity charming. It was a stark contrast to the chaos Spencer usually faced at work, but this calm, domestic moment had its own challenges—and rewards.
As the afternoon wore on, Sawyer started to get restless, his attention shifting from his toys to the kitchen. Spencer recognized the signs—his soon-to-be stepson was getting hungry. He’d seen you go through the routine before, so he stood up, dusting off his pants, and carefully scooped Sawyer up into his arms.
“Alright, I think it’s snack time,” Spencer said, smiling down at Sawyer, who was already trying to squirm out of his arms to reach for the refrigerator door.
Spencer opened the fridge, glancing around for something he could prepare quickly. His eyes landed on a bowl of pre-cooked oatmeal you must have made earlier. He grabbed it, setting Sawyer down in his high chair and microwaving the oatmeal until it was warm.
When it was ready, Spencer stirred in a little bit of milk to cool it down and then pulled up a chair beside Sawyer. He grabbed two spoons—one for himself and one for Sawyer—then sat back with a sigh. This was another part of parenting that felt odd to him. He never would’ve imagined himself sharing a bowl of oatmeal with a toddler, but here he was.
Sawyer reached for the spoon, his little fingers curling around it awkwardly. Spencer helped guide the spoon to Sawyer’s mouth, then took a small bite himself, smiling at the surprised look on Sawyer’s face as he tasted the oatmeal.
“It’s not so bad, right?” Spencer asked with a chuckle, watching as Sawyer made a happy little sound and reached for more.
They ate together, Sawyer taking messy, enthusiastic bites while Spencer cleaned up any stray oatmeal that dribbled onto the high chair. It was a simple, quiet moment, but there was something soothing about it.
After a while, Sawyer started to slow down, his bites becoming more sluggish as he leaned back in his high chair. Spencer recognized the familiar signs of fatigue—his eyelids were drooping, and his movements were less coordinated.
“Are you getting tired, buddy?” Spencer asked softly, standing up to wipe Sawyer’s hands and face with a damp cloth.
Sawyer let out a small, whiny sound in response, rubbing his eyes with his chubby fists. Spencer carefully lifted him out of the high chair and held him against his chest, his heart softening as Sawyer instinctively nuzzled into him, his small body fitting perfectly in Spencer’s arms.
“There we go,” Spencer murmured, swaying gently as he carried Sawyer over to the couch. He sat down carefully, still holding Sawyer close as the little boy snuggled into him, his head resting against Spencer’s shoulder.
Sawyer let out a sleepy sigh, his hand clutching a fistful of Spencer’s shirt as his eyes fluttered closed. Spencer felt a rush of warmth as he looked down at him, the weight of Sawyer in his arms suddenly making the anxiety of the day fade away. He hadn’t overstepped. He’d taken care of Sawyer, and it had been okay—more than okay, actually.
Spencer continued to rock gently, resting his cheek against Sawyer’s soft hair. The little boy’s breathing became slow and steady, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the quiet, intimate moment they were sharing. For all his fears about parenthood and being unsure of when to step in, right now, with Sawyer asleep in his arms, everything felt right.
When you finally returned a couple of hours later, you found Spencer still sitting on the couch, cradling Sawyer in his arms. The sight made your heart swell with affection. Spencer looked up at you with a soft smile, his eyes full of warmth and pride.
"How did it go?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Sawyer.
Spencer smiled down at the little boy, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "We had a pretty good afternoon. Shared some oatmeal, played with cars... and now, I guess it’s nap time."
You leaned down and kissed Spencer gently on the forehead, whispering, "Thank you."
Spencer met your gaze, his earlier doubts nowhere to be found. "I think we’re going to be just fine," he said softly, his arms wrapped protectively around Sawyer.
And in that moment, you knew he was right.
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mattsfavoritestar · 20 hours
Text
< back_2_chris_masterlist
RIGHT HERE, chris sturniolo
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toxic!bbsf!chris_ml
synopsis... you were delusional enough to believe him when he said that he belonged to only you. fed up as one can be, you ghost him for almost a week with the success of not breaking no contact. unfortunately for you, chris always finds a way.
warnings... mean!chris, bbsf!chris, toxic!chris, kinda possesive!chris mentions of drug usage, lowkey manipulation, gaslighting, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial, kinda angsty
word count... 1488
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“chris?”
“chris are you even listening to me?”
“chris!”
his head turned to you with a lazy smile on his face. his eyes were blown out and red from the edible he took prior to your arrival. “I heard you the first time” he says. he wasn’t even taking you seriously right now. that promise he made about only being yours? a lie. you were stupid enough to even believe that someone like chris could even change.
one too many females came to you as a woman with receipts of an all too familiar pair of blue eyes in each picture. the same blue eyes that weren’t even focused on you even though he was looking right at you. he sighed, “can’t blame me for wanting attention when you can’t even give me a damn day” he grumbled. you felt that familiar burn in your eyes. how dare he say you don’t give him enough? you’ve risked your relationship with your brother countless times for this. for him.
“you know what? i’m done. clearly, you’re not even mentally here right now” you say as you prepare to leave. chris watched you with a blank expression as you gathered your things quietly with an occasional face wipe with your sleeve. as you walked out his room you made sure to hide all notifications from him in case he decides to try calling you later. you didn’t even bother asking matt for a ride, too embarrassed by his brother leaving you humiliated yet again.
with more room on your schedule, you finally had time to sit down and hang out with your friends. you guys were talking about the events that happened the past few days and planning future events. it’s been a week since you’ve spoken to or even seen chris. every time your brother would bring him home; you made an effort to leave the house or stay quiet in your room. 
your phone buzzed with an incoming call from your brother. you excused yourself from the room and answered. “hey, uh chris is gonna pick you up later.” he says. you internally groaned as you shut your eyes. “why? and he doesn’t even have a car” you responded. you heard your brother laugh on the other side. “i’m staying the night at lina’s house, and he shares the car with matt and nick idiot,” your brother explains. “more like matt’s car” you mutter as the line disconnects. you unmute chris’s messages and were met with 13 notifications from him.
sat @ 2:30am:
5 missed called from DO NOT RESPOND
message from DO NOT RESPOND: answer me
sun @ 5pm:
3 messages from DO NOT RESPOND
tue @ 8:35pm: 
2 missed facetimes from DO NOT RESPOND
yesterday @ 12am:
1 missed call from DO NOT RESPOND
today 10 mins:
message from DO NOT RESPOND: im omw 
you go back into the room where your friends were and sit down with a sigh. “what’s the matter babe?” one of them asked. you shake your head with a smile, “nothing don’t worry ‘bout it” you say. the next fifteen minutes filled with giggles and gossiping. then your peace was interrupted by the blaring bass of lil skies vibrating the walls. you groan out loud then apologize before letting your friends know of your departure.
you mentally battled yourself into what you were going to say or if you should say anything at all as you walked up to the car. chris didn’t even glance into your direction as you opened the door. ‘okay so silence it is’ you thought to yourself. the entire ride was filled with tension and vibrations from the speaker. 
as you exited the car, you felt your heartbeat pick up as the engine turned off. your brother wasn’t home and chris was right behind you clearly pissed off. you said nothing as you entered your house and beelined straight for your room. you were so focused on trying to avoid him that you didn’t register the sound of his heavy footsteps growing louder. just as you reached the door, you were pushed against it before you could even open it.
“back to not talking to me?” he whispers into your ear. you pinched your mouth into a straight line. your breath hitched as you felt his fingers trail along your lower body. “i called you by the way.” he adds as he plays with the hem of your shirt. as calm as he sounded you knew better than to trust the tone of his voice. “you interrupted my time with my friends,” you say through gritted teeth.
an annoyed chuckle fell from his lips. “baby i don’t give a fuck about your ‘friends’” he spat. his hands find your hips and pull you back onto his lower half. you scoff, “do you even remember why i avoided you?” you ask. you were turned around to face him. “i wasn’t that high,” he mumbles. you roll your eyes before opening your bedroom door and pulling away from him. chris watches you take your pants off before sitting on your bed and grabbing your tv remote. 
he walks over then crawls on top of you, places scattered kisses on your neck. “chris- no outside clothes” you whined as you tried pushing him off. “m’sorry baby” he says between kisses. you tried to pay no attention to him but could help melting at his touch. “let me make it up to you, yeah?” he says as his fingers slightly dip into the rim of your panties. his lips caught yours with a deep groan. you felt yourself lowering back onto the bed while your hands found themselves tangled in his curls. 
a gasp left your lips at the feeling of his finger nudging your clit. his lips grew more demanding, your head felt fuzzy at the lack of air. you pulled away from his lips with a strangled moan as his fingers dipped inside you. chris bit his lip with a smirk to your reaction. he then slowly lowered himself till his head was met with your pelvis. he planted a kiss onto your clit as he stroked your gummy walls.
you let out a strangled loud moan when he curled his fingers upward, barely brushing your g-spot. “doesn’t my apology feel so good, baby?” he asks. you give him a moan in response as your hips buck into his face, earning another kiss onto your clit. “think it’s time you gave me your apology now” he says before removing his fingers. 
you whine as you sit up on your elbows and look at him through your glossed eyes. “but i didn’t do anything” you state as he tugs your panties off. “i went almost a full week being ignored,” he spat. you already knew he was pissed off but you still weren’t prepared to face it. “but chris you-“ you were cut off with your own strangled moan as you felt his warm mouth completely enraptured you.
“told you it wasn’t my fault n’yet you still left me” he grumbles before making a heavy stripe with his tongue. your legs were folded and pushed up towards your chest with his head between them. you couldn’t even try to escape his mouth since his hands had a tight grip on your waist. his tongue prodded at your hole and his teeth grazed your clit. you tugged at his hair, each pull harsher than the last. mixtures of moans and apologies fell from your lips.
“s’my pussy?” he asked through a muffled voice, you nodded with a mewl in response. chris detaches his mouth from your aching heat only to replaced it with his fingers. he gave you rapid strokes as hs mouth fell open with a smile as if he was mocking your moans. you turned your head to the side with a whine with your stomach feeling tighter by the second. “so close, yeah? gonna make a mess f’me?” he cooed.
you nodded your head; you felt his fingers go faster by the second. chris catches you off guard with a tug at your jaw as he forces you to look at him. his lips glossed with your arousal and his hair disheveled from your tugging. he bites his lip into a smirk as he roughly pulls his fingers out of you. before you could protest, he shoved those same fingers into your mouth. you felt tears of frustration brimming your water line and drops of drool mixed with your own fluids falling from your mouth.
“awe, d’you really think i’d let you cum that easily baby?” he asks in a mocking tone. you gurgled around his fingers as if you were trying to complain. chris shoves them deeper into your mouth causing you to slightly gag.” you can later if you don’t piss me off” he smiles. he roughly flips you on to your stomach. with a slap to your ass, you couldn’t help but arch your back with a whine. “s’gonna be a long night baby” he chuckles.
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