#it chapter 2 x plus size reader

[isabeauwolf]

Who's ready for more Incubus Dabi?

More of our obsessed sex demon and more smutty goodness? Or should I say unholy and bold, needy Dabi?

Last week was so hectic and busy. I'm sorry for being late! Thank you for your patience my lovelies!

Chapter 1: Tainted Love and Burning Desire

Chapter 2: My Lustful Demon

I'm breaking this one into Chapters 2 and 3, it's get so juicy and spice!

Stay tuned!

[darkherolovercroissant]

Dancing In The Flames

Library

Alejandro Vargas x Plus sized woc reader

Warnings:Mature Themes & Language.

Chapter 2 of 4 requested by @shadofireshinobi

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

The walls that were once a pearly white, were tarnished with dripping red wine. I sat on the floor as another migraine travelled through my head.

It was the same stupid routine every morning. Simply wake up with this strange man, smile even though you aren’t happy, put your prettiest dress on and pretend like nothing is wrong.

Ignore the judgemental comments from those who are below you, if what they say had any meaning, then you’d simply not be above them. Focus on what’s important, which is keeping your father’s dying wish fulfilled.

When I look in the mirror, I see what I saw when I looked at my mother. A woman that is tired and in pain.

————

“Where is she? She was to be here within the hour!” I heard his voice echo from outside the old office.

“She’s coming, sir. The young lady had just watched her father be laid to rest. She’s still mourning” another man tried to reason.

“You didn’t inform me her father had passed. Why wouldn’t you have said something. I would’ve at least gave her the remainder of the week.” His voice could have made the strongest man cower for how it carried power.

I turn the knob and enter the office. The men turned and those who wore hats, immediately removed them and bowed towards me.

“M’lady, if I may speak. I wish to offer my condolences to you and your family. I’ve known your father since we were young and I know he will be greatly missed.” One man spoke

I nodded, simply afraid to say anything, as my voice was not as strong as I had wished it was.

“The wedding will happen in the spring, due to the colonels wishes. You two will wed in March, but if March isn’t a good month, he’s willing to agree to an April wedding as well. There’s a small garden where the ceremony will take place. Immediately afterwards, it is expected that you begin to produce heirs in order to protect your family’s interests as Colonel Vargas serves the military. Any questions?” His eyes bore into mine and I look away quickly before looking back.

I go to speak, but the colonel cuts me off and dismisses the men.

“Spring will be right around the corner, I suggest you prepare yourself.” He dismisses me before heading towards the door

“I suggest you prepare yourself, for I have no interest in whatever you plan. You couldn’t even let me put one word in! You just talk over me and decide everything for yourself. Well I may be a woman, but I have a fucking voice! And I’d very much like to use it!” I yell

He turns and stares at me, for once, I straighten my back so I stand taller than usual. I continue to stand tall, despite the fact that he is taller than me when he stands over me. He tilts my head back harder than usual and he stares deep into my eyes before muttering the same words he previously spoken.

“Spring will be right around the corner, I suggest you prepare yourself.” He then turns and leaves the room, but not before slamming the door to make his anger known.

————

“For the love of god! Could you at least pretend to get along! You are making this harder than it should’ve been!” Mother yells as I sit before her.

My head tilted down, because despite being absolutely disappointed with how she treated this. I was still ashamed that I am adding more stress onto my grieving mother.

“He may not be the man you wanted to marry, but for the love of god, he’s trying to help us!” She continued to sob through yelling,

—————

The moonlight illuminated the empty bedroom. The reflection dancing across the lakes, making it sparkle like diamonds.

I miss the little girl I once was. One with eyes full of love and hope. My eyes used to be full of light, but now they were just dull and heavy. The light that used to shine in them, burnt out and the hope saw the truths of life and died with it.

I missed the little girl I once was. Breaking rules, but being laughed at while chased by my father who was laughing too hard to breathe as my little bare feet ran through the green grass as I chased butterflies.

I missed the little girl who I once was. One that would throw a rock at any man who told her off or ruined her dreams.

If that little girl could see who she grew up to be, she would be disappointed.

———

“Remind me why you came to my office to arrange this? If I remember correctly, you refuse to even eat with me, cause I disgust you” he says

I decided to try a new approach, one where I’d get my point across and if that didn’t work, I could always push him into the lake and hold him down until he stops flailing.

The gardens had been somewhere father knew I’d be if he needed to find me. The buzzing of the bees as they pollinated the flowers, the wind blowing through the trees overhead. That was natures song and it was my favourite. However, it was covered in a light dusting of snow as winter has come to us early.

“I’ve invited you to go on a walk with me, in hopes we can come to an agreement. This tension has put too much stress on mother, I’d like for her to live a long life not one cut short cause of me. So I have came up with a bunch of matters we need to discuss. We get through them and I’m sure I’ll be more tolerable to you”

“Go on” he gestured for me to continue.

“First matter. The wedding. I’ve always dreamed of a march wedding. I’ve looked at your schedule and I’ve decided that the twenty fourth is our best day. However, the twenty fifth is also available”

“Twenty fourth is fine. Rather the weather that’s set for then anyway. Twenty fifth it’s set to rain.”

I nod along to his words as we head further down the walkway.

“Second matter. The children, while it’s in our best interest to have a son to carry on the family life, you will not force me to give birth for the rest of my life. I’d like a maximum of four children”

“We can settle for four children. However, what if none are boys, what will we do then?”

“I seriously doubt you’ll be incapable of producing a son, but if that is to occur, we will handle it then.”

“Fair enough. What are your other demands?”

“While it is necessary that I accompany you on these trips, I do wish to remain independent and have free will to be by myself and not constantly at your side.”

“I will agree to that. Time to ourselves doesn’t make us bad people. I will see to it that when you wish to be by yourself, no one disturbs you”

“Thank you.” I reply

“Anything else?”

“At the moment, nothing comes to my mind, but I’ll bring any upcoming concerns to you when they arise” I say

“Very well. Didn’t know you knew how to be civil” he chuckles

I scoff and shove him before turning towards the house, while his laughter echoes behind me.

———

“I seen you two discussing matters earlier in the gardens.Care to share the details with me?” Mother smiled as I joined her for tea.

“Matters that are between my soon to be husband and I. That’s how they’ll stay, I’m sure you understand” I sympathize

She smiles and nods her head before looking out towards the snowy grounds.

“He’d be proud with how professional you are. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I’m impressed with how you’ve been going about things lately.”

“I just realized to survive with men, you have to show them you aren’t going to back down. That’s when they’ll realize you mean business”

[worlds-we-write]

Sweet on You - Masterlist

pairing: Jackson!joel miller x baker!reader

summary: In the quiet routine of Jackson, you bake bread and try to keep your distance—from your past, from attention, from him. But Joel Miller keeps showing up, and when a snowstorm leaves you alone together one night, the line between safety and temptation begins to blur.

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, Age Gap, curvy/plus-size reader, Jackson Era, Bakery AU, Slow Burn, Emotional Tension, Abusive Ex, Protective Joel, Snowed-In, First Time, Heavy Smut, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Aftercare, Angst & Comfort, Possessive Joel (will be updated as chapter progress)

Chapter 1: Bread and Butter

Chapter 2: Kneaded You

Chapter 3: Burned at the Edges

Chapter 4: Sweet Enough

Chapter 5

Updated 04/19/25

Series Playlist <3

[scarluna]

Thoughts of You

Y/N starts work as a client agent at a big corporate company. There, she meets Jungkook, a man who confuses the hell out of her.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, fuckboy jungkook, insecurities, smoking

Chapter available: 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapters: 1 / 5

Chapter Warnings: mature language, a little sexual tension

A/N: So, this is something like a diary slash fanfic with Jungkook being the main character. It's something that is currently happening to me so. Stay tuned, xoxo.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Y/N sat in the back of the large training room, her hands wrapped tightly around the company-issued manual. She knew no one in this room. Fifty new hires, all squeezed into the corporate world like a fresh batch of recruits, eager to prove themselves.

But not her.

She wasn’t eager. She wasn’t excited.

She was terrified.

Not that she would ever let it show.

With her best neutral face in place, she kept to herself, making sure her laughter was just enough to blend in but not enough to invite attention. Years of perfecting the art of invisibility had turned her into a master at it.

That is, until he walked in.

Jeon Jungkook.

He was hard to ignore. Even if you wanted to.

Loud, energetic, effortlessly confident. The kind of person who could make friends in under five minutes just by existing. His laughter boomed across the room, a stark contrast to the dry corporate environment, and people naturally gravitated toward him like he was some kind of human magnet.

Y/N wasn’t immune to noticing him either.

But she refused to acknowledge it.

At least, not in the first week.

By the second week, she couldn’t help it.

It started small.

Jungkook had a way of filling up space—his energy, his voice, his stupidly attractive presence. She noticed the way he cracked jokes at the trainers, making even the most monotonous lectures somewhat bearable. He was the kind of person who could probably make the apocalypse seem like a minor inconvenience.

He got along with everyone.

And yet, somehow, his gaze found her.

She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe during the lunch breaks where she sat at the end of the table, eating quietly while the rest of the team talked over each other. Or during the moments when he’d glance back at her in the training room and smirk, like he knew she was trying not to laugh at whatever nonsense he was spouting.

But the real turning point?

Smoking breaks.

The first time they all went out for a smoke, it was just a casual thing. A group of them—seven or eight—gathered outside, sharing lighters, passing around cigarettes like they were some kind of currency. Y/N had only gone because she wanted to escape the suffocating training room for a bit.

Jungkook had been there, of course.

And unlike the others, he noticed her.

“You smoke?” he asked, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable as she exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the cold air.

Y/N shrugged. “Only when work stresses me out.”

He grinned. “You’re gonna need a whole carton by the end of this training, then.”

She had chuckled at that. It was the first time she let her guard down around him.

The next day, the group went out again, but the day after that, it was just the two of them.

She hadn’t expected it.

Jungkook had caught her right before she was about to leave the training room, twirling his lighter between his fingers like a habit.

“Coming for a smoke?” he asked, casual as ever.

She hesitated.

Going with the group was fine. It was easy to blend in, to be just another face in the crowd.

But just with him?

Dangerous.

Still, she found herself nodding.

And as the two of them stepped outside, the crisp evening air wrapping around them, she realized something.

Jungkook wasn’t as loud when it was just the two of them.

He was different.

And for the first time in a long time, someone was paying attention to her.

She just didn’t know if she was ready for it.

The first few drags of the cigarette were always the best. The instant hit, the brief distraction. Y/N inhaled deeply, letting the smoke curl in her lungs before exhaling slowly. The cold air outside the office made it even sharper, grounding her in the moment.

Jungkook stood beside her, one foot propped against the wall, his cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. His gaze flickered up to the dimly lit sky before shifting back to her.

“So,” he exhaled, watching the smoke swirl into the night, “what do you think of everyone so far?”

Y/N hesitated, fingers tightening around her cigarette. This was easy. Casual. Just workplace gossip.

Still, she took her time answering.

“They’re… alright,” she finally said, keeping her tone neutral. “A lot of them seem too eager, though. Like, they actually care about impressing management.”

Jungkook snorted. “Right? Like, chill, we’re just client agents, not the CEO’s personal army.”

She smirked, a small victory that he agreed. But even as she spoke, she was hyper-aware of herself—of the way her coat hugged her arms, of how her thighs felt too large even when standing still, of the way her stomach folded slightly as she leaned against the railing.

She wasn’t comfortable. Not really.

But she was good at pretending.

“What about you?” she asked, flicking some ash off the tip of her cigarette. “You get along with everyone, don’t you?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I guess? I dunno. I just don’t like awkwardness. People make everything so weird when they could just talk.”

I wish it was that easy for me, she thought.

She didn’t hate people. She just hated how she felt around them.

She’d spent years perfecting the art of shrinking herself, even when her body refused to comply. In school, in college, even in her previous jobs—she had mastered the skill of being there, but not seen. She had laughed at jokes, participated in conversations, even flirted a little when the situation called for it.

But she never let herself believe it was real.

Because how could it be?

Desire, attraction, intimacy—those things weren’t meant for girls like her.

They were for women with effortless beauty, with curves in the right places, with confidence that didn’t feel like a carefully curated performance.

Not for someone who had spent years avoiding mirrors.

Not for someone who learned early on that “you have such a pretty face” was just a polite way of saying “if only you were thinner.”

Not for someone like her.

Jungkook’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Okay, but tell me you haven’t noticed how weirdly competitive the trainers are with each other.” He grinned, flicking his cigarette. “I swear, I saw Mark and Rachel fighting over who knew more about company policies.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “I did notice. Mark’s insufferable, though.”

“Right?” Jungkook groaned. “Dude acts like he owns the company, but he’s literally just reading from a PowerPoint.”

She laughed again, and for a second, it felt normal.

Like she wasn’t overthinking every single thing.

Like she wasn’t hyper-aware of her body, of the space she took up, of the fact that she wasn’t the type of girl who ended up alone outside with a guy like him.

Because that’s what Jungkook was.

The kind of guy who was too attractive for his own good. The kind of guy who never had to second-guess himself. The kind of guy who could be loud and take up space and be seen without shame.

And the worst part?

She wanted to think about him that way.

She wanted to let herself have that.

To allow her mind to wander into thoughts that she had long denied herself—fantasies she had always buried under layers of self-doubt and self-disgust.

But the moment they surfaced, shame followed.

Because that wasn’t for her.

That wasn’t allowed.

She didn’t deserve to feel that way about herself.

Or about anyone.

Jungkook exhaled one last stream of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette on the railing. “Wanna head back in?”

Y/N nodded quickly, eager to escape her own thoughts.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

As they walked back, she couldn’t help but wonder.

If Jungkook saw her the way she saw herself…

Or if, somehow, impossibly, he saw something else.

The training room buzzed with idle chatter, the afternoon slump creeping in as people half-listened to the trainer drone on about client retention strategies. Y/N sat in her usual spot, close to the back, where she could blend in without looking like she was actively avoiding people.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no such concerns.

He had claimed the seat right behind her, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking effortlessly comfortable as if he owned the damn place. It had become a pattern over the past week—him choosing to sit near her, striking up random conversations, joking around like it was second nature.

She told herself it was nothing.

That it meant nothing.

Just Jungkook being Jungkook.

The way he was with everyone.

But then, the senior colleague walked in.

A woman from another department—older, energetic, and always in high spirits. She clapped her hands together, getting everyone's attention.

"Alright, guys! I know work can be exhausting, but let's put some good energy out there!" she announced. "Let’s do a little manifestation exercise. I’m gonna type out a few names—yours, mine—and we’ll manifest success, abundance, and money. Sound good?"

A few people chuckled, others nodded along.

Y/N shifted in her seat.

She never liked being called on, but since everyone was volunteering their names, she figured she should do the same.

"Y/N," she said softly, lifting her hand slightly.

Before she could say her last name, Jungkook’s voice cut through the room—clear, loud, and so damn casual that it took her brain a second to process.

"Jungkook's girlfriend."

Silence.

Then—laughter.

A few of their colleagues snickered, some making teasing "Ooooh" sounds like a bunch of high schoolers, and Y/N felt her entire body seize up.

Her face heated instantly.

Jungkook just grinned, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek like he was so pleased with himself.

The senior colleague chuckled, playing along. "Oh? Should I type that in?"

"Manifest it!" someone from across the room called out, making everyone laugh harder.

Y/N forced out a dry laugh, willing herself to stay composed. "Oh my god, shut up," she muttered under her breath, but Jungkook heard.

He leaned forward slightly, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence behind her.

"What?" he teased, voice low, just for her. "Wouldn't be the worst thing to manifest."

She refused to turn around.

Refused to acknowledge whatever the hell that meant.

Refused to let her mind go where it wanted to go.

It was a joke.

Just a joke.

Just Jungkook being… Jungkook.

Later that afternoon, Y/N found herself outside with a few of the girls from the office, their usual smoking spot tucked away from the main entrance. Jungkook wasn’t there—off doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t making her life unnecessarily difficult.

She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, grateful for the quiet.

Until one of the girls, Mina, smirked at her.

“So,” she started, her voice teasing, “you and Jungkook, huh?”

Y/N’s heart nearly stopped.

She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on. He was just messing around.”

Another girl, Hana, raised an eyebrow. “Was he, though?”

“Yes!” Y/N insisted, but Mina wasn’t convinced.

“He does flirt with you a lot,” she pointed out, taking a drag of her cigarette.

Y/N stiffened. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Oh my god, are you blind?” Hana laughed. “He’s always around you.”

“That’s just because we started at the same time,” Y/N reasoned. “He’s like that with everyone.”

Mina hummed. “Not really. He jokes with everyone, sure, but have you noticed how close he sits to you?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“Seriously,” Hana chimed in. “When we’re in the training room, he’s always scooting closer. Like, unnecessarily close.”

Mina nodded. “Yeah. And whenever he talks to you, he leans in just enough.”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted.

They were wrong.

They had to be wrong.

Because if they weren’t—if there was even a chance that Jungkook did flirt with her—then what?

Then she’d have to consider the possibility that someone like him could see someone like her that way.

And that was dangerous.

Because she knew better.

She knew her place.

She wasn’t the kind of girl men leaned into.

She wasn’t the kind of girl men scooted closer to.

She wasn’t the kind of girl men flirted with—at least, not seriously.

Not with any real intention.

And yet…

She thought back to the way he had said it.

"Jungkook’s girlfriend."

The way his voice had wrapped around the words so easily.

She shook her head, exhaling sharply.

“Nope. Not reading into this,” she muttered. “It was a joke.”

Mina and Hana exchanged a look, clearly amused.

“Whatever you say,” Mina said with a knowing smile.

Y/N took another slow drag of her cigarette, letting the smoke settle in her lungs.

She wouldn’t let herself get caught up in delusions.

Because if she let herself believe—even for a second—that Jungkook could actually be interested in her…

Then she wouldn’t know what to do when reality reminded her that he never would be.

A few days had passed since the whole “Jungkook’s girlfriend” joke, and Y/N had done everything in her power to push it out of her mind.

It was nothing. Just him being playful, just the kind of thing someone like him could say without thinking twice.

She shouldn’t be thinking about it.

And yet, she still found herself too aware of him.

Of how he always ended up near her. Of how he leaned in when he talked. Of how she caught him looking at her sometimes—not in a mocking way, not in a wow, she’s huge way, but in a way that she couldn’t figure out.

It made her stomach twist.

It made her hope.

And that was dangerous.

Because hope was something she didn’t allow herself to have.

So, when the group went out for a smoke again, she tried to keep her distance.

The usual crowd was there—Jungkook, Mina, Hana, a few of the guys from their team. Lighters flicked, cigarettes lit, and the casual flow of conversation filled the crisp air.

Jungkook was in the middle of telling some stupid story, something about a girl he’d been with last weekend. Y/N tried not to listen too closely, tried not to let the words settle too deep.

Then he said it.

“I like pretty girls with fuller lips,” he mused, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “Y’know, the ones who’ve had some work done. Looks so good.”

Y/N felt herself stiffen.

He wasn’t even talking to her, wasn’t looking at her when he said it. But the words hit anyway, like a cold slap to the face.

She turned slightly, watching as he took another drag of his cigarette, completely unaware of how her mind had just flipped on itself.

Mina smirked. “Oh, so you like the Instagram model type?”

Jungkook shrugged, grinning. “I mean, yeah. I like a girl who knows how to enhance what she’s got.”

“Yeah? And how many of those girls are you seeing?” one of the guys teased.

Jungkook chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t keep count, man. Just having fun.”

And that was it.

That was all Y/N needed to hear.

She took a slow step back, distancing herself from the conversation, suddenly feeling like an idiot for ever letting her mind wander in the first place.

Oh, he definitely isn’t into me.

Why was I even thinking about it?

The relief was almost immediate—like a weight lifting off her chest. Because now she had proof. Now she could shove away any lingering thoughts, any ridiculous ideas that maybe, maybe, there was something in the way he looked at her.

Because there wasn’t.

Jungkook liked confident girls. The kind who knew they were beautiful. The kind who walked into a room and owned it. The kind who got their lips done because they knew people would be looking at them.

And Y/N?

She barely wanted to be perceived.

She was nothing like the women he wanted.

And she never would be.

So she took another slow drag of her cigarette, let the smoke settle deep in her lungs, and decided that whatever she had been feeling before—

It was over.

The conversation had moved on.

Jungkook’s words about his type had already sunk into Y/N’s mind like a stone in deep water, and she had done her best to detach herself from it.

She was good at that—convincing herself not to care.

But then, casually, almost like an afterthought, he said something that made her pause.

“Yeah, I was in a relationship for four years,” he admitted, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

Y/N glanced at him before she could stop herself.

He had never mentioned that before.

“Wait,” Mina blinked, interested. “You? In a serious relationship?”

Jungkook chuckled. “Yeah. Long time, huh?”

“What happened?” one of the guys asked.

Jungkook shrugged. “It just ended. That’s all.”

Something in his tone told Y/N that wasn’t all, but she didn’t ask.

It wasn’t her place to.

And that was it. The topic drifted, people moved on, and she told herself she wouldn’t think about it.

But later—when it was just the two of them outside, the others having already gone back in—he brought it up again.

Y/N shivered slightly, rubbing her arms for warmth as she exhaled smoke into the cold night air. She had stayed behind for one last cigarette before heading back in, and somehow, Jungkook had done the same.

Now it was just them.

Quiet. No distractions.

And then, out of nowhere—

“I think I’m ready for something serious again.”

She turned to look at him, caught off guard.

His eyes weren’t on her. He was gazing at the ground, his cigarette between his fingers, expression unreadable.

Y/N swallowed. “You mean… a relationship?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

Jungkook—the same guy who had just admitted to sleeping with countless women, the same guy who had laughed about not keeping count—wanted to be in a relationship?

“You said you were with someone for four years,” she said carefully. “What happened?”

He was quiet for a moment, then sighed.

“I was loyal to her,” he said simply. “But she cheated on me.”

Y/N felt something twist in her stomach.

She hadn’t expected that.

He took another slow drag, exhaling before speaking again. “Before I met her, I slept around a lot. Just… had fun, you know? And after she cheated, I guess I just went back to that.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Except now, I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

Y/N stayed silent, absorbing his words.

She shouldn’t be feeling anything about this.

She shouldn’t care.

But for some reason, the way he said it—the way he admitted it, so bluntly—it made her uneasy.

Jungkook glanced at her then, eyes dark under the dim light. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?” she murmured.

“I don’t sleep next to them,” he said. “After we’re done, I leave. Or I ask them to.” He tilted his head slightly. “I just… I don’t like being next to someone I have no feelings for.”

Y/N’s pulse jumped.

She didn’t know why, but something about the way he said it, about the way his voice lowered just slightly, sent a strange heat crawling up her spine.

She forced a chuckle, trying to keep it light. “Wow. Such a gentleman.”

Jungkook smirked, flicking his cigarette away. “I never said I was a good guy, Y/N.”

Her breath hitched slightly.

The way he was looking at her now—like he was studying her, like he was waiting for something—was making it hard to breathe.

The tension was thick.

And she hated it.

Because she knew her place.

She knew she wasn’t the kind of girl men looked at like that.

And yet, as Jungkook’s gaze lingered, as the silence stretched between them, she found herself struggling to remember why.

Y/N didn’t know what to say.

The way Jungkook was looking at her, the weight of the conversation—it was too much.

She wasn’t used to this kind of talk.

She wasn’t used to him like this.

He was always loud, always playful, always joking around, but now… now he was just raw. Unfiltered. And she didn’t know what to do with it.

So, finally, she forced herself to ask, “Then… what are you looking for in a relationship?”

Jungkook exhaled, thinking for a moment before answering.

“I’ve lowered my standards,” he admitted, his tone casual, but there was something sharp beneath it.

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I used to have all these ideas of the perfect girl,” he said, leaning against the railing. “But now? I just want someone mature. Smart. Someone who actually knows how to communicate instead of just expecting things.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, trying to understand.

Jungkook sighed. “The girls I’m with now… they only care about their nails, their hair, their outfits—girly shit like that. And I don’t mind it, but sometimes I talk to them, and it’s like—” he snapped his fingers “—nothing. Zero brain capacity.”

Y/N blinked.

She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Part of her wanted to laugh, to tell him he sounded ridiculous, but another part of her was just… confused.

Because he was acting like he wanted something real. Something deep.

And that didn’t make sense.

Not coming from him.

Not after everything he had just told her.

“So,” she started slowly, “you want someone who actually understands you?”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah.”

Y/N hesitated, shifting slightly on her feet. “And what kind of boyfriend are you?”

Jungkook smirked at that, running a hand through his hair before answering.

“I don’t hold onto people too tight,” he said simply. “I’m not a jealous guy. I don’t believe in that possessive bullshit. If I’m with someone, it’s because I trust them. They’re their own person, I’m my own person. We have different friends, different lives.”

He paused for a second, then gave her an example.

“Like, let’s say we’re together,” he said, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.

She felt her breath hitch, but he didn’t notice.

Or maybe he did.

But he continued anyway.

“If we’re together, and we’re out somewhere, and some guy starts checking you out,” he said, “I wouldn’t freak out. I wouldn’t get mad. Because, at the end of the day, I know you’re mine. That’s it. Simple.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted.

Because none of that should have meant anything.

And yet, her mind clung to a single, ridiculous thought.

Some guy checking me out?

She almost wanted to laugh.

Because that would never happen.

She wasn’t the type of girl men looked at like that.

But the way Jungkook had said it—so effortlessly, like it was a completely normal scenario—made something strange bloom in her chest.

It made her want to believe it.

Just for a second.

Just to see what it would feel like.

But she couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

So, instead, she forced herself to focus on his words.

“I think jealousy is unbelievably stupid,” she admitted, her voice quieter than before. “If there’s trust, care, and love… then what’s the point?”

Jungkook hummed, considering her answer.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Exactly.”

Silence stretched between them.

Something unspoken lingered in the air—thick, heavy, impossible to ignore.

Y/N’s mind was racing, trying to make sense of this, trying to convince herself that none of it meant anything.

But then Jungkook looked at her again.

And suddenly, she wasn’t so sure.

Y/N had been trying to avoid the weight of Jungkook’s words, trying to brush them off like they meant nothing, but then—

“You have pretty eyes.”

She froze.

The words came out so casually, so effortlessly, like he hadn’t even thought twice before saying them. But Y/N had never been told that before.

Not in a way that mattered.

Not in a way that wasn’t followed by some joke, some empty compliment thrown her way to be nice.

She kept her expression neutral, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before giving him a skeptical glance. “What?”

Jungkook leaned against the railing, looking at her—not through her, not past her, but at her.

“I said you have pretty eyes.” His gaze flickered to her glasses. “Why are you hiding them behind those?”

Y/N’s stomach clenched.

Her fingers instinctively twitched at the frame of her glasses, but she didn’t dare remove them.

She needed them.

Not just to see, but to conceal.

They were her safety net, a barrier between herself and the world—a world that never really saw her, that never wanted to see her.

She forced out a chuckle, shaking her head. “I’m not hiding anything. I just need them.”

Jungkook didn’t push, but he didn’t look convinced either.

He just took another drag of his cigarette, watching her through the smoke.

Y/N’s mind spiraled.

Because that was just it, wasn’t it?

They were too different.

They were from completely different worlds.

Jungkook was charming, effortless, someone who moved through life with ease. He surrounded himself with people who were just like him—beautiful, confident, carefree.

And her?

She barely wanted to be perceived.

Even if, in some ridiculous, alternate universe, they were together… she’d never fit into his world.

His friends wouldn’t understand her.

She’d always be second-guessing herself, always feeling like the odd one out, always waiting for someone to question why Jungkook was with her in the first place.

The thought settled deep inside her chest, heavy and painful.

Because even if she wanted to believe there was something here, something small and unspoken—

It didn’t matter.

It never would.

The days without Jungkook felt different.

He had taken some vacation leave, and Y/N told herself it was nice to have a break from him.

No teasing remarks.

No lingering stares.

No reason for her stupid, ridiculous thoughts to resurface.

But the office felt… emptier.

It wasn’t just that Jungkook was loud, that he filled the room with his energy. It was something else, something she didn’t want to name.

She wasn’t supposed to miss his presence.

She wasn’t supposed to care.

But she found herself noticing his absence anyway.

And then—he came back.

And everything felt different.

Not because he acted differently.

But because now, every time she saw him, he was on his phone.

Texting.

Talking.

Always busy, always distracted, always somewhere else.

He’d laugh at his screen, fingers flying over the keyboard, sometimes whispering something to his male friends, chuckling under his breath.

And Y/N knew.

She knew.

He was talking to them.

The girls.

The ones he slept with. The ones who fit into his world, who had the kind of beauty that turned heads.

And maybe, before, she could have convinced herself that none of it mattered.

But after that night—after his words, after the way he had looked at her—

It did matter.

And that was the worst part.

Y/N sat across from her best friend, Luna, stirring her iced coffee absently as she tried to figure out how to explain the mess inside her head.

Luna, being a psychologist, always had a way of cutting through her bullshit. It was annoying, but Y/N knew she needed it.

“So let me get this straight,” Luna leaned forward, crossing her arms. “You have a thing for this guy—”

“I don’t have a thing for him,” Y/N interrupted quickly.

Luna gave her a flat look. “Okay. You don’t have a thing for him. But you’re clearly affected by him.”

Y/N sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “… Maybe a little.”

Luna smirked. “Thought so. Go on.”

Y/N hesitated before continuing. “It’s just… sometimes it feels like he sees me. Like he says things that catch me off guard, things I’m not used to hearing.”

“Like?”

Y/N sighed. “Like telling me I have pretty eyes and asking why I hide behind my glasses.”

Luna’s brows lifted slightly. “And that bothers you because…?”

“Because he’s him,” Y/N exhaled sharply. “Because I don’t fit in his world, Luna. I mean—he literally sleeps with different girls all the time. He’s always on his phone texting them. And when he does talk about relationships, it’s like—he wants someone mature, someone who understands him, but at the same time, he surrounds himself with the opposite.”

Luna tilted her head. “So what’s the real problem here?”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Luna leaned back in her chair, studying her. “The way I see it, you’re not upset about Jungkook himself. You’re upset because, for the first time, you’re actually considering the possibility that someone like him could see you in a way you’ve never allowed yourself to be seen.”

Y/N froze.

That hit too deep, too fast.

Luna continued. “You’ve spent so long believing that you don’t belong in certain spaces, that men like him would never look at you in that way, that even the idea of it makes you uncomfortable. So now, when something happens that contradicts that belief—like him telling you that you’re beautiful in some way—you panic. Because it doesn’t fit the story you’ve told yourself.”

Y/N stared at her drink, feeling her throat tighten.

She wanted to argue.

She wanted to say Luna was wrong.

But she wasn’t.

Because it was true.

Y/N had spent years convincing herself that attraction, desire, and romance were things meant for other women.

Women who were smaller.

Women who fit in.

So when someone like Jungkook—someone who shouldn’t even notice her—said something that made her feel seen, she didn’t know what to do with it.

It hurt more than it should.

Because even if, in some impossible, alternate reality, Jungkook did look at her like that—what then?

She still wouldn’t belong in his world.

She still wouldn’t fit.

And that thought burned more than she wanted to admit.

Luna sighed, her voice softer now. “Look, I’m not saying he’s in love with you or anything. Maybe he’s just naturally flirty, maybe he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. But Y/N… you deserve to stop hiding. Whether it’s him or someone else, you deserve to be seen.”

Y/N swallowed hard, gripping her coffee cup a little tighter.

She didn’t know if she was ready for that.

But a part of her—a tiny, fragile part—was starting to wonder if maybe, maybe, Luna was right.

Avoiding Jungkook was easier said than done.

Y/N told herself it was for the best—that she needed space, that she was just overthinking things, that none of it mattered in the grand scheme of things.

So, she distanced herself.

She stopped going for smoke breaks when she knew he’d be there.

She started sitting on the opposite side of the training room.

She spent more time with her other colleagues, forcing herself to engage in conversations and laugh at jokes she barely paid attention to.

And for the most part, it worked.

Jungkook was always surrounded by people anyway. He was always talking, always laughing, always moving. He barely even noticed she was keeping her distance.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

But then there were moments—small, fleeting ones—where she could feel his eyes on her.

When she’d be chatting with Mina and the others, laughing at something ridiculous, and suddenly, she’d catch the slightest shift in the air.

When she’d glance up just in time to see Jungkook looking at her across the room, brows slightly furrowed, like he was trying to figure something out.

But he never said anything.

And neither did she.

She just kept pulling away, convincing herself that it was the right thing to do.

That she wasn’t meant to be part of his world.

That she was better off staying exactly where she was.

[zepskies]

IF I STAY || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: This two-part mini series is for @redhoodieone, a lovely new member of my Patreon!

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Firefighter!Dean, Firefighter!Benny, lawyer!Sam, (background Saileen), thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort, meet cute, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, and much, much more... ❤️‍🔥

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Chapters:

✦ Part 1: Fools Rush In

✦ Part 2: It's Now or Never

✦ Epilogue: Soul Surrender

⋆˙⟡ Series Complete!

⋆˙⟡ Want to get notified when new stories drop? Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. ❤️

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005

[lologoinsolo]

In The Shadows

You took your bike and drove when you heard the news. Desperate to get away and not see or talk to anyone. Running from your problems was always easy for you. You just didn’t think that running away would’ve lead you here… There’s rules you have to abide by now. Rules that’ll keep you alive another day.

Don’t ever go outside at night, don’t open the door and keep it locked, don’t open the windows. In fact, keep the curtains closed and nail the windows down. Most importantly though, no matter what you hear or think you hear. You should never, ever—

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Let me in.” Knock… Knock... “Come on, open the door.”

(Inspired by the series FROM, a horror television series wrapped up in mystery and drama. I’m taking A LOT of creative liberties here and so it’s not going to be exactly like the series. Musically inspired by Untitled #9, I listen to it as I write to help me set the mood!!)

MDNI 18+ ONLY!! This chapter series will include Murder, Horror, Body Mutilation, Cannibalism, violence, Suicidal ideation and tendencies, size differences, size kink, Rape, Consent Non-Consent, stabbings, Non-Consensual Touching, forced orgasms, biting, Blood, prey/predator, and most likely more. I will write the tags appropriately for each chapter!

This is Authors first try at writing horror and suspicion. I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I’m taking a crack at this.

Reader is Female with She/Her pronouns and I am writing her in mind of her being FAT/PLUS SIZE

This is a monster141 x FatFemReader and when gets time for the fucking it will be nasty. Certified Monsterfucker here

~For Your Reading Pleasure~

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Updates Every Sunday or Monday!!

Main Masterlist

Tap. Tap. Tap. “I know you’re in there. Step outside, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” Tap. Tap. Tap.

[ldysmfrst]

Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.

This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

It's Time to Meet the Bangtan Pack

Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early

Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.

Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting

Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.

Chapter 3 - Following Instincts

Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.

Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space

Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.

Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)

Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.

Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You

Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.

Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke

After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?

Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.

Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)

It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.

Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction

After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member

Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.

Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.

Chapter 13 - Shall we?

It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?

Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.

WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜

Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts

Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.

American Mate (16) - We are Alphas

Bangtan Pack discusses what to do next, followed by Namjoon's attempt to correct things.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content, and have early release benefits for each chapter.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reader Asks

Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?

How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?

Additional Content

Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family

Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)

American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)

American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)

Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.

[simmerandwrite]

sink into me (masterlist)

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate. Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Warnings: angst, canon level violence, gun violence, allusions to dog fighting, smut

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06  07 08 09

--

Extras:

Grapefruit Sidecar

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader x mob! Bucky Barnes Summary: It was just an innocent question. You definitely didn't have any ulterior motives: “Have you ever had a threesome?” But when Steve admits something from his past with Bucky, you can't help but wonder...

Part 1: The Club | Part 2: The Penthouse

[b00kdiary]

Alright, based on your ACOTAR unpopular opinion about tamlin...I will get on my knees and beg you to write a Tamlinx plus size reader fic where she helps him heal and he is just head over heels in love with her Pretty please with sugar on top 💚

Beauty & the Beast | Tamlin

ACOTAR Tamlin X Plus Sized Reader

When Y/N finds Tamlin dying in the forest, she has no choice but to save him. Even if everything in her wished this male dead. Like two storms colliding, they meet. A broken High Lord, a hopeless healer. It almost sounds like fate.

Warning: PART ONE Mature themes (18+), swearing, fluff, and eventual smut next chapter.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"Wake up!" I hissed, "Wake up, you lumbering brute!"

The beast groaned, his lithe body writhing beneath my hands—hands that pressed desperately against the mortal wound at his side, trying to staunch the relentless flow of blood.

His golden fur was matted with red, the blood oozing from the gaping hole beneath his fifth rib. My palms were sticky with it, and the bitter, metallic scent filled the air. If I could smell it, I knew every predator and prey in the forest could too.

I shifted on my knees atop the muddied ground, my wide eyes canvassing the vast forest around me, scrutinizing every leaf and log and skitter of feet. I strained my ears, listening for any noises that would indicate that more of them were coming.

I glared down at the beast before me, that wolf's head lolling on the floor, his lion's body limp with pain, and those bear's claws coated with guts and gore.

"You're going to get us both killed," I cursed him, cursed myself, cursed the Mother and the Cauldron, and every other forgotten God out there for forcing this upon me.

I had found him passed out in this forest passage, a death rattle trembling from his lungs. If that hadn't been bad enough, my heart nearly stopped dead at the sight not fifteen feet ahead— Naga, five of them, ripped to utter ribbons and scattered across the dirt.

They had put up a furious fight if the scratches and claws and teeth marks covering him were any indication. Enough of a fight that one had managed to strike a deadly blow to the male before it died.

He had been dying when I found him, had lost so much blood for a second, I thought he was dead.

And now here I was— desperately trying to save him. Save the High Lord of Spring.

If he could even be considered that anymore.

I grit my teeth, steadying my breath as I let my power surge through me. White, incandescent light blazed from my hands, channeling directly into the wound. It stitched torn flesh, mended tendons, fused bones, and restored the ruined skin.

Only for a second though, before the injury tore open yet again and a fresh bout of blood began leaking through the gaps in my fingers. It was the same cycle I had been enduring for several long minutes now, and I began to fear his body would not take any more of this.

"For the love of the Mother," I pressed my palms down hard enough to hurt, hard enough for his muscled form to jolt. "You need to wake up, you need to change back to your Fae form!"

Panic rose in me like a tidal wave as his breathing grew shallower. This forest had become a death trap; these lands teemed with danger. If Naga roamed here, then so would bogeys, exiles, and Cauldron knows what other horrors.

Here, on this cursed ground, with this wounded, defenceless male, we were prey. We were as vulnerable as rabbits caught in a snare, awaiting death. And it was all because of him, the state he was in, the state of these lands, the monsters that had been tormenting the people and villages.

It was all because of him.

Anger blazed through me, bringing tears to my eyes. In a moment of desperation, I did something cruel, something that made my very soul weep. I plunged a finger into his wound, the flesh and blood squelching as I repeatedly stabbed into him.

On the third brutal stab, his fierce green eyes snapped open, shining like emeralds amidst the darkness.

The High Lord of the Spring Court roared.

The very land trembled with that roar, and I cringed as birds took flight from trees and the forest animals began dashing away — from the horrible power and anger that radiated off this beast.

He flipped, as fast as I could blink, snapping jaws and growling, nearly knocking me straight onto my ass as he did so. But as quick as that anger came, it was replaced by something far worse, far stronger.

The High Lord groaned, his mammoth form staggering back to the ground as pain overwhelmed him.

"What have you done?" He commanded, in a voice that was nothing Fae or human or safe. He tried to drag himself away from me, but somehow, I was the stronger one in this situation, keeping my hands staunching his wound. "What have you done to me?"

"Will you stop fucking moving?" I hissed, trying not to balk as those soulless green eyes latched onto me and he snarled. "I didn't do this to you, but I am the one saving your gods-damn life."

His claws extended at my words, latching onto the ground. He glared at me as if he wished that it had been my flesh instead.

"What are you doing— "

His voice was the epitome of raw, primal danger as his form moved, snatching back from my hands, from the white light that had begun leaking from it. I swore because as soon as my pressure disappeared, a steady tap of near-black blood began to ooze and puddle under him.

I gasped as he staggered onto his bloodied paws, so fathomably large that he eclipsed the forest, eclipsed the sun and sky above. The blood didn't stop leaking, yet that did little to deter the beast as he tried and failed to step away, swaying and groaning as he did so.

"Stop, you need to lay down," I fought the urge to grab him, cringing at the gore and blood painted across my hands, stuck under my fingernails. "You need to turn, I can't heal— "

"Do not touch me," Another monstrous snap of teeth and threatening snarl when I reached a hand to him. "Do not touch me, witch."

"Witch?" I laughed sardonically. "I am a healer you bastard, and I am trying to save your ungrateful ass."

He hunched forward, grimacing in pain, a pain I saw hollow out his green eyes. It took more effort than it should have for his powerful head to lift and those eyes to meet mine.

"Mind your tongue when you speak to me, witch," He warned, sharp, terse words undercut with laboured breath. "Do you know who I am? I demand respect as High Lord— "

"You demand nothing, you are nothing," I erupted, my voice rising with my temper as I pointed at him. My hands were bloodied, almost symbolic really. "Look at yourself, look around you. You are Lord of nothing, you are Lord of no one, and none but me is here to aid you."

He staggered another step, paws shaking from his weight. If he heard my words, if he felt the sting of them, I couldn't tell.

"You need to turn back to your Fae form if you want to live," I continued, my tone still unforgiving. "My magic is useless to you like this, I can't stop the bleeding until you turn."

"And if I do not?" He retorted, words beginning to slur together. Somehow, he didn't look so scary now—  he almost looked afraid. "Will your healer heart allow you to leave me here to die, Witch?"

"Turn," I said again, almost pleading now. Because the blood had begun to slow, and I knew that would not bode well for him. "Please, turn."

He blinked, long, dark lashes fluttering and that terrifying yet magnificent beast face stared at me, stared through me. I wondered if he was contemplating death if the darkness in his eyes was him resigning himself in defeat.

"If not for yourself," I said, my words strained. "Then for your people, for this court. Do not – do not abandon them wholly, Tamlin."

Tamlin. It was the first time I had uttered his name and as if the darkness had been pulled like a blanket from his eyes, I saw clarity shine within the green hues.

One second that foreboding, golden beast towered above me, and then the next, light flared, and I had to shield my eyes to endure it. It took me a moment to reorientate myself and when I had, my breath caught at the sight before me.

Tamlin knelt in the mud, with his head hung low, long blonde hair eclipsing his strong, beautiful face. Those broad shoulders hunched in, his body a canvas of muscle, carved and dipped and moulded to perfection.

He looked like a broken king. A bloodied monarch kicked down to the status of a mongrel.

His moon-pale skin seemed to shine under the dim Spring sun, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as he composed himself. The wound was worse in his Fae form, so much worse. I swallowed back the tinge of bile rising in my throat at the distinct sight of bone marrow and tendons peeking out the gaping hole.

"Cauldron, I need to heal that now— " I reached for him, and the infuriating bastard jerked back. I growled. "Do you want to die?"

His chest rose, faster now, his large, calloused hands curling into fists in the mud.

"Because believe me, your death would bear little impact on me, or anyone else." I continue harshly. "In fact, under different circumstances I'd probably be more incensed to watch you bleed out."

"Then let me bleed, Witch," He rumbled.

"If you die, we're all fucked." I spit, crawling angrily through the mud towards him, my dress streaked in dirt and filth beyond saving. "Because you have no heirs and no powerful contenders in your shitty court to supersede you. It's just you. And as useless as you are, at least the breath in your lungs is keeping this territory from completely collapsing."

His head lifted as I stopped before him, and my breath caught at the first real sight I got of his face.

Cauldron, he was beautiful.

Carved with an effortless kind of regality, his face was a canvas born of strong contours and noble lines that screamed power. High cheekbones, a straight, precise nose, and full yet firm lips, curled into a snarl that allowed the smallest glimpse of the sharp, white teeth beneath.

But it was his eyes that stole the air from my lungs.

Vividly green, deep and endless, like the heart of an ancient forest. And like a forest, they were still, fathomless, soulless. They stared through me.

He didn't argue with my condemning words. In truth, he didn't even seem to be affected by them.

But he unfurled his fists in the mud. And it spoke the words he wouldn't say.

Exhaling a deep breath, I shifted closer on my knees, closing the final gap of space between us. My small shaking hands reached towards that gaping bleeding hole, slowly, like one would approach a wounded animal.

Which Tamlin seemed to be. Wounded. Broken. Damaged beyond repair. The High Lord of Spring was a shell of the male he had been.

It was almost sad. Almost.

He sucked in a sharp breath as my palm connected with his torn, ruined flesh, squelching. I steepled my fingers over the open wound, his skin hot and electric against mine.

"This is going to hurt," I warned softly.

"Careful, or I'll think you care, Witch." He drawled, head bowed low again.

"Not likely," I muttered, and I thought I saw a hint of a sardonic smile.

I didn't dwell on it. I didn't view him as anything other than something I despised.

I clenched my teeth, forcing my breath to steady as I unleashed my power. White, incandescent light poured from my hands, sinking into the gaping wound. Flesh knit together, torn tendons wove back into place, shattered bones fused seamlessly, and raw, ruined skin smoothed as if untouched.

The air hummed with magic, the light pulsing in time with his shallow breaths—until, at last, the wound was nothing more than a ghost of pain left behind.

His chest expanded with a deep, powerful breath and with the exhale, the forestry around us quivered. It was raw power. And yet I had the distinct impression that it was a mere whisper of what he truly possessed in his arsenal.

It was the crumbs of what remained after months of stagnation and stifling.

He groaned, hunching forward, his fist meeting the ground to steady himself. Instinctively, I reached forward, small hands gripping his broad shoulders and using my strength to keep the brute from collapsing and eating dirt.

An electric hum of power burned through my palm where it met his skin, so potent it prickled through my bloodstream and straight to my heart, thumping it loud and hard, again and again.

Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum—

He tore his body from mine, a snarl rumbling in his chest. "Unhand me, Witch. I'm fine."

My eyes narrowed into slits, palms curling into fists and retreating to my sides. "Yeah, you seem fine. Perfectly normal to keel over in the dirt."

Emerald eyes shot to mine, narrowed and sharp with anger at my sardonic tone.

"And you're welcome by the way," I spat, tossing my braid over a shoulder and rising to my feet indignantly. "You know, for saving your life."

My dress was ruined, the simple blue cotton stained with mud and blood and Cauldron only knew what else. The fabric stuck wetly to my body, clinging uncomfortably to every swell and dip and roll I had.

His gaze flickered from my face down my body. His snarling expression didn't shift, but there was a distinct flare in his eyes. Like a male seeing something that he couldn't deny, even if he wanted to.

Heat bloomed my cheeks, and I roughly cleared my throat, straightening my spine. "Guess we're done here. Try not to die again, High Lord."

I bowed mockingly, enjoying the grumble of annoyance that revved through his chest. Before straightening, shooting the male one last scathing look and turning on my heel in the forest and walking away.

I cringed at the blood caking my hands, cringed more as I tiptoed over the mutilated bodies of the Naga scattered around. I'd need to find a stream, or some kind of well, if I walked into the next village looking like a mass murderer I'd be chased off with pitchforks.

Perhaps if I—

A pained grunt broke through my inner thoughts and my feet stopped before I commanded them to. I turned back around and then huffed. "Oh, for fuck sake."

The High Lord of Spring was passed out on the floor, face buried in the dirt.

I hesitated and then trudged back towards him, cursing the Mother for my misfortune.

***

When my senses finally returned, two things became clear.

One: Night had fallen, meaning I'd been unconscious for hours.

Two: The loud, foul-mouthed witch who had saved my life was still here.

With more effort than I cared to admit, I turned my head to the side, the movement sending a dull ache rippling through my skull. A rough, lumpy branch pressed against my neck, its bark biting into my skin.

Blinking away the black spots that danced at the edges of my vision, my gaze settled on the witch.

She crouched before a crackling fire, her small, plump hands outstretched toward the flames. Now and then, she plucked a broken branch from the pile beside her and tossed it into the fire, the wood hissing as it caught.

My eyes traced over those hands—clean now, the dried blood and filth scrubbed away. She must have found water. Where there had once been crusted gore, there was only smooth, unblemished skin, her nails polished and pristine, glinting faintly in the firelight.

I recalled how they'd glowed, incandescent and pure, when she'd pressed over my gaping wound and healed me. The heat had been both excruciating yet relieving, the feeling of that fatal hole closing inch by inch felt like a breath of fresh air after an eternity trapped underwater.

She was a healer, though in five hundred years, I'd never encountered a healer like her, or any female like her. Brazen, out-spoken, mouthy beyond what was smart or necessary.

If I didn't owe her a life debt, I'd likely have torn out that viper tongue of hers. Or plucked out those sharp, piercing eyes that glared and narrowed and rolled as if I were a pest she had stumbled across.

Cauldron, the witch had infuriated me enough that I'd almost forgotten I was dying.

My gaze unconsciously swept over her form. Another distracting thing I would begrudgingly admit to. Her body was pure sin. A temptation any hot-blooded male would be unable to deny.

I rake down the spoiled fabric of her dress, the blue cotton stained red from my blood, dried and flaking. It clung to her obscenely, highlighting the swells of her ample figure in a way that would make any God-fearing male send up blessings to the Cauldron and Mother above.

Much to my chagrin, I was staring. Even with a splitting migraine, and a soul-deep ache, I was staring.

"Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" That viper tongue of hers drawled, and my green eyes snapped up from her body to those unforgiving eyes.

My gaze narrowed.

Her eyes rolled in response, and she chucked another log onto the fire, the flames crackling and rising high. Against the backdrop of the dark, silent forest, the amber fire kissed her skin, highlighting the plump curves and the tart persona.

"You're welcome," She muttered drily. "You know, for saving your life. Again."

"I wasn't dying, Witch." My voice rumbled out like a thunderclap.

"No, you just passed out into the dirt, sweating, heartbeat near non-existent and then didn't awake for half a day," Another eye roll, "Sounds perfectly normal to me."

I tried to raise myself onto my elbows. Tried and failed. A growl rumbled in my throat.

"You came back." It wasn't a question. Just a statement. As flat and unfeeling as my soul felt.

"Seemed a waste for me to make such an effort to save your life, only for you to die from exposure," She shrugged. And I had the distinct impression this female truly did not care if I lived or died.

It should have offended me, perhaps hurt me, but instead, I found it begrudgingly admirable. She hated me and had no qualms being up front about it. That kind of honesty was rare.

I vaguely recalled her words earlier.

"Bastard."

"I am trying to save your ungrateful ass."

My lips almost tugged into a faint smile, a flicker of something akin to amusement blazing to life in my chest. It was an emotion I hadn't experienced in such a long time; I had difficulty even placing it.

My eyes sharpened upon her as she began to walk over to me. Instinctively, I curled my fists in the dirt, feeling the pinprick of my claws hidden just beneath the skin. If she felt my hostility, my aggression, she didn't acknowledge it.

My face was steel, immovable, as she knelt by my sprawled figure. Her face was a mirror, I quickly realised—steel, immovable, and cold—as if it was her instinct to resent being near me, too.

She reached for me, a damp scrap of cloth in her palm. I jerked back, and she glowered.

"Stop moving," She bit out, "or I'll pin your overgrown ass down."

Cauldron, she was a demon.

Ignoring my deathly glare, and the flash of sharp canine teeth, she merely placed the damp, cold cloth against my neck. With more tenderness than I'd expected, she began to carefully soothe my overheated skin.

My breath caught at the first touch of coldness, like ice meeting molten fire. But also cause of the brief touch of her skin against mine. Those soft small fingers grazing my throat and collarbones with each precise, gentle stroke of the cloth.

Her face betrayed nothing as she ran the cooling cloth over my skin, water droplets running down the carved muscles along my pectorals and abdomen. Though she clearly held contempt for me, this female soothed and cared for me with a touch that could only be described as God's-send.

It was the first moment of peace I'd felt in.... so long. Too long.

The forest around us eerily silent, except for the distant noises of lurking animals heard in snapping branches or rustling bristles. The moon above glowed— Dimly. Like everything in Spring, it was dim, depleted, as if the energy had been sucked dry from it.

Because of me.

Spring Court was weak, broken, vulnerable. Like me. A mirror image of the barren landscape that was my soul.

The Witch ran the cloth down my sternum, and the tingle rippled like dominos across my spine.

"For a Witch, who obviously disdains my mere existence," I said, more strained than I'd like. "You're helping me an awful lot."

Another drag of that cloth, down my stomach, my abdomen clenching. "Would you rather I let you die?"

"I think you would rather I die," I mutter.

Those eyes roll again. "I already told you; your death would do more bad than good."

"If you die, we're all fucked. Because you have no heirs and no powerful contenders in your shitty court to supersede you. It's just you. And as useless as you are, at least the breath in your lungs is keeping this territory from completely collapsing."

Right. I was the last thread holding this court together. Ironic considering I'd been the one responsible for its downfall to begin with.

"Have we met before, Witch?" I caught her small wrist in my large, calloused hand. Pressed my thumb against her pulse point and felt it race. The only sign that my presence affected that ice-cold exterior.

"No. we haven't." She said, her wrist in my hand still. "Though I doubt you would remember even if we had. Why bother, I'm only a lesser Fae. Common folk."

Her sharp words had my fingers tightening around her wrist, not painfully, but firmly. "So, you hate me without even knowing me?"

"I know enough."

My fingers tightened further. "You know nothing, Witch, I am—"

"I know that before, you ruled this land like one would rule an army: with an iron fist," She gritted out. "I know of the tithe you forced upon your people, even those who could barely feed their kids. The sanctions you placed as punishment when the common folk could not deliver to your heathen demands. The utter lack of mercy you had."

Her palm curled into a fist, her pulse pounding like a war drum under my thumb.

"I know that you are the reason that Spring had crumbled to the ashes," She continued on her unforgiving tirade. "Some blame Feyre Cursebreaker for the ruination of Spring. But me? I blame you."

Something cracked open in my chest at Feyre's name. The old wound leaking blood, so much, I swear I tasted iron on my tongue.

"Listen here, Witch," I snarled, tugging her by the wrist I still held, until her face hovered over mine. "Control your tongue, before I—"

"Before you what? What, you swine?" She breathed, fire in her eyes. "Because from where I stand, not only is your power little more than a spec, but your strength is even less. So do not threaten me."

My claws inched out my knuckles as I glared this viper down. She didn't so much as blink at it.

"It was your stupidity, your arrogance, your entitlement over Feyre that led you to allying with Hybern, led you to 'winning' her back," She continued, "And the ruin she inflicted upon spring, upon Ianthe, upon your sentinels, and army... it was all your doing."

"She betrayed me," I barked. "She betrayed us all."

"Feyre laid the traps," She scoffed, "But it was your selfishness, your pig-headed, easily led insecurity that made you fall straight into them. You betrayed her first, we all know it. So, stop lying to yourself and me."

"You don't know," I breathed, fist closing like a vice around her wrist, talons pressing to the delicate skin, not yet breaking through. I felt like a fire was burning through my heart. "You don't know, Witch."

"Perhaps not, perhaps that truth is one only you, Feyre and the Gods share," Her voice shook, those eyes glossed with anger and tears. "But after? What excuse do you have for abandoning this Court, Tamlin? What excuse is enough to explain what this land has become?"

The pain in her words felt as raw as her reaching into my chest and squeezing my stagnant heart. My eyes clenched, from weakness, from pain, from denial. I wasn't sure.

Her fingers gripped my chin hard, shook my face, forcing me to open my eyes again. "Look at me! Damn you, look at me!"

I did.

Tears welled in her eyes, her plump cheeks burning red and streaked with tears. But still her lip curled at the corner, a flash of white teeth.

"The sun barely shines; the moon hardly rises!" She continued, voice breaking. "The very earth itself is dying, because you have given up. You roam these lands, resigned in your beast form, and each day this court suffers more and more for it."

My talons pierce the delicate skin of her wrist, scarlet blood pooling from the pricks. But she doesn't flinch at it— I imagined her emotional pain overshadowed the physical.

"And the monsters that dwell here," A noise akin to a sob comes from her and I flinch. "Do you even know what is happening in the villages? What atrocities the common folk are enduring?"

A fresh bout of pain speared my chest. I was feeling again. Fuck, I forgot how much it hurt to feel.

"Monsters— Naga, Bogey, Puca— they roam these lands, uncontrolled," Her chest heaves as she says each word, "But it's our own people, the Fae of these lands, who terrorise us so greatly. Pillaging villages, murdering, raping, stealing, burning homes and business, taking children and wives!"

Breathing became a burden. As if the forest around us disappeared, and the pain that had throbbed in my body and mind and soul had been washed away, all I knew, all I felt, was this female. Her sorrow. So strong, I could taste her tears on my tongue.

My fingers loosened around her wrist, talons retreating into my skin.

"I watched my village burn as they came," She cried, "I saw homes and houses ruined, I saw men slaughtered and their heads spiked on lances and paraded. Women raped and violated before their families. Children beaten and chained. Barely a handful of us survived."

Something wet and hot began leaking down my cheeks, saltiness bursting across my tongue. I blinked back the fog over my eyes, wanting, needing, to see her anguished face above mine as she raged and sobbed.

Cauldron, I was crying.

When was the last time I'd cried?

"All these innocent people dead, violated, lives ruined. And do you know what they prayed for? Begged for?" She snarled at me, a gut-wrenching sob tearing from her mouth. "They prayed to the Cauldron for the High Lord to come save them. They prayed you would come, and you didn't!"

My body jerked, and I damn near almost begged her to stop. Please stop talking. Please stop making me feel this. Please stop.

"You didn't come," Her shoulders shook, head bowing forward as she whispered again and again. "You didn't save them."

Please stop.

Her face blurred in my vision, a cloud of endless tears falling. I didn't speak; I didn't make a sound. I had nothing to say— no excuse, no reason, nothing that could ever undo this. Nothing.

"Feyre betrayed you, but you betrayed us," She breathed. Her head lifted, and those agonised eyes locked onto mine. A look of condemnation from a thousand souls. "You betrayed us."

A gurgled noise bubbles at the base of my throat, the muscles clenched so tight I could barely get down a breath. My fingers tightened around her wrist almost desperately.

She watched me.

Waited.

My lips parted, mouth opening— speak, you fucking bastard, say something, say anything! Nothing came out, no words, no sounds, nothing.

She scoffed, tearing her wrist from my hold, severing the connection between us, and I felt it like the loss of a limb. I watch her hand swipe across her face, smearing snot and tears angrily.

I reached out my shaking hand as she rose and stalked away.

"Sleep, Tamlin," She said coldly, settling onto a log beside the fire, her back to me. "And pray the monsters don't come out to play tonight."

***

I don't know when I fell asleep. Or how.

Perhaps from exhaustion, or pain, or perhaps my bleeding heart drained any reserve I had left until my body had no choice but to sleep.

But when I awoke, I knew two things yet again.

One: It was morning, and the dying sun shone overhead.

Two: The Witch was gone. 

___________________________________________________________

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Emerald Hallow Chapter 2

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.  

**plus size reader 

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

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Steve called her the next day.  Twelve hours was surely enough time.  He also felt like he was going to combust if he didn’t hear her voice again.  He was worried about how badly he wanted her, knowing that this kind of connection was something that wasn’t common.  His self control was hanging on by a thread, and with their date coming up at the end of the week he was trying his best to not think about it too much, or fixate on the way her emerald hair shone on stage, or the black lipstick that slightly stained his beard, the feel of her on his lap…

“Jesus, punk, I need to meet this girl.  If she’s got you all wound up like this,” Bucky laughed watching Steve pace back and forth from his closet, dropping clothes onto his bed, trying to figure out what to wear.  Steve growled at the mention of Bucky, a natural born Alpha, even coming close to Y/N.  Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve’s challenge.  “Chill, man.  Not trying to come for her, just saying she sounds like quite the Omega if she’s got you of all people acting up.”

Steve’s glare relaxed on his face as he tried to breath through the anxiety in his body.  “I’m sorry, Buck.  I know, I’m trying to just…” he sat down on the small free space on his bed.  “I’ve never felt this before.  I don’t know how to handle it.  I’ve never felt so…out of control before.”  Bucky nodded, his eyes downcast.  “Have you?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“Besides being the Winter Soldier, no, my Alpha has never taken over,” Bucky said, shaking his head as his eyebrows furrowed.  “Maybe gotten the better of me here and there, but never anything like you’re describing.”

Steve sighed heavily as the jittery feeling ebbed and flowed through what felt like his very cells.  His body knew it was going to be around Y/N again in a few hours, and his Alpha hormones were thrumming, making his blood race and heartbeat rate spike periodically.  “I’m afraid that the second I see her, let alone smell her, that I’m going to do something I’ll regret.”

Bucky reached out over the pile of clothes and gripped Steve’s shoulder.  “You won’t.  If I’ve ever seen someone who is the ultimate gentleman, it’s you.  You won’t hurt her.  You won’t take advantage of her.  I know you won’t,” he reassured him, squeezing his shoulder before dropping his hand.  He pulled out a shirt and pants from the pile and held it out to him.  “Wear this.”

Steve grabbed the clothes from him and studied them, finally nodding as he stood to go change.  “Thanks…jerk.”

Bucky scoffed.  “Yeah, whatever.  Just think of Hydra any time you get too excited.”

A few hours later Steve stood waiting outside a themed restaurant that he thought she would like.  After seeing glimpses of the tattoos that were on her arms, and judging based on her hair and style that night at the jazz club, she was a Halloween enthusiast, and this place was a witchy, spooky themed restaurant with fancy cocktails and food.  Halloween was only a few days away, and he wanted to show her that he was paying attention and impress her.

He smelled her before he saw her, her scent whipping his face with the Autumn wind.  It nearly knocked him off balance, his hormones humming and buzzing as he turned towards her.  Y/N was wearing a large, rust orange overcoat with a knee length, pear-colored pinafore dress peeking out from underneath.  Her emerald hair complimented the colors well, now worn in a much more modern wavy curl style.  Her lips were natural this time, and he felt his own lips itch at wanting to grab her face and kiss her.  As she walked he could see her legs were covered with black sheer tights and tattoos that were haphazardly scattered across her thick calves.  She wore chunky Doc Martens and thick socks against the cold.  She gave him a brilliant smile as she approached.  Steve was physically holding himself back, biting his lower lip and his fingers on one hand pinching the other hand to keep his hands to himself.  

“Hey handsome,” Y/N greeted him, her signature smirk making his knees feel weak.

“Hi,” Steve said gruffly, looking her over hungrily.  “You look beautiful.”

“Aw, thanks,” she smiled widely.  “You’re insanely hot, as usual.”

Steve laughed loudly, the humor helping to lessen his anxiety.  “Insanely hot?  Wow, high praise.  I need to work on my compliments.”

“You say a lot with those pretty eyes of yours,” Y/N said cheekily.  Steve’s breath stuttered as she gazed up at him.  “You smell…delectable,” she sighed, giving him a dreamy look.  She reached out and swiped his coat, her fingers sliding over the knitted sweater he was wearing.  “And you look incredible in green, has anyone ever told you that?  It brings out the little bit of green in your eyes.”  Steve blushed deeply at her consistent compliments.  “Or…did you wear green because of me?” she stepped toward him, the heat of her body making her scent roll off her in waves.  “You wanted to match me, didn’t you?”  Steve couldn’t even try to save his pride as he nodded, his eyes fluttering as he swallowed harshly.  “You like my green hair?” she teased him, her long nails scratching through his sweater, making goosebumps erupt across his chest.  

“I like everything about you,” Steve whispered, his hand reaching for her hand on his chest and bringing it up to his face, kissing her open palm reverently.  This made the smirk on her face fall, her eyes widening slightly as she watched him.  “I have to be honest, I’m a very controlled man, but ever since that night I've been struggling to keep my composure with you.  So as much as I love this flirty back and forth, tread carefully, Omega,” he used her classification as a warning, his eyes flashing dangerously.  

Y/N blinked, his words seeming to strike her quiet momentarily.  Then her smirk slowly returned, her eyes looking playful.  “Yes, Alpha,” she said slowly.  Steve’s eyes rolled and his grip on her hand tightened.  She giggled and then turned to the restaurant.  “I’m starving,” she announced and walked away from him, pulling her hand out of his grasp.  Steve blew out a rough puff of air and followed her inside.

They got to know each other better during dinner, Y/N enjoying the cocktails as she explained a lot of the decor inside the restaurant to Steve, who wasn’t well versed in horror movies or Halloween in general.  They were sitting in a booth, and as the night drew on they moved from opposite ends to sitting next to each other.  Steve’s arm was behind her shoulders, his body angled toward her as she told him another story about her time singing at the jazz club.

“Usually it’s nothing but fun, but every once in a while there’s some drunk, self-obsessed Alpha that just can’t seem to understand the word ‘no,’” she said offhandedly, taking another sip of her third cocktail.

Steve squirmed in his seat, unhappy with this piece of information.  “Really?”

Y/N nodded, setting the cocktail down and adjusting her dress that had risen up her thighs.  “Such an ass.  Like let me sing the damn song, dude.”

“Is he there often?” Steve asked, looking down at her thighs, his free hand tightening into a fist.  Y/N nodded as she took a bite of the dessert he ordered.  “Why don’t they ban him?”

She scoffed, her eyes rolling dramatically.  “He’s the manager’s brother.  Doesn’t matter how many complaints there have been, he doesn’t take me seriously.  I’m just the ‘talent,’” she said, her fingers tightening around the fork in her hand. 

Steve bristled, his anger bubbling deep in his belly.  His jaw ticked as he tried to calm himself.  “When do you sing next?”

Y/N gave him a suspicious look.  “Tomorrow night, why?”

“I’d just like to come see you sing again,” Steve said unconvincingly, his arm behind her wrapping around her more firmly.  Her eyes narrowed at him but she merely smiled as she stabbed another piece of the dessert with her fork and then held it up to his lips.  Steve smiled at her offering and opened his mouth, letting her feed him.  Something about that action made the Alpha in him hum with satisfaction as he ate.

“Oh, you got a little…” Y/N pointed towards his mouth.  Steve tried licking his lips, but she shook her head.  “It’s just…here,” she lifted her fingers to his lips, her thumb wiping a piece of chocolate off the side of his mouth.  She pulled her hand away but Steve moved forward quickly and bit her thumb softly, sucking the chocolate off.  Her eyes widened and she sucked in a short gasp.  He watched her as he licked her thumb then released it, their faces much closer together now than before.  He took his chance and leaned forward, his nose nuzzling hers.

Y/N smiled, her eyes fluttering as she breathed him in.  She angled her head as her body shifted to face him, then dragged her lips from his cheek down to his neck.  Steve froze, afraid that if he moved he’d take her on the table right there and then.  She nuzzled his neck gently, then he felt her tongue lick his scent gland.  His hands turned to fists as she sucked softly on his skin, his scent strengthening as she scented him.  People at the tables around them shifted uncomfortably as his pheromones reverberated across the restaurant.

“Y/N,” Steve whimpered.  “Please…”

She pulled away, licking her lips and her hand squeezing his knee.  “Your place or mine, handsome?”

A deep growl rumbled in his chest and he threw a few bills on the table before taking her hand and ripping her out of the booth.  Y/N quickly grabbed her coat and laughed as he pulled her out of the restaurant.  He led her to his car and helped her in before slamming the door and winding over to his side, sliding in and peeling out of the parking spot and towards his apartment.  The whole way he kept a hand on her thigh, squeezing firmly, trying to ground himself.  His hormones were going haywire, making her own scent get stronger.  As her desire grew her scent became spicier, making his eyes and mouth water, his grip on the steering wheel warping the leather.  When they finally reached his apartment he helped her out and pulled her inside.  Once the door was closed behind her he caged her against the it with his arms.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Steve breathed heavily, his eyes hungrily looking her over, watching her chest rise and fall.  “If we do this, I won’t be able to stop myself.  I’m surprised I’ve made it this far.  If you let me have you, I won’t let you go, Omega,” he grunted.  

Y/N sighed, her eyebrows turning upwards as she licked her lips again.  “I want this, Steve.  I want you.  Let me have you,” she reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him into a heated kiss.

The second their lips met Steve lost all control.  He pulled her against him roughly, his kiss too hard, his tongue shoving its way passed her lips and into her mouth to taste her hastily.  His hands blindly pulled at her clothes, unhooking her dress, taking her shirt off while leading her to his bedroom.  Her hands did the same to him, touching him all over his chest and stomach as she pushed his sweater and undershirt up and over his head.  When he finally got her completely bare before him he picked her up and threw her on his bed.  She yelped and then laughed when she hit the bed.

“I don’t think anyone has ever lifted me before,” Y/N smiled, watching him as he took his pants and underwear off, her eyes bugging as she stared at his large cock.

“I’m not like anyone else,” Steve smirked as he crawled up onto the bed.  His hands felt every inch of skin, massaging the plushy flesh on her body, his fingers dipping into every curve and dimple and admiring the array of tattoos that littered her skin.  His lips were not far behind, kissing, licking and sucking as he moved up her legs.  Without warning when he reached her core in between her legs he dove right in, inhaling deeply as his tongue licked between her slit.  Y/N gasped loudly, her hands gripping the blanket beneath her.  Steve couldn’t stop tasting her, her slick slowly oozing from her as he worked her towards her orgasm.  His fingers parted her lower lips and he eased one finger into her, pumping slowly as she keened at the feeling.  He quickly added another finger, the tip of his tongue flicking her clit quickly then slowing down.  He added another finger, and her back arched as her slick made his fingers squelch in and out of her. 

He sucked her clit harshly as his fingers quickened, curling inside of her just right.  Y/N moaned, then it turned into a shriek as her orgasm washed over her.  Steve continued sucking and fucking her with his fingers as she rode out the orgasm, his own deep moan vibrating into her pussy as he smushed his face into her.  Her legs twitched as she calmed down and Steve finally pulled his fingers out, sucking at her slick on his fingers.

“Taste so good, Omega,” he said lowly as he lifted his wet fingers to her mouth.  Y/N obeyed and opened her mouth, licking and sucking at her slick on his fingers.  She gripped his wrist with her hand and continued sucking two of his fingers, her eyes focused on his face as she sucked them like she would his cock.  Steve groaned at the feeling of her tongue on him, and he quickly moved up and pulled his fingers from her mouth, kissing her lewdly.  Her arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him against her as he nestled his hips between her legs, his cock sliding between her lower lips.  He took his cock in his hand and lined himself up with her pussy.  Y/N’s ankles hooked behind his ass and pulled him towards her, shoving his cock deep inside her in one thrust.  They both moaned against each others’ mouths as he filled her.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N whispered against his lips.  “So good, Steve…fuck,” she rolled her hips against him, trying to get him to move.

“My needy Omega,” Steve huffed a laugh, then pulled his hips back and snapped them back into her.  Y/N’s mouth dropped open, her eyes shutting tight as he filled her again.  Steve kissed her all over her face and down to her neck, nosing her scent gland and licking and sucking at it roughly as he thrusted repeatedly into her.  His hands kneaded her breasts, pinching and flicking her nipples until his mouth could replace them and suck and lick at them.  Y/N’s hands were all over him, then ultimately settled on running her fingers through his hair and giving the back of his head a harsh tug.  Steve whimpered at that, his hips trembling.  “Fuck, do that again,” he said as his left arm dug underneath her shoulders and cradled her head in the crook of his elbow, keeping his body close to hers.  Y/N smiled as she scratched his scalp again with both hands, her long nails leaving a tingling sensation as they ran down his head until she gripped his hair and pulled.  Steve whimpered more loudly, his breath fanning her face as he kept himself cheek to cheek with her.  “You’re so good…Y/N…my pretty Omega,” Steve’s free hand slid between their bodies and his thumb started rubbing at her clit as he thrusted faster.  Y/N’s voice rose in pitch, a steady stream of rushed breaths at his thrusts spilling from her lips.

“Knew you were mine from the second I scented you,” Steve groaned, leaning down to lick her gland again.  “Up there singing to me, like a goddamn tease,” he nipped at her neck, making her gasp.  “Prettiest voice I ever heard,” he said.  “Be mine.”

Y/N’s hips twitched, her pussy fluttering around him.  He could feel his knot starting to catch inside her as he became more desperate for her answer.  She tensed at the feeling.  “I’m…I’m my own,” she said, her voice sounding heavy with emotion.  Steve looked at her in alarm, worried he’d said something wrong.  “But I’ll be yours, as long as you’ll be mine,” she said resolutely, her eyes starting to fill with tears.  

Steve nodded fervently.  “I was yours the moment I found you,” he promised.  Y/N blinked rapidly as his knot grew, the tears finally slipping from the sides of her eyes.  “I’ve never wanted anything, anyone, like I want you.  Can I have you…please?” he nipped near her gland again.

Y/N let out a small sob, bringing his head back up and kissing him deeply.  “Yes, Alpha.  I’m yours.”

Steve smiled and kissed her again, his hips thrusting four more times until his knot fully inflated and he came inside her, groaning loudly.  Y/N was right behind him as he flicked her clit, her squeal being muffled by his lips on hers.  He rutted against her as he filled her up, then he broke the kiss and licked down to her neck.  He kissed her gland before opening his mouth wide and biting down on it.  

Y/N’s back arched as he bit her, her hands scratching his back as it triggered another smaller orgasm.  She whimpered and he growled at her pussy squeezing him again.  Their scents combined as he let go of her neck and licked it to sooth the bite.  She was now his mate, and he was hers.  It all went a lot faster than either of them were expecting, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care.  He moved them both to lay on their sides, holding her close to his chest as they waited for his knot to deflate.  

Steve tickled her spine with the tips of his fingers, randomly kissing the top of her head and forehead as his breathing evened out.  Y/N’s arm that was wrapped around his body squeezed him and she kissed the spot above his heart on his chest.  He smiled and looked down at her.  “My Omega,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

[isabeauwolf]

Sneak peak of Law x Plus Size Nurse Reader 2

Quo Reader being vulnerable and Traffy feeling awkward and unsure of how to comfort you 😉

Did y'all guess who the three new patients were gonna be? Yes? No?

It hurt me to write ✍️ it, honest! But I have to proceed with the plot! Don't worry! Our dumbasses will be okay, I promise my lovelies!

Gimme your thoughts! 🫶💕👇

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language.  “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols. 

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression.. 

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think. 

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away. 

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns. 

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe. 

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as  “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

( chapter three )

[zerooclockbaddie]

Friendly Match: Part 1 of 2

Summary: You and JK have been friends for a few months. You first ran into each other at your boxing gym and had become fast friends. At least you are trying to keep those boundaries, as you’ve dubbed Jungkook as off limits because of his idol status. But does Jungkook know he’s off limits?

Idol! Jungkook X BlackfemReader(Plus sized reader)

Warnings: Smut(filthy). Mutual Pinning. Reader is oblivious of JK’s feelings at first. JK is obsessed with Reader including her body. JK is a munch(cunnalingus). Sparring.(Manhandling, wrestling, Judo). Dryhumpping. Choking(HAHAHAH). Rough Sex. Dirty Talk. Reader has a potty mouth, but so does JK. JK is a little shit as is reader. Gym Sex. Semi-Public Sex. Dom JK. Sub reader (Likes to put up a fight though). Bratty Reader. Reader gives off independent black woman vibes. Reader gets frustrated and overwhelmed does cry a bit. Slight Noona Kink(if you squint). Slight Angst. Language barrier is there but vibes. (Will add as the story progresses.)

*Glossary for Korean can be found at end of chapter.*

With a sigh you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself and continued your trek home.

Today hadn’t gone that great for you and every single thing that could have gone wrong, did. It first started off with you waking up to your charger no longer working so your phone only had half of its charge. Now this wouldn’t have been a big deal normally, but today was one of your long days so your phone was a necessity.

Secondly you had to take a cold shower, as the boiler in your apartment unit decided to go out. With the weather getting colder you started turning off your heating system a bit more to save on the utilities bill. Turns out doing that in the dead of winter in Seoul wasn’t the best idea, as the damn things pipes had frozen.

Thirdly while at work the town hall meeting quickly turned into a crisis meeting when the CFO reported that the social media team posted about a future project that was still in its last stages of contract review with a partnered client.

Absolutely nobody was supposed to know about it yet, let alone the public. The post had immediately been deleted on the company website, but by that time the damage was already done. And even though the mistake hadn’t been done by your team, everyone felt the consequences of that fuck up. As all management was now required to sign off on every little thing that needed to be submitted.

With everyone in crisis mode the only break for the day had been a working lunch and you only had time to stuff your face with what you could get from the cafeteria. You couldn’t even run to the store to grab yourself another charger like you had originally planned that morning. You of course had tried borrowing a charger from your coworker but you were that lone iPhone user in a sea of Samsungs.

During your sorry excuse of a lunch you had received an email from your landlord stating that your boiler needed to be replaced, but it wouldn’t happen until Tuesday. Today was Friday, meaning you would be without hot water for 4 days.

However the final tally that had officially turned this day from a little bad to ALL bad was finding out you would have to stay later at work than you originally planned. You were going to work overtime today so you had already come to terms with that. But with the newest demands of the management team you had to stay back and wait to approve every project and procedures for submission before Monday. You couldn’t even take work home as with the recent leak all remote activity was temporarily suspended.

By the time you left the office you were only able to catch one of the two buses you needed to take home. Korea’s public transport stopped running at 1am. Sure you could have called a cab home, however with your phone being dead you had to walk the last 3km home.

But not before stopping at the convenience store to grab another charger. Or two. You will not be caught slipping again.

Now with everything that happened today this walk home should have helped to clear your mind. And normally it would have. But it only made you realize that you wouldn’t be able to relax in a hot shower when you got home. In fact you probably should figure out where you would be staying instead because there was absolutely no way you were going to survive the weekend and then some with no running hot water.

When you finally entered your apartment you were shocked to find that it was ice cold. “What the hell?”

Slipping off your shoes, you step a few feet into your entryway. Frowning you slowly began to realize that your floor heating system wasn’t on. Grabbing your slippers from the shoe rack you dropped them to the floor and quickly shuffled them on.

Making your way to the bedroom you dropped your things onto and over the back of the couch. Hitting the light switch you peered at your thermostat in confusion. Clicking on one of the up arrows you watched as the thing just continues to flash numbers at you. Something that happened this morning when you realized your hot water wasn’t working.

And with that it was as if a light bulb went off in your head and you couldn’t help but throw your head back in defeat. The boiler controlled all of the hot water, meaning the heating system for your floors. Your apartment not only didn’t have running hot water but also no heat. No heat in the middle of freaking winter.

You lean against your wall and groan, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Your vision began to blur as frustrated tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Closing them you inhaled deeply refusing to allow them to fall. Everything was just a lot right now, but you weren’t going to let this break you. “It’s fine…it’s fine.”

You hold your breath for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. You repeat this step a few times until you can feel your heart rate slow and the overwhelming feeling dissipates. Sniffling you pushed yourself away from the wall and wiped your eyes dry.

“Seriously fuck today.” You chuckle mirthlessly as you shrug off your jacket, dragging your feet to your closet you proceed to come up with a game plan. As you got changed into your lounge wear you tried to ignore the fact you hadn’ showered yet, but you refused to lazy around in your work clothes. You could mentally hear your mother fussing about how outside clothes don’t go on the bed.

While changing you made a mental checklist of things you needed to do. ‘First charge your phone, then figure out a place to stay for the next few days.’

Your stomach gave a violent rumble as you walked back into your living room. “Okay phone, food THEN figure out the living situation.”

——

About twenty minutes later you find yourself wrapped in your coziest throw blanket finishing off a cup of ramyeon while your phone charges on the arm of the couch. The spice of the noodles hits your tongue and you couldn’t help but groan in happiness.

Since moving to Korea you have begun to understand the sudden appeal of instant ramyeon. Yes you had the instant cup noodles back in the states, but nothing really could beat the taste of Korean cup noodles for some reason.

Staring down into the red liquid you narrow your eyes in suspension. “Why are you so addicting…” Though your newfound suspension didn’t stop you from taking another bite.

Your phone buzzed to alert you of a text message, and you glanced at the screen while in mid-slurp. A familiar bunny emoji greeted your eyes and you couldn’t help but smile around the noodles.

“체육관?”

Finishing your bite of noodles you put down the cup on your coffee table and reach for your phone to type back a quick reply.

“What no hi first?”

You watched the ellipsis appear then disappear before a message popped up on your screen.

“안녕. 체육관?”

You rolled your eyes, but stared at the message for a bit. Even though it was late, going to the gym wasn’t a bad idea. You could shower, plus let some of this pent up energy out against a bag.

Typing out a quick reply you run to your bedroom to get yourself together.

“콜 I can be there in 30”

On any normal trip to the gym you’d take the time to choose your fit. But right now your focus is on durability and comfort. A pair of black leggings and compression sports bra. After adjusting the straps you reach for a baggy sweater and throw it on over your head, the ends of the sweater resting at the top of your thighs.

Stepping into your en suite bathroom, you grab a few hair ties and began the routine of securing your coily hair up in a relaxed updo; a hairstyle your older sister liked to call ‘the pineapple’ and you put another hair tie on your wrist. With hair as thick as yours it was always a good idea to carry a spare.

Exiting your bathroom you stop by your closet to collect your pre packed gym tote. Grabbing your gym shoes you stuff them haphazardly into the tote and head to your nightstand to do the same thing with your water bottle.

You can hear your phone going off from its place on your couch. The familiar text tone alerting you of a new message.

Bag secured over your shoulder you grab your phone and charger, making sure to dump the cord into your bag, doing the same thing with your wallet. With your hands semi free you unlock your phone to view your recent message.

“I can pick you up.”

You declined the offer but that instantly had your phone ringing in your hands. Hitting the green circle you also put the device on speaker.

“You live on the opposite side of the gym. It doesn't make sense for you to come get me.”

“But it’s late and the buses aren’t running.” You hear his gruff voice sound over the speakers of your phone and you had to ignore the way your body immediately warmed. This man was off limits and had been the moment he walked into your boxing gym.

———Flashback———

Your lesson was finishing up with your coach and you were working on the bag and was only focused on finishing out the last few reps.

“당신은 일찍 왔습니다, 정국아.”

You heard your coach call out to the person who you assumed just walked into the private gym but you paid them no mind. Instead the moment your last punch landed on the bag you collapsed to the floor mats dramatically in an exhausted heap.

“제가 해냈어요!”

Your coach and the newcomer both chuckled at your display which had you grinning from your place on the floor. You could hear your coach talking more but you didn’t quite understand their conversation. Your Korean was extremely basic, including your grammar. Besides you didn’t really try as it wasn’t right to eavesdrop on others conversation.

Sitting up you crawl your way awkwardly to your gym bag against the wall. Your boxing gloves and arms make the short trip difficult. But you were stubborn as you desperately needed a drink of water. Reaching your hydro flask you popped it open with your teeth and took the most generous pulls from your straw. Groaning when the cool water hits your throat. Room temp water is better after a workout as your body can absorb it easier, but ice cold water turly hits differently .

Putting the bottle down you start working on taking off your gloves. You hear footsteps approaching and you thought it was your coach so you turn to him, but for one it wasn’t your coach. Instead it was someone else entirely. THE Jeon Jungkook of BTS.

“안녕하세요.” You watched as the man shyly bows to you and you quickly scrambled to stand to return his greeting.

“아..안녕하세요.” You awkwardly stuttered back. He proceeded to fire off fluent Korean to you and you were unfortunately only able to catch a few words. You were better than this. Truly you were, but your brain could barely function because of present company. “Umm…I. 저는 한국어를 잘 못해요…죄송합니다.”

The man laughed softly and switched over to English, or at least what English he could speak. However, through the small interaction you were able to find out that Jungkook also took lessons at your gym. He was a bit more advanced than you as he has more training years under his belt. But he still praised you on your form.

———Present———

That meeting had happened well over 8 months ago, your Korean though at the time being basic and his English also the same, you two had become fast friends. Mostly you two hung out at the gym together or you had invited him over for a small LAN party to play Overwatch with some of your friends back home. Of course you never told them exactly who they were playing with. Your friends weren’t that big into Korean music so it was easy for Jungkook to get away with it. But with his demanding schedule it was hard to find time to hang out. Though that didn’t mean you two didn’t talk.

Your text message chain was covered in meme’s and funny TikTok videos you both had sent back to each other over the months. And you two would FaceTime as often as you could. It was an easy friendship. One you had to constantly remind yourself to not take it any further. No matter how attractive, sweet, funny, and annoyingly cute Jungkook was. His status made him off limits. Besides you figured with his job as an idol, he had to constantly deal with people throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to do that to him, so you made it your mission to never cross that line.

“I’m a big girl Kook, I can take a cab.” You speak into your phone, as you enter the gym’s address into the Kakao taxi app.

“But surge hours.” You heard him whine through the phone. Without even having to see his face you could see the pout and frown combo your friend was no doubt sporting right now. “It is, but it’s already ordered and I’m not wasting money canceling.”

“…완고한.” You didn’t exactly know what he said, even with your Korean having improved but there were still words you didn’t know. But what you did know is that you should take offense to it.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You hung up on him and dropped your device into your bag, and while you were at it you reached for the gym shoes and quickly put them on. Followed by your coat.

Your phone was buzzing violently in your bag to alert you of a phone call, but you ignored it. If he wanted to insult you then he could deal with being ignored for a few moments. You had to head down anyway, your taxi was almost here.

—-

Your coach was actually in the process of leaving for the evening when you arrived. Because the gym was private, sometimes the man allowed some of his VIP clients to use the facilities after hours. By VIP clients what that really stood for was Jungkook. Coach had given him access a while back due to his schedule. And because of your recent friendship with Jungkook, that had meant that by proxy you had access.

“ Y/N아(야) 혼자 운동하기?”

You dropped your gym bag by the wall as you bowed in a greeting to your coach.

“아니요, 정국이 여기 오는 중입니다.”

The older man hummed in acknowledgement at you and advised you to clean up after yourselves when you both were done. You watched the older man wave goodbye to you and you bowed to him wishing him a goodnight.

Now alone you made your way to the sound system and plugged your phone in. You didn’t often get the option to get control of the aux. It was always a first come first serve type of situation. Opening Spotify you hit your workout playlist and the familiar beat of your favorite song comes blasting through the speakers.

With your music now playing you walked over to the side of the gym that had a few yoga mats available for use. Grabbing the thickest one you unroll it and begin a series of warm up stretches. You’re laying down onto your knee for the pigeon pose when Jungkook comes storming in.

“야! 누나!”

You lifted your head and turned it towards the huffing man and stuck your tongue out at him. During your cab ride over you kept ignoring JK’s calls and at first you were just doing it until you got settled into the cab. But the man had started to blow up your phone so you continue to ignore his calls now for the hell of it. All though you were kind enough to text him you were at the gym.

“미안해요.” Though you said it politely, your tone was giving the exact opposite. You watched him roll his eyes and turn around to drop his bag and water bottle next to your things even going as far as discarding his shoes. With his back turned, you allowed yourself a little time to glance over his appearance. He was wearing his typical oversized shirt and sweatpants in his trademark colors. Black. The outfit was simple, but the black seemed to make his tattoo sleeve pop even more.

And his hair, god he started growing out his hair not too long after you two met and it was just so perfect. You wanted to run you fingers through it, hell even braid it and you didn’t even know how to do that. Shaking your head you stare ahead and focus on your warm up. You switch over to the other leg, your back facing him.

With your attention now off of him, you failed to notice the once over he gave your figure. Nor did you see the way his gaze lingered a little longer on your ass.

Jungkook’s fingers flexed a bit as his thoughts began to get away from him. For months he has been dreaming about your ass, your thighs, your chest and don’t even get him started on your belly. He knew you were self conscious about your weight and you had talked with him about it multiple times. And multiple times he had told you there was absolutely nothing wrong, but he did offer to be your gym buddy, help you on your days when you didn’t have the best mindset. And because of this your friendship had grown to what it was today. But Jungkook desperately wanted more and he has every since he first met you.

Your ass had him hypnosis when he had witnessed you crawling across the gym floor. With absolutely no ounce of shame Jungkook had asked his coach about you immediately. The older man might have judged him but Jungkook gave no fucks, especially after he heard the moan you let out when drinking your water. Fuck at that moment he understood why Army always cheered when he would take a water break during concerts. Your plump lips wrapped around the straw made his cock twitch to life in his sweatpants. Jungkook was already so down bad that the possible language barrier between the two of you didn’t even occur to him until after you both started talking.

“So how was your day?” Your voice calling out to him sounded slightly strained as you switched into deep lunges. He was lucky the music was loud because the noise that fell from his lips sounded feral. That pose made your ass look straight up appetizing. Clearing his throat Jungkook turned his back to you when he noticed you started looking over and occupied himself with his hand wraps.

“Busy, had a few schedules, but I have the next couple of days off. How was yours?”

He heard your huff of frustration and he glanced over his shoulder. You looked peeved. Actually now that he was looking at you, he could see how tense you truly were.

You moved into a butterfly pose and started bouncing your knees against the mat. “It fucking sucked. I had to get a new charger because my old one quit working in the middle of the night. Plus my boiler broke, also work was overwhelmingly stupid. I had to stay late and unfortunately I missed my last bus home. I had to walk the last couple of kilometers.” In the middle of your rant you had abandoned the stretch and had begun listing off your grievances by counting on your stiletto manicured fingers.

Jungkook’s brow furrowed more and more as you ranted off to him about your day. You were speaking extremely fast so he was hyperfocusing on the way your glossed lips moved making sure he was picking up every word. Since meeting you his English has improved rapidly. So much so that even Namjoon noticed. But his brain still needed to work overtime to translate your words, so his hands stilled, pausing in his hand wrapping, the purple wraps hanging awkwardly between his fingers.

“집에 걸어갔어요? 온돌이 고장났습니다? Wait….You can’t stay at home with your heat not working 누나.”

You nod your head in agreement with him.”I know, I’m going to look at a hotel to stay in tomorrow. It’ll be fixed on Tuesday.”

”Stay with me.” He was not going to let you go back home to a cold apartment. It was starting to snow when he had pulled up to the building earlier. He watched as you blinked owlishly at him for his statement, your head tilting in confusion in a way he found extremely cute. But he needed you to understand that he was serious.

“I’m serious. Stay with me until your 온돌 is fixed.”

You waved your hands back and forth in front of you and shook your head. “That's sweet of you, but no, it's okay I can stay at a hotel.”

Jungkook shook the purple wraps off his hand and let the fabric fall to the floor by his bag before making his way over to your form. “If you insist on staying in a hotel, fine. But at least come back to mine for the night.”

Your brows shot up in surprise at his sudden approach. You really did find it sweet that he was offering his own home for your benefit. But staying the night with Jungkook even if it was for platonic reasons felt like it was crossing a line. You smiled gently at the man as you declined once again.

“Y/N, just for tonight. It was snowing when I got here and you live on the 5 floor. There is no way you would be comfortable at home tonight.” As if to prove he was serious Jungkook had kneeled down to your level, his wide brown eyes staring deeply into yours.

Your vision jumped back and forth between his eyes before looking away to think. Okay so he had a point. Your plan had been to stay home for tonight and find a hotel to check into the following morning. When you left your apartment the thermostat had shown 12 degrees Celsius. Now with it snowing you could only imagine what the temperature would read.

You cross your arms over your chest and begin to nibble your bottom lip as you got lost in thought. Would it really be okay for you to accept his offer? You’ve never been to his house before, sure he’s been to yours plenty of times, but it was easier to sneak him into your apartment. Jungkook had literal people stalked outside his home 24/7 always hoping to catch a look of the idol. “I..don’t kn-“

”I won’t accept no for an answer Y/N” Jungkook steels his gaze when your eyes shift back to him at his declarations. It didn’t make sense for you to go back home. He had two guest rooms available. He would truthfully prefer you sleeping in his own bed, snuggled up close, but that could come later. He watched as one of your eyebrows ticked upward and an expression he dubbed stubborn defiants took over.

Dropping down fully to the floor Jungkook crossed his legs and settled in for the long haul. Once you had that look on your face it was always hard for him to change your mind. Sometimes he would just give up and let you have your way, but he refused to do that this time. It’s for your own good and his peace of mind.

“I’ll be fine Jungkook, it's for one night. Hell it's like literally just a few hours at this point. I won’t freeze to death.” Though you said this, a miniscule part of your brain did wonder if it was actually possible.

“Aren’t you anemic? You’ve been complaining about how cold you’ve been feeling lately.”

Your eyes shifted to the floor with his statement. So yes you did get cold super easily. You had never been the type of person to sleep with socks on, but more nights you found yourself doing exactly that. In fact your fuzzy sock collection had grown quite quickly over the last couple of months, but you felt that was largely due to the man right in front of you.

“I can’t ask you to d-“

”You aren’t asking, I’m offering.” Jungkook watched as you bite your lower lip and your brows scrunch closer together. He could see your mind physically searching for a way to decline his offer. You might have hung up the phone when he had called you stubborn earlier, but you really were. He admired how fiercely independent you were, but he wanted you to also understand you don’t have to be with him around.

“Y/N, I have a spare bedroom you can stay in for the night. You can sleep in a warm bed and I’ll even make breakfast. I make an amazing egg sandwich.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but the corner of your lips did tug upward into a small smile. You were tempted to say yes, but you still were worried. “ You won’t get into trouble for me spending the night?”

You watched as Jungkook’s eyes dip down your frame and back up to your eyes. And your body warms uncontrollably at the gesture. “누나 I’ve had people crash at mine before.”

You sigh a bit in frustration because that’s not exactly what you meant. Yes you are sure he has had people over, but what about women? You didn’t want him to get into trouble with his company over this. A photo leaking of a woman sneaking into his home in the middle of the night would be a horrible scandal. No matter how innocent it is. “Okay but have you ever had a woman do it? I don’t want this to get you into ‘any’ kind of trouble.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to arch his eyebrow, he watched as you stared at him in genuine concern. He could tell now that what you were really worried about was the possible scandal this could bring, and yes there was a chance you could be caught coming home with him. But he didn’t care about all of that. He was a grown man and he wasn’t going to stop or be afraid to live his own life because of that.

Staring at you for a little longer something else started to occur to him, how innocent did you think he was to not having had a woman stay at his place before. Grinning, he placed his hands behind him and leaned back onto his palms, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to spend the night with me Y/N.” He said as he cocks his head to the side chuckling softly.

You scoff and look away as the warm feeling from before moved to two places. Your face then down to your lower belly. You know he didn’t mean it the way he said it, but you couldn’t help the way your mind wandered. The fantasies you’ve buried deep into the back of your head started coming to the surface.

You feel a nudge against your knee and look down to watch Jungkook’s foot return to the floor. Without hesitation you reach forward and push the man back by his shoulders. “Eww don’t touch me with your feet!”

Jungkook bursts into a giggling mess as he falls back to the floor in a heap. You aggressively started rubbing the back of your hand over where his toe sock covered foot touched. ”I’m definitely going home after that stunt.”

You started to stand but jungkook was faster. Your wrist was within his hand in seconds and he gently pulled you back down to your seated position. At least that had been the plan until gravity set it. Your had corrected your balance trying not to fall into Jungkook, but the man didn’t want you falling to the floor.

You landed awkwardly across his lap. His thighs digging slightly into your stomach. You feel one of his hands on your shoulder and the other on your waist stabilizing you. “I’m sorry 누나.”

Jungkook was in absolute heaven. You were laid across his lap in such a way that your ass was almost directly in his face. He had caught you in a way that he could feel exactly how soft and warm your body was against his own and loved it. But he could only hold you against him for so long.

As you began to sit up you felt Jungkook’s hand move from your waist to the other side of your hip in assistance. His hold firm and strong, your heart couldn’t help but flutter. You plop down next to him and you watch as he looks you over clearly checking for injuries. “I’m fine Kook, I practically crushed you. I should be the one saying sorry. Are you okay?”

Jungkook reached over and flicked your forehead. “You could never 누나.”

You hiss in pain and lean away from him rubbing your forehead. Glaring at him past you hands. “Ow, what as that for?”

Jungkook just gives you a look. One that you clearly understand. No negative remarks towards yourself were allowed. Something you both had talked about multiple times.

You watch as Jungkook stands up and stretch his hands high above his head. It took all of your willpower not to drop your eyes to his crotch. “You’ve been practicing Judo with 선생님?”

You continue to pout as your rub your forehead still a little miffed and mumbled a soft yes.

“Then let's spar in the ring. You win, I’ll drive you back home. I win, you stay with me tonight. “ What he didn’t tell you was that if your place did turn out to be too cold he was going to drag you over to his anyway.

You slowly come to your feet next to him, frowning at him deeply. “How is that fair? You are literally a black belt.”

Jungkook smiled cheekily at your comment. And leaned a little into your space. “Scared?”

You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on his cheek pushing his head away from you, “No, I’m being realistic.”

With the momentum of your push he dramatically falls into the direction of the elevated ring tucked into the corner of the gym.

You watch from your place next to your yoga mat as Jungkook slides into the ring and stands up only to lean down on to the black boxing ring ropes, his full weight bouncing lazily on them. “If you can pin me once, you win. But if I can pin you 7 times. I win?”

You walk towards him and place your hands on your hips, your neck tilted back as you look up to him. “I only have to pin you once?”

Jungkook bobs his head up and down in confirmation. You had only been practicing Judo for the last month or so. But your coach had said you did show great promise for it. Which didn’t surprise you in the least. What he didn’t know is that you and your siblings pretended that your living room was a wrestlemania arena when you were growing up. Stone Cold Steve Austin was your literal childhood hero.

“Fine.” You agreed to his terms and started toeing off your shoes. Then your socks as an afterthought. Honestly the deal was a good one. You didn’t really have faith in abilities but 1 out of 7 were good odds.

To be continued…

Next<

Glossary:

체육관: Gym—안녕. 체육관: Hello(informal). Gym—콜: Deal(ex:You have a deal.)—당신은 일찍 왔습니다, 정국아: You came early, Jungkook—제가 해냈어요: I did it—안녕하세요: Hello(Formal)—저는 한국어를 잘 못해요…죄송합니다:I am not good at Korean, I’m sorry—…완고한: Stubborn—Y/N아(야) 혼자 운동하기: Y/N (ending depends if your names ends in vowel or a constant), working out alone—아니요, 정국이 여기 오는 중입니다: No, Jungkook is on his way here—야! 누나: Hey(informal) Older sister(for male)—미안해요: Sorry(formal)—집에 걸어갔어요? 온돌이 고장났습니다?: Did you walk home? Is the ondol(Korean thermostat) broken—선생님: Teacher.

Please let me know if this format is clear enough to understand.

[sunflowerlando]

F1 MASTERLIST

(🌶️ = NSFW (or minors) content)

Stories:

'One familiar; One desire' Masterlist (George Russell x female reader; Lando Norris x female reader) -multi chapter-

Like You Mean It - Pierre Gasly x you (Norris sister!reader) 🌶️(18+)

Nuclear - follow up to Like You Mean It - Pierre Gasly x you (Norris sister!reader) 🌶️(18+) (upcoming)

Right but Wrong (Lando Norris x plus size model!reader SMAU)

Currently untitled Lando smut 🌶(18+) (upcoming)

Currently untitled Oscar smut 🌶(18+) (upcoming)

Temporary Bliss - Max smut 🌶(18+) (upcoming)

Homesick - Carlos fic (upcoming)

Driver Text Message AUs: (requests are currently open!)

The boyfriend series:

You’re in the mood when they’re at work • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55 • (slightly NSFW-mature themes/photos)

They prank you (or try to) • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

New Year’s Eve Special ● LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You thirst after them • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You thirst after them (part 2) • AA23, FC43, PG10, LL30, LS18, YT22 •

I can buy myself flowers • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

‘She’s busy’ prank (requested) • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You’re not there and they watch a sad movie • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You're on your period • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

They have a bad race and you aren’t there • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You said no when he proposed • DR3, LS18, MV1, LH44, LN4, OP81 •

Tongue Out 😛 • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You make a big purchase without telling them (upcoming)

His surprise gets ruined (upcoming)

You’re ovulating (upcoming)

You order him something special (upcoming)

Just friends? Series

Valentine’s Day • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3 •

You accidentally text him instead of another driver gushing about liking him • LH44, GR63, OP81, LN4, CL16, CS55, MV1, DR3, FC43, PG10 •

Accidental Nudes (upcoming)

Photo Moodboards: 

Bodyguard Carlos AU

Knight Charles AU

(🌶️ = NSFW (or minors) content)

[scarluna]

Thoughts of You

Y/N starts work as a client agent at a big corporate company. There, she meets Jungkook, a man who confuses the hell out of her.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, fuckboy jungkook, insecurities, smoking

Chapter available: 1 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapters: 2 / 5

Chapter Warnings: mature language, a little sexual tension

A/N: In sake of this fic, some things are added, others are a little changed, but the overall story is true. I AM AS CONFUSED AS Y/N OK? OK.

A week had passed, and Y/N found herself standing in front of her mirror, dreading the idea of stepping out. The past few days had been a relentless battle between her self-doubt and the need to push herself beyond her comfort zone. She hated the way she looked—how big she felt in her own skin. Every outfit she tried on made her feel worse, her reflection in the mirror only reinforcing the insecurities gnawing at her.

Sighing, she settled on oversized clothes, ones that concealed rather than accentuated, offering her a semblance of security. Her hair was curled loosely, cascading down her shoulders, a contrast to the chaos in her mind. A touch of makeup—just enough to make her feel like she had put in some effort, yet not enough to draw attention—completed her look.

Her dog whined at her feet, sensing her reluctance, but Y/N gave the pup a small smile before grabbing her bag and stepping out the door. The fresh air hit her face, yet it did little to ease the weight in her chest. The car ride was silent, save for the occasional deep breath she took to steel herself.

Arriving at the meetup spot, she saw her colleagues already gathered, laughter filling the air. They greeted her warmly, joking about the upcoming night, their energy so effortlessly light compared to the storm within her. For a fleeting moment, she managed a small smile, allowing herself to feel a bit of ease in their presence.

Then came the loud roar of an engine, bass-heavy music thumping through the air. The group turned, already knowing who it was before they even saw the sleek car roll up beside them. Jungkook. His presence was impossible to ignore, commanding attention the moment he stepped out.

Y/N swallowed as she caught sight of him. The disheveled hair, the relaxed posture, and—what made her stomach churn—the faint but unmistakable hickeys littering his neck.

Her heart sank, her mood plummeting instantly. She had been struggling to even step out of her house, to feel like she belonged among them, while he... he had been out, living effortlessly, having fun, and clearly enjoying the company of someone else.

She shifted her gaze away, forcing herself to maintain composure as their friends greeted him with teasing remarks. She wanted to disappear, to retreat into the comfort of her home, where she could be alone with her dog and her thoughts.

But she was here now, and she had to endure it. Even if it hurt.

The teasing began almost instantly.

“Damn, Jungkook,” one of their colleagues smirked, nudging him playfully. “Rough night?”

Another chimed in, laughing. “Or should I say, rough nights? You’ve got enough hickeys to last the week.”

Jungkook, ever the cocky one, simply grinned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “What can I say?” he shrugged, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gotta keep life interesting.”

The group erupted into laughter, the energy high and unbothered. Y/N, on the other hand, remained quiet, staring ahead as if their conversation didn’t concern her. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it with steady hands, despite the storm raging inside her. Taking a slow, deep drag, she let the smoke swirl around her, masking the bitter taste of disappointment that sat heavy on her tongue.

She had no right to feel this way. She knew that. He wasn’t hers—never was, never would be. But for even a second, she had allowed herself to believe there was something. A fleeting glance, a moment of warmth, a shared silence that had meant nothing to him but had kept her awake at night, foolishly hoping.

Stupid. She was so, so stupid.

“Hey, you good?” One of her colleagues leaned toward her, their voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a lazy smile, exhaling the smoke as she waved them off. “Yeah, just too sleepy to function.” A lie, but an easy one.

They seemed satisfied with her answer, turning back to the conversation as Jungkook smirked at another crude joke thrown his way. Y/N, meanwhile, sat in silence, the cigarette burning between her fingers as she fought the cruel thoughts in her head.

She needed to stop. Stop pretending. Stop romanticizing. Stop letting herself fall into this ridiculous fairytale where she was ever anything more than just another face in his orbit.

Jungkook would never see her the way she wished he would.

And it was time she stopped seeing him that way too.

The break room was lively, filled with the usual chatter and laughter as everyone settled in for their lunch break. Some were sprawled out on the couches, others engaged in a casual game of football, while a few gathered around the vending machines debating over snacks. Y/N sat at the table in front of Jungkook, absentmindedly picking at her food, her mind drifting elsewhere as the conversation carried on around her.

Jungkook, spinning lazily in his chair, suddenly spoke up, dragging everyone’s attention back to him. “You know,” he mused, stretching his arms behind his head, “I think I should date an older woman. Maybe even a MILF.”

A chorus of laughter erupted around the room. “Oh yeah?” One of the guys smirked. “Thinking of settling down already?”

Jungkook grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, just think it could be fun. Older women have their shit together, know what they want, plus…” He trailed off as he turned slightly in his chair, catching movement outside the window. His gaze locked onto a woman walking past the building, pushing a baby stroller. She was effortlessly beautiful—dressed casually yet put together, her confidence apparent in the way she carried herself.

“Damn,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Now she’s hot.”

Some of the guys turned to look, chuckling at his sudden distraction. “She’s got a baby, dude.”

Jungkook shrugged, still watching her. “So? Doesn’t mean she’s taken.” He smirked, clearly entertained by his own train of thought. “Think I should ask if she’s single?”

Y/N felt her stomach twist in disgust. She had spent the last week trying to fight off the stupid storm of feelings and confusion she had toward him, trying to remind herself that this was the reality and no matter how his words were gathered, he was still a fuckboy and probably did not mean anything he had told her so far about him being loyal. Here he was, proving her right without even realizing it.

She didn’t think. She just moved.

Pushing her chair back abruptly, she stood up and walked straight out of the break room, her face blank, her heart pounding with frustration. She didn’t even care how obvious it looked—she just needed to get out of there.

As the door swung shut behind her, Jungkook’s amused voice carried through the room. “Oh, no, Y/N is tired of my shit!” he joked, shaking his head as the others laughed.

But for the first time, something about her reaction made him pause.

-

Y/N had made it a habit to slip away during breaks, finding solace in the quiet outside. The crisp air, the burn of the cigarette between her fingers—it was the only thing that seemed to ground her these days. She avoided the break room, avoided the easy laughter and meaningless conversations, and most importantly, she avoided him.

Jungkook.

But of course, he found her anyway.

She barely had time to take another drag when she heard the door creak open behind her. She knew it was him before he even spoke.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate in the air before she turned her gaze to him. “No, I haven’t.”

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, his presence too overwhelming, too intoxicating. “Liar.” His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it—curiosity, maybe even concern. “You barely look at me. You don’t sit with us anymore.”

She shrugged, taking another drag, feigning indifference. “I’m just tired.”

Jungkook didn’t look convinced. His dark eyes scanned her face, as if searching for something beneath her guarded expression. The silence between them was heavy, charged. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way he was studying her, trying to read between the lines of her simple excuse.

“You sure that’s all?” His voice was lower now, softer, and it made her stomach tighten in a way she hated.

Before she could answer, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, breaking whatever unspoken thing had been building between them. Jungkook sighed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. He didn’t answer immediately, but whatever he saw on the display made him smirk slightly before he finally picked up.

“Yo,” he answered casually, his voice shifting into something more playful. A few short words, and then he hung up.

Moments later, Y/N heard heels clicking against the pavement. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—she could already picture the kind of girl Jungkook surrounded himself with. And when she did look, her stomach twisted.

The girl was thin, almost unnaturally so, her long hair spilling down in artificially perfect waves. Everything about her was polished—the exaggerated lashes, the overly plumped lips, the body sculpted to perfection.

“Hey, you,” she greeted Jungkook with a slow, knowing smile, her voice dripping with familiarity.

They were close. Too close. The way she looked at him, the way he smirked at her—it didn’t take much to guess what kind of history they had.

Y/N felt something ugly crawl up her throat, but she swallowed it down. She refused to let it show. Instead, she forced a weak smile, one that probably looked as fake as the girl’s hair extensions.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she murmured, flicking her cigarette away as she immediately slipped back into the building without giving Jungkook time to respond. This entire thing kept running in her mind, it was as if this was all she could think of the month she has been here. Y/N had to get a fucking grip and get over this, all of the men she had met in her past were the same, men who were one in words yet did the opposite. She shouldn’t have been surprised about this, it was as if Universe sent a huge middle finger her way for being so closed off. -

Y/N sat across from her close friend at their usual café, the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. She stirred her drink absentmindedly, sighing as she recounted everything—Jungkook, the break room incident, the fake-looking girl, and the way she had walked away, feeling small and ridiculous for even being affected.

Her friend had a a knack for reading people far too well, listened attentively, nodding along as Y/N spoke. When she was finished, her friend leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.

“You know what I think?” she said thoughtfully.

Y/N groaned. “Here we go.”

“I think you’re stuck.”

Y/N frowned. “Stuck how?”

“You’ve been in your comfort zone for too long, Y/N,” her friend said seriously. “You’re always playing it safe, always hiding. And I get it—you like your space, your quiet world. But growth doesn’t happen in places that are comfortable. If you want to move on, if you want to feel better about yourself, you need to push yourself.”

Y/N arched a brow. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

“Easy. Start by doing things you wouldn’t normally do. Wear something different, change up your makeup, say yes to things instead of immediately retreating.” Her friend smiled. “Do it for yourself. Not for Jungkook, not for anyone else. Just you.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. It sounded simple enough, but it wasn’t. She had built her world around comfort and control, and stepping outside of that felt terrifying. But at the same time, a part of her knew her friend was right.

And so, the next morning, she did just that.

For once, she didn’t reach for her oversized clothes. Instead, she slid into a pair of skinny jeans, ones that hugged her figure in a way she wasn’t used to but didn’t hate. She paired it with a soft, slightly low-cut blouse—work-appropriate yet subtly flattering. Her makeup was a little more refined, enhancing rather than hiding. She stared at herself in the mirror, unsure at first. But the longer she looked, the more she felt… okay. Not completely confident, but okay.

And that was a start.

When Y/N arrived at the office, the reaction was immediate.

“Damn, Y/N, look at you!” one of her colleagues grinned.

“You look amazing!” another chimed in, eyes flickering over her in genuine appreciation.

She offered them a small, almost shy smile, mumbling a quiet “Thanks” as she made her way to her desk. It felt strange, the attention, but it wasn’t bad. For once, she wasn’t trying to disappear into the background.

The door opened, and in walked Jungkook.

She held her breath, but he barely reacted. He walked past her, barely sparing a glance before offering a casual, “Hey,” before settling into his place.

That was it.

Y/N exhaled, realizing something.

She hadn’t done this for him. And that meant his reaction—or lack of it—didn’t matter.

And for the first time in a long while, she felt something close to free.

The afternoon sun hung lazily in the sky as Y/N stepped outside for a quick smoke break. The air was thick with casual conversation and laughter as a few colleagues gathered, all taking a moment to unwind. She leaned against the railing, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling as she listened to the chatter around her.

“Y/N, you look different lately,” a voice piped up beside her. She turned to see one of her colleagues, a guy who had always been a little too flirty, watching her with an interested smirk. “In a good way,” he added, his eyes running over her outfit.

She gave him a polite smile, shrugging. “Just trying something new.”

“Well, it suits you,” he said, stepping a little closer. “We should celebrate the new you. Maybe grab some drinks after work? My place, maybe even watch a movie?” His voice had a certain implication to it, and Y/N felt her stomach twist.

She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’ll have to pass.”

“Oh, come on,” he pressed, his tone playful but persistent. “It’ll be fun. Just a casual hangout.”

Y/N stiffened slightly, the forced smile on her lips faltering. “I said no,” she replied, firmer this time, but he didn’t seem to take the hint, leaning in just a little too much.

Before she could react, another voice cut through the air.

“Is there a problem here?”

The mood shifted instantly.

Jungkook had been standing nearby, leaning against the wall with his own cigarette in hand, casually listening in. But now, his entire posture had changed—his jaw tight, his expression unreadable as he stared at the guy with an intensity that made everyone else go quiet.

The colleague blinked, caught off guard. “Nah, man. Just talking.”

Jungkook didn’t break eye contact. “Didn’t sound like just talking.” His voice was low, calm, but there was something sharp in it. Something warning.

The guy let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax, dude. Just asking her out.”

“She said no,” Jungkook stated plainly.

Silence stretched between them, tension thick enough to cut through. Y/N glanced between the two, her heart beating a little faster, not expecting Jungkook to step in like this.

The colleague raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. No harm done.” He took a step back, throwing Y/N one last glance before mumbling something under his breath and walking off.

Jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before flicking his gaze toward Y/N. “You good?”

She exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just studied her for a moment before finally nodding back, looking away as he took another drag.

But even as the conversation around them resumed, Y/N could still feel his presence beside her, solid and unwavering. And for some reason, that alone made her feel a little lighter.

-

The workday finally came to an end, and the office slowly emptied as people grabbed their bags, exchanging casual goodbyes. Y/N slung her purse over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out into the cool evening air.

She made her way toward the bus stop, the day’s events still sitting heavy in her mind. Just as she was about to put in her headphones to drown out her thoughts, she heard the familiar sound of an engine purring beside her.

Jungkook’s sleek car rolled up, the passenger window sliding down effortlessly. “Where you headed?” he asked casually, one hand resting on the wheel.

Y/N blinked, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “Uh… home?”

Jungkook smirked. “Get in. I’ll drive you.”

She hesitated.

This was unexpected. It wasn’t like they were close. Sure, they shared breaks, exchanged words, but this? This felt like something else.

“I’m fine, the bus is—”

“Slow. And uncomfortable,” he cut in smoothly. “Come on, it’s a thirty-minute ride. You’d rather sit in a crowded bus when I’m right here?” His gaze flickered toward her, something teasing yet unreadable behind those dark eyes.

Y/N bit her lip, the refusal sitting on the tip of her tongue. But then she remembered her friend’s words—step out of your comfort zone.

Maybe this was one of those moments.

With a small sigh, she relented. “Fine.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, she was instantly engulfed in warmth, the subtle hum of the car’s engine vibrating beneath her. And the scent—God, his scent—wrapped around her, all masculine spice and something distinctly him. She forced herself to focus on buckling her seatbelt rather than the fact that she was sitting next to Jungkook in a confined space, inhaling his cologne like it was some kind of drug.

He pulled onto the road, one hand lazily gripping the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift.

“So,” he mused after a moment, glancing at her. “What’s your deal?”

Y/N frowned. “My deal?”

“Yeah. You don’t talk much. You keep to yourself. And yet…” He trailed off, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’ve been looking different lately. Acting different too.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “So I put on better clothes and now I’m a mystery?”

Jungkook chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the car. “You were already a mystery. This just makes you more interesting.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but felt the heat creeping up her neck. The conversation flowed easier than she expected, light banter mixed with moments of silence that weren’t uncomfortable. The drive went by quicker than she thought, and before she knew it, Jungkook was pulling up in front of her apartment building, shifting the car into park.

She turned to thank him, but the words caught in her throat.

The air between them shifted.

The low hum of the engine did nothing to mask the way the tension suddenly thickened, heavy and lingering. The dim glow of the streetlights outside barely illuminated the inside of the car, casting soft shadows across Jungkook’s sharp features.

His gaze settled on her, slow and deliberate.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around her purse.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering down to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “You’re hard to read, you know that?” His voice was lower now, smoother.

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, forcing a small smile. “Maybe I like it that way.”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Yeah?”

She nodded, gripping the handle of the door before things could spiral into something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.”

He didn’t stop her. Didn’t say anything else. Just watched as she slipped out of the car and made her way to her building.

But she could feel his gaze on her, lingering, burning, until she finally disappeared inside—her heart hammering against her ribs the entire way up to her apartment.

[zepskies]

Writing Update ✍🏽

Hey, friends! I haven't done one of these in a while, have I? lol

Well here we go! I just finished posting the last chapter of Between the City & the Stars (Dean Winchester x Reader | 1940s AU). 💖

Before we dive into some Jason Teague for Jacklesverse Bingo, I have a surprise Dean AU story for you that brings us back to the modern world, and it's a firefighter!Dean AU! ❤️‍🔥 (No, it's not set in the Smoke Eater-verse, but there's a little one-shot for that series coming in the future. 😉)

This one is a request from a new member of my Patreon, @redhoodieone. It's a whopper of a two-parter for Dean, called...

IF I STAY

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

👀 Sneak Peek

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. You gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

⋆˙⟡ Part 1 coming 3/16!

⋆˙⟡ Or read Part 1 on Patreon now! - Part 2 will be posting there on 3/14~

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @impala-dreamer @supernotnatural2005