#but also. it was so wonderful for that 1 afternoon i used it.

[vanillabat99]

I still have the wheelchair my aunt gave me, so I'm not too upset about today, but also I'm just so confused about why my OT doesn't think I need a chair???

My standing tolerance is currently like, 2mins MAX. I understand that I'm working on increasing it so I can actually do things around the house, but how am I supposed to leave my house when there's shitty sidewalks and snow and my walker can't even handle rough pavement. Even now that we have a plan in place to work on my tolerance, I'm not supposed to be standing for more than 1min at a time, so again, how am I supposed to go anywhere or do anything.

My therapist and even the pain specialist I saw both seemed to be on board with me getting a wheelchair, and my Beautiful Wife is of the opinion that I should've had one years ago. My OT seemed really great at our initial appointment and aside from this one thing she was pretty good today, so hopefully this just takes time ._.

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[thelostconsultant]

Instant dad - part 1

pairing: Oscar Piastri x ex!reader

summary: You have no choice but to tell Oscar he has a five years old son. Now he wants to be a part of his life to make things complicated...

note: Oscar is in his early 30s, so yeah, there's a time jump.

[pilot]

A bit over a week later Oscar was sitting in his rented car in the school’s parking lot, thinking about how this conversation could go. According to you, they were aware of the fact he had not known Oliver existed until recently, so he hoped they didn’t expect him to talk about what he was like. Sure, over the past week he asked you about him, he wanted to prepare for meeting him, but they hadn’t met in person. How could he know what to say? After taking a deep breath, he got out and went inside, feeling more nervous than he did when he was getting in the car before a race.

If he was this nervous now, what would he feel like before meeting his son? 

Spending years in a boarding school prepared him for this meeting, and the principal was everything he imagined him to be. He was polite, not making a fuss over the fact he was–let’s say–famous. He even apologized for the mess he caused, saying he understood it was probably quite a shock for him, but this was the protocol, and they couldn’t make an exception. Oscar kept nodding, even assuring him it was okay, although deep down he was still confused and unsure of things. 

All of this despite his conversation with his mother, who had been overjoyed when she saw a video of Oliver, saying he was truly just like him, and she couldn’t wait to have the chance to meet her grandchild in person. But she also told him maybe this was the best thing that could happen to him. Having a child is truly an experience, and since he was still five, they had the chance to have a wonderful relationship. “You say he loves F1. Just imagine how happy he would be if he could go to some race weekends with you. You could teach him so much about racing, and you could bond over that,” she said. 

After he parked in front of your house in the afternoon, Oscar went to the trunk to get everything he brought with himself. From signed merch from both himself and Lando–just to be sure–to toy racing cars, he had a wide variety of gifts. Something will hopefully become a favorite, an item that he would keep close to himself. Maybe he went overboard, maybe he could’ve brought only one thing, but he had no idea what Oliver liked, so he couldn’t pick just one item. 

“Please, don’t tell me you brought all this for him.”

He looked up with a questioning hum, only to find you standing next to him on the sidewalk. Seeing you again brought back memories of your time together, of all of your little adventures during the short time you spent together, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you fled because you found out you were pregnant. If you didn’t leave him so suddenly, would things be different now? Would you be a big happy family? 

Clearing his throat, he flashed a sheepish smile at you. “I couldn’t choose,” he admitted as he grabbed the duffel bag and followed you to the front door. He couldn’t help but wonder what he could expect, and he had to ask you the most important thing. “Did you tell him that he was meeting his father today?” You nodded. That was good. “Is he excited?”

You bit on your lower lip as you watched him, clearly thinking about how to answer the question. But after a short break, you let out a sigh. “He’s a little confused, I think. My boyfriend, Alejandro, met him when he was only two, the three of us spent a lot of time together, and he moved in last year. Oliver… He assumed my boyfriend was his dad, which in a way he is, but we had to sit him down and explain the situation to him,” you said, looking sad all of a sudden. 

It was clear now why you were so against telling Oliver the truth. You wanted him to be close to your boyfriend, and you were probably afraid things between them would change once he got into the picture. Maybe you were even afraid things between you and your boyfriend would change too. He couldn’t blame you for that, but now that he knew he had a son, Oscar wanted to be a part of his life. He didn’t want to be some asshole who ignored his own blood. 

Once inside, he put the bag on the floor and followed you to the living room where Oliver was watching some cartoon on TV. Now that he saw him in person, he felt warmth spread through his body, because this kid looked exactly like he did at his age. You cleared your throat next to him to get your son’s attention, and when the kid noticed him, his eyes grew wide from surprise. He got off the couch and slowly walked over to them, his eyes never leaving his face as he tried to process who their guest was. 

“Hello, Oliver,” Oscar said as he crouched down. 

“You’re Oscar Piastri!” he yelled excitedly. 

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “I am.”

You reached out to ruffle your son’s hair, then leaned down to be on somewhat eye level with him. “Honey, remember when I said your daddy was going to jump in to see you?” The little boy nodded. “It’s Oscar. He’s your dad,” you told him softly.

Suddenly the excitement was replaced by disbelief, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you as he tried to process what he’d just been told. The corners of Oscar’s lips curled into a smile as he watched him, waiting patiently for the child’s decision. 

“So he’s my dad?” Oliver asked, earning a nod from you. “Does this mean I’m a Piastri?” It was Oscar’s turn to nod. “Mom, why am I not called Piastri?”

His eyes moved over to you just in time to see you gulp, clearly having trouble figuring out what to say to that. He couldn’t blame you for your confusion, it probably hadn’t occurred to you that one day you would have to respond to this question. With a kind smile, he put a hand on your arm, then turned to his son. “Because I’ve been away for a little too long. But I’m here, your mom and I can discuss if we could change that if you want,” he finished, barely daring to glance up at you, expecting to meet an angry look in your eyes.

But you didn’t look angry, if anything, you seemed relieved that he came to your rescue. There was a glint in your eyes, though, that told him you weren’t happy that Oliver brought up his surname. As he thought about it, it occurred to him that you had mentioned how you considered your boyfriend to be his father in a way, so maybe you would have rather given him his name. 

You placed a soft kiss on your son’s head, then informed him that you would leave the two of them alone so they could get to know each other. Father and son watched you leave the room, then he turned back to the child with a smile. “I brought you some things. Wanna see them?” he asked him, and when the little boy nodded, he went to grab his bag. 

As he opened the zipper, Oliver stood by his side, watching his every move with a happy smile on his face. Oscar pulled out the gifts, one by one, and couldn’t hold back his laugh as he watched his son proudly wearing his new baseball cap and shirt as he examined the toy car in his small hands. He began to talk about the last race, excitedly recounting the most memorable moments, including the end when his father crossed the finish line first. His big brown eyes turned to him, then he said that he was so happy he was here. 

When he wrapped his short arms around him, Oscar did the same and even pressed a kiss on the kid’s head. There was undeniably a certain connection between them that he couldn't explain, but they both knew it was there, otherwise his son probably wouldn't be this chill with the idea of being alone with a stranger. Okay, that and the fact he was his favorite driver.

They sat down in the middle of the living room, and Oliver decided to talk about his favorite books, proudly telling his father that he knew how to read, and that according to you and your boyfriend he was really good at it. “The other kids can barely read yet,” he said with a smug smile, “and I'm already learning math!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Oscar asked him, but the boy only shook his head. “I should teach you. I started when I was younger than you, and my mom refused to play with me after a while.”

“Because you were so good?” 

With a shrug, he stretched his arms above his head. “I don't know, but I guess I was better than her. Not sure about other people, though,” he admitted with a warm smile.

Oliver let out a thoughtful hum. “Is she as awesome as my mom?” he suddenly asked, looking back at him. 

A laugh escaped him at the thought, which made his son tilt his head to the side in question. “That depends on who you ask. She loves to embarrass me online, which isn't always a good thing, but I love her, she's the best mum I could ask for. And there are a lot of people, especially my fans, who absolutely adore her for this gentle bullying,” he added with a laugh.

“My mom would never do that,” Oliver stated, his little nose scrunching at the thought. “She loves me too much.”

The two of them spent the next hour or so talking, sometimes stopping when the little boy got distracted by something he caught on TV. But he seemed interested, he wanted to learn as much as he could, and it was true the other way around, because Oscar asked a lot of questions too. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until you walked in to tell your son it was time for dinner, a statement that came with the question whether or not his dad was allowed to stay. 

You didn’t let him stay, saying he was probably tired from traveling so much, then gave him a begging look to make him speak up too. Oscar let out a sigh and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m staying for a few days and your mum let me come to see you every day,” he said happily. “In fact, I’ll be looking out for you tomorrow while she’s at work. How does that sound?”

Oliver squealed from happiness before he hugged you both, thanking you over and over again for letting him come over. “Can we go to the zoo?” he asked with bright eyes as he looked over at his father. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Oscar responded with a nod. 

“Okay, time to wash your hands, Alejandro will be home soon, so we can start to eat,” you asked your son. Once he said goodbye to Oscar and disappeared, you turned to him with a forced smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

With a sigh, he stepped closer to you. “You were right, he’s a lot like me,” he began quietly, then stopped to consider what to say. He knew deep down that you wanted him to stay away, you didn’t want him to ruin the balance of your little family, but how could he give you that after getting to know his son? Oliver was his blood, he was truly a mini version of him, there was no way he would turn his back on him now. 

You knew. After all these years, despite your time together being so short, you still knew him well enough to know what was going on in his head. “Just don’t break his heart, okay?” you asked, earning a nod from him. “Thanks for… everything. Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

tagged: @hc-dutch @nxlx96 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @laanswife @chunkpiboli @pakotrzl @1800-love-me

important: the taglist is closed. in fact, this might be the first and last time i'm doing this, because leaving someone out accidentally stresses me. sorry.

Anyway, what do you think? Should I continue?

[gghostwriter]

Lips of a Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Future take Summary: A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: This is actually an anon request about going on a museum date with Spencer and interrupting his ramblings with a kiss and I couldn’t help myself so I connected this to ‘Wanted: A Gentleman.’ I also used my favorite painter here as a prop to yap so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! masterlist

It was a Saturday afternoon when the BAU team closed a serial killer case in the state of New York. They were called in four nights ago and the stress mixed with a high dose of adrenaline that had run through their veins were on it’s way out of their system, leaving all the members dead to their feet and wishing for much needed rest over the remaining weekend.

“Hotch,” Reid captured his unit chief’s attention as they waited for the remaining members, Morgan and Rossi, to come down from their respective hotel rooms. “I’d like to stay behind, if that’s alright.”

There was a minuscule eyebrow raise from Hotch in question.

“Huh,” Emily mused, a teasing smile appearing on her face. “Funny, there’s also a certain someone that we know—” she gestured to herself and JJ. “—who’s in New York today. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

The blonde profiler let out a laugh. “Yeah, I wonder if that has something to do with Spence staying behind.”

“Well, does it?” Emily lightly elbowed him in jest.

Spencer clears his throat, trying his best to come off casual but utterly failing with his voice going up an octave. “Maybe.”

“It’s the weekend, take your day off,” Hotch conceded. “And Reid, congratulations.”

“For what?”

A tenor voice answered behind him. Morgan, it was Morgan. “For finally getting a girlfriend.”

“Good on you, kid,” Rossi added on, patting his back as he made his way through.

———

Locks of hair were escaping your loosely tied bun as you brisk walked to get to the steps of the MET museum. The emergency meeting with suppliers ran a little later than you anticipated making you already fifteen minutes late from your agreed meet up with Spencer.

A smile graced your face as your thoughts settled on the perfect gentleman. It had been a perfect match made by your three friends, Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

A blind date that had gone so great that it blossomed another date and another. This spontaneous one marked as the fifth and it brought to mind the first meeting at the steps of the Smithsonian and Spencer’s chivalrous move of tying your loose shoe lace.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” your voice reaching Spencer’s ears before he spots you adjusting the straps of your falling shoulder bag approaching his form. “The supplier didn’t come on time so I—I’m sorry.”

He rocked on his heels, hands wrapped around his satchel strap. “That’s alright, I just arrived myself.”

You knew it was a lie but appreciated his effort in trying to make you feel better. That was just one of the many things you could see yourself falling for in Spencer. As if you weren’t already halfway there.

“Shall we?” His lips forming a smile, no doubt remembering those were the exact words he said during the first date.

You giggled, echoing the same response. “We shall.”

“So is there a specific section you want to visit first?” Spencer asked as he flashed two admission tickets at the entrance.

“Hm,” you scooted closer to his svelte protective form, avoiding the onslaught of tourists groups excitedly entering. “The gallery of European paintings?”

He smiled and nodded. His left hand hovering near the small of your back, never touching—its’ warmth penetrating the thick layers of your coat and sweater while the gesture made your heart flutter fast like the hummingbird’s wings.

There was comfortable silence in between you. Inconspicuous side glances and shy smiles that say a thousand more words that seemingly can’t or won’t be spoken out loud. The tranquility was a sharp contrast to the bustling and echoing noise all around the museum as guests discuss with their partners the surrounding art and take photos as personal mementos.

Your feet came to a stop in front of your favorite artist’s work. “I always did prefer his work more than Van Gogh.”

Spencer smiled, gaze warm on your side profile as his eyes traced the escaped locks of hair that framed the modern art standing beside him which was you and your expressive face. His fingers, as if hypnotized, reached out to tuck one side that casted a shadow on your feature behind your pinking ear. “Actually, when you look at Klimt’s early landscape paintings, you could see he took inspiration from the Dutch painter.”

“Really?” Your body twisting to face him.

He studied your body language. Arms limp at the sides, open and trusting. Torso slightly leaning forward, attention fully captivated. And eyes wide, twinkling with curiosity. “Yeah, yeah—” he nodded, his own body mimicking yours and its unsaid language. “—and although Klimt’s colors are stronger in contrast, the impact from having viewed Van Gogh’s paintings in his earlier life can be spotted in his brush strokes and painting subjects.”

“Spence, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t strike me as an art critic. Is it a side of you that I’m only finding about now?” You teased.

“No,” he laughed, tucking his hands at the front of his jeans to fight the urge to touch you once more. “I read about it.”

“Can you tell me more then?” you further leaned in and whispered. “I bet you’d do a slightly better job than their pre-recorded audio tours.”

Spencer threw his head back and let a few chuckles echo on the walls. Your mind and its clever wit had impressed him since the first date. It was one of the many things he could see falling for in you. That was a half lie. In full truth, it was one of the many things that made him fall for you.

“Well, Klimt’s most expensive painting was previously stolen by the Nazis during WWII when they occupied Austria. Austrian Museum housed it after the war but there was a court battle for it and they had to return it the the family owner. And in 2006, Oprah actually bought it—” your smooth hands cupped his face, bringing his ramblings into a stuttering halt. His heartbeat, nestled within his ribcage, threatening to break from its confines as you stood on your tip toes, leaving a series of small kisses at ends of his mouth before landing on his awaiting lips.

“I—I’m so sorry,” eyes wide as you leaned back from his reach. A move that didn’t widen the gap as his body hunched itself forward, following you in its wake. “I couldn’t resist.”

He answered with a longer kiss, fingers twining with your silky locks of hair that had fascinated him since a while ago. “Don’t be. I’ve been wanting to do that too, I just didn’t know if you’d welcome it.”

You exhaled a giggle, cheeks pink with happiness. “You definitely can, anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” his smile mirrored the euphoria written on your face. If he were to try to describe this very emotion, he’d compare it to walking on cloud nine. To winning a lottery. Or perhaps to finding an invaluable art piece meant just for him.

And while the surroundings were still dull and mundane, there were a burst of colors that splashed Spencer’s world anew as his warm comforting hand now finally found its way to yours and his thumb invisibly painting abstract at the back of your palm.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

GET HER BACK! || PAIGE BUECKERS

summary — after a week, nika invites you to go out with the team, giving paige an opportunity to make ammends

pairings: paige bueckers x fem cheerleader!reader

word count: 822

warnings: none

authors note: hii heres part 2 of casual!! i was gonna use ivy by frank ocean for this butttt i wanna save that for a more gut wrenching fic maybe series 🤓 ENJOY!!

part 1

It was a week since the events that had happened with Paige and you guys haven’t talked since.

Paige did try to reach out the next day, calling you multiple times but you refused to answer.

It was currently three in the afternoon. Your team had half of the court to use for practice while the other half belonged to the women’s basketball team.

“Alright, let’s run it one more time!” Your coach yelled as you all got into position.

The whole routine, you could feel Paige’s eyes on you. Her eyes scanned your body, watching your every move.

“Alright girls, let’s take five then get back into it right away!” Your coach clapped as everyone scattered towards the bleachers, trying to take advantage of the break.

You sat on the bleachers, trying to catch your breath before sipping your water.

“Hey girl!” Nika greeted as the whole team walked up to you. Including Paige.

You smiled warmly at her. “Hi! How’s practice?”

“You know coach, always up in our ass during the season.” You both chuckled. “You were great out there! Right Paige?” She nudged her shoulder forcefully.

“Yeah. You were amazing.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.”

KK cleared her throat. “We were wondering if you wanted to go out with us tonight?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know-“

“Come on!” Aaliyah butt in. “We miss you.” The rest of the team agreed behind her.

You sighed, giving in. “Alright. Just send me the details later.”

“I was also wondering if we could talk?” Paige whispered as her teammates cheered and conversed on their own, the two of you going unnoticed by the others.

“Paige, I don’t think-“ You were cut off by the sound of your coach’s whistle.

“Did I say five hours?! Wrap it up and let’s run it again!”

—

“Hey Y/N!” Nika greeted you, giving you a warm hug. You could tell she was already tipsy.

“Hi Nika.” You giggled, making eye contact with Paige as you returned the hug. You could see her jaw clench once her teammate started to rub your back.

You were going to have a lot of fun with this.

You sat next to Nika, grateful she got the imaginary memo as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Y/N!” Azzi spoke up. “You guys have nationals in a few weeks don’t you?”

You nod eagerly. “Coach has been pushing us a lot lately, we might have to be sharing the court a lot more for the next few weeks.”

“That’s fine with me!” Nika smirked. “I get to see you a lot more then.” She pulled you closer with her arm.

“Nika, you are so drunk.” You giggled, playing with her hair in hopes that Paige would notice the two of you.

The blonde wasn’t having it. She stood up and stomped towards the two of you.

“Y/N, can we talk?” She clenched her jaw.

“Uh-“ You faced Nika who motioned for you to go. “Yeah whatever.”

You stood up, following Paige to the exit, smirking to yourself.

Paige turned to face you. “Since when were you and Nika a thing?”

You scoffed. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

“No! I just-“ She groaned. “Nevermind. I wanted to apologize for everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. “Was that really what I meant to you? Just having fun-?”

“No!” She put her head in her hands. “This past week has been hell for me. I missed you so bad and I didn’t even realize the effect you had on me until all my friends pointed it out.”

“But-“

“Let me finish. You can say anything you want if your opinion stays the same.” She runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. “You actually cared about me, about my feelings. You were there for me when no one else was! You made me laugh and feel like I was actually worth something. And all I did, was make you feel like you were taken advantage of, and I am so fucking sorry. There’s no one else for me Y/N. Just you.”

You were in shock. You couldn’t process the words that just came out of her mouth. “Paige, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything.” She took a step back. “You can take all the time you need. I’ll still be here waiting-“

You cut her off by wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her with all your emotions.

You could feel her grin as she kissed you back, pulling you closer as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Be my girlfriend?” She grinned.”

“I gotta think about it.” You teased, furrowing your brows to make it look like you were thinking.

Paige rolled her eyes. “What a tease.”

“Should we go back inside?” You asked once you both pulled away.

“We can go to my dorm. I think I might kill Nika if she puts her hands on you one more time.”

“You were jealous!”

“No I wasn’t!”

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 1 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which you have a fat crush on your brother’s best friend, without getting much success. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my first work here but anyways i hope you guys like it ! maybe I'll do a part 2...

You watch proudly in his shirt as you clap in the game's first minutes, chanting while taking pictures of him.

The first half was pretty equal, with some shots from both teams but neither could score. You could see that Mason was getting nervous. He stopped his movements abruptly when the referee called for a corner and looked at the crowd, his eyes sparkling with tenseness.

He gazed down at where his family (and therefore also yours) was and licked his lips. You couldn't help but wonder what would your brother think of your little —huge— crush on his childhood best friend.

In the 34th minute, he passed the defenders and tried to score with a pass from Ben Chilwell, making the goalkeeper lose his balance and thus scoring.

You celebrated the goal screaming it to your brother's face and he couldn’t help but smile at you, happy that you were having a good time. Your cheeks were red after Mason approached the stands and celebrated the goal, dedicating a kiss to where you were.

And that was the effect that Mason Mount had on people, especially you.

Mason was your brother's best friend, you had known him for years. It was a stupid crush that all your friends grew out of but not you. You had to keep drooling every time he was near you, that being almost every day because your brother had him over to dinner nearly every night.

You remember the day the Mount family moved next to your house, a loud and proud British family— Debbie and Tony, Stacey, Lewis and Mason. The day after they had moved in, Debbie and Tony turned up outside your door, asking if your older brother was interested in playing football with Mason.

It didn’t take long for your brother to become close to Mason, both at the cusp of boyhood. Their friendship only bloomed from there.

After spending almost every weekend watching your brother and Mason training, to spending most afternoons around the Mount house playing, you felt like family.

You always found yourself drawn to the boy next door although he was away a lot of the time, playing different matches and training. Mason’s natural affinity and talent for the game, ensured the quality of his skills.

He was slightly older so no doubt he found you childish and would always moan when his parents made him spend time with you.

—Mom, not again! I don't want to play with her, she's boring! —Mason exclaimed with an expression of obvious annoyance on his face.

Mason's mother was the first to figure out your crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the Mounts at a family dinner when you were around thirteen.

Both families were playing football, as usual, while the adults were preparing supper. When you had the ball you felt your body lean way too far back and Mason tried to act on impulse, stretching his body to catch you in time.

—Hold on to me! —Mason exclaimed, extending his arms towards you. However, the weight of the fall was too much, and in an instant, they were both on the grass, in some sort of mess.

—Mase, God, I'm so sorry! I dragged you with me! —you apologized, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks, turning them crimson red.

He brushed the grass off his jacket with an angry expression. —Well done. First minutes into the game and you're already annoying.

—Thanks for trying! —you laughed, shyly. When there was a long silence, you realized that Mason was not joking and was serious. —Sorry, I…

Debbie looked from afar at the little girl carefully while she kept her eyes glued to her son's. She watched her cute little cheeks tinted red as Mason scoffed and begged you to stay away from him.

Debbie would soon get used to it as she watched you fall in love with her son over the next few years.

Until your first boyfriend. An age difference of three years was not a big deal since it was a common factor among your friend's partners. You had recently turned sixteen years old and you thought that you had met the boy who could take you out of the charm that had her wrapped around Mase.

Lyon was older, he was eighteen years old, like Mason. You had met him at school on a spring afternoon. You walked through the school hallways, books clutched to your chest. A gust of wind caused some of the books to fly out of your hands, scattering them across the hallway floor.

Lyon was passing by and noticed the scene. He approached you with a smile and that is how the story started.

Your brother didn't approve of your new boyfriend. He knew that her sister just wanted to show his best friend that the age difference wasn't that important.

Being with Lyon was great at first. You knew that he was not the love of your life, but for the moment he seemed to play the role quite well, so that was fine with you. It was a Friday night and you and your brother were at a party at the house of one of your brother's friends.

You were downstairs in the kitchen while your friends watched you drink alcohol like there was no tomorrow. They realized something was bothering you, but decided not to mention it.

—Where is the lover boy anyway? —Spoke one of your friends.

Your lack of response was when they realized that Lyon was the reason for the sadness that was painted on their best friend's face. He abandoned you, once again. This seems routine, they thought.

You slammed your empty red glass against the kitchen counter, wiping the drip from your chin as you decided that was enough.

—I'll go look for him.

From the corner of the room, your brother wished you good luck and with courage, you stumbled through the party. The house was huge. Enormous windows covered the entire house. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights going down to the beach.

And there he sat, on the stairs leading to the illuminated outdoor pool, Lyon. A thin blonde girl was sitting on his lap, probably older than you. She took the cigarette from Lyon's lips and placed it on top of her painted red lips.

Tears welled in your eyes as you returned to the house with your heels in hand. With all the bad luck in the world, as you returned, you heard in the background:

—Baby, relax. —You ignored your boyfriend's call as you made your way through the crowd to return to the kitchen, hoping that your brother was still there.

You made it to the kitchen before your boyfriend grabbed you by the back of your arm and pushed you against the kitchen island.

—Come on, I didn't even do anything—

—She was on your lap.

—It's not that serious, okay?—

—It's a big problem! I'm humiliated! —You shouted back, creating a scene you desperately wanted to avoid. Lyon's grip tightened around your arm as he tried to wriggle out of your grasp.

—Let go of me, you're hurting me. —That only made his grip tighten around your arms.

—Let her go, mate. —Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt Lyon back away.

—Oh yeah?… and what are you going to do about it, Mount? —That's when the punches were thrown and Lyon was left hunched over holding his split lip. Your now ex-boyfriend was grabbed by someone else before he could lunge at who you assumed was your brother, but when you turned your head you saw Mason shaking your hand out of pain.

His knuckles were red and his eyes were darker than what you were used to.

—Let's go to the car. —Said Mason, you nodding your head. —Get in the car. —He said. His tone was strong, not what she was used to.

Still, the ride to your house was silent, you sitting in the front with Mase, while your brother passed out in the back seat. Faint English music played on the radio as Mason's eyes were firmly fixed on the road.

Mason finally spoke. —You really don't know how to choose them, don’t you? — You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because he was right and you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Mase rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

—I got them! —You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Mason in the eye for the first time since the party.

—Thank you. —Mason didn't want to hear it. You were just her best friend’s sister.

—It's no big deal. —

—No… really thank you, Mason. —you smiled and Mason listened too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Mason and not Mase.

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back.

—Just... make sure the next one isn't a complete idiot, yeah? —he whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

That sentence broke your poor little heart.

[le3hnzz]

love on act. lhs

main. - prt 1 - prt 2 - prt 3

AFTER GOING TO THE MALL, you bought some clothes, mainly a dress that you might use for the party, honestly this is your first time going to a formal party, most parties you’ve been are never this formal, so you picked a white silk dress that flows down to your feet, then a pair of white mary janes heels, and lastly a few jewelry to match the final look. It was still 5 pm in the afternoon so you had plenty of time to get ready. You put on some light makeup, then curl your hair to make it flowy, and lastly you put on the dress, and finally accessories, and you’re off to go. 

Heeseung was waiting downstairs, looking at his watch. He glares at you, but says nothing. He hold out his hand, waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, we’ll be late.” He complains, looking annoyed.

“Right..” you replied and took his hand, and went inside the passenger seat, and he sat at the driver seat. 

The car ride was very quiet, or.. maybe too quiet, you both sat there in silence, only sounds of cars passing by can be heard from the inside. You both arrived at the destination, he went out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door for you. He takes you to the red carpet party, there are tons, and tons of paparazzi. He takes your arm and leads you to the paparazzi, as you both start to smile at them. 

Heeseung smiles for the camera, and then wraps an arm around your waist as if he was in love with you. He whispers in your ear, “Pretend to love me and be affectionate with me. Otherwise, I'll end you.” He warns you, just to make sure you won’t act badly, so you decide to act also.

He smiles and wraps his arms around you, he kisses your head as he whispers in your ear, “Just follow my lead, and act like you love me.” He warns again, before looking at the camera and smiling again. The paparazzi snap some photos, some ask you some questions but you can only answer a few before some more photos are taken. Heeseung takes your hand and guides you inside the party. 

There are tons of rich people at the party, you sat at a circular table that was surrounded by seats, and Heeseung has left you alone, and is now talking to some CEO’s. You don’t really know what to do now, there is a buffet filled with all kinds of foods, you want to eat but, who knows if you are going to get poisoned. You can hear some whispering, some people are gossiping about your relationship between you and Heeseung, you decide to ignore the gossiping, instead you decide to eat some food, there are multiple dishes, like salad, sushi, there’s steak, and plenty of other choices for anyone, some people are watching and gossiping even more, it’s really hard to ignore their stares. 

“I heard that Heeseung’s new wife came from money.” 

“Yeah, I saw her, they don’t really look good together.” 

“I wonder how they ended up together, did Heeseung’s parents force her into this marriage? She seems so innocent.” 

They keep on gossiping and some are even staring at you, making you feel uncomfortable. You decided to eat some salad, and drink some wine to ease your comfort. You continue to eat the salad and drink wine, occasionally some of the gossiping people would come up to you and ask if your relationship is real or not, a few of them also tell you that they think you guys are cute together, you continue to eat and ignore them. 

THERE ARE SOME MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, and Heeseung is now dancing with another women, some of them even look at you and smirk they know that they’re making you feel jealous, and they’re probably right, you don’t really care anyways since it’s just an arranged marriage because they don’t have feelings for each other, right?

Heeseung dances with multiple women, and you don’t know why you feel hurt or upset that he’s dancing with other women, maybe it’s jealousy or heartbreak. You don’t know, but the truth is you are upset, but you can’t admit it. What are you, jealous? No, why would you be jealous, you’re in an arranged marriage and you don’t love each other. 

You sat down at the table, and continued to watch Heeseung dance with the other women, he looks like he;s enjoying himself, but you feel a little jealous and angry for some reason. It doesn’t make sense, why are you jealous? You both don’t even have feelings for eachother, you only act on it. So you decided to go outside to the garden and look out at the night view. As you get up from your chair, you hear some more gossip about you, the whispers are just following you everywhere you go. 

As you walked outside into the garden, the view was beautiful, it was filled with beautiful flowers, the night sky was illuminated with stars, and the moon was shining bright, it shines like a star against the dark black sky, the wind blowing against your body, making you shiver. 

While you’re in the garden, you look up at the stars from time to time, and you feel a bit lonely. You look at the other people in the garden, most of them are couples, happily chatting and laughing, you feel a bit envious and lonely. You stand there for a bit, looking up at the stars, and looking at the happy couples laughing, you suddenly feel cold, so you wrap your arms around yourself and hug yourself to feel warm, you felt a tap on your shoulder, you looked behind and found Heeseung standing there, looking at you with a blank expression on his face. 

“What..?” You asked him.

Heeseung stood there, not looking too happy, this made you worry a little, but you said nothing.  “What are you doing out here?” He asked, he seemed a bit confused as he stared down at you.

“Just.. looking out at night, i mean the garden is beautiful isn’t it..?” You replied to his question.

He stands by your side, and looks out at the garden, he nods before replying. “Yes, it is,” His tone was flat and emotionless, not conveying the same feeling of admiration for the garden as you have, you leaned on to the flat surface of the railing, and looked up to the sky smiling. He stares at you for a moment, thinking before he speaks again. 

“You looked cold, do you want my jacket?” He offers a small hint of kindness in his tone, he takes off his jacket, and offers it to you, but he still has a somewhat cold demeanor. 

“N-no it’s fine..” You rejected his offer, but he places his jacket on your shoulders anyway, disregarding your refusal. He wraps his jacket around you, making it easier for you to stay warm in the cold night. The jacket was warm and comforting, making you feel a bit warmer than before. He just stares at you, and decides to stay outside with you, it seems that he doesn’t want you to be alone for some reason, he stays there with you, not talking to you, just watching you watch the sky.

cpright. @le3hnzz

tgs. @mheretoreadff

[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Me or him (part 3)

~part 1 & part 2

pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin

genre: angst, smut

word count: 2.6k

warning/s: swearing, brief description of sex, cheating, lots of drama & angst in this chapter, brief description of a panic attack, toxic behaviour, lots of fighting

a/n: i was supposed to work on cult of love but i was in an angsty mood, so enjoy ig and please reblog if you like it🫶🏻 (also this is not the ending of this fic, there will be more)

~check out my: Masterlist ~part 4

Hyunjin knows that Felix has always been a touchy-feely guy. He knows it's the way his friend expresses love. And he's used to it.

But he couldn't help but notice the lingering touches between his girlfriend and his best friend. Even though all three of you are friends, it seemed that gradually, hugs between you and Felix were tighter and longer.

He told himself that he's just imagining things and that there is no way there would ever be anything like that happening between the two of you.

Not when you're smiling at him so beautifully, bathed in the afternoon sun, wearing your pretty dress as you share a picnic blanket.

Hyunjin's hands itch to take out his sketchbook and fill it with yet another sketch of you, the lines and curves etched into his mind so deep that he could draw you in his sleep.

But he longs more to feel you closer to him so while you bask in the beauty of the nature around you, he sneakily sits behind you, arms around your waist as he pulls you into his embrace.

You shriek in surprise, your back flush against his chest as he leans his chin on your shoulder.

"What are you doing?"- you chuckle.

"I wanna hold you a little while, before I start sketching you."- Hyunjin smiles, gently moving your hair to the other side.

You're about to answer something witty but Hyunjin's lips are pressed into your skin, right over your pulse that reveals your heart beating fast.

"Oh..."- is all that leaves your lips as your boyfriend kisses you gently and holds you tight.

Your eyes are closed and you tilt your head, enjoying the quiet and the warmth.

You're about to lose yourself when Hyunjin suddenly pulls away.

"Why'd you stop?"- you whine and he laughs cutely and annoyingly at your pouty face.

"We can continue this at home."- he smirks and kisses your cheek.

And you don't think about Felix.

Until you do. Until he somehow creeps into your mind while Hyunjin sketches you. And you wonder what he's doing right now and if he's thinking about you too.

And you also wonder why are you thinking about another man when all you need to be happy is right here with you, your sweet boyfriend Hyunjin who always tries his best and loves you more than you know?

-

You and Hyunjin stumble into your apartment, giddy with the good vibes you shared on your picnic date. You're laughing until you almost choke on your spit when you see Felix standing in your living room.

"Ugh... I let myself in. Hope y'all don't mind."

Right. He knows where the spare key is hidden.

"Lix! Oh my god, I haven't seen you in weeks!"- Hyunjin is quick to greet his friend and you feel like your legs are heavy. Like you've grown roots and you can't move from where you're standing.

"Yeah, sorry, I was working on some projects."- Felix says and looks at you, his arms opening up, silently beckoning you in a hug.

You move towards him automatically and pat him awkwardly. Hyunjin watches the whole interaction.

"Hi, y/n."- Felix smiles like nothing is wrong. "I brought brownies."- he adds, pointing to the kitchen.

"Oh we haven't had those in a long time. I missed them actually."- Hyujin says and almost skips to the kitchen. Little does he know you've had those brownies for breakfast more times than you can count.

You throw daggers at Felix with your eyes while Hyunjin is busy digging into the tupperware his friend brought.

Felix gives you a smug smile before it melts into his innocent one.

"I thought we could hang out today. I'm sorry I didn't call in advance. I just wanted to surprise you guys."- he says.

"Nonsense! You're always welcome here, Lix."- Hyunjin says. "Right, y/n?"

"Yeah, ofcourse."- you nod.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom."- Hyunjin gets up and leaves the kitchen.

You wait and listen for the bathroom door to click.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"- you whisper to Felix, fuming at his presence in your apartment.

"Me? Nothing. I'm here just to hang out with my friends. Is that not allowed?"- he smirks.

"What are you planning?"- you squint, your heart beating fast in anger, hands already starting to shake.

"Nothing. But, I must say. You look really pretty in that dress. How come you never wear dresses for me?"- Felix bites on his lip, giving you the elevator eyes.

"Why would I wear dresses for you?"- you say through gritted teeth.

"You're really hot when you're mad."- he whispers, reaching his hand to touch your face but you grab his wrist mid-air.

"Don't touch me."- you say angrily, and both of you step away from each other as you hear Hyunjin coming back.

Felix just smirks at you again.

And even though you tried to get out of it, make just the two of them hang out or somehow make Felix leave, you ended up sitting on the couch between them.

Hyunjin suggested a movie night, and Felix was ofcourse all for it and that's how you ended up practically cuddled between them.

Your brain is racing, heart beating out of your chest as Hyunjin leans his head on your shoulder and comments on the movie, completely unaware of Felix's wandering hand under the blanket.

You couldn't believe he was this bold. Hyunjin was not even an arm's length away from him and Felix somehow managed to sneak his hand on your thigh.

At first, you jumped a little and Hyunjin asked if you were alright and you made some poor excuse as Felix squeezed your plushy flesh.

You hated how it made you feel, how any touch by him, even if it was feather-like made your core throb. Felix knew exactly what he was doing.

So, you decided to excuse yourself and go to bed.

Hyunjin kept asking if you were alright and you kept answering that you were just tired.

-

You weren't tired, no far from that. You were turned on by Felix touching you while Hyunjin was right there. What the hell is wrong with you?, you think.

"Baby, you okay?"- Hyunjin peers into your room.

"Did Lix leave?"- you ask.

"He did."- Hyunjin says and comes in, closing the door behind him. "Are you mad at him or something?"- he cautiously asks, kneeling behind you as you lay wrapped up in your blanket.

"No... I just wanted us to have the day to ourselves."- you say.

"Aw baby, I'm all yours now, I promise."- Hyunjin leans over you, kissing your head. "You still tired or you wanna continue where we left off today?"- he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows and you chuckle at him as you turn to look at him.

"Remind me where we left off."- you tease and Hyunjin grips your blanket, slowly pulling it down and leaving you just in a shirt and panties.

He leans in and kisses your neck, his hands splayed on your hips as you spread your legs to make room for him.

You try hard to not think about anything or anyone else, as Hyunjin's gentle hands caress your skin, his lips hot against you, worshipping you with all he has.

You're still trying, when Hyunjin's deep inside you, touching spots no one else has, when he whispers praise and love into your ear. Your head is thrown back, eyes closed and you clench around him.

"Ah- Felix!"- lost in the pleasure, it slips out of your lips and you both freeze.

"What did you just say?"- Hyunjin stops his movement and your eyes snap open.

"What did I say?"- you hope he hasn't heard you. You hope you hadn't said it actually, maybe you just thought of it.

"Why the hell would you moan Felix's name?"- Hyunjin asks, slipping out of you, his face unreadable.

"I- I don't know, Hyun! It slipped out! We were hanging out with him earlier and-" -you scramble to sit up.

"Bullshit! We hung out with him a million times before and you've never moaned his name while were making love."- Hyunjin stands up, clearly mad.

"Hyunjin, it's not what you think-"

"And what is it I'm thinking y/n? Why don't you enlighten me?"

"I-"

"I can't do this right now."- Hyunjin shakes his head, picking some of his clothes up.

"Where are you going?"- you ask, eyes already welling up with tears.

"To clear my head, before I do shit I'll regret."- he says and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

You can't believe you just did that. You can't believe you moaned your lovers name right into your boyfriend's face.

Your heart starts racing as your stomach churns. Your breaths become laboured and your hands shake. You feel like you're slipping into a panicked state, unable to even see because of the tears blurring your vision.

Your hand reaches out for your phone and you shakily manage to go into your contacts and click on his name.

"F-Felix?"- your ears are buzzing.

"Y/n?"- he answers.

"Where a-are you?"- you barely choke out, a sob escaping your lips.

"I'm home. Where are you? What's wrong?!"- he sounds concerned.

"I... I made a mistake. Hyunjin left. Please. Please come see me. I think - I think I'm gonna have a panic attack."- you somehow manage to say.

"Fuck, okay I'll be right there. Just, just stay with me on the phone, okay? Just try and take deep breaths together with me, hm?"- you hear rustling, and him slamming the door of his apartment, you assume.

"Okay, I'll try."- you say, tears now freely streaming down your cheeks as you still sit in bed, clutching the blanket that is wrapped around your shaking body.

"I'll drive as fast as I can, okay?"- he says.

"Be safe."- you say, and Felix's hands grip the wheel harshly as he hits the gas.

"Sure."- he says. "Now, let's try and take those deep breaths in."

-

Felix arrives in less than twelve minutes, you hear his hurried footsteps running from the door to your room.

"Y/n?"- he calls out as he walks in and you look up at him, still in the same spot you were in when Hyunjin stormed out.

You can't really talk as you sob and hiccup and Felix rushes to your side, grabbing your shaking hands.

"What happened?"- he asks and you shake your head.

"It's okay, I'm here."- Felix sighs sadly, pulling you into his embrace, your hands grip his shirt and you bury your face into his chest and keep crying.

He's caressing your head, shushing you and whispering comforting words like he always does.

You manage to calm down a little after a few minutes.

"Can you tell me what happened now?"- Felix asks quietly, his hands coming up to wipe away your tears.

"I fucked up. I fucked up bad."

"What did you do?"- he asks, taking your hands in his once again.

"I- I accidentally said your name while Hyunjin and I were- you know-"

"Oh. Oh."- Felix looks stunned.

"He was so mad, Lix. Like he already knew something."

"What did he say?"

"He said he needs to clear his head before he does something he'll regret."- you say.

"Look, I'm not gonna lie and say I wouldn't be glad if the two of you broke up. But, I'm also your friend and I don't want you to be hurt."

"It's too late. I already hurt myself, it's all my fault."- you start crying again.

"Shh, I'm at fault too. You're not alone in this, y/n."- Felix says as he holds your face and leans in to kiss you and you let him.

You don't know why but you always let him. Your brain and your body find comfort in Felix, even though it's wrong. Even if he's using you in your fucked up state.

A voice inside you tells you he isn't just using you and that's probably why you can never push him away.

Not even when the bedroom doors open and you hear Hyunjin scoff.

Felix and you practically fly away from each other, startled by the sound.

"Hyunjin!"- you freak out as Felix stands up from the bed.

"I can't believe I was right. After everything, both of you put a knife in my back."- Hyunjin eyes the both of you, something distant and cold in his usually warm eyes.

"Hyunjin it's not-"

"Shut up, you cheating whore!"- he loses it suddenly.

"Don't talk to her like that!"- Felix intervenes.

"Or what? You gonna hit me after you fucked my girlfriend, huh best friend?"

Felix shuts his mouth, guilt finally catching up to him as a lump forms in his throat.

"How long have you two been going behind my back? Just answer me that."- Hyunjin breathes deeply, his ears and neck painted red in rage.

"A year or so."- you answer quietly.

"A year- Okay. Well. I'm done with the both of you. Don't even bother trying to explain or contact me. I'll send someone to pick my stuff up from here cause I don't ever wanna see your faces again. You two are disgusting and you deserve each other. Now you can enjoy together without me being in the way of your happiness."- Hyunjin spits and you can see tears forming in his eyes but he turns around quickly before either of you can react and he's gone.

Hyunjin is gone.

Rage bubbles up inside you, you're mad. You're mad at your poor decision making, at your weakness, you're mad at throwing away a good thing, you're mad at Felix but mostly at yourself.

Still, you take it out on him.

You get up and grab some of your clothes as Felix watches you getting dressed quickly.

"Are you happy now, Felix?"- you say angrily.

"Me? Oh, so now this is all my fault."- he throws his hands up angrily.

"It's not but you said you'd be happy if Hyunjin and I broke up. Are you happy now?"

"I didn't say that exactly. But, I'm also not exactly sad. I'm only worried about you."

"You don't get to worry about me."- you say, shaking with anger.

"W-what do you mean? What about us?"- his voice wavers.

"Us? There is no us, Felix. There never was and there never will be."

"Don't - don't say that. You don't mean that."- Felix looks pained. Your heart hurts because of everything. You can't take it. You can't look at him. Not right now.

"What, you thought I'd jump into your arms the moment Hyunjin steps out?"

"You don't have a problem jumping into my arms any time you feel like it."- Felix crosses his arms.

"What does that mean?"

"What I said. You call me. I always answer. You invite yourself to my apartment. I always let you in. You need a shoulder to cry on, you always lean on me. You need someone to fuck your sadness away, so I let you use me. Did you ever ask if I needed support? A shoulder to cry on? Did you ever ask how I feel?"- he's angry now, his lips trembling.

"Don't make this about you."- you say.

"No, because everything is about you. And I still want to stay next to you. Even if you're being selfish, I'd take it. I'd take any crumb you give me, like a fucking stray dog."- Felix says angrily.

"That sounds like your problem and not mine. I don't want you here. Not anymore. I want you to leave."- you say coldly.

"Really? You don't... You don't care about me at all?"

You don't answer, turning your back to him as your eyes water again.

"Goodbye, Felix."

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @yongbokkiesworld @selinia86 @xxkhxndlelitexx @hash2013

[mochirimochi]

Somewhere Safe

William Afton X Reader

I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?

-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-

p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4

-----

You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3700 words, no use of y/n

-----

cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking

You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985

-----

Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it. 

Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways. 

You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight. 

You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.

If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot. 

The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.

“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.” 

It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function. 

“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.

Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.

–

William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.

–

A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see. 

Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen. 

“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.

Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.

Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.

Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you. 

In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.

“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”

“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement. 

A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.

“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?” 

You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face. 

“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”

He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”

“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.

“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him. 

“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”

“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”

“Anything.”

–

William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant. 

Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.

The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap. 

He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his. 

“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”

–

This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.

And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.

But they’re not.

His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.

“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.

“Beg for it, little mouse.”

You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood. 

“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen. 

Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away. 

Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you. 

“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.

The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.

“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”

-----

I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunbeam

Part 1 of 4

Using the Dreaming Bingo Adoptable prompt: Cat Ears

Rating: M

Ship: Dreamling

Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)

Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort

Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.

Read on AO3

It takes a village to make an au like this- It all started on our fav @gabessquishytum 's blog (specifically these posts), plus a lot of inspo from discord, and Hob's design based on the amazing art of @amielot. Thanks for feeding my obsession with this au, friends! 🤘

~~~

By the time Hob makes it back to his room, finally released from a dull morning council meeting, it is nearly afternoon. And Dream is kneeling on the floor.

It’s been a little over a week since King Hob was gifted the cat person now staying in his private chambers. When Dream had been presented to him, Hob remembers feeling a mix of emotions- rage and sorrow and confusion and offense. The bovine kingdom did not trade in people. 

(Not anymore.)

He had wanted to refuse the ‘gift’ out of principle. But he had looked down at the wounded, far too thin creature in front of him and knew immediately that he could not let him go back with his captors. So he had accepted the offering with the minimal amount of politeness to not start a war. He had beckoned the cat to him, and learned that his name was Dream, and that he was too weak to make it up the stairs to Hob’s room. His body was withered and wasted, starved and neglected, even a short walk leaving him panting and shaking. Hob had waved the guards away and lifted him up into his own arms to carry him the rest of the way.

Dream had trembled against him, no matter how Hob tried to reassure him. Part of him still wonders if it was a mistake to bring the poor man into Hob’s own chambers, to lay him on his own soft bed when his fears were so obvious. But Hob could not bear the thought of leaving him alone and scared in some strange room in the palace. In truth, he wanted desperately to care for him himself. Some part of his heart had been given to the cat the moment Hob saw him, and he was determined to see him healed. 

The first night was hard, and Dream continued shivering even as he drank from Hob’s chest, falling into a fitful sleep in Hob’s bed after being tugged away guiltily to ensure he didn’t make himself sick drinking too much too fast. In the days since, Hob has left him in his room as he went about his business throughout the day, returning to check on him and feed him, and always finding him in the exact spot on the bed where he left him. Until today.

It had been raining for much of the week, but today the sun was streaming through the open windows, the light falling vibrantly across the floor in the center of the bedroom. Dream was crouched at the edge of the thick rug placed beneath the bed, reaching one long arm out to dip just the very tips of his fingers into the light, his face full of equal parts longing and trepidation. 

It is a look Hob remembers on his own face when he was a young calf, sneaking into his mother’s study and standing on the tips of his hooves to admire her golden collar and bell. He would tap it, giggling at the heavy chime, feeling mischievous as he imagined a day in the future when the beautiful adornment would be passed on to him. He also recalls getting caught, his mother admonishing him sternly yet fondly, and the way he never once felt fear of her.

He put his grimly little child’s hands all over literal gold, and he never felt anywhere near the blatant terror he sees now on Dream’s face at being caught reaching for a sunbeam.

“I apologize, my lord,” Dream scrambled frantically back onto the bed, folding his limbs to kneel and forcing his hands to release his robe, laying them in his lap meekly. It broke Hob’s heart every time, the way he so clearly wanted to hold the robe closed around his body and just as clearly expected it to be torn away from him.

He had been given to Hob naked.

The robe he wore now was meant for a calf, too short and too wide and still the best fit they could find for the cat until the tailors finished the custom robe they were working on. Dream had been near tears when he was presented with something to cover himself, bowing his head and offering anything and everything of himself in thanks. So grateful. All for a robe that didn’t even fit.

Hob approached the bed slowly, smiling gently even when he wanted to cry for the poor creature, “You’ve done nothing wrong, sweetheart.”

Dream shivered, keeping his gaze downcast, “I should not have moved without your permission, master.” 

Hob flinched at the title. As king he was accustomed to being referred to as lord and sire and majesty- it was only appropriate, and he did expect to be given the respect due his station. But he was no one’s master.

Right now though, he had to choose his battles. “You are free to move about the room, Dream,” it was true that Dream clearly needed rest, but his heart ached to think of Dream sitting stiffly wherever Hob ‘put him’. He turned and gestured at the sunlit spot, “You may even move some of the pillows or blankets from the bed, should you wish to lay in the sun.”

Dream looks horrified at the very idea, ears pinned back in fear, “I would never, sire,” his voice nearly pleading for Hob to believe him, as though he is being tested.

Hob feels his own ears droop, before straightening with resolve. He keeps his motions clear, walking to the bed to gather an armful of pillows. Dream keeps his head down, but his eyes follow Hob’s movements as he begins arranging the pillows on the floor where the sunlight is hitting. He adds a few blankets to the pile too, until he has a little nest in the middle of the room, soft and sunlit. 

Dream still hasn’t moved.

“Come here, Love,” Hob keeps his voice soft and soothing, but Dream still tenses when Hob scoops him up into his arms easily, so frighteningly light, “You must be hungry. Breakfast feels like ages ago.”

As much as Hob wishes he could sustain Dream with his milk alone, they had begun introducing some light foods- small morsels of fish, and select vegetables that the royal librarian deemed safe for cat people- into his breakfast and dinner. In between though, Hob fed him himself. Hob was used to being responsible for an entire kingdom, to making decisions that were far and long lasting and praying that he might make his country even a little bit better each day. And he was proud of his position, he would not trade it for anything. But there was something so special about being able to hold this one person in his arms and see the good he was doing. 

It still took some encouragement. As he settles into the nest, leaning back against the pillows and facing the window so that Dream can sit in his lap in the direct sunlight, Dream is still tense and trembling. Hob shushes him gently, slipping his shirt over his head before placing one hand at the back of Dream’s head to guide him to his chest. He remembers how confused Dream had been the first night when Hob had fed him, opening his mouth wide like he might for a different part of Hob’s body, unsure of what was expected of him. He had allowed himself to be maneuvered without any resistance until Hob was finally able to get a few drops of milk onto his tongue. He had watched as Dream’s eyes had widened, pupils dilating as he licked his lips in something like disbelief. 

After that it was a little easier. He is still nervous and hesitant, but Hob is able to press his mouth to his nipple and say, “Drink,” softly, more of a request than an order even if Dream does not yet recognize it as such. Hob shivers at the sensation as Dream begins to suckle, biting his lip to hold back a groan. He turns his gaze up to the ceiling, trying to distract himself from the sensation. Dream shifts in his lap and Hob has to mentally recite every trade detail he’d been given at his morning meeting in order to restrain himself from moving his hips.

The first night, Dream had looked so resigned when he finally noticed the hard prick in the lap he was sitting on. Hob had just pushed him back, not wanting him to throw up what was most likely the first substantial meal he’d had in who knows how long. He had looked so sorrowful, gazing longingly at Hob’s chest, and then he leaned back and gasped, Hob’s cock hard and hot against his hip. 

He had seemed to wilt, any relaxation Hob had coaxed from feeding him vanished, and he spoke like he was reciting a script, “How shall I repay you, master?”

Hob had felt his blood run cold at the title, “There is nothing to repay, sweet one,” he promised, his smile more of a grimace. Dream had stared at him in blatant disbelief, and as much as Hob wanted to keep holding him, he knew his body’s response was not helping the situation. So he had moved Dream off his lap, tucked him under the bed covers to sleep off his meal, and then gone and taken a long bath to take care of the problem.

It is a routine he has kept ever since. Dream no longer asks what Hob wants in return, though he still looks at him expectantly, and Hob smiles and pets him and then excuses himself to the bath to spend as much time as he needs pleasuring himself. And if he spends that time imagining the soft pads of Dream’s hands, or his sandpaper tongue, or the few glimpses he’s gotten of Dream’s enticingly barbed cock, well, no one needs to know.

Glancing back down at the cat in his arms, Hob is drawn now to Dream’s ears. His own are soft, yes, but they are also thick and sturdy. Dream’s are so thin. Even with the blackness of his fur, the sun seems to shine through at the very tips, a soft glowing pink with little veins just barely visible. Almost without thinking, Hob moves the hand on the back of Dream’s head to lightly grip one ear between his fingers.

Unsurprisingly, Dream startles, a frightened chirp escaping him as he releases Hob’s teat. 

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, nudging Dream back towards his nipple, “It’s alright, you can have some more.” He has to be careful not to let Dream make himself sick, he had been warned by the palace physician what to look out for, but they were nowhere near that point yet. Dream shyly begins suckling again, eyes glancing up at Hob through his eyelashes for approval. “Good boy,” Hob praises, and Dream’s eyes flutter shut, relaxing minutely.

In his hand, he runs his thumb across Dream’s ear. So soft, so delicate and paper thin. He feels a strange compulsion to put it in his mouth. Not to bite, like he did with his playmates growing up- Dream feels too frail for that sort of roughhousing, and Hob does not ever want to hurt him. 

No, he wants to hold his silky ear in his mouth like a delicacy, wants to lick and suck at it as gently as Dream does to his teat until the gossamer fur is wet and warm from his tongue.

For now, he settles for simply rubbing the skin between his fingers, stroking the velvet softness in a feeble attempt to distract himself from his own lust. Eventually, too soon for his or Dream’s liking but in accordance with the doctor, Hob must gently push Dream away, his chest feeling emptier and yet still too full. All he wants is to feed Dream until he is fully sated. It hurts that, for now, he cannot.

Dream has become more accustomed to the routine, and so his whimper is nearly inaudible when leans back in Hob’s lap. Hob can feel the way his ears go from lax contentment to physically pressed down, tense and flat against his head. Or trying to be, at least, in the case of the ear still in Hob’s hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Hob coos, “I know you want more, just have to wait a couple hours, Love.”

“You have been more than generous, master,” Dream replied shakily, and Hob suddenly realizes that he does not want to run away to sequester himself in the baths. 

At the moment, his body is not betraying him, at least not so much that his robes do not hide it. And so he shushes Dream again and turns him in his lap, easy as a doll, until they are both facing the window. He nestles Dream between his thighs, bracketing him between thick, warm fur and tugging him to lean back against the softness of his belly. He feels Dream’s breath hitch as he brings his free hand around to rest softly on the subtle swell of his stomach. 

“Relax,” Hob whispered, one hand on his ear while the other rubbed his stomach soothingly, helping encourage his starved body to digest the meal it’s been given, “Just relax.”

As he strokes Dream’s trembling belly and pets his ear, Hob cannot help but tilt his face into the sun. He thinks perhaps he has taken this warmth and light for granted. How many times has he awoken and scowled at the light streaming across his bed? How often has he walked past these sunbeams, stepped across the warm fibers of his extravagant rug, and not even spared them a glance? Now, feeling his body warm- feeling Dream’s body warm- in the glowing light, he feels a pang of regret that he has not appreciated this simple pleasure before.

Well, he is appreciating it now. He smiles to himself as he feels Dream slowly relax under his ministrations, body melting back against him and sinking into Hob’s abundant, pillowy flesh. Hob thinks that if he could, he would keep Dream here, surrounded by his body, soft and warm, forever. 

Maybe he can’t hold him forever, but he can hold him now. And maybe it is too soon to mouth at Dream’s silky ears and press his tongue to them like a salt lick, but he allows himself to press a fleeting kiss to the one in his hand. 

Dream doesn’t flinch. And that is more than enough for now.

[sweptawayghost]

In Dreams Pt.1

PAIRING: Joel Miller X Reader

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel Miller is down bad for the first time in a long time. After him and Ellie arrive and settle into life in Jackson, Joel is itching to get out. He becomes your patrol partner but he could be so much more if you give him the chance.

Hello!!! 

This is my first time writing any kind of fan fiction so please be nice. I'm a huge fan of The Last Of Us and a major Joel Miller apologist. God, I love that man. Lots of Joel's inner thoughts. NO USE OF Y/N. W/c 4.1K

Anyway, I wanted to write a series and I had a hard time laying the groundwork but baby I got dirty things brewing. No warnings for this one but I will mention any trigger points in the future. Anything Written like this {Italic} indicated Joel's inner thoughts

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention of male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, Age gap

Joel Miller was down bad. 

He found himself wondering how far too many times. He was sure he'd sworn off love and romance but then there you were. With your toothy grins and your warm palms. Eyes that made him feel safe and seen. 

Your laugh filled his ears and swelled his heart. He would do anything to be in the same room as you, he would move where you move, he would go where you go, He could listen to you talk about anything and nothing as long as you kept looking at him and laughing at his jokes. 

He wishes he could tell you right now how badly he wanted you. He wishes he could let you know how important you were to him, how he would move mountains if it would make you smile. 

He hoped you would see how much Ellie loved you.

Joel saw the spark return to her eyes thanks to you. He loved that you cared about her so much, as if she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world. 

How you fed her, brushed her hair for her. You happily opened your home to her when you knew Joel would be gone for a night or so just to make sure she wouldn't be alone. 

There were just certain things that Joel couldn't provide for Ellie. But He knew you could. He wanted you to be in her life regardless of how he felt for you and how you felt for him. How do you feel about me? 

///

He sat with Tommy in the Tipsy Bison one fall afternoon, the sun was sinking down behind the hills, the cool breeze whipped and swerved around the town centre. The Trees with their many hues of orange hung lazily ready to be whisked away.  

The town prepared for the cold months that were to come, fixing and unblocked gutters, salted and jerked meats, pickled and preserved anything they could. prepared the garden beds in the greenhouses for new crops to come, pulling weeds and turning soil. It didn't feel rushed or urgent, it felt like a normal town, on a normal day, in a normal world.

Joel and Ellie had all but settled into Jackson by now, not like they had a lot to unpack when they arrived. He remembers one of the first nights they had come back. The feeling of the hot water on his skin made him want to cry. He had a chance to wash away all the blood, all the grime, the sweat, the shame, the guilt, the tightness in his chest and the pain in his heart. 

Tommy had handed him a large crate when they arrived. Soaps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, Conditioner and shampoo in solid bars, lip balms, razors. Simple items that were worth more than gold. Most of the items were handmade and imperfect in shape which made them seem even more special. Someone made this for you. 

There were also a number of clothing items given to them, shirts, pants, socks and underwear, jackets, even a few dresses that Ellie all but discarded in the back of her wardrobe. 

It felt odd to be given so much when he had taken so much. 

Stop thinking about it. 

 he wanted to make himself useful, he didn't want to sit still anymore, he wanted to move, to distract his mind. He started to worry about what Jackson would do to him in the long run. Would it take off his edge that kept him and Ellie alive all this time? What would happen if it burnt to the ground? He didn't want to put Ellie through anything more than she had already had to endure. 

He felt naked without his pistol glued to his hip, exposed, vulnerable. He wasn't used to people smiling at him on the streets, raising an arm to wave or finding cooked meals or small gifts on his front door step. Those first few weeks were a lot to adjust to. He wondered how Ellie was handling it. She seemed closed off and quiet. She's worried about fitting in. Joel thought to himself. Teenage girls are still teenage girls after all. 

///

“So your patrol partner…” Tommy sat looking from his glass across the table at his older brother “ you’ll like her, she's a bit rough around the edges at first but she's got a good head on her. She just weary of people '' Tommy spoke with a small smile on his lips but drew his eyes back to his glass. As if thinking back on you with fond memories.

Tommy had taken Joel out for the first few weeks. He had learnt the ropes quickly, to be honest there wasn't much to get, it was straight forward and it was what Joel was good at. He knew the job wasn’t for everyone but he knew he was damn near built for it. 

He wasn't particularly worried about getting a new partner, he and his brother worked well together. The communication was little but clear, a nod of the head, a knowledge of the others limits, no need to make small talk and comfortable silences.but damn did Tommy know how to get on Joel's nerves. 

He was more worried about whether his partner would crumble under pressure. If they would make stupid moves and get one or both of them killed. What would happen to Ellie? 

“Is that your subtle way of tellin’ me she a bitch?” He raised an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Some would say” is the only reply he was offered

Some would say. 

But Tommy wouldn't. Good sign.

“She aint real good at small talk either” Tommy mumbled from the rim of his glass before he sipped back the amber liquid. 

“She’s good quality” a smile hung from his lips “she’ll just say some shit that’ll catch you off guard” 

/// 

He woke up with a tightness in his chest. Like he does most mornings. As the soft glow from his window floods his room he stills the thumping in his chest, rubbing small circles to alleviate the ache.

He sits up and lets reality wash over him. It's okay.

It feels wrong to feel safe. 

He went about his normal routine he had set up for himself, any distraction from the nightmare he awoke from. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. Coffee was a non negotiable, even the instant stuff was doing it for him these days. He slowly opened the front door, ultra aware of the creaks of the old home he now called his. He found himself thinking about the family who lived there before him. Stop 

Stepping onto the front porch with socked feet. He let the steam of the coffee swirl around his face as he inhaled the chilled morning air. Seeing the street lights glow softly as the morning creeps over the hills. Jacksons main street was a few blocks over and he could hear soft murmuring of people start to make their way into the mess hall for breakfast before starting their daily assignments. It reminded him of before. 

He could almost imagine that the last 20 years were just a really bad, really vivid dream. 

The sounds of a neighbourhood waking up to begin their day. The sound of gravel crunching in the distance, a soft yell from the other side of main street, the sound of his neighbours walking around the upper level of their home. All once familiar sounds to Joel. All sounds that now feel alien. 

He let his chin drop to his chest and began slowly moving it from side to side to relieve some tension, noticing a large hole in one of his woollen socks right at the big toe. The padding on the heel is also threatening to split open any day now. 

Moments like this were scary for Joel. moments of silence. Moments when he could let his mind wander because he didn't have urgency at his back, he wasn't being chased down the street by a horde of infected or being shot at by a group of raiders, he wasn't doing supply run with the threat of a QZ guard blowing his head off if he got caught and he wasn't lying in the woods wide awake all night to make sure Ellie was safe as she slept a few feet away from him.  

No. Joel Miller, for the first time in a long time, was safe. 

His attention snapped up quickly when he heard a slam a few doors up from him. He let the goosebumps run down his spine as the thought faded from his mind. 

///

When Joel arrived at the gates of Jackson to meet his patrol partner he wasn't expecting… Well, you. You greeted him with a simple nod of your head and handed him the reins of a horse. He looked down at your extended hand, small cuts and scrapes that covered your skin, they looked soft but worked. He grabbed the reins from you and let his eyes jump to yours. 

In the low morning light, your face serious but soft, your eyes beamed up at him. You were younger than him, a hell of a lot younger, that much he could see. He wondered what you'd be like out there. What kind of person is he stuck with for the next few hours?  Would you run at the first sign of trouble? Or worse, someone who wouldnt shut the fuck up and would rather spew bullshit then sit with the silence. 

“You a decent shot?” His voice came out low almost like a whisper, all thick with sleep that still lingered in his lungs.

You gave a small huff as you turned to mount your horse and only looked at him, without saying a word. 

You made him a little nervous. This he could admit to himself. He couldnt put his finger on it right away but as you continued on your patrol that day he started to work it out. You had already checked out the weapons and saddled the horses before he reached the gates that morning, You had taken the lead on the trails, you didn't offer him your hand or even said hello for that matter, You hadn't spoken a word to him full stop. Did you think you were too good to talk to him or give him the time of day? Did you think he was incapable or stupid?

Incapable. Useless. Ineffective. No, surely not. You were just some girl, what did you know about me? 

As these thoughts swamped his brain he became overly aware of every move he made, any noise he made, he felt like he was under a microscope with you.

 Every now and again he would feel you looking at him as you slowed to ride beside him, he tried to catch your eyes. It made him sweaty, uncomfortable and restless. Why are you so nervous? Why do you care if she likes you or not? you're working together not getting married.

Neither of you had made an attempt at small talk. He didn't even know your name until you had been out for several hours and that was only because communication was mandatory at that moment. 

“Im Joel by the way” He offered you. The response you gave was only a look that said yeah I know dumb ass

That was the last time he tried to talk to you. You made him feel small and like his presence was unnecessary. He was meant to be the stoic one, the quiet one, the protector, the one who takes the lead, not some girl 30 years younger than him. 

Tommy had been right, you had a good head on your shoulders and while your silence unsettled him to a degree he did feel safe, you weren't distracted and you weren't distracting him. Right?

He didn't like being the one on the outs as much as he would protest that he didn't care and didn't need people to like him. For some reason he wanted you to like him. He wanted you to talk to him at least. 

The rest of the patrol was uneventful. You were good, he did what he could although he just felt like a supporting act to you. An odd feeling stirred in his gut when he looked at you. Everytme he let his eyes wander over your form he noticed small details.

Your cheeks were flushed as the cold afternoon wind whipped past you. You were swimming in the sweater you wore, small mended patches where you had repaired holes in the ageing fabric. The way you would adjust your backpack periodically, cracking your back in the process.He liked the way you smelt when you walked close to him or when the wind changed in his direction. Small things. He wondered what you would notice about him.

You still held a stony expression as you approached the gates of jackson. While he felt relieved to get out of your presence he also wanted to look at you more. He wished he could pause you just to study your expression. 

You held your expression when you looked up at him. He looked back blankly at you before he noticed you had extended your hand out in front of you towards him. He glanced down at your hand and then back to your face, he shot you a confused look.

“The horse” you gesture with your eyebrows and a small tilt of your head towards the reins that he still held. 

“Unless you wanna hold hands” you said with a small smile on your face. She smiled at you

He handed the softened leather rein to you, he looked back at you and returned a lazy grin. You turned and began to walk towards the stables with a horse on either side. 

“Do you need help getting back or do you think you've got it under control?” you asked him with a slight turn of your shoulder. 

“Im good” was all he could muster with a small crack in his voice. 

But that didn't matter because you smiled at him. 

Joel thought about you as he walked back to the Bison, he couldn't stop the way his lips curled at the corners as he walked, Kicking up dirt and rocks as he went, hands in his pockets and head hung low. He thought about the flutter of your lashes. He thought about the strands of hair that fell in your face when you bent over. He thought about the way the strap of your rifle hugged your shoulder. He thought about the hushed tone of your voice when you spoke to him. He thought about the way you looked at him over your shoulder and the way your cheeks flushed when you caught his eyes already on you.  

///

“How was it?” Tommy had asked him as he honed in on the bowl of stew, he held it close to his chest as if someone would swipe it from him if he didnt. 

“It was fine” was the only reply Joel was willing to give. She makes me feel like she doesn't need me.

Tommy raised his eyes from his meal to peer at his brother. He rested the bowl in his hands down on the table. 

“Really? Just fine” He said it like he was digging for more.  

“Nothing interesting happen that you wanna tell me about?” Joel only raised an eyebrow in place of a reply. 

“Yeah Tommy we had so much fun, we sang songs and picked flowers and braided each other's hair” Joel spat at him with annoyance. 

“No, nothing interesting happened” Tommy’s expression didn’t change at Joel's words, he had a lopsided grin glued to his face.

“It's just that you haven't whipped that smirk off your face since you walked in” 

“Fuck off” 

When Joel woke up the next morning he didn't feel as tired as he usually does, his back didn't feel as ache as it normally did and tightness in his chest felt lighter than most days. His mind felt quieter than usual. The normal shouting and screaming was dulled by miles of distance.

He chalked it up to having something to occupy his time, keeping him busy so his brain had less time to spiral. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. He got his coffee and returned to his place on the porch once again, he absorbed the sounds, the smells, the houses around his own, the sharp feeling of the cold morning on his skin. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He could hear music, the crunch of stone, the shower running from inside the house, the neighbour walking around the second floor. 

“Morning Miller” the sound of your voice pulling him out of his daydream, He opened his eyes to see you standing at the foot of his porch. 

“You busy today?” 

///

That was the first time you had taken Joel out on a non official patrol. He remembers the sun beaming down on his back and sweat beads forming in his hairline as you walked side by side along the overgrown trail. The pack on his back felt lighter today, The weight of the gun on his shoulder was eased and the throbbing in his feet was a faded tickle. 

He liked walking beside you. He liked the way your hair fell. He liked the way you smelt. He liked to watch the smile grow on your face when you looked at him. He liked the way you looked at him.

“ Why invite me out today?” he asked “given how talkative you were yesterday” 

You laughed and looked up at him. He wondered if he mistook your seriousness for dislike. 

You let your eyes fall back to the trail. Some of the behaviours Joel noticed yesterday returned, you adjusted your backpack and he heard the snap of your spine in the process.

“I'm sorry about that” You winced when you spoke, your eyes lifting slightly from the trail to gauge your next move and secure your footing "In a world where women like me are beaten down, stolen away, used and left for dead…” Joel peered down at you when you stopped, you refused to meet his gaze as you spoke “I want people to see me as a threat before they see me as anything else"  

Fuck

///

Once you arrived back in Jackson you had asked him to walk you home. The idea of spending more time with you made his heart jump and even with the ache in his back returning and a throbbing pain in his knee, he would walk to the other side of the country with you if you asked. 

He followed you up your porch stairs taking in the exterior of your home. It was small, the front steps bowed from years of pressure and use. The paint on the weather boards peeling and faded with time. The elements had not been kind to a lot of the homes in Jackson, Joel had spent a lot of time looking around his own home and thinking of all the things he would do if he had the resources. It didn't stop at his own and soon he was imagining renovating half the town. 

Your front wire door looked like it was hanging on by a thread and one of the gutters that ran down the side of your home was all but rusted out. 

He stopped when he reached the top step and watched you shove the front door open with your shoulder. You dropped your bag to the left of the door and kicked your boots off to the right. He watched you disappear into the house, he could still hear your voice as he approached the front door, not stepping over the threshold but he wanted to get a glance at your home, it was almost like eavesdropping on a secret or reading someone's diary.  

You didn't invite him in but you also didn't tell him not to come in. I'm just looking. 

Old books sprayed out on the ground near the fireplace, balls of yarn and half finished projects laid out on the daybed in the corner of the room. The whole room was lit up in a soft yellow glow from the afternoon sun, it looked like a home, it looked warm and inviting. He could imagine you sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped up around your shoulders, half asleep with a book in your hand or laid out next to the fire, the peaks of your face highlighted in the soft glow of the flames. 

“What are you smiling about?” you asked looking up at where he stood in the door jam. 

“Just lookin” he replied. He felt his palms go sweaty as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't have.   

He looked down at the item you had extended out towards him. You were holding a bottle, the label all but worn off from age and water damage. The seal on the top had been broken and the lid had dents and scratches on it. It looked like it had been used before and once opened used again and again. Take the bottle you moron.

“Thank you” He said as he reached for the bottle “its real nice of you” 

Joel didn't know it at the time but this would be the first of many gifts you would bestow upon him and Ellie. The next thing you would do would be mending his clothes including the socks he was currently wearing.

After that you would be lending him tools and teaching Ellie how to sew ‘a skill that everyone should know’ you would tell her. 

He would come over in the coming days and clean out your gutters before the weather turned and sunny clear days would be consumed by grey skies and rain. He would rip out rotten floor boards on your front porch and replace rusty nails. You would bring him home made meals or fresh bread to which he would invite you in and you would accept without a second thought. He loved how at home you seemed kicking off your shoes and leaving them next to his, throwing your jacket on the back of his couch or hanging it over his. 

He didn't know it now but soon he would be showing you chords on the guitar and swapping books with you. He would be following you out for more non official patrols, sometimes for days at a time, looking for supplies in dilapidated barns and old properties that have been lost to the elements. He would be coming over to your house to drag Ellie home when she was trying to avoid doing homework.

“You need me to help you get home?” a bashful smile laced your face, Joel couldn't tell if you were just flushed from the warmth of your home or if you were blushing. You brushed past him in the doorway and raised your arm with a pointed finger past his shoulder down the street.

Joel’s eyes followed your finger down the street. Seven houses were all that separated you, seven houses and across the street.

“See you neighbour” 

As Joel walked home he couldn't drop the stupid smile that hung from his lips. He slowed his steps as he walked, observing the bottle in his hand as he went. People started returning from assignments to rejoin their families, others turning straight for the Bison in favour of a drink. He listened to distant sounds of children laughing and playing in the streets. The sounds of a neighbourhood filled the air but all Joel could think about was the smile you gave him and the way you looked at him.

///

That was the first night that Joel dreamt about you. It was the first night you pulled him out of a bad dream and you didn't even know it. It was the first night that he went to sleep with your face glued to the back of his eyelids. When he woke up in the middle of the night you were the first thing on his mind. When he closed his eyes and pulled his cock out of his boxers and started jerking himself off he saw your face. What are you doing Joel? He saw your smile and the strands of hair that stick to your forehead. He pictured you laid out by your fireplace with his lips pressed to your neck as you moaned his name. 

Just once, get it out of your system. She’s attractive, I'm only human. It's fine. 

“Just once” he whispered to himself in the silence of his room. 

[tragicdruid]

Lost Love (2)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 600+

Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.

Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.

It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.

"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."

Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.

Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, but he can be so so greedy.

As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.

"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.

It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.

But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.

"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."

Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.

"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.

"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."

You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.

He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.

"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.

Maybe this time, he could do things right.

[emotionaldamages]

healing the heart- max verstappen

summary- reader is red bull’s admin, which is the beginning of a love story for reader and a certain driver

pairings- max verstappen x social media admin!reader

authors note- this one is kinda long🧍🏽‍♀️ and a lot of repeating words

Y/N sat at her desk, scrolling through the latest photos of the Red Bull Racing team. As the social media admin for the team, it was her job to keep fans engaged and excited. Little did she know, her life was about to take an unexpected turn.

Max Verstappen, the talented Formula One racer, walked into her office. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned against the doorframe, a playful grin on his face. Y/N couldn't help but feel her heart skip a beat.

"Hey there," Max said, his voice smooth and inviting. "Just wanted to see how our fans are doing."

Y/N blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as she looked up at him. "They're loving your recent win, Max. The support for you is insane."

He chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Well, it's all thanks to the amazing team we have, including you."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words. She had always admired Max's talent and dedication, but she never imagined he would notice her. The idea of dating a Formula One racer seemed like a distant dream.

As the days passed, Max and Y/N spent more time together. They would grab lunch at the track, discussing everything from racing strategies to their favorite movies. Max's charm and down-to-earth nature made Y/N feel special, like she was the only person in his world.

One evening, after a grueling race, Max took Y/N out for a surprise dinner. He led her to a cozy restaurant with soft lighting and a breathtaking view of the city. Y/N couldn't help but smile, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Over a delicious meal, Max reached across the table, his warm hand finding hers. "Y/N, I never thought I'd find someone like you. You bring so much joy to my life."

Y/N's cheeks flushed as she looked into his deep, intense eyes. "Max, you've made me believe in love again. I've never met anyone who understands me like you do."

They leaned closer, their lips meeting in a gentle, passionate kiss. In that moment, all the doubts and fears Y/N carried in her heart melted away. Max was not only healing her heart but also filling it with a love she had always longed for.

As they broke apart, Max smiled, his eyes filled with affection. "Y/N, you're the missing puzzle piece in my life. I want to be with you, always."

Y/N felt her heart soar, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes. "Max, I feel the same way. Let's see where this journey takes us."

———

One sunny afternoon, Y/N sat at her desk, scrolling through Red Bull Racing's social media accounts. She admired the team's recent victory and smirked, knowing that she played a small role in their success. Just as she was about to close the tab, a message notification popped up.

Curious, Y/N clicked on it. Her heart skipped a beat when she read the name of the sender—it was Max.

"Hey, Y/N," the message read. "I have a surprise for you. Meet me at the race track tomorrow. Can't wait to see your reaction."

Y/N's excitement bubbled within her. She couldn't help but wonder what Max had in store. The next day, she arrived at the race track, her heart pounding with anticipation. Max stood by the pit lane, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Hey, Max," Y/N greeted, unable to hide her excitement. "What's the surprise?"

Max winked playfully before leading her towards the garage. Y/N's eyes widened as she saw a bright red race car, glistening under the track lights. She couldn't believe her eyes—Max had arranged for her to experience a ride in a real Formula 1 car.

"Is this for real?" Y/N gasped, her voice filled with awe.

Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Absolutely, Y/N. I wanted to give you a taste of what it feels like to be on the track."

Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration. She slipped into a racing suit, her hands trembling with excitement. As she buckled up inside the car, Max looked at her with a reassuring smile.

"You ready?" he asked.

Y/N could barely contain her enthusiasm. "More than ever, Max."

The engine roared to life, and the car sped off down the track. Y/N felt an adrenaline rush like she had never experienced before. The wind whipped through her hair, and the G-forces pressed her against the seat. She held on tight, laughing and screaming in pure euphoria.

As the ride came to an end, Y/N stepped out of the car, her legs trembling but her heart soaring. Max approached her, his eyes filled with joy.

"See, Y/N," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Life is full of unexpected twists and turns. And sometimes, those twists lead to the most extraordinary moments."

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with newfound courage. In that moment, she realized that she had not only found love but also a partner who would never stop surprising her.

Little did Y/N know, the surprises were just beginning, and their love story was far from over.

———

Y/N's heart swelled with excitement as she stepped into the Red Bull garage. The familiar scent of rubber and gasoline filled the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in this world that Max Verstappen inhabited.

Max stood there, leaning against the sleek Red Bull car, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Y/N. She couldn't help but notice a hint of nervousness in his gaze, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his race suit.

"Hey," Y/N greeted, her voice filled with anticipation. "What's up?"

Max smiled, but there was something off about it. His voice, normally confident and vibrant, seemed strained as he replied, "Hey, Y/N. Listen, we need to talk."

A flicker of worry danced across Y/N's face as she sensed the seriousness in his tone. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Max took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "I... I heard something today. A rumor about you and Daniel."

Confusion washed over Y/N. Daniel? As in Daniel Ricciardo, Max's former teammate? She couldn't fathom what Max had heard, or how it could possibly involve her.

"What kind of rumor?" she asked, her heart sinking with each passing second.

Max hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. "They said you and Daniel... you had something before we got together. Is it true?"

Y/N felt her whole world crumble at Max's words. How could he believe such a thing? Her mind raced as she tried to find the right words to explain, but the hurt in Max's eyes made her stumble.

"Max, I... I can't believe you would think that. Daniel and I are just friends, nothing more," she pleaded.

Max's expression softened, but doubt still flickered in his eyes. "I want to believe you, Y/N. But... it's hard. I've been hurt before."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to touch Max's arm gently. "I understand your fears, Max, but you have to trust me. There's nothing between Daniel and me. You're the only one in my heart."

Max's resolve seemed to waver for a moment before he sighed and nodded. "Okay. I want to believe you, Y/N. I really do."

Relief flooded Y/N's heart, but a small part of her remained wounded. She never expected such a misunderstanding to tarnish their connection, their deep bond.

As they stood there, their emotions still raw, Y/N knew that healing Max's heart would take time. But she was willing to fight for the love they had found and prove to him that their love story was far from over.

With determination in her eyes, Y/N whispered, "I'll do whatever it takes to show you that you're the only one for me, Max. Trust me."

Max's uncertainty slowly faded away as he gazed into Y/N's eyes, seeing the sincerity in her words. "I want to trust you, Y/N. Let's work through this together."

Hand in hand, they walked out of the garage, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Love wasn't always simple, but the connection they shared was worth fighting for.

As Y/N and Max stood outside the bustling Red Bull garage, a gentle breeze swept through the air, carrying with it a feeling of newfound hope and clarity. Y/N looked into Max's eyes, her own filled with sincerity.

"Max, I promise you, there's nothing going on between me and Daniel," Y/N said, her voice soft yet resolute. "He's just a friend. The only person who holds my heart is standing right in front of me."

A flicker of relief crossed Max's face, his eyes searching Y/N's for any sign of dishonesty. Finding none, he let out a deep sigh and a small smile slowly formed on his lips.

"I believe you, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "But there's something I need to tell you too."

Curiosity danced in Y/N's eyes as she waited for Max to continue. She knew that love required honesty and trust, no matter how difficult the conversation might be.

"When I heard that rumor about you and Daniel, I have to admit, jealousy consumed me," Max confessed, his voice tinged with remorse. "I didn't want to lose you, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Touched by Max's honesty, Y/N reached out and gently placed her hand on his, intertwining their fingers. "Max, I'm sorry that I unknowingly caused you pain. My heart has always belonged to you. I'd never do anything to jeopardize what we have."

A sparkle of understanding glimmered in Max's eyes as he squeezed Y/N's hand. "I know that now, Y/N. We all have insecurities, but love is about overcoming them together."

In that moment, the weight of doubt and misunderstanding seemed to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of love and acceptance. Y/N and Max had weathered their first major test as a couple, emerging stronger than ever.

As they strolled hand in hand through the Red Bull paddock, laughter spilled from their lips, filling the air with lightness. Y/N's heart soared as they talked about their dreams, their future, and the adventures they yearned to embark on together.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, but the spark between Y/N and Max never waned. Their love continued to flourish, fueled by their shared passion for life and their unwavering support for each other.

Y/N's role as Red Bull Racing's social media admin became the backdrop to their love story, punctuated by exhilarating races, joyous celebrations, and heartfelt tributes. Their connection extended beyond the racetrack, as they found solace in the quiet moments spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies, and sharing their hopes and fears.

Together, Y/N and Max had crafted a love story that defied distance, challenges, and rumors. They had learned that true love doesn't mean the absence of difficulties, but rather the strength to face them together.

As they looked ahead, excitement surged through their veins. The future held unknown adventures, but armed with the love they shared, Y/N and Max were ready to face whatever lay ahead.

[mrsjellymunson]

🌸🌼 One Fine Day 🌼🌸

Adapted from this ask from @celestialbat for the @steddiemicrofic June 1-year anniversary prompt, ‘one’. WC: 1,111. Rating: G. CW: tooth-rotting fluff, romance, flirting, mentions of food (no actual eating) and Eddie’s difficult childhood (not detailed).

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed that one day could mean so much.

He and Steve haven’t been together long, and haven't really even gone on a proper ‘date’. But Eddie’s decided: today's the day.

He’s not usually one for cuteness and grand romantic gestures - he’d usually take someone to The Hideout, or spend time in his van out by Lover’s Lake. Not because he doesn’t want to, more because he doesn’t know how to, and prefers to keep things simple rather than run the risk of embarrassing himself.

But with Steve, everything’s different.

Before Steve, he reckons he wouldn’t’ve known how to be romantic if his life had depended on it. But now, he’s finding he loves to do things to make Steve laugh, to make him blush, even just to make him smile, and he doesn’t even care if he makes himself look like an idiot while he does it.

So today, he’s packed up as much of a romantic picnic as he can manage. He’s borrowed a basket and cooler from Robin, along with some tips on what to pack, after he admitted he was just going to get Twinkies, chips and Mountain Dew from Melvald’s. She’s even let him raid her fridge for a few things.

He’s shaken out the blankets from the back of his van, and has borrowed a few pillows from the trailer, so they’ll both have something comfortable to sit on. He’s brought camping plates and cutlery, usually reserved for Wayne’s fishing trips, so Steve doesn’t have to pick things out of packets like Eddie usually would, and purchased some of Steve’s favourite name-brand soda (rather than the store equivalent). He’s discovered he and Wayne don’t own napkins, so he’s Origami-ed some kitchen paper into bird-like shapes so they stand up on their own - fancy.

Steve assumes Eddie’s just taking the pair of them to the local park, perhaps picking something up from Benny’s on the way, but Eddie surprises him, swinging the van along one of the exit roads to a ‘secret spot’ outside of town.

It’s down a quiet lane, a pretty meadow filled with tall grass and wildflowers. And it’s beautiful.

Eddie doesn’t mention that he used to come here with his mom. It’s not far from the house they used to live in, and she’d bring him here when things got really bad with Al. Sometimes they’d even camp out under the stars. It was one place where Eddie felt safe.

Maybe he’ll tell Steve about it one day.

He grabs Steve’s hand and unnecessarily helps him down from the cab with a gallant, “This way, sweetheart”, and insists on carrying everything himself, even though Steve offers to help. (And, as Steve suspected he would, he almost trips twice.)

Eddie chooses a patch that’s more grass than flowers, explaining to Steve that, “I don’t want to hurt them”, and lays everything out on the well-loved blanket.

Steve can’t believe he’s gone to all this effort. There’s cold meats and cheeses, small tomatoes, carrot batons, berries, nuts, apple slices and a few grapes. And because Eddie can’t forego the snack food, there’s also pretzels, breadsticks and, yes, chips.

Steve thinks it’s wonderful; thinks Eddie’s wonderful. And the two of them spend an idyllic afternoon snacking and chatting and laughing and playing with each other’s fingers and tracing their fingertips up and down each other’s arms.

Steve asks about Eddie’s tattoos, and Eddie enjoys telling Steve the stories behind them. He makes up outrageous tales about the creatures and how they fought for their places on his human canvas, occasionally lifting his shirt and enjoying the way Steve’s eyes glitter as they roam his torso.

Once most of the food is gone, Steve helps Eddie to pack away the leftovers and encourages him to lie down, insisting he deserves a rest after all he’s done today.

Eddie smiles softly at him, and says he will, but,

“Only if I can choose the best pillow in the state.”

Confused, Steve glances around at the worn cushions brought from the trailer, and Eddie smirks as he drops down onto his elbows and wriggles backwards to place his messy mop into Steve’s lap. He moves his head back and forth a couple of times, settling, humming to himself, mumbling,

“Mmmm, definitely the best pillow in the state. Wait, the country! No, I’m so stupid, of course I mean the whole entire world!”

Steve chuckles down at him and the corners of his honeyed eyes crinkle as Eddie peeps up with those coffee coloured pools Steve adores so much.

Steve enjoys the weight and warmth of Eddie resting against him, and runs his fingers through Eddie’s bangs. They talk about everything and nothing, and Eddie begins to doze in the afternoon sun. He stirs a little as Steve periodically leans to one side, but thinks nothing of it.

He rouses as he feels Steve playing with his hair again, and thinks he might just be in paradise. Surely, there’s no earthly reason why the two of them couldn’t stay like this forever?

But then something unfamiliar tickles his cheek, and he opens one eye to see Steve leaning over him, examining a small yellow flower with a long stem before cocking his head sideways and appraising Eddie, squinting a little.

Placing it carefully into Eddie’s hair between an orange and red bloom, and just above a tiny purple one, Eddie sees the tip of Steve’s tongue emerge from between his teeth as he adjusts it before leaning back and admiring his handiwork.

Eddie brings a hand gently up to his hairline, careful not to dislodge anything, and discovers he has quite an array of blooms adorning his waves.

Steve reaches into his bag and pulls out his Polaroid camera, wanting to capture Eddie’s beautiful visage. Taking a couple of snaps, he places them face down on the blanket to develop as Eddie gleefully makes grabby hands, wanting to take one of his own. He hadn’t realised Steve had brought it, and he’s not missing this opportunity.

Steve won’t know it, but the sun that’s dipping low behind him is giving him a glorious golden halo that Eddie thinks makes him look like an ethereal, heavenly being. If he can capture even a tenth of that in a photo, he thinks he’ll keep it close to his heart forever.

Eddie’s convinced this is definitely the best picnic, and possibly the best afternoon, of his life. He wonders whether Steve feels the same.

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed how much romance he actually had in him, or that one day could mean so much.

Thanks so much for reading!!

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Tagging my general list (open): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean

Reblogging divider by @strangergraphics 💚💚

And how could I possibly pass up yet another opportunity to reshare this beautiful and rather gloriously appropriate piece of art by @themultiverseofmars 😉😘 YES I AM OBSESSED, WHAT OF IT HUH? HUH??

[myouicieloz]

Sunday afternoon shenanigans

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: you were having a Sunday off at the dorm and you were bored out of your mind when you remember Ningning’s vibrator hidden in one of her drawers. you’ve decided to have some fun, after all, but of course Giselle never knocks.

Warnings: smut? I guess. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED MY BELOVEDS. this is my first time ever writing/posting something like this… I was so embarrassed I swear to God. but I did have fun, too! I hope you like it and if there’s anything wrong pls tell me so I can fix it. I won’t check for any errors or mistakes or else I’ll just be too embarrassed and delete it all so enjoy!! luv u kisses. also i wrote vibrator bc I didn’t want to write dildo. so imagine what you will.

Pt. 1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

It was a slow Sunday at the dorm. Karina and Winter had gone out shopping and Ningning was in China on one of her solo schedules, which left you and Giselle alone, all bored and tedious. You’ve been staring at your room’s ceiling (which you shared with Minjeong), for quite a while now, wondering what to do to kill off the boredom. Your mind wandered to something you remembered spotting in Ning’s room, once, when you were looking for a shirt she had borrowed ages ago. Remembering the big, bright-green toy in Ning’s drawers, you’ve impulsively decided you were done waiting for someone gross to finally fuck you; you’d do it yourself, instead.

That thought left you staring at the thing, still eyeing the vibrator suspiciously after wondering if you weren’t just too bored, and all. Surely, Ningning wouldn’t mind (or she would, but you’d by her another weird dildo if she fussed too much about you using it).

However, you had no idea of how that whole sex thing worked in practice. Sure, you’ve watched porn and listened to your bandmates ramble about their escapades, but it simply wasn’t the same. You huffed, frustrated but determined to but an end to it, after all.

“Hey, the girls were wondering if you’d like them to bring something to eat when they get ba-”Giselle stopped herself mid-sentence as she barged into your room, no doubt surprised by the sight of you with your hands down your shorts and the neon green vibrator one of your hands.

You jumped on your bed, pushing Giselle out of the bedroom as you cursed her out.

“What the fuck, unnie? Don’t you ever fucking knock? Doors are closed for reasons.”

You seriously wanted to die. And kill her. Then die and kill her again. You felt your face getting flushed with bright red as you hit your head on the door, hearing your friend’s laugh through the wood.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll just let the girls know you’re not… hungry. For food.” Another laugh echoed, and you knocked your head stronger. “I’m sorry, ok Yn? Let me in… please?”

Giselle was met with silence, as you were still trying to figure out how to flush your head down the toilet after being caught in such a scene by one of your bandmates and best friends.

“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with getting yourself off, ok? It’s like, super natural. It’s not like we don’t masturbate, either.” She kept on talking, and you could picture her looking at her nails with her bored expression, tiny nose and monotonous voice, “In fact, I really should get a new vibrator for myself too. I feel like mine’s fucked up with the batteries or something. Although, of course I won’t get one in that hideous color like yours and-“

“Ugh, it’s not mine!” You said, giving up on ignoring the shorter girl and deleting yourself from earth. With an exasperated sigh, you pulled her by the arms, making sure to close the door well enough this time. “Just shut your fucking mouth, unnie God.” You muttered, preparing yourself to explain the whole situation to her.

(…)

“Why is it so green, though?” You questioned Giselle, turning the vibrator upside down with 2 of your fingers, almost unsure of how to manage it.

The two of you were sitting in your bed after you explained the entire idea to your friend, hoping she wouldn’t find you too pathetic. Thankfully, the only thing that truly made Giselle wrinkle her nose at was the color of the thing.

“How would I know? Ning’s weird as fuck. Maybe it’s a kink of hers or something.” Giselle scoffed, also looking a bit disgusted by the device’s bright color, and you hummed in approval.

It was very Ningning coded, indeed.

The silence after your conclusion was awkward, and you intended to give your friend an excuse to exit your room when she uttered, out of nowhere, “I could help you out, you know.”

“E-excuse me?” You gagged. This afternoon just kept getting odder and odder.

You mean, it’s not like you and Giselle weren’t close, which you were. You’ve changed, bathed and shared more intimate moments together than you could ever remember. It’s just… this was different. Very different.

“I could help you with what you… want.” She sounded almost unsure, even though she nudged you playfully. “Come on, it’s not like you know anything in practice.”

“No need to flatter yourself, huh.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, ignoring your bitter tone, “that I could make you feel good. And that’s what you want, right? I mean, that’s what sex is about anyway.”

You were still not fully convinced, but you were eyeing her more attentively now. Sensing you were almost giving in, she plucked one of your locks out of your face. “It’s really not the big of a deal you think it is, Yn. It’s just sex, and we’re friends. Right?”

“...Yeah, right.”

This was obviously a stupid, impulsive, brainless idea, to have sex for the first time with one of your bandmates. While your other bandmates weren’t home.

You took a deep breath, nudging Giselle back and laughing as she looses balance and almost falls from your bed.

“Fine. Let’s do it, then.”

(…)

“So... should I just put it in?”

“What? No!” Giselle looks at you with big eyes, giggling a little. She stopped when you kept on staring at her, now realizing you were serious about not knowing how to do this. She took the toy from your hands before frowning at it, then sizing you up. “Well, not at first, at least. You’re not even wet. This way it won’t fit, and it will be too painful.”

“It’ll be painful anyway.” you grumbled, allowing her to spread your legs to place herself between them. Aeri massages your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Not really, no.” she can tell you’re nervous by the way your eyes never meet hers, and you keep twitching as if to fight the urge to close your legs and dress yourself. “It might be uncomfortable at first, but then it’s like... a nice kind of discomfort.” her fingers tease the hem of your shorts, lightly brushing your abdomen. Ever since she’s caught you in your room and offered to help, Giselle has been nothing but patient. “You don’t have to do it, though.” she reminds you, still caressing your body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin and-“

“I-“ you took a deep breath, finally gathering enough courage to stand on your elbows and look at her, although you still sounded unsure. “I do want to do it. I’m just ashamed, I guess. You can admit that it’s a bit pathetic, no problem.”

Giselle giggled again, this time with her fingers accompanying her light posture are they ran through your body, picking on your waist and poking your ribs in the places she knows you feel ticklish the most. You laugh and try to squirm under her touch — you’re taller, much taller, but she is stronger, so she quickly strands you entirely, hands locking your wrists up in your head so you couldn’t move or try to get on top of her.

“Hey, no fair! Let me go!” you plead, but your laughter and the weak way you try to run from her is all Giselle needs to know her mission has succeeded: you’re way less tense now.

“You’re so cute, Yn. it’s adorable, really.” she says, kissing each of your cheeks repeatedly. You try your best not to blush.

Even though you were the group’s maknae, you weren’t often reckoned as such, with your height making you impose and usually not the cute girl type. You didn’t mind it, either; you’d rather jump off a bridge than do aegyo anyway.

One of Giselle’s hands let go of your wrists to make its way down your abdomen again, though the other one kept holding you in place. Her featherlight touches still made you squirm, but she held you with such care, you couldn’t help but to feel safe.

“Is it ok if I take this off?” she asked, gripping at your panties as she scanned you for any reservations. You tensed again, but as you opened your mouth to say it was ok, she cut you, “it’s ok, then. We’ll just push it to the sides.”

Giselle knew how insecure you were about your body. The girls were always teasing you and karina for wearing the clothes with most fabric, and you often laughed about it. It was only now, in your newest comeback, that you were beginning to try new things and riskier, revealing outfits. She never understood it, though. You were praised by numerous knetz about your body; how toned, and athletic you were, with your long legs and gracious arms, fit for a supermodel. Which you have been since your teens, for a fact. The company had recently signed you off with Valentino and you were absolutely outstanding walking in Paris Fashion Week, which Karina had also attended, though not as a model. She did try her best to always praise how beautiful you were, though, to make sure you knew it.

True to her word, Aeri tapped your hips, and you raised them as she slipped your shorts past your legs and threw them on your bedroom floor. Your panties were pushed to the sides, as promised, but before her fingers could reach your pussy, the older girl lifted herself up from between your thighs, a slight frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Unnie?” You asked her, looking for any signs of trouble in her yourself. Did you do anything wrong? Should you touch her, too? Does she even want to be touched? Fuck, you were so bad at this. Perhaps if you were any bolder, you would’ve gotten laid already and wouldn’t be in this pathetic situati-

“It’s all ok, Yn-,” Giselle reassured you, squeezing your hips to snap yourself away from your thoughts and back to her, to this. Now that you noticed it, she was gripping each of your thighs with her hands, and her face was too close to your core. Too fucking close. You felt your face get hot and a familiar sensation build up on your lower abdomen. (You weren’t a total prude, of course you’ve touched yourself before, even if it wasn’t often.). “I think my fingers will hurt you if we do them now, though. But don’t worry, I’ll prep you up.”

“What do you mean with prepping me u-oh fuck,” you drop your head on the bedside as she finally gave your pussy a long lick, delighting herself as she saw how responsive you were. Smaller, quieter ones followed, and soon the older girl was nearly making out with her dripping cunt.

You bit your lip, trying not to make any noise, but soon your bandmate’s fingers brushed your lips, forcing their way in.

“Don’t silence yourself,” she told you, watching you suck on her thumb so prettily. It made her so aroused to see how good you were at this. At following commands—her commands. It made Giselle want to rip the rest of your clothes and take you until you were crying for her to let go of you. “It will feel better if you let the sounds out, trust me.” She cupped your jaw before going back to eating you out, so you did as told, not bothering to hide how good this was making you feel at all.

“Ok...” you mumbled, moaning loudly as she teased you with her mouth. You arched your back whenever Aeri slipped her tongue into your dripping cunt, her nose brushing against your clit. The friction it made was out of this world, and you felt the waves of pleasure building up slowly but deliciously to create an entirely new feeling.

“Is it good?” She asked, her hot breath on clit before she gave it a light suck. You nodded, “Tell me.”

“S’too good, oh fuck.” You managed to answer her, breathless. One of your hands grabbed her hair, and you tried to shove her face even deeper into your pussy, but it made Giselle stop instead. You rolled your eyes at her. She was too bossy. “Sorry, unnie. More, please?” You were rewarded, then, as Giselle’s attention went back to your clit, circling it hard and fast as her hands pulled on your panties with enough strength to rip it off.

She grabbed your thighs and gave your clit a hard suck, making you almost scream. You cried loudly as you were hit by a hard wave of pleasure, with Giselle still licking you through your high, her eyes trained on your frame.

She got up and made her way up to you, promptly kissing you with her lips smeared with your juices. “Next time, tell me when you’re close, ok?” She asked, brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You nodded, still brushing her lips.

You could feel her hands in the hem of your hoodie and your shirt, and she stopped the kiss to gesture for you to get your arms up, which you did. Soon you were bare to her, a bit shy from the way her eyes were darkened and she stared at your chest with such lust. You tried to cover yourself, but Giselle was quick to replace your hands with hers instead, cupping your breasts eagerly.

“So pretty, Yn...” she said, and soon you two were making out again, with you on her lap. Your brain had long been reduced to mush and your sole focus was on Giselle: the way her hair was perfectly in place, hands running through all your body.

She was painfully clothed, though, you noticed. A clear contrast to your exposure. You told her just that, trying to get off of her so she’d undress too, but you weren’t allowed.

“Of course I am, silly.” She smiled at you, “This isn’t about me anyways.” And as she reached for you once again, you couldn’t find much strength to be bothered enough to argue, too busy with her kisses and touches. You couldn’t muster how long the two of you spent like that, just exploring each other’s bodies, but it was long enough for you to feel the heat building up on your core a second time, making you worry you were making a mess on Giselle’s thigh.

You tensed when you felt her fingers brushing your entrance, not quite entering but teasing, gathering your slick before going up on your clit, circling it for a few times then presenting themselves again on your pussy.

“Shh, it’s ok,” she cooed, placing wet kisses on your neck. She gently sucked on your pulse point, making you drop your head and moan embarrassingly loud. Thank God the girls were out. “It’s just one finger. You’ve taken fingers before, right?”

You shook your head, whining when you felt it enter you. It burned a little, and it was clearly too tight, but you already felt your entire body burning up. It was too good to stop. She stopped the work on your neck to stare at you, and you saw her eyes darken.

“No fingers? Not even yours?” She gripped your thighs harder, urging you to answer, but you were too busy rocking yourself against her hand to create more friction, anything to deepen this feeling that was already so, so good, “Answer me when I talk to you, yn.” Giselle’s tone was harsh, and you flinched a little. She curled another finger inside you, making you rock yourself onto her faster.

“It d-didn’t do anything when I did it by myself before, so I would just p-play with my clit until I came-oh God.” You squeezed your eyes as she added a second finger, increasing her rhythm.

She was breathless, too, you noticed as she kissed your chest, pinching your nipples and sucking on your breasts without caring if it was messy.

“Fuck, yn. You’ll drive me fucking insane” she murmured. You couldn’t even answer, reduced into a pool of cries and whimpers, but it just felt so good it made you want to cry. How could you have gone so long without it?

Giselle’s grip on you was strong, whether it was in your arms, hips, or thighs, and it would surely bruise later, but you didn’t care a single bit. All you wanted was for her to go harder and faster, not stopping.

“Unnie, please.” You pleaded, searching for her lips as you kissed her sloppily. “More, please, please, ah...” now you were deeply thankful that jimin and minjeong were out. There was no way your moans weren’t being echoed through the entire dorm.

It didn’t matter, though, because your cries rewarded you with an even faster pace, and the pain of being stretched as now only a reminder of the combo of sensations you were feeling.

“You’re such a mess right now, yn.” Giselle told you, her hands on your hips to keep you grinding on her without losing the fast pace. “So, so pretty.” She praised, pecking your lips.

You got shy, hiding your face in the crook of her neck to keep her from noticing how much that aroused you, feeling the familiar heat gathering in your belly.

“Aeri stop, I-I’m gonna,” you motioned to stop, but she only gripped you tighter.

“It’s ok, baby, don’t stop. Come for me.” She commanded, working her fingers even faster as she added her thumb to your clit and circled it fast. With a few strokes, you came.

Your vision went black, and you felt your body go numb, almost as though there were a million fireworks exploding inside of you. You felt Giselle’s hand on your back, tracing light circles as she held you close, still snuggled to her. You took your time evening your breaths, and a few minutes passed until you felt strong enough to get out of her lap and lay in bed, staring at her attentively.

“That was...” you didn’t even know what to say. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” You told Aeri, meeting her gaze.

She licked her fingers clean, the ones who were buried deep inside you just a few moments ago, letting them go with an audible ‘pop’.

“You did very good, baby.” She said, hugging you gently. “I’m glad you liked it. I told you it was good.”

“I guess.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a few seconds. It had been intense, but now you felt like a big-ass truck had run over you multiple times.

The sound of the shower being turned on made you open your eyes again, seeing Aeri besides you, a glass of cold water in your hands.

“Here, take it,” she motioned to you, who complied immediately, drinking it all pretty fast. “How about you take a bath now, huh? The girls might be back anytime.” You nodded, not wanting them to see you like that, and you took the hand Giselle offered to get up and go to the bathroom.

You did see something green displayed on the ground when you’ve reached your bathroom door, though, and you laughed a little to yourself.

“Unnie?”

“Yeah, Yn?”

“We didn’t even use the vibrator.” You pointed it out, seeing Aeri’s big smirk. The girl’s mouth opened in a fake motion as she grabbed it, taking it out of the room with her.

“I guess we forgot. We’ll have to save it for next time, then.” She winked at you, leaving you to shower alone.

Giselle would be caught dead if she wasn’t going to corrupt you all to herself.