#feels like they’re alone at the airport

[is-on-its-way]

Valentines ‘99

Mulder tries to cheer up Scully after the bed sharing and her epiphany in the rain king make her upset. Main event takes place Feb 16th 1999

Part of #HeartDayOneShots challenge here

https://bsky.app/profile/istanyoustan5676.bsky.social/post/3lhhhvgelys2x

He swiveled and grabbed her arm. “Scully, what is it? You’ve been… off for weeks.” He searched her face as she looked like she wanted to run. He leaned closer to her so no one else could overhear. “Have I offended you in some way I don’t know about yet?”

Three weeks, and her words had rattled around his head in every quiet moment. She’d been too devastated to instinctively hide her feelings. The moment they washed over her face, crushed his heart over and over. 

“I won’t deserve him.”

Preposterous for her to ever think that about herself. She was the whole universe. How could she think she didn’t deserve whoever she wanted? He’d tried to say something to convince her, to make her see. But it hadn’t worked. 

Since they’d gotten off the plane and into their cars at long-term parking, she had been withdrawn and avoidant. 

She’d let him go alone on another case. When she stopped taking his calls while he was away, he’d forced himself to do the bitchwork Kersh had assigned them just to be near her. He’d sat through hours of tedious and painful background checks with her glancing at him uncomfortably until she’d suggested they split the room and take one person each to get through the work quicker.

She’d rebuffed him when he’d asked her over for pizza and combing over old X-Files, and again when he’d asked her to The Headless Woman for an after-work beer and game. The Redskins were playing in the divisionals. And then again, semi-desperate, for the Super Bowl.

“No, Mulder,” she’d said, looking past him and utterly downtrodden. She pushed her lips together, and then they parted. He wondered if it was just that familiar way her mouth fell when thinking or if the words had died in her throat.

“Listen, I have to go,” she said and turned around him.

He swiveled and grabbed her arm. “Scully, what is it? You’ve been… off for weeks.” He searched her face as she looked like she wanted to run. He leaned closer to her so no one else could overhear. “Have I offended you in some way I don’t know about yet?”

“What?” She looked at him, then shook her head. “No, it’s not you. It’s-” She heard how it sounded, and her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine, Mulder.”

“No, you’re not.” He dropped his hand from her arm, waiting to see if she would open up.

She’d looked at him then with the same doubtful face she’d had in the airport. “I just… there’s nothing you can do. I just have to…” She started back. “I don’t want to do this here.” She glanced around at the open desks and people milling around.

He softened, deciding he wasn’t helping. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Fix my body for me?” She exhaled with a humorless laugh, looking around to see if anyone was in earshot.

She had dissolved into a blur as his vision collapsed. His stomach dropped as the elevator door dinged. He didn’t follow her, and he didn’t turn up at her apartment like he’d been planning to if she had rebuffed him.

He sat in his car, hands on the wheel in the parking garage. Staring out past the concrete barriers framing his windshield into the building across the street, guilt came thick and warranted. Piled on top of the sore spot of her cancer and her infertility, was the nagging feeling he should tell her he had parts of her body frozen in the best facility Senator Matheson’s wife could recommend. Stored against the doctors’ wishes because he’d also had them tested, and they were found to be completely nonviable. Apart from her and broken just the same.

He wanted to tell her. Had planned to tell her. But the dark hole of dread he felt at what would be her anticipation at the statement “I found your ova” to crushing her soul with “they’re not viable” was enough to make him lightheaded and nauseous every time he thought about it. He imagined her face going from hope, the hint of a smile, to that same look that had been haunting him.

He couldn’t do it to her. 

Not now. 

He owed it to her to tell her. 

He had done this to her. 

He bent over his steering wheel and let the tears fall into his lap.

Two weeks later, he slapped tickets down on her desk as he handed her one of the two to-go coffees in his hand. She looked up at him exasperated, but set her mug of FBI swill down to at least take the offering.

“Mulder…”

“Don’t say anything, Scully. You need a distraction, and I found one, perhaps tenuous, case of a Mr. Ralph Torres.” He leaned a leg over the edge of her desk to half sit. “It’s a background check, not an x-file, and it’s in Florida. We can soak up the sun for a day or two after we check him out.” He wagged his eyebrows and smiled his most boyish smile.

She looked up at him stoney faced, but on the verge of breaking.

“I looked up the weather. It’s 84 degrees today.”

She breathed out, defeated. “Fine, but if this turns out to be frivolous, I’m not explaining it to the auditor.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at four.”

“Or Kersh.”

He pursed his lips and gave a big nod.

“We have six interviews to get through today, Mulder.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” he mock saluted her as she stood, tried to hide her smile, and walked away.

It turned out Mr. Torres was not the stand-up guy he professed to be on his form, and his current wife, ex-wife, grown adult daughter, and work colleagues at the local repo company all confirmed as such. Only his mother sang his praises, and well, that didn’t count for much. So with the rest of the afternoon, they drove to the motel, changed into casual clothes, and drove the 10 minutes to the closest beach.

“You’re right, this was nice,” not looking away from the book she was reading under the shade of the umbrella and beach chair they’d found at the motel.

“I’m glad you agreed to play hokey with me, G woman” he said up at her from his towel in the sunshine, readjusting his shades.

“We’re not playing hokey, we’re… waiting for a flight home after finishing a case.”

====

They ate a quick dinner at a diner with a view of the ocean, and when they got back to the motel, Scully disappeared to her room.

At 12:15 a.m., he knocked on her door.

“Scully, it’s me,” he said in a low voice.

She opened the door, and her head poked through.

“Mulder? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Scully. I uh…” This was so dumb. He should just tell her he’d found a case; she could never say no. “I planned a surprise.” He finished lamely.

She opened the door wide and straightened up, brow furrowed. She was still in the jeans and T-shirt she’d worn to the beach, bathing suit top now gone. He kept his eyes on her lips.

“You weren’t sleeping?”

“No, I was reading. The book got really good.” She turned and walked into the room.

“This late? You’re usually passed out by now.” He followed.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she looked away.

“Oh. Well, I guess it’s a good thing I planned this thing for now.”

“Mulder, what are we here for, really?” She crossed her arms across her chest. Her nipples outlined in the dim light. He found her lips.

“Surfing aliens? The Loch Ness Monster made its way to the bay? What?” She was annoyed, maybe she was feeling better.

“No,” he bit his lip fighting a smile “No, it’s nothing like that. Listen, will you trust me? It’s nothing to do with the x-Files. Just get a coat and shoes; it’s chilly.”

She squinted at him. “What are we doing?” She was interested now.

“Just go with it, will you?”

A half-hour later, they were in the sticks of North Merritt Island. He drove onto a dirt road from the end of the paved one they were on. 

Scully said “ooo, horses” at the field of silhouettes in front of a big barn. Low trees lined the opposite side. The dirt road lead back to pavement, and mulder looked both ways. 

“Well we can’t go straight.”  

“Please don’t drive us into the ocean mulder.” She said absentmindedly, looking out of her window.

He followed her gaze and took a right onto the coastal road, then pulled over when he found a small patch of grass overlooking the bay. It was desolate, just the horses and the crickets to keep them company.

She looked around at him confused. “Mulder…”

He held up a finger, got out, popped the trunk. He returned and threw the motel blanket over the hood of the car.

She was looking at him, mouth agape from inside the car.

“Come on, Scully!” He set a cooler of beer and snacks on top.

She stood on the side of the car, arms crossed.

“Mulder, what are we doing here?”

He looked up as he said it. “Look up, Scully.”

She stood and tilted her head up, and he caught the catch in her breath as she realized the night sky was alight with the half-crescent band of the Milky Way. The moon was a sliver, perfect for stargazing.

“It’s the-”

“Yeah,” she said in awe.

He climbed onto the hood of the rental and dug in the cooler. He pulled out a beer and held it out for her as she climbed up less gracefully than he had.

She crossed her legs, grabbed the beer and swigged it, then giggled. He silently congratulated himself on a good idea.

“Theres grapes and cinnamon rice cakes.”

“Really?” she said her voice rising, touched.

She put the beer in the cooler, took a bunch of grapes, pushed the blanket up on the windshield, and lay back.

He looked down at her and watched her serene expression, her eyes reflecting the stars like glitter. He looked up and chewed on a piece of beef jerky.

It was one of those moments that feels perfect and electric and that you know you’ll remember in quiet moments and smile. He could stay here forever with her, his whole world, as she stood in awe of the universe.

“Thank you for this, Mulder,” her voice carried over the hum of swamp bugs.

“Well, you have about half an hour to enjoy it before the main event.”

This brought her out of her reverie. “What main event?”

She sat up and scanned the horizon.

“Is there a launch?” she asked, swirling back to meet his face, a smile on her lips.

“Uh huh” he admitted.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of these!” she said excitedly.

“I know.”

“Mulder, did you plan this?”

He shrugged. “The less you know, the less you’ll need to lie to Kersh when he finds out.”

He could feel her stare on his face as he leaned back on the car and rested his head on an arm. She met him on the windshield, and they stared at the stars for a while.

“I used to get lost in the sky,” she said finally.

“What do you mean?” He pulled his eyes away from the sky.

“I would…” she glanced at him. “You promise not to laugh?”

“I think you know I can keep an open mind.”

“When I was a kid, I’d imagine- or I’d- I don’t really know.” She exhaled an uncomfortable laugh. “I’d fly up there in the stars…” 

She waited to see if he would laugh. He didn’t. She went on. 

“I’d speed up faster and faster until the stars became streaks.”

“You imagined Star Wars before it happened?” He shifted onto his arm to better look at her.

“No, Mulder, it was realer than that. It… there was this feeling, like I was a tiny speck of dust in this vast emptiness, and it was a miracle I existed.

“Wow.” He was watching her tell the story, intrigued. 

“Did you ever get scared?”

“It was comforting and terrifying at the same time. When I got older though I did, of the weight of it, and couldn’t go back anymore.”

“No shit. Would it happen randomly?”

“Yes and no.”

“I wonder if little you was tied into the spacetime continuum.”

“Probably just an active imagination.”

“Maybe it was just the universe speaking to you, and you listening.”

“Maybe. Not anymore.” She swigged her beer.

“Never say never, Scully.”

“Do you know what they’re launching?”

“Some Japanese rocket.”

She hummed a satisfied “Hmm” and pulled her eyes away from the tent of stars above them, scanning the horizon.

“When does it start?” she asked.

He looked at his watch. “Liftoff is 1:45. One minute.”

They waited in the deafening noise of swamp bugs.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see the liftoff from the ground?”

“Maybe, but the fun part is watching it arc across…”

There was a flash of amber light across the water. He heard Scully’s “Oh!” as she scrambled up to stand on the hood of the car. He sat up, equally excited. The amber turned to a blinding white hot dome in front of them lighting up everything like daylight.

He moved to stand up next to her, not as elegantly as she had. Her face was illuminated in the false daylight. Wonder lit up her eyes. Her eyes widened as a deafening humming reached across the water. It intensified by the second, vibrating the car under their feet and the bones in his body. As the cacophony felt as though it would rip through his chest, the top of the rocket became visible over the blinding light.

Scully reached for his hand, and he gripped it tight, feeling like the power of what they stood in front of would blow her away.

“It’s going so much slower than I thought it would!” she shouted over the noise, her hair whipping around her face.

“It takes a lot of power to lift something that big!”

“What?!” She glanced up at him, face flushed, grinning. He just shook his head and grinned back.

The rocket was arching to the left as it traveled up and away from them across the ocean, the amber flames and swirling white exhaust leaving a faint path in the inky blackness.

“What if it crashes?” she asked as the sound became less of a boom and more droning.

“It’ll fall into the ocean. There’s no one on it; it’s just satellite parts,” he squeezed her hand in his.

There was a ripple in the stars, and a minute later, they heard the boom of the sound barrier breaking.

He let out a sound that might have been less than manly, and she giggled, leaning into him.

“Crazy how sound and light are removed from each other,” she breathed. “Even down here, we always see before we hear.”

“Just how I like it,” he joked.

The rocket was getting too small to see now. Suddenly, a flash, and rainbow-colored vapor exploded in all directions in a circle. 

Scully sucked her breath in.

“It’s the boosters; they’re falling away. It’s okay.”

“Mmm,” she said.

The rocket continued away from the small cloud that had formed in the trail it was leaving. She dropped his hand and sat back down on the car, laying back on the blanket-covered windshield, still watching the speck of a rocket the size of a shooting star now.

He joined her, as did the exhaust that was blowing over in the slight breeze. It smelled like BBQ and a thousand cap guns all fired at once. It wasn’t unpleasant.

“It smells like burnt metal.”

He smiled and looked over at her. “Of course, you’d know what that smelled like.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got welders in my family.”

He tilted his head just slightly to look at her without her knowing, savoring her joy.

The rocket disapeared, but they continue to lay on the car, snacking and drinking, under the blanket of stars on this perfect night, warm breeze blowing off the ocean in the evening chill.

When she started shivering, he spoke.

“We should go.”

“What if I never want to leave?”

“Florida?”

“No, this moment.”

It was like a punch to the gut. His protest of getting her back to the warm hotel died in his throat.

He sat up and hopped off the car wordlessly, crossed around to her side, and held a hand up for her without looking to see if she would take it. Sure, she would.

She sat up, threw her legs over the side of the car, and slid her fingers into his.

“There’s no music” she said skeptically.

He looked over to her as she slid down off the hood. “Yes, there is”, he motioned to the swampy chorus with a jiggle of his head.

She shook her head, but the grin was her giveaway; the head tilt meant he had her.

“That’s my girl,” he said softly.

He put an arm around her, and she stepped closer into him. They swayed to the wind, and the bay lapping at the sea wall, and the crickets or whatever they were.

She looked up at him, contentment radiating from her, but then, as if she remembered a bad dream, her face fell, and she looked away out across the water.

What had he done? Idiot. “Scully?”

“You can’t say things like that to me,” still looking away, still swaying with him.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not-”

He felt a surge of misplaced jealousy and panic. ‘She was his,’ said a voice that had no business being in his head.

“I’m not anyone’s,” her voice hollow.

“Scully, I just meant-”

And then she was sniffling quietly against his chest, and he was just holding her in his arms and not asking questions and rocking her gently because he knew if he did, his conscience would force him to tell her the truth, the whole truth; And he couldn’t do it. Not now. Not this soon. He would though. He’d have to. 

In a little while, he’d ruin her life.

🚀 🌌 🪲 @today-in-fic

[nattaphum]

Before the take off ✈️

[adverbally]

Baby, Please Come Home

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt “together” and the @steddiemas prompt “surprise” | wc: 955 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: future fic, established relationship, alone at Christmas, angst with a happy ending | dividers by @popmilky

“All the flights out are grounded and they’re rerouting everyone coming in. We’re just hoping they can get us in a hotel for the night, otherwise we’re sleeping on the floor of the terminal.”

Eddie sounds so far away through the telephone line. He’s with the rest of Corroded Coffin in New York City, where they’re apparently stuck in the blizzard of the century. The airport is completely shut down, just in time for the Christmas travel season.

“How long do they think it’ll take for the storm to pass?” Steve asks, biting at the cuticle of his thumb. He paces back and forth in front of the phone to work off his nervous energy. It might actually be making him feel worse, moving so much but not getting anywhere, but he can’t just sit here.

Eddie sighs. “No clue. But with how many flights need to be rescheduled, it might be a couple days before I can get home.”

Today is December 23rd, which means— “You won’t be here for Christmas,” Steve realizes.

He hasn’t had a Christmas without Eddie in eight years. Even when they were just friends, they spent the holiday together while Wayne was at work and the Harringtons were in Europe somewhere. Then there were Christmases in their first apartment in Chicago, on the road with Corroded Coffin, even a memorable tropical getaway where their drinks were garnished with Santa hats.

Steve won’t get any of that this year. It was supposed to be a quiet holiday, just the two of them. Now he’ll be alone.

Eddie has clearly come to the same conclusion. “I’m sorry, baby. I’d rent a car and start driving right this second if the roads were clear.”

“It’s not your fault.” He tries hard to keep his voice level and hide any evidence of the tears he wipes from his cheeks. “We’ll celebrate when you get back. Stay safe and say hi to the boys for me.”

Eddie’s voice goes soft. “Okay, sweetheart. I love you. See you soon.”

“Love you,” Steve manages to croak before the line goes dead.

The dial tone seems to echo in the empty apartment for hours.

Christmas Eve passes achingly slowly. Steve spends half the day on the phone, catching up with Dustin visiting his mom back in Hawkins and Robin and Nancy who are snowed in at home in Boston. He waits for Eddie to call, too, maybe with some sort of update on their flight situation.

Eddie doesn’t call.

He stares out the window of their apartment and watches the snow piling up outside. It’s nothing compared to what’s bombarding the east coast, but Steve has always liked the snow. A fresh blanket of white, covering the dirty pavement and muddy slush in the streets with something beautiful. He wishes Eddie were here, complaining about the cold and the ankles of his pants getting wet. Even better, snuggling up with Steve on the couch to watch It’s a Wonderful Life, just like they do every year.

Steve doesn’t try to watch it alone. Instead, he chokes down a frozen dinner and goes to bed at six o’clock so he can have a few hours where he doesn’t have to think about how much he misses Eddie.

It’s very late– or maybe very early– when Steve wakes up to the bed shifting beneath him.

In the dull blue light of the pre-dawn hours, he can only make out shapes. A dark silhouette with messy hair on Eddie’s side of the bed, looking just like Eddie does when he sits to unlace his boots.

Steve thinks he might choke on the wave of emotion that rises in his throat. It’s Eddie, undeniably. He can tell from the exhaustion in his shoulders and his quiet mumbles of frustration when he can’t undo the knot in his shoelaces.

Without thinking, Steve reaches out a hand to settle at the small of Eddie’s back.

Eddie looks at him over his shoulder, an apologetic grimace on his face. “Sorry, I was trying not to wake you up.”

“You—” Steve can barely get a word out before his vision starts to blur and his chest gets tight. The tears he hadn’t let himself shed all day are hitting him hard now, like the shock of Eddie making it home knocked them loose.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry.” Eddie shifts until he’s lying next to Steve, still wearing his jeans and an old henley of Steve’s. He smells like recycled plane air.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to roll into Eddie’s waiting arms. He needs the comfort, the reassurance that Eddie is real and solid and here. “I can’t believe you made it,” he mumbles into Eddie’s shirt.

“Me neither,” Eddie sighs. Already, his fingers are combing through Steve’s hair, trying to soothe both of them at once. “A seat opened up at the very last minute. I didn’t even have a chance to call and tell you I was leaving.”

“Remind me to be mad about that later.” He can feel Eddie’s quiet laugh rumbling through his chest. Steve smiles along with him. “God, I missed you.”

Eddie kisses his temple. “I’m taking you with me next time, I don’t care if it’s only for two shows.”

“Sounds good.”

“And no more holiday concerts.”

“Nuh-uh.” It comes out a little slurred, Steve’s voice feeling as heavy as his eyelids now that he’s comfortable and Eddie is with him.

Eddie is still stroking his hair in long, slow movements. “Go back to sleep, honey. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Steve hums in agreement. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Just before Steve drifts off, he thinks that Eddie might be the best Christmas gift he’s ever gotten.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Love At First Flight

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff, fear of flying

Summary: Your brother gets injured during his job as a quarterback and needs you to fly to him to take care of him. You’re terrified of flying, but who knew a stranger would make you feel safer than you’ve ever been before?

Square Filled: sports injury for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You’re sitting in a crowded airport but you have never felt so alone in your entire life. You close your eyes and tell yourself that this is for your brother. He needs you right now and you’re the only one who can take care of him. Both your parents died when you two were teenagers and you were never close with the rest of your family. You tried asking your aunt for help but she laughed in your face and has never answered your call again.

Screw them. We don’t need them.

Someone sits next to you in the waiting area but you barely register that they’re there. You’re bouncing your leg up and down rapidly and drumming your fingers on your thighs to keep your anxiety in check.

“Nervous flyer?” the stranger next to you says.

You look at him and momentarily stop moving your leg and fingers. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so attractive before. The moment is short-lived and you go back to moving to ease your anxiety.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “I hate flying. It’s one of my biggest fears, actually.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

“My brother needs me. He tore his ACL while playing football. He’s the quarterback for the Las Vegas Raiders. Our parents died decades ago so I’m the only one who can take care of him. He’s taken care of me my entire life. It’s the least I can do for him.” You stop yourself from rambling more. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“I’m flying home to see my mom. She needs me, too.”

A woman stands at the podium and starts calling different groups to board the plane starting with disabled people and military people before moving on to first class. You’re in business class so your group is called not long after. The handsome stranger stands with you since he is in business class as well, and both of you walk onto the place after the woman checks your boarding pass.

You put your carry-on in the compartments above you before taking your window seat. If you’re going to fly, then you have to sit by the window so you can at least see what’s going on outside if needed. The stranger takes the window seat in the aisle behind you, and he gives you a sympathetic smile before sitting down.

You hate feeling claustrophobic so being in a plane with a hundred other people makes your skin crawl. Not to mention the motion sickness and turbulence. You would have driven from Virginia to Las Vegas but your brother needs you sooner rather than later. There’s also the crashing and dying that spikes your blood pressure. You just hate everything about planes. Maybe you’ll rent a car and drive back once you know your brother can take care of himself.

Before you know it, the plane starts to move. You grip the armrests tightly and squeeze your eye shut once the plane begins to pick up speed. You’ve flown before but the worst part is when it lands and takes off. You hate the feeling of your stomach dropping and this is no exception.

Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you look to see a hand come from the small gap between the seats and the window.

“Hey. You can hold my hand if you want.”

You recognize the voice to be the beautiful stranger you met earlier. You don’t think about it and grab his hand with your right one so that you can lay your arm across your lap comfortably. You squeeze the man’s hand just as the plane lifts into the air. It’s only for a few minutes. Just get through this and I’ll be okay. The man runs his thumb across the back of your hand as a way to comfort you.

It’s working. His hand is so warm and so much bigger than yours. Even when the plane gets to a steady altitude, the man doesn’t take his hand away from you. You don’t move either because you like holding his hand. Never in a million years did you think that you would be holding the hand of a stranger on a flight. If the man is uncomfortable because he has to sit forward to reach you, he doesn’t say anything about it.

By the time the plane lands, you realize that this has been the best experience on a plane you’ve ever had.

All because of a stranger whose name you still don’t know.

It takes twenty minutes to get off the plane, and you find yourself waiting for the man in the catwalk.

“HI,” you smile when you see him.

“How was the flight for you?”

“Better because of you. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. I know a thing or two about having anxiety, and I know how uncomfortable you’d be if you had to spend the six hours like that.”

You two walk toward the baggage claim slowly knowing it’s going to take some time for the workers to bring the luggage over.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiles.

“So, how long are you in Las Vegas for?”

“Just for the weekend. My mom has around-the-clock care but I wanted to visit her anyway. What day and time do you fly back to Virginia?”

“I’m not sure.” The carousel begins and the many suitcases start coming out one by one. “I have to see how my brother is. I know it won’t be for a few weeks, though.”

Spencer nods and nibbles on his full bottom lip in thought.

“Can I give you my number? You know, just in case you want to hold my hand on the flight back.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’d fly all the way back over here just to hold my hand on the flight back?”

“I’ll even get a seat next to you.”

Your cheeks heat up from his intense gaze so you have to look away so you’re not overwhelmed. You take out your phone, unlock it, and hand it to him without a word. Your luggage comes out and you heave it over the side of the carousel. Spencer calls himself so you have his number before handing your phone back to you. He grabs his luggage and you two walk toward the pickup/dropoff area.

“It was really nice to meet you, Spencer,” you smile.

“You, too.”

A car pulls up to the place and Spencer gets in. You’ll wait for the bus to take you to the hospital since you called ahead of time and made sure they could do that. Your brother’s car is at the hospital so you’ll use it to drive him back to his house.

Flying still terrifies you but maybe it doesn’t have to be so traumatic for you. Not with Spencer next to you. Maybe you won’t drive home. Maybe you’ll take Spencer up on his offer.

x

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[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Nine - Babymoon

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie takes you up to Canada to visit her family and for a relaxing trip out to cottage country. Her parents are thrilled to see you and to - technically - meet their first grandchild. The problem? They just won't leave you two alone.

Warnings: G!P sex. Masturbation (r), fingering, oral, g!p penetrative sex, preg and breeding kinks, dirty talk, language.

A/N: J and R are horny, y'all. The rest of the series can be found here.

“I used to play hockey at that arena. The locker rooms were terrible. Oh, and I used to run track over there. And you see that store down the way - it used to be this little hobby shop and my dad used to take me there sometimes to buy models or crafts.”

Jessie pointed enthusiastically out the windows of the rental car as she drove you both to her parents’ home from the airport. She’d brought you to her childhood home a handful of times by now, but she never tired of showing you the sights even if you’d seen them all before.

“You’re adorable,” you told her as you watched her affectionately. “And yes dear, I remember. Pregnancy brain hasn’t hit me that hard yet,” you chuckled.

“Oh and that house had the best candy at Halloween,” Jessie went on, undeterred. You laughed.

“Well look at the size of that house. They definitely had full-size-candy-bar money,” you joked.

“I can’t wait until I can take our daughter around town and show her some of these places. And soon enough she’ll have memories like these of her own.”

You smiled softly at her, kissing her hand before resting it on your belly.

“Has she settled a bit?” Jessie asked as she rubbed your bump.

“Yeah, the drive seems to be keeping the activity to a minimum compared to the flight,” you chuckled. “That was the most active she’s ever been. She either loves flying or hates it. Not sure which.”

“Everything seems okay though?” Jessie asked, concern creeping in.

“Yeah, I feel fine. I’m only at 24 weeks, the midwife said I’m well within the safe zone for flying.”

She smiled and relaxed as you gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Alright, we’re here,” Jessie announced as she pulled into the driveway. “I’ll get the bags. You just go in. They said the door’s open. Plus they were probably staring out the window the whole time waiting,” she laughed.

“Their first grandchild is technically visiting,” you said with a smirk. “Of course they’re excited.”

Jessie chuckled. “Yeah, imagine what they’ll be like after she’s born.”

She gave you a peck on the cheek before bounding out of the car and jogging over to your side. She opened your door with a very satisfied smile on her face, counter to the mild glare you gave her. She held out her hand, which you dutifully ignored as you climbed out, somewhat more encumbered than weeks before and it requiring a bit more effort.

“I don’t need help yet,” you said under your breath to her and Jessie just kissed your cheek again. You gave her a teasing look. “You’re just trying to look good in front of your parents.”

“What? I-”

Her words were cut off when her parents opened the door and greeted you both boisterously.

“Oh my gosh,” her mom cooed moments after giving you a hug and immediately had her hands on the swell of your midsection and began asking you rapid-fire questions.

“Mom,” Jessie chided. She was about to interject further when she noticed her dad hauling the bags out of the trunk. “Dad!” She rounded and ended up going shoulder to shoulder with him, jockeying for the leverage and space to grab the bags.

“Oh, you two,” her mom scolded mildly before placing an arm around your back. “Come on, Y/N, let’s get inside. We’ll let these two duke it out.”

After an initial visit with her parents and a quick walk around as they showed you both new things around the house, Jessie and you were free to get settled.

Despite your protests to help, Jessie lugged all of the bags up the stairs to her old bedroom where you’d both be staying.

"Sure you don't want to stay in the guest bedroom?" She asked one final time with a discerning look. It would be much more comfortable. It had a bigger bed and its own bathroom - a very valuable perk as you now got up almost every night to go to the bathroom - but you were insistent on staying in her old room. You said it was sweet being surrounded by remnants of her younger self.

"I'm positive," you said without hesitation as you walked in.

Even though she hadn’t lived at home in many years now, her parents left her room exactly the same. Her old medals and trophies were still there, old pictures and trinkets of hers were still neatly displayed around the room.

“Oh, I love it,” you said as you clasped your hands together under your chin and looked around. “So cute. I can’t get over it,” you said as you held up an old picture of her and some friends. “I really, really hope she has your freckles,” you went on before giving her cheeks a light pinch, and pulling a feigned glower out of her.

“Thanks for being okay stopping here for a few days,” Jessie said as she sat down on the bed. “My parents and grandparents have been begging me to bring you back forever, never mind now,” she said as she pulled you by the hand towards her and kissed your stomach.

“Of course, baby,” you told her as you stroked her face and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m happy to be here.”

“The family stuff’s going to be pretty full on, but you’ll get to relax when we head to the cottage, I promise.”

“I’m not worried,” you assured her as you continued to run your fingers through her hair. Jessie lifted your shirt and kissed your stomach furthermore.

“Okay, cool it,” you ordered as you gently pushed her head away. “You know how I’ve been lately. And yeah, not the time and place. Agreed?” You finished with a look of warning.

She sighed heavily as she leaned back on her hands, arms outstretched. “I know,” she said though her gaze lingered on your body. When you folded her arms across yourself, inadvertently emphasizing your growing bust, she belatedly forced herself to look up at you.

“Jess. I’m not kidding. I am not having sex in your childhood bedroom, okay?”

She made a slight face in mock contemplation. “Well, I did suggest we take the guest bedroom…”

You scoffed and turned away briefly before rounding on her again, arm outstretched and circling the air in gesture.

"You can't even sit like that. Okay? Cause seeing you leaned back like that just makes me want to drop to my knees and suck you off."

Jessie's eyes grew wide at the blunt declaration while your words threatened to cause her blood to pump strictly between her legs. You scoffed further and walked away, leaving Jessie to jump up after you.

“I’m sorry. I understand. I’ll be good, I promise.”

"Mhmm," you voiced flatly. She nearly sighed; she was in the doghouse again.

You ignored her a while longer as you both returned to catching up with her parents. At one point her parents suggested a board game and Jessie went downstairs to pick one out and was relieved when you piped up saying you'd join her.

She matched your pace on the stairs, though she hopped down from step to step. She jumped and turned mid-air landing in front of you at the base of the stairs with a smile on her face though you just rolled your eyes.

"Must be nice to be so spry," you deadpanned.

She held out her hand to you and stepped out of the way giving a small bow. When you side-eyed her and gave a noncommittal hum as you walked on, her face fell in a frown of disappointment.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"This way," she said, more subdued as she led you to an adjacent room. She turned on the light and pointed out the collection, but turned to face you right after. "Why are you upset with me?" She pouted.

"I'm not upset with you," you responded evenly. The way you examined the board games instead of looking at her did little to reassure Jessie.

"You seem upset. And I don't know what I did wrong," she went on.

You were leaned down slightly, hands on your knees as you determinedly studied the game collection, but straightened now and looked her way, your expression unreadable. Jessie frowned as you looked past her for a moment.

Before she could question you, you grasped her hand and pulled her towards you. You took her hand and guided it under the waistband of your pants and underwear until her fingers were against your hot, wet heat.

"Do I still seem upset to you?" You whispered in her ear as your other arm went around the back of her shoulders and pulled her close. Her knees gave slightly as she was overcome by the feel of your arousal and warm breath against her skin.

"Fuck," she said as her eyes closed as she began to automatically stroke her fingers through your swollen folds. "Oh my God, babe."

"I'm horny. And I want you. And I can't do anything about it," you said matter of fact. "That's all."

Jessie's eyes were still closed as she inadvertently began to grind her hips up into you while her fingers continued to explore. She gently circled your clit and wrapped her arm around your back securely as your own knees weakened.

"God, baby, I want you inside of me," you whined under your breath as you subtly rocked against her hand. Goosebumps rose across Jessie's skin as you softly panted in her ear; fingers on one hand running through her hair while your other hand groped her ass needily.

"Kiss me," you ordered as you pulled her head into you. She readily complied, her mouth clashing into yours in a messy, wanting kiss.

Jessie felt that all too familiar tightness forming in her pants as she began to harden. If you two were at home, she would've undressed you and fucked you the way you wanted. However, given current circumstances - there was no way.

She listened for noises beyond your whispers and moans. Hearing nothing, she sunk two fingers inside of your waiting tunnel. She pulsed at the sharp inhale you took and the way you melted into her embrace.

The angle was certainly tougher than months prior, she had to position herself around your burgeoning bump and she couldn't get as deep as she wanted with both of you standing like this, but it didn't seem to bother you.

While you wrapped an arm around her shoulder for balance, you let yourself fall into her waiting hand rhythmically, trusting her to hold you up and she did just so.

"God, baby, you're flooding my palm already," she breathed as she burrowed her head against you and curled her fingers inside of you furthermore. She was rock hard as, despite your efforts, the odd repressed, high-pitched whimper filled her ears.

"Shit!" She cursed as suddenly loud steps began to boom down the stairwell. You rapidly pulled away from one another, both wide-eyed with panic as you both tried to recover.

You quickly adjusted your clothes and fixed your hair. Your cheeks were flushed, but there was nothing to do about that. Jessie glanced at the very obvious bulge in her pants and at her fingers and palm that were coated in your juices.

"How's it going in there?" Her dad called from the other room. "I'm grabbing a couple of photo albums. Y/N, I can show you those pictures of Jessie at the science fair in elementary."

Jessie was still overwhelmed with panic and before she could determine what to do, you took a quick glance at the door before you stepped forward and grasped her hand. You held it up, locking eyes with her before placing her fingers in your mouth and very sensually bobbing your head up and down as you sucked them clean. Jessie's jaw fell at the feel and sight, her cock pulsing once more.

"Amazing! I'll come check them out with you," you called back once you released her fingers from your mouth.

"Babe," she hissed, though all she wanted was to feel your lips around her length.

You smirked and wiped her palm on the inside of your shirt before heading to the door. You were nearly there when Jessie's dad rounded the doorframe. She dropped into a crouch, back angled towards the door as she feigned looking at the games again.

"You two still haven't picked anything?" He asked as he arched an eyebrow. "Well, come on, Y/N, I'll start by showing you pictures first."

"Sounds good to me," you said as you and her dad departed. Jessie watched you subtly over her shoulder and glared when you waggled your fingers at her in a teasing wave with a wink.

It took her longer than she'd like to admit to recover. When she finally deemed it safe to head upstairs, her heart warmed at the sight of you on the couch with her parents poring over childhood pictures and listening attentively as they shared various, albeit, embarrassing stories.

Normally, she'd be bothered by the tales, but all she could focus on was the meeting of these two families of hers - the one she was born into and the one she was making with you.

You were together in the kitchen later and you sidled up to her, your arm brushing against hers as you whispered.

"Seems you recovered okay."

Jessie shot you a half-hearted glare. "Barely. I don't know how you're surviving." She leaned in, keeping an eye out for either of her parents, "From the way you were tightening around me, the way you were whimpering in my ear, seems you were pretty close." She held back a grin at how your shoulders fell and a faint, low groan escaped you.

You reciprocated, leaning back into her, your breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You better finish what you started, that's all I can say."

"Girls! Do you want some crackers to carry you over until dinner?"

Jessie groaned, jaw clenching in frustration as her mom's voice filtered in. Her annoyance dissipated slightly as you kissed her cheek.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with fleeting, hidden flirtations - all interrupted by her parents without fail. At the end of the night, you were all sitting in the living room watching a movie together, Jessie and you sitting together under a blanket on the couch with her parents on the other.

Jessie did her damn best to ignore the way your hand very subtly caressed her leg, inching so slowly towards the inside of her thigh. She shot you a few, increasingly less subtle looks of warning as you continued your incognito explorations.

At one point, Jessie felt herself start to grow firm and she cleared her throat, shuffling slightly away from you. She ignored the look you gave her.

She thought things were in the clear until you quietly excused yourself. Her parents offered to pause the movie, but you insisted they keep watching. Jessie's eyes followed you as you ducked upstairs.

She fidgeted for a while until she felt enough time had passed that she could reasonably excuse herself as well, also insisting that her parents keep watching.

Quietly padding down the upstairs hall, she frowned as she scanned the doors - seeing you weren't in the bathroom. Her bedroom door was closed though.

She gingerly opened it, peeking her head around the door and was met with a shadowy visual of you on the bed, legs spread, your hand between your legs. You met Jessie's shocked gaze, yours entirely unfazed, your motions not faltering, clearly knowing it would be her walking in.

Her jaw was slack yet again that day as she stepped inside quickly and closed the door quietly behind her. The second the door closed, you allowed soft moans to fall from your mouth.

"Jesus Christ, babe," Jessie whispered as she approached.

"I was hoping you'd follow me," you said. "I couldn't wait any longer."

No coherent thoughts ran through her mind as her eyes raked over your naked form in the pale moonlight. The curve of your breasts shone in the glow, your darkened nipples drawing her attention. And the ever growing roundness of your stomach caught the light just so, casting a shadow between your legs that was only illuminated every time your wrist moved as you played with your clit. She could hear how wet you were as opposed to seeing it, and the sound alone caused her to start to swell.

She hooked her arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed as she settled wordlessly between your legs, hooking yours over her shoulders. Wasting no time, she buried her face in your wet folds, tongue wide and soft as she began to lap up the juices that dripped from your entrance.

You immediately let out a high moan, but you both stopped right away, your hands coming to your mouth in surprise, but to also muffle anything further. Jessie waited a few moments to let you recenter, but your hand coming to the back of her head told her the break was over.

She began to hungrily eat you out, her tongue pushing inside of you, circling your entrance, tracing up and down between your folds, tongue firm, then soft, over and over before flicking across your clit while she sucked.

Muffled whines came from you as your legs tensed and relaxed intermittently around her head. Your fingers dug into her crown, tugging her hair sharply now and then before releasing and caressing her and starting all over.

Eventually, you shifted slightly, tugging at her hair differently than before.

"I need you," you said as you signaled for her to stand. She quickly rose to her feet, undoing her pants and dropping them to the floor along with her boxers. She glanced at the bed for a moment, grabbing you a pillow and tucking it under your hips.

"Sorry," she said for not thinking of it sooner.

You didn't say a word, instead grabbing her by her hard on and pulling her towards your entrance.

"Okay, baby," she said, holding back a chuckle at your eagerness. She lined herself up and pushed herself forward, slipping inside of you effortlessly with how worked up you were.

"Oh Jesus," Jessie mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped around her. "Fuck," she breathed as she drew her hips back and began to thrust into you with slow, firm strokes.

Your hands came up to your face, fingers digging into skin as a long, soft moan fought its way up your throat.

"God, I love you," you said, head thrown back. "I needed you so badly."

"I need you, too, baby," she said as she began to gradually pick up her pace.

"Fuck me harder, baby," you pleaded as you moved your hands to the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss, Jessie needing to angle herself around your swollen middle. "I need you."

"Mm," Jessie groaned as she rolled her hips as she thrust into you. "I can't. I want to - God, I want to. But we can't be loud."

"I just want you to fuck me," you told her desperately as you began to claw at the back of her neck. A muffled cry fell from her lips as the sensation, arching her back over you, a hand subconsciously resting on the side of your bump. She went to lift herself back up so there was zero risk of her weight on your stomach, but you pulled her back up. "I want you with me."

Jessie nodded, angling herself again despite how uncomfortable it was, but if that's what you wanted and needed, then she'd gladly do it.

Despite what her mind told her, Jessie began to pump faster into you. The bed jostled, but it didn't creak. The loudest thing was the sounds that came each time she withdrew to the tip before driving her full length back inside of you. A small grunt escaped her as she dug her fingers into your thigh.

"I love you," she panted above you. "God, you're amazing."

You kissed her hard, but pulled back with a breathy laugh.

"How many girls have you fucked in this bed?"

"Huh?" Jessie frowned, blinking as she processed your question though her hips didn't falter.

"I said," you grasped her chin gently and bit her lower lip, giving it a tug, "how many girls have you fucked in this bed?"

"N-none," she responded, a deeper frown etched on her forehead. You knew better. You knew her whole history. Including the fact that she didn't get laid until university.

"Well lucky me," you said, a lilt in your voice as you traced your tongue along her lip.

Jessie chuckled, finally leaning back, grasping your legs and holding them out - careful not to do so in a way that'd strain you. She looked down at you as she fucked you and a smug smirk crossed her face.

"You're the only one in a lot of ways, babe. Definitely all the ways that count." She told you. You bit your lip and she went on quietly. "The only girl my whole family's met. The only girl I've bought a house with. The only girl I've given a ring to. And certainly," she rolled her hips in emphasis as she let her hands caress your stomach, "the only girl I've given my baby to."

"Oh fuck," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you draped an arm across your eyes, "I'm gonna cum. Don't stop."

Jessie was nearly on the verge as well as she did as she was commanded. She saw the way you bit down on your lip and buried your head into the sheets. You were so close.

"Girls! Is everything okay? Is Y/N? alright?"

"Oh fuck," Jessie hissed and you bit back a groan as footsteps ascended the stairs. Her hips stuttered as she fought between throwing caution to the wind and just chasing your high and stopping altogether. She looked down at you and you'd begun playing with your clit, hips still rocking against her.

Her voice got caught in her throat as pleasurable sensations shot through her as you began to convulse around her, squeezing her tight as your pussy pulsed around her. Her mouth opened and she blinked rapidly as she fought to react.

"Yeah, we're fine!" She eventually managed, your fingers now circling around her base and urging her to cum. She shot you a bewildered look as that familiar tightening and rush began to mount between her legs. She winced as the footsteps continued to approach. "We'll be down in a minute!" She called through the door, praying her voice wasn't as strained as it seemed in her head.

You continued to rock against her and suddenly her tension hit a peak and her jaw fell as she began to spill herself inside of you.

"Okay. We paused the movie. Come down when you're ready," her mom called.

"Thank you! We'll be down soon," you called through the door, finally coming to Jessie's aid as she instinctively held her hips flush against you, cum still pulsing inside of you, eyes screwed shut, her shoulders high and tense in the midst of the conflict between her physical and mental self.

When she finally came down from her climax, she dropped to her knees on the floor and between your legs, chest heaving as she recovered.

"That was mean," Jessie said as she glowered at you.

"The cum you dumped inside of me tells me otherwise," you said lightly as you pushed yourself off of the bed and began to get dressed. Jessie kept her eyes narrowed at you as she watched you. With a heavy breath, she hoisted herself up off the ground and began getting changed as well. She didn't take her glare off of you the entire time.

You walked up to her, unbothered, and rest a soft hand on her cheek as you gave her a peck.

"Look at us, sneaking around like a couple of horny teenagers," you said with a teasing smile before giving a nonchalant shrug. "It's actually kind of fun."

-----------------

"Oh my God," you breathed as you fell into the couch cushions of the cottage you two were renting. Though you still had three months to go, your stomach had already grown enough that sometimes when you sat, you automatically sat with your legs wide to accommodate your bump that rest low above your hips.

"Are you okay?" Jessie asked as she set down the backpack from your hike onto the wooden floor with a light thud. She crossed over to you, crouching in front of you and gently kneading your leg.

"I'm fine," you sighed, allowing your eyes to fall shut as your hand came up and idly rubbed your stomach. "I think I just pushed it too much. It's so stupid - that hike wasn't even hard. It was a walk not a hike, yet my hips and my back are so sore."

"Baby, I'm sorry," Jessie said, a frown of concern settling on her face. "I shouldn't have picked that hike. And I should've checked in more."

"Stop," you said, head lolling languidly side to side in dissent. "I thought it'd be totally fine and you checked in; I just kept pushing." You opened your eyes to look at her, offering a faint smile. "I'm not in pain, I'm just a bit sore and uncomfortable."

She hummed quietly and rubbed your hips gently. You winced softly and her frown deepened.

"I'd run you a bath, but...," Jessie trailed off, gaze flitting away. Though beautiful, the one flaw with this rental was the failing hot water. It was lukewarm at best and ran cold within a few shorts minutes. She was beyond annoyed by it.

"It's okay, really," you assured her as you waved her attention off.

"Here, let me help you up. Go lay on the bed, I'll start a fire and I'll give you a massage," she offered. You cocked your head in contemplation before giving a slow nod. Jessie beamed. "Okay."

Soon, she had a fire roaring in the fireplace and you were naked on the bed with Jessie gently and meticulously working your muscles, laying soft sweet kisses on you now and then as she went.

"I'm telling you right now, nothing's happening tonight," you told her, eyes closed as you lay on your side, Jessie rubbing the small of your back. "I'm just too uncomfortable."

She held up a hand in mild defense. "Heard. Got it. No funny business. That is more than fine. I just want to make you feel better."

"K, thank you," you said as you blindly reached down, pawing until you found her hand. You lifted it to your lips, giving her a small kiss before releasing it and sighing as you settled in again.

Jessie carried on dutifully, truly just hoping to make you feel better. That is, until you reached back and started to caress her leg. She didn't think anything of it initially until you hand continued to wander higher up and inward when possible, fingers kneading into her muscles.

A frown settled on her face as she fought off the urges that were building between her legs. You began to moan softly at her ministrations, shifting slightly under her touch, and it was doing more to her than she cared to admit. However, the burgeoning hard-on forming in her shorts - the one that she was working to conceal from you - would give her away. She cleared her throat and refocused her attention on the wall, trying to think about anything but how good you looked and sounded.

With the fire roaring across the room, the light it cast against you accentuated your bump. She quietly observed the faint line that was forming from your naval to your pubic bone and the way the light danced across your skin.

It was such a strange sensation, a tingling in her chest upon seeing the way your body changed as the new life you two created grew within, and the way her arousal grew at knowing it was her who made you like this; that it was her you let transform you in this way.

"I changed my mind," you eventually said in a whine, legs rubbing together.

Jessie looked away, wondering what to do.

"About?" She asked innocently, though she was hopeful about what you were meant.

"You know what," you whined further, peeking an eye open at you.

"...you sure?" she asked apprehensively. "Cause there's no pressure at all."

"Your tented shorts tell me otherwise, baby," you said teasingly. Jessie blushed madly, closing her legs and timidly shuffling away from your prying eyes.

"Ignore that," she mumbled.

"I don't want to. I want it in me," you said resolutely, reaching back for her.

"Babe...," Jessie went on. "You're sore already."

"You took such good care of me. I feel better," you assured her. She gave you an unconvinced look and you implored. "I'm serious, baby. I want you."

Jessie hesitated further, but when you placed her hand between your legs, her fingers immediately being met with your arousal, she caved.

"Okay, but, you just stay like that, I don't want to strain you at all," she said as she took off her clothes and settled in behind you. She kissed the back of your shoulder and wrapped her arm around your stomach, thumbing it affectionately as she spooned you.

She continued laying slow, sensual kisses along the back of your shoulder, smirking at how you began to writhe in her arms.

"Baby, please."

She gave you one more lingering kiss before she pulled her hand back to line herself up with your entrance.

"Since you asked so nicely," she said, as she slowly entered you. You gasped softly as you reached a hand back over your shoulder to run your fingers through her hair.

"Mm, you feel so incredible every time," Jessie praised as she slowly drew back and pushed in again. She reached around your swollen midsection and placed her hand between your legs to gently play with your clit.

"Oh God, Jess," you said as you writhed under her touch. You moaned. "Mm, you feel so good inside of me." You leaned your head back into her and she pulled you closer as she pushed deeper inside of you.

She kissed along your back softly, your body rocking within her embrace as she made love to you in the warm glow of the nearby fire.

Eventually, Jessie propped herself up on her forearm to look down at you. As nice as it was to hold you in her arms, she missed seeing your face as you made love.

She shifted further, pulling out momentarily as she knelt, knees wide and now leaning over you, one arm behind you and one arm in front.

"Mmm," you complained, a frown on your face as you looked at her. "I liked being held by you." She kissed your shoulder as she lined herself up again.

"Let me try this," she said as she pushed inside.

You moaned as she sunk deep into you. In this new position, she was free to angle her hips better and a few strokes in, she began to pick up her pace, something she couldn't easily do before.

A renewed moan fell from your lips, your mouth dropping open as Jessie held herself up over you and began to thrust steadily and deeply inside of you, her hips free to bounce easily and quickly in this position, while still not adding weight or stress to your body.

"Oh shit," you panted as she fucked you with fervour, sweat starting to bead around her hairline.

"God, you look fucking beautiful," Jessie said as she stared down at you adoringly. "You look even more amazing carrying my baby than I even imagined."

Your hand came up to the back of her neck and you moaned heavily.

"I can't believe I waited so long to let you get me pregnant," you said, hand still caressing the back of her neck. Jessie groaned, eyes closing briefly.

"You know what that talk does to me," she said as her pace quickened slightly.

"It's crazy to think about," you went on. "Back when we first met - to think I was sitting across from the woman who - in a few years - I'd be underneath, legs spread, begging her to pump her baby into me."

"Christ," Jessie cursed as she gave a slight shake of her head, trying to hold back her orgasm which was now rapidly approaching as your words egged her on.

Your other hand came to your stomach and caressed it.

"We don't even have our first yet and I already want you to give me another."

"Babe," Jessie said desperately, her hands clenching into fists on the mattress. "I'm gonna cum if you keep that up."

"Do it. Cum inside of me, I want you to," you said as your fingernails dug into the back of her neck.

She didn't want to oblige, she hated cumming before you did. She balanced on one hand, returning the other to your clit, encouraged by how your eyes closed in pleasure and your sounds rose in pitch.

She felt a bead of sweat run down the side of her face and she panted in effort, but she knew you were close. When you finally clutched the sheets and a cry fell from your lips, she couldn't help herself and she came with a stunted moan, legs spreading wider as she angled and pushed herself as deep inside of you as she could.

"Fuck," she panted, head falling back as she looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly as wave after wave of pleasure shot through her as she emptied herself into you. As the last few drops drained out of her, she gave a couple of slow, prolonged thrusts before collapsing next to you, her arm draped over your midsection.

When she came to, she laid slow, gentle kisses along your waist and up your body, finishing at your flushed cheeks. Her heart swelled as she looked at you.

“I love you.”

[botchedsundoll]

requests still open? insomniac anon is back

re fluff hcs with a reader who's on a trip? family, work, any reason; just some temporary absence/reunion scenarios

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; absence/reunion hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; bought ps plus iusy to play ff7 and ff15 again ermmmmm, this is mostly random bs i thought of on the spot😁, also i always think of re5-re6 chris and og re4 leon when writing these but its up to u😘😘, no proofread yikes

C. OLIVEIRA

you’d think he was grieving your loss by the way he was acting

doesn’t necessarily let it show too much into his daily life (for exp. work) but you can still notice he’s not as up beat as he usually is

sends you random photos of the things he gets up to whilst your gone, and half the time they’re things that make you regret even leaving him alone - such as something he’d made in the oven all over the floor as he dropped it by accident, captioned with a single ‘oops’

but you get some heartwarming videos here and there amidst all the chaos and random bullshit. like him fixing the piece of jewellery you’d complained about breaking for so long, or something as simple as him trying to learn to cook your favourite dish to welcome you back

sends you photos of him brushing his teeth every morning. send one back.

yet once you’re back? it’s as if nothing ever happened. INSISTS on being the one to pick you up, no ifs or buts

absolute bone crushing hug, spins you around whilst he’s at it before attacking your face with kisses. he’s missed you, okay?

L. KENNEDY

he tries to ignore your absence as much as possible

tries to keep his hands and mind busy at all times, simply to not think about you not being with him

sends a message daily, asking how you are and if everything’s alright. he’d prefer to call you, but he refrains from doing so as he doesn’t want to disturb you in any way ;(

but whenever you call, you best believe he answers literally on the first ring (if he’s not at work, yet even if he is he manages to somehow answer the phone) and has a small smile on his face basically the whole time you’re speaking with him

tends to start taking less care of himself once you’re gone due to him overworking himself to keep his mind off things. it’s a bad habit, he knows, and he’s guaranteed to have a lecture from you once you’re back

but he doesn’t mind like at all - subconsciously does it on purpose so you dote on him once you’re back but you didn’t hear that from me

long ass hug once you’re back, face buried in your neck as he simply takes in the scent of your perfume once more - until you comment on his eyebags and the lecture begins

a small smirk tugged on his face and a ‘what, worry that much ‘bout me?’

C. REDFIELD

workaholic at heart. so he works even more to make up for your absence

calls you twice a day without fail - once in the morning, once at night just to simply hear your voice and ask you about what you’ve been up to

won’t ever admit it, yet going to bed without you now feels strange. sure, he might sleep flat on his back half the time and be out cold most of the time when you’re just getting into bed, but he can’t help but miss the thought and feeling of you throwing your leg over his hips and snuggling against his bicep. he’s a simple man

hates when you leave because your cooking’s gone. there is genuinely nothing this man loves more than a meal home cooked by you, and having that stripped away from him is, to him, worse than having to deal with all the BOWs and shit at work

claire’s always asking him when you’re back for 2 reasons; 1, she genuinely wants to know to see you again and 2, she loves reminding chris of the fact you’re gone and winding him up about it. sibling love

will literally decide himself that he’s picking you up. whether that be the airport or a whole different city, he’s coming for you himself. you get no say in it

you come running at him and throw yourself against his chest, which prompts him to wrap his arms around you with a small grin on his face

[gotta-winwin]

Wahhhh so excited for vernon x reader!!!!!!

Can i request something like idol!jun x reader, i really miss jun 🥹🥹🥹 maybe reader is on another hybe group and him surprising him, or anything HAHAHAHAH

actor!jun x idol!reader headcannons

a/n: wasn't exactly like the prompt you gave, anon, but i hope you still enjoy! we're all in our missing jun hours sadly :(( but it feels nice knowing he's thriving in the element he loves.

your shared google calendar is a hot mess.

The two of you have busy work schedules, as you juggle upcoming comebacks, award shows, reality and variety filming, meetings with the higher-ups - the day literally never ends. Jun is the same, always trying to balance his filming gigs and promotional side quests. It’s rare for the two of you to have a day off - let alone ALIGN your days together. Trust that your shared google calendar is a battlefield filled with colorful agendas and very minimal white space. 

bad wifi is your everyday lifestyle. 

Curse Jun and his gift of choosing acting gigs where their filming locations are always in the ass-crack of nowhere. You’re both well accustomed to facetime with spotty service, delayed speech and glitchy faces. It’s turned into quite the game, as you both attempt to screenshot the worst photo of each other possible, while still maintaining your own image and reputation. It’s a pain to communicate, constantly having Jun reply to something you had said minutes ago, but you two make it work. 

dating rumors are a joke. 

With both of you being well into the social media spotlight, you’re prone to many, many dating rumors throughout your career. It’s Ateez’s Mingi one day, then TBZ’s Haknyeon the next, Jun doesn’t even bat an eye at this point. He knows who he is at the end of the day - your boyfriend. On the other hand, it’s not the first time he’s gotten an earful from you about dating rumors with his pretty costars, although he knows it’s all in good fun. All it takes is one sweet sentence to get you to fold: “it’s you I’m coming home to lao po, besides, can’t you see how forced that kiss is? I kiss you with much, much more fervor than that.” 

you see his friends more than you see him.

His friends run in the same circles as you do, all talented idols that often share your stage in performances. It’s funny to think you see them more often than you see him, although they’re always ready to tell you just how much Jun complains about your distance in their group chat, exposing you boyfriend to be the clingy lover he really is. They’ve aided you many times in sneaking away from your job to visit Jun, covering your ass so you can spend even just a couple hours with your boyfriend in China. 

planes and airports are the ideal date spot.

It’s not rare to have the two of you go on a “date” at airports, using the special time your schedules cross over to spend time with each other. The airport buffets become your picnics, the lobby fountains hear all your well kept wishes and the seating area has seen…one too many things. 

your jokes are the world’s jokes

Jun loves slipping little tidbits of your shared life into his work, nudging the writer of whatever project he’s starring in to add a couple lines referencing something only the two of you would know. He loves your shocked expression when the project finally airs to the world, his phone blowing up with loving texts as you swallow the idea that your lover has included you in his work. It’s just his talent - Jun somehow finds a way to bring you everywhere with him. 

your love is the world’s love

You would never admit it on camera, but most of your lyrics and songs are either written with or written about Jun. While everyone else is scrambling to figure out just how you do it, you and Jun can rest easy knowing it’s your shared secret, along with your secret romance. 

[merlucide]

PLEASEEEEE CAN YOU WRITE HEADCANONS WITH RIN, KAISER, SAE, OTOYA AND REO AND A SHYREADER WHOS SHY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOESNT KNOW BUT CRAZZYYYY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOES KNOW PLSSSSS

BLLK BOYS WITH A SHY BUT CRAZY S/O

Notes: OFC WIFEY. Also… this scenario, seems, a bit self insert don’t you think…. 👀 ALSO LMAO I MADE READER UNHINGED?? SO- SORRY LMAO?

characters: Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Otoya, Reo

wc: about 300ish each

warnings: nb reader, cursing, randomness + cringe lmao😭

ITOSHI RIN

Well tbh, y’all probably had to have been friends for a loooong time for him to ever considering dating you 😭😭

So Rin had a good understanding of your personality, as you had known each other pretty much since the beginning of time.

He never understood how your personality went from 0 to 1000 whenever you two are alone. 

He prob thinks ur on drugs tbh

He’ll be your voice for you if you can’t seem to communicate with strangers, though he might not be the friendliest no shit.

he thinks it’s dumb that you’re shy tbh

He’s small minded about these things okay 😭

He never ever will get used to your bursts of crazy energy.

he swears he’ll turn around and you’ll have a horse mask on with a tutu around your waist

ITOSHI SAE

lmao you give him terrible whiplash.

He too, also thinks you’re on drugs.

You and Sae would like be at the airport on the way to Japan, his manager would be going over the details and precautions for going to Japan (yk fans and press or whatever etc etc).

His manager looked over to you and asked if you were alright, since you literally hadn’t spoken a word since he introduced himself a two hours ago. 

You nodded and followed Sae and his manager onto the private jet(cus he’s rich-rich😌🤭)

Once y’all were settled, his manager closed you and Sae’s cabin door. 

Sae looked over to see if you were alright, since traveling and yadda yadda can be overwhelming.

You were fucking giggling like an underwater hyena (that’s a thing I bc I fucking said so bitch).

You grabbed his hands and pulled back and forth giggling about how stoked you were rn.

LMAO HE WAS TOTALLY LOOKING AT U LIKE THIS

KAISER MICHEAL

lmao he was disturbed at first 💀

like “wtf happens to my shy, sweet, s/o??”

He’ll like be getting a glass of water at night and in the corner of his eye, you hold a flashlight at your face with a blanket wrapped around you. Staring into his soul, inches behind singing.

“hello darkness my old frienddd~”

He just blinked at you for a while. 

“Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you.”

ANYWHOOO!

He thinks it’s funny af though

Like how nervous you get around his teammates and then when y’all are home you start cartwheeling.

You sure keep his life ✨spontaneous✨

OTOYA EITA

LMAO A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

YOUR RANDOM AF.

HES RANDOM AF.

= SOULMATES

he thinks it’s so cute how shy you are

He loves that bc ur shy around strangers you cling/stay close to him. He feels so sigma male bc he’s ’protecting’ you🐺🐺🔊🔊🗣️🗣️😏😏

Someone humble him please.

LMAO HE’LL GO LIKE:

“Babe watch this😏” and ninja pose really fast LIKE A LITTLE KID DABBING

And you’ll be like:

“Nah watch this😌” *does the worm*

Y’all T-pose at pidgend together 💕 #couplegoals

MIKAGE REO

LMAO HE’LL BE DAYDREAMING AND LIKE-

“My dearest Y/N! Oh they’re such an angel! They’re so pretty and kind and perfect! And amazing- is that them in a dinosaur inflatable doing the WAP in 6 inch heels?”

lmao kinda how it goes

He never really gets used to the switch up.

It makes him so happy that you feel comfortable to be yourself around him, even if that means painting yourself pink and putting googly-eyes on while blasting the Peppa Pig intro💗

He loves hearing people talk about you too.

“Oh y/n is really shy, but they’re nice I guess?” Like hah okay..

Pretty sure they weren’t crab walking in a tuxedo with a kazoo in their mouth playing Sinfonia N°9 Coral in D Minor, Op. 125: 1. Allegro ma non troppo, un poco maestoso by Beethoven 🙄🙄

LMAO I HAD NO IDEA WERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. I WAS LIKE “wtf am I gonna do😦”

made April 21st 2024

[sscieloz]

Unnie’s sweet girl

Yu Jimin x Ning Yizhuo

Synopsis: Ningning is exhausted. Aespa’s 2024 schedule has been cramped for the entire year, and SM isn't of any help, with the way they keep fucking her over in every situation possible. She's stressed, overwhelmed, and upset. Thankfully, her unnie knows just what she needs to forget about all that.

Warnings: smut. breastfeeding. mentions of blood & anxiety. ning just needs to suck on some titties to feel better tbh that’s what this is about. you name it now

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: FIRST OF 2025!!! love that 😤😤

—

Ningning is exhausted. Aespa’s 2024 schedule has been cramped for the entire year. The girls spent months without a break, bouncing between practice rooms, award attendances, and airports no matter how exhausted they were. The price of being SM idols had hit them especially hard, this year— more than anything, the company keeps treating them like dolls. No breaks, no opinions, no excuses. They’re nothing but a form of profit, unable to do anything but obey orders and act like puppets 24/7.

It’s rough for all of them, naturally. Still, even though Karina, Minjeong, and Giselle are just as exhausted as she is, Ningning still gets it the roughest. All because of that bastard company— the one who went so out of their way to scout her back in China, with their xenophobia and misogyny. Their endless sabotaging will be the end of her, Ningning knows it.

SM’s sabotaging was starting to grow more obviou. It’s no news that they’ve cut her from brand deals, fan meetings, and fashion show appearances— even though Donatella's emails are frequent.

She wants Ning to be her it girl. It’s what she was born to be, the woman tells her. Ningning wants it so bad, too.

Frustration gnaws on her stomach, building up her throat until she’s so disgusted and disappointed with the company’s blunt xenophobic attitudes her entire body trembles, as she sweats and gulps in hopes this uneasy sensation will soon fade.

It doesn’t. Never does, for a fact. Yizhuo should be used to it, by now; it’s been weeks since she’s pretending not to notice her constant trembling, the way her hair keeps falling out despite not being bleached or trimmed in months, her clothes getting looser… being an idol is hard enough, with the amount of expectations and personas she’s supposed to live up to, and SM does an excellent job of making every second of Ningning’s life a living hell.

At least she knows she’s not alone in her miserable feelings. Just like Aespa’s members blossom together in every victory they get to celebrate, their struggles are rather similar. It’s easy to tell how they’re all barely pushing through: Minjeong’s body is covered in bruises, Giselle’s just recovered from an allergic reaction that is so bad her eyes are still puffy, even after weeks of treatment, and her coughing fits haven’t yet ceased. Karina is the only one who still seems somehow unharmed, pulling off their scrutinizing routine with a smile on her face.

Ningning knows she’s trying to keep it together so they won’t break, but it’s an unspoken truth that their bodies will soon give in if they don’t get some rest.

She was currently in bed, regretting her life choices after Giselle murmured a bland excuse and left their shared hotel room to stir off her own nerves on some other idol’s account. Not that Ningning minds it, of course. If anything, she’s envious. As much as she loves the rapper’s confidence to go have her fun and screw a bunch of idols whose identity she refuses to reveal to her bandmates, a part of Ningning also wishes for the guts to risk it all too. To allow herself to have some fun, just for one night.

Heaven knows how much she needs it.

Instead, Ningning’s boring self is entertained by her favorite TV show, Love island, in the company of her favorite plushies, the ones she takes with her everywhere, wondering when she became that lost in life.

Her sheets feel too hot. Ning’s sweating, even though the AC has been turned on for ages now. Suddenly, she can’t breathe. It’s too much, she can’t keep going like this. It hurts. The pain of existence hits her like a strong hit of wind, cutting through her chest and placing the heaviest burden on her heart. It infiltrates in her lungs, and she can’t breathe. Ningning’s hands go to her chest, trying to get the air she so desperately needs, but it does nothing to ease her suffocation.

There isn’t much she can do, then. Usually, Ningning would practice the exercises her therapist recommended to her, but her mind is currently too troubled to focus on anything but her agony. She chokes on air, pausing her the TV so she has at least something to occupy her hands with.

Thankfully, a knock on the door pushes the maknae’s darkest thoughts to the back of her mind. Ningning is soon presented to her leader’s smiley face, then, as the oldest enters her room without an invitation.

Not that she needs one, anyway. Karina is every bit of the perfect, caring girl she portrays herself to be on camera— she doesn’t need an invitation to her maknae’s bedroom. The leader always makes sure everyone around her is safe and cared for, often going out of her way to take care of others.

“Hi, Ningie,” Karina says, with a muffled voice as the youngest hugs her with a strength that is nearly suffocating. She doesn’t mind, though. If anything, Karina chuckles, trying to hug her back despite having both of her hands busy. “I thought you looked a bit down today, so I brought some snacks to cheer you up.”

In the older girl’s arms, Ningning melts. As always, Karina always knows what her members need, sometimes before they do so themselves.

Ning buries her head on the crook of Karina’s neck, pliable in the girl’s arms. She’d accept everything Karina suggested, eager to please her leader.

“Thank you, ‘Rina.” She murmurs, still clinging onto Karina’s neck like a koala. There are no complaints— instead, steady arms circle her waist and the maknae is urged up, locking her legs around Karina’s waist as the leader carries her to bed like she weighs nothing.

To avoid the leader’s worried gaze, Ningning gets busy with arranging the snacks the older girl had gotten for them once Karina delicately places her down on the bed. If the leader took as much as a glance at Ningning, she’d be able to see right through her. And the last thing the maknae wants is to be vulnerable like that.

She could handle herself, just like she’s always done.

Yet it’s hard to not fall apart when the eldest adjusts herself next to her and brings her closer until there’s barely room for air, as they cuddle and watch a random couple have clothed sex on the TV. As much as Karina frowns at Ningning’s choice of entertainment, she doesn’t comment on it.

Ning’s starved. It’s always like that when the leader is present; a few words of validation, some head pats thrown around and she’s sold, completely surrendered to the idol’s mercy.

A mess, that’s what she is— mostly one of the consequences of being thrown around to the public as soon as she could walk. In her 22 years of life, she’s attended so many survival shows and singing competitions that work became more than just a part of her routine, it defined her entire self. After some time coping with her feelings, Ningning came to understand that her lonely life led her to be touch-deprived to an embarrassing amount. She craved people’s recognition, their praises, and most of all, their uttermost affection.

Usually, this desperate need of hers would be carefully hidden in a quiet, obscure corner of her brain. But Ningning can’t help it, at the moment. Not when her unnies’ validation hit so deep.

Instead of being annoyed with the maknae’s clinginess, Karina sighs, brushing her thumb against Ningning’s mouth. Her lips are bruised and sensitive, but because it’s Jimin, she doesn’t mind.

Karina can do to her as she pleases.

“Ningie…” Her voice is low, almost as if she’s afraid Ningning would break. To avoid that, the maknae invites her in with an open mouth. As if they were made for that, Karina’s lithe fingers slide easily, depriving her of any clear thoughts. “I thought you had that handled. Have you been going to therapy?”

It’s Ningning’s turn to be annoyed. She moves her head abruptly, choosing to focus on her balcony’s view instead of Karina’s worried gaze. “You know we don’t have time for that, Jimin. Or for anything else.”

Anxiety is a fairly common disorder. It’s hard not to be so anxious about everything when they’re constantly overstimulated from the time they wake up until they go to sleep. Because of that, Ningning would often be caught chewing on her lips or biting her nails until they bled, in hopes of calming herself off from her overwhelming mind. During better days, her unnies used to tease her nervous mouth— she just had to have something to occupy herself with, in order to calm down.

Fortunately, her therapist had helped her find better alternatives to her harmful tendencies. With time, Ningning started to feel better and less anxious in her daily life. So she decided to discharge herself from her sessions.

It was obviously a dumb decision. Not that she would ever admit it, much less in front of her leader, who’s already so worried about all of them.

Although Karina doesn’t judge her. She never does, for a fact. The leader has seen Ningning in her darkest moments, helped her through panic attacks, bathed her drunk self, and sang her to sleep so many times the maknae couldn’t even count. They’ve laughed, cried, and gone through nearly everything together. Karina knows Ning’s issues, likes, dislikes, and preferences more than Ning does so herself. She knows what the maknae wants— or better, what Ningning needs.

There wasn’t anything she could possibly hide from her bandmate, leader, and most loyal friend.

“My poor baby.” Karina pouted, as if the mere thought of Ningning being uncomfortable was enough to leave her twice as upset. “You’re so stressed, aren’t you? Those months have been tough, for sure. Don’t worry about anything now, though. Unnie’s going to take care of you.”

No other word was necessary to know the comfort Ningning needed.

With eased practice, Karina unclasps the hook of her bra, getting rid of her shirt soon after. It’s hard not to stare at her bare torso; Aespa’s leader is perfect in every way, especially with her pristine skin and her big, perky breasts, begging to be touched, adored. Her gentle hands guide Ningning’s mouth to her nipple, smiling faintly at the maknae’s eagerness.

It’s a routine they’ve done a few times, before, so both of their moves are precise and forward rather than awkward or uncertain, even.

Ningning’s worried, troublesome thoughts vanish within seconds, and her content hums send a shiver straight to Karina’s core. Although the feeling is promptly ignored, so she can focus on the needy, whiny girl on her lap. It’s time to take care of her baby girl, only.

Drool leaks from the maknae’s mouth, desperate as always to have her leader’s big, juicy tits all to herself. Ningning’s own clit pulsates as she suckles on Karina’s breasts, tracing circles around her areola with her tongue before gently nibbling on her nipple.

“That’s it, baby girl. Take as much time as you need.” Karina reassures the maknae, running her pointy nails through Ning’s scalp in a gentle caress. “I’m always here to take care of you.”

Even though Ningning knows there’s no need to be exasperated, a part of her can never help it. Not when Karina uses that soothing tone, the one reserved for the times when the youngest is feeling the most vulnerable, craving attention. It melts her completely; Ningning’s panties are soaked as she attempts to get Karina’s entire breast to fit in her mouth.

How pathetic she must look: so small and vulnerable, latched onto her leader’s body, so messy the gushy sounds of her mouth surpass the TV noise. These are the times when Ningning’s reminded of how much taller and stronger than herself Karina actually is, even though the eldest rarely flexes or comments on it.

In fact, she gets rewarded for her mess with a laugh from Karina, which deepens the heat in her core. Small acts of validation have always affected the most— like the subtle glances the leader would sometimes send in her direction, when Ningning aced a difficult part of their choreography, or even small moments like the current one, with a laugh or a brush of fingers on Ning’s skin.

It’s always more enough to get her on fire.

Yizhuo loses track of time, lost in the paradise Karina offers her. At some point, the leader holds her chin and guides her mouth to her other nipple, but other than that, the maknae is content on emptying her brain’s thoughts just as she had been told. Soon enough, she’s too hot, bothered by the aching feeling in her cunt to keep suckling any longer. Ningning’s pussy is throbbing, pulsating as she rocks herself against the older girl’s lap for some relief.

While it does work— the friction between her clit and panties is much welcomed, Yizuho still wants more. So she moans, loud and clear as her fingers make their down inside the leader’s toned abdomen to announce Karina’s tits are no longer enough.

“Unnie…” She whimpers, looking at Karina through her lashes. She knows how Karina likes her the most, and there’s nothing more she likes to do but please her leader. “Unnie, please. Touch.”

Ningning’s last words are rushed, as impatient as her unsettlement in between Karina’s thighs. It’s not her fault, obviously. If anything, it’s solely Karina’s, for spoiling her rotten. The maknae’s hands flutter to her arms, then to her neck, placing kisses on the corner of Karina’s mouth for what it feels like an eternity.

“Are you all messy, my love? Do you want my help, is that it?” Karina’s voice is drenched in fake nonchalance, adoring the lost gaze in her maknae’s eyes.

She grabs Ningning’s hand, taking her time as she kisses Ningning’s ruined nails, unaffected by the dry blood beneath their skin from how much they’re picked on.

There’s only one thing Karina likes to do more than giving Ningning everything she wishes: making her beg. Getting Yizhuo’s pretty knees bruised from the time spent on her knees is Jimin’s favorite activity, indulging her brattiness until all that’s left are pretty lips and obedient aura, greedy and ready to be played with like a doll. It’s an opportunity she waits eagerly for.

But Ningning had been so stressed lately… She spent so many weeks bottling up her feelings, and made sure to use her manners and address Karina with the honorifics she usually refuses to use, arguing that they’ve already gotten past the need of formal language.

Who’s Karina to deprive her of anything?

One small, shy nod from Ningning and the leader is ready to grant all her wishes.

After helping the maknae out of her pajama shorts, Karina’s knuckles brush her pussy through her panties. There’s a wet spot on her entrance, one Yizhuo closes her legs to cover after she feels Karina’s burning gaze on her pussy.

“Look at how wet you are just from sucking on my tits, Ningie.” Karina grips Ningning’s thighs, preventing the maknae’s to do so as she murmurs, enamored with the sight of her beautiful girl. “I guess you must really like them. Do you, baby?”

Ningning nods with enthusiasm this time, rocking against the girl’s fingers in hopes of being touched.

Still, her answer doesn’t satisfy her unnie enough. Pushing Yizhuo’s panties aside, Karina slaps her pussy twice before gathering some slick and circling the maknae’s clit, shushing her whines with a quick kiss.

“I’d like an answer, Ning.” Karina’s too soft on her. Even with the subtle reprimand, the leader doesn’t stop touching her cunt.

Doesn’t stop building up the familiar knot in her lower abdomen, the one who makes Ningning so driven by lust she can’t even see past the little black dots that adorn her vision.

Ning’s answer comes in heavy pants, and she’s encouraged to rock her bare pussy against Karina’s hand, this time. “Yes! Yes, I love it unnie. Your tits are the best, I love to suck on them. I’d do it all the time if you’d let me— ah!”

Karina adds a finger to Ningning’s soaked entrance, loving the way she’s so responsive to her touches. The action sends joints through Ningning’s body, making her grasp loudly as Karina enters her deeply.

“More fingers, unnie.” She tests the waters, biting her lips to keep herself from smiling when Karina raises her eyebrows in response. “Please?”

Yizhuo’s good manners are rewarded with two of Karina’s fingers. They slide in easily, thrusting in and out with swift motions on her soaked slit. The sudden invasion erupts a burning sensation that mixes up deliciously with pleasure, so good it’s addicting.

“That’s my sweet girl.” Karina praises, using her free hand to grab and pinch Ningning’s nipples beneath her tank top. “Always so good for unnie. You’re perfect in everything you do, Ningie. Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now. So sexy…”

Yizhuo is absolutely sure she’s going to explode. Karina’s words, along with her fingers and the wet kisses she places the maknae’s shoulders are more than enough to send her to the edge. She feels her orgasm coming up embarrassingly fast, her inner walls tensing up to prepare for the overbearing feeling.

Her leader feels her clench too, and smiles even more.

“You can cum anytime you want, sweet girl.” Karina tells her, using her thumb to play with the maknae’s clit just how she knows Ningning likes it.

The effect is immediate: with a high cry, Ningning orgasms, holding onto Karina as her legs tremble furiously throughout her orgasm. She loves the sensation: the heat of her body feeling tingly all over, working its way down through her lower abdomen until she’s left panting, lightheaded from pleasure.

“No more, unnie.” She whines when the leader’s fingers doesn’t stop moving inside her. When her attempts of leaving Karina’s lap are unsuccessful, Ningning resumes to grabbing her bandmate’s wrist. “’M too sensitive. No more.”

Karina laughs, giving in to Ningning’s wishes as the maknae buries her face onto her neck once again. “Okay, okay. No more.” She runs her hands up and down the maknae’s back, soothing her until she’s calm again. “You were so good for me, Ning. Truly unnie’s sweet girl.”

Although she can’t see Yizhuo’s face, Karina is positive her bandmate’s face is all red, flushed with embarrassment as if she weren’t cumming all over her fingers moments ago.

“Thank you, unnie.” Ningning murmurs, kissing Karina’s cheek as she leaves her lap this time. Karina merely shakes her head, grabbing the maknae’s chin as she places a chaste, gentle kiss on her lips instead.

What an honor it was, to be the one to make Ningning cum all over. Karina adored her maknae, and she’d gladly do anything to make sure Ningning was happy and well.

“You do know I’m here for everything, right? Please don’t shut yourself off for any of us, Ningie. We just want to help you.”

She’s worried about her, naturally. Ningning knows that no matter what happens, her bandmates will always view her as the awkward, shy trainee they met years ago.

They don’t need to worry, though. With them by her side, Ningning feels strong enough to go overcome all of her demons and difficulties.

“I know, ‘Rina.” Is what she tells her unnie, instead. After they get their clothes back on, Ningning clings onto her again, opening one of the snacks as Karina turns up the TV’s volume. “I love you. Thank you for being here, always.”

Karina hugs her with full strength, laughing when Ningning complains about the lack of air. “I love you too, baby. You’re unnie’s sweet girl, ok? I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Love island’s drama soon catches their attention, and they spend hours lost on the reality show, in a warm bubble. Ningning doesn’t even recall the anxiousness she felt earlier, and another feeling takes place in her chest as she realizes how lucky she is to have someone to take care of her.

Love.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 1

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.

"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."

At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.

Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?

You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.

Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"

"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"

"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.

"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.

"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."

You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?

His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.

You may be projecting.

Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.

Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.

The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”

This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.

You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”

He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.

The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.

You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”

You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.

You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.

It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.

You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.

“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”

Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.

You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.

You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.

You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.

Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”

“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.

“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”

You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”

“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”

“Stow her somewhere safe.”

“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”

“Copy.”

When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.

You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.

And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”

Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.

And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.

“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”

“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”

“Why are you in Switzerland?”

“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”

“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.

“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”

“You are wearing a skull on your face.”

“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”

What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”

His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”

A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”

[strawberrystepmom]

bakugou x f!reader. part 2 of a mini series called by heart. part 1 can be found here. cw: mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content, weddings. | word count: 1.7k, reading time: ~10 minutes

The welcome dinner went off without a hitch. The bride and groom sat next to each other, glowing and in love and sneaking glances the entire evening. Several other bridal party members and assorted early arrivals joined the soon to be newlyweds, yourself, and a very frosty Katsuki. You pushed bangs belonging to a very drunk Shinsou Hitoshi off of his face to help him see and sent him off to the elevator safely. That call a member of the bridal party very nearly made to her ex while she was kind of drunk and missing him? Thwarted thanks to the communal pep talk she was given before you took her up to her room.

There will always be small dramas whenever the entirety of your group of friends is in one room, usually ones that everyone communally knows about. The issue is that nobody knows about what happened between you and Katsuki so the tension seems kind of out of nowhere.

“You were like all over him the last time, what happened?” Ashido asked you with a sigh while you waved her off and opted to remove the heat from yourself by asking her about her relationship status. 

If she’s noticed you know it’s going to become an unavoidable issue if the two of you cannot talk it out. The need to just get past it influenced your decision to invite him into the hotel bar with you to start with, as bad of an idea as it’s proving to be. Public is probably not the best venue to have a personal conversation but you know he doesn’t want you in his room and you definitely don’t want him back in yours and this bar is just intimate enough it’s unlikely anyone will overhear unless they’re trying very hard. 

“Are you going to actually talk or are we going to sit here and watch each other drink all night?”

Despite yourself, you laugh at his annoyance. It’s funny that he thinks he has the right to be at all when he’s the one who created this shitstorm to begin with. 

“If anyone should start us off, it should be you. You’re the one who left.”

Groaning, he opens his mouth to speak. You stop him, putting your hand out, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to make the first move despite the pit it creates in your gut.

“I never thought you were that type of person. Every other man, of course because that’s just how men behave. You, though?”

With a head shake, you lift your glass and tilt until the rim is almost fully touching your mouth to truly pull every last bit of vodka from the bottom of it. 

You won’t let him see how much what you’ve perceived as his rejection has affected you. It’s the mantra you’ve been repeating since boarding your flight this morning even though you did cry on the way to the airport, silently and alone.

It’s stupid to cry or be upset at all but it could be that a bit of you hoped that he saw you as special and still does to this day. Unfortunately him coming as close as he’s ever come to fucking you and subsequently running pretty much convinced you the opposite is true. So you’ve cried and asked your friend who is set to be a beautiful bride in two days what she thinks and she’s told you that you need to be the one to talk to him about it and you’ve been stubborn and she’s been irritated and now you’re here, using sheer will to keep yourself from crying and poorly attempting to lap up severely watered down vodka to make up for the courage you naturally lack.

Sliding your glass onto the bar, you place your elbow atop the counter as well and rest your chin against your balled fist. 

“Not you, Katsuki. And I guess it could really be that I never knew you at all so feel free to tell me I’ve always been wrong at any time – it just kind of feels like shit to uh, get played by the one guy you hope won’t do it.”

Averting your eyes, you keep them toward the back of the bar. You really don’t want to look at him right now, aware of what that pitiful look on his face that he keeps trying to hide with a grimace will do if you look at it for too long. You aren’t world class when it comes to being a boundary enforcer and it would take very, very, very little for him to get back into your good graces. 

Something like a tiny, little, so minute and small you can barely picture it…

“I’m sorry.”

Exhaling loudly through your nose when he says the very small words you’ve been hoping to hear, you now are left considering how to accept them gracefully. It would be a lie to tell him you haven’t been aching and lying is something you aren’t in the business of doing very often so you don’t want to let him off the hook that easily. 

You open your mouth to speak and he stops you this time, raising his free hand while he cradles his half drained glass in the other.

“This makes no sense and I’m not sure how to say it but I feel like I forget how to act when you’re around.”

Tilting your head to the side curiously, you look at his glass and then back at him but he only harrumphs at your insinuation. 

“I’m not drunk right now, this is barely even a drink to begin with,” he swings his crystal glass around with a frown. “Every time we’re together I feel like someone else. You keep me up all night talking and I never tell you to stop or that I don’t care because for some inexplicable reason, I do give a shit even if this is the only time we see each other. And my god you do this fucking thing…”

He trails off, setting his glass down on the bar beside yours to try and contort his face into the best version of yours that he can. There’s something uniquely hilarious about seeing such a stoic man forcefully widen his eyes, looking around the mostly empty bar coquettishly and blinking. Pressing your palm over your mouth to stifle a cackle, you shake your head and he throws his hands up and leans in, the tip of his nose shockingly close to yours while his expression falls back into its natural state.

“I don’t speak eye contact. What the hell does that mean? What do you want from me?”

Your head remains tilted but the lightness in your expression falls, your eyebrows furrowing.

“I mean, what I want from you is friendship? Someone to talk to and hang out with outside of these shitty, hectic wedding weekends?” Scoffing, you desperately look around the bar to locate the tender and order another drink. “God, is that really what you wanted to say to make this whole thing right?”

The man sighs, defeatedly.

“No and if you’d listen to me you would know it.”

All you do is shrug, blink wildly, and lean in his direction to emphasize how ridiculous you find what he’s saying. 

”Okay awesome, well I am listening and now all I know is that I make you late for bedtime when we hang out. That still doesn’t tell me why you left that night.” 

Pinned by his inability to say the find even a slightly right thing to say, he recalls why he didn’t want to have this conversation with you at all and originally planned to dodge and avoid as much as possible over the course of the weekend. Granted he has had over a year to come up with a decent lie and hasn’t. He could also pretend to be the asshole everyone seems to think he is and just brush it off. Something keeps him from veering into flippant behavior and it’s an urge to protect your feelings as a means to say thank you for the good memories even if the two of you do not make a single one to add to the scrapbook during your best friends’ shared wedding. 

Finally convinced that you’ve intimidated him enough, you lean back against the chair and cast a glance that screams ‘your move’ so loudly the childish version of him that still lingers in the back of his head on occasion wants to scream it right back. Blessedly, he’s more in control of himself and chooses instead to say what has been heavy on his heart since the early morning hours he left your side knowing he’d be hurting someone he cares about in the process.

“Because if I stayed we would have probably ended up going all the way and I didn’t want us to do that while we were drunk, alright?” Setting his glass down with a thud, he rises from the barstool. “You can believe me or not if you want to but I'm done talking about it. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Have a good night.”

You watch his every move despite remaining practically stuck to your chair and inside your feelings, his thick fingers digging into his pocket for his wallet to slap a few paper bills down onto the bar in an effort to continue behaving like the man you used to assume he is. 

None of what he said explains why he jumped to the nuclear option of leaving yet there would be no reason for him to lie about something so significant when you’re already pissed off. Even your instincts are telling you that this is the honesty you’ve been hoping to eventually receive. 

“Katsuki.” He looks up from his hands when you say his name, eyebrows raised and mouth drawn into an unamused line. “I believe you.”

He nods though it doesn’t seem like he necessarily believes you and turns to exit, leaving you with little besides more questions.

For instance: has he thought about what it would be like to have sex with you sober before? 

It’s the most insufferably shallow thing to take away from what was said, barebones as it was and truthfully it’s less about what his words were and more about the uncharacteristically sheepish and hurried manner in which he spoke them - like he was making a confession and not an apology.

Shaking your head, you rise just as he did and toss your own cash down on the bar. At bare minimum you can say that the mutual axe sharpening appears to have ceased for now.

[lovelytsunoda]

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

[cod-sins]

Heyyyy. I loved ur konig hcs! 💕. Can we get hcs for Ghost/ konig ab what they would do if they’re civilian s/o was getting stalked while they were away and they call them asking what to do ? xx

.ೃ࿐ Format: Hcs

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed. Established relationship.

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Word Count: 1.2k

[A/N: Hey anon thank you so much for requesting this, it was so much fun to write I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. :) Also Ghost is more of a full fic than a headcanon sorrey got carried away. 😋]

𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻

Ghost was stuck in a safehouse somewhere in the deserts of Mexico waiting for his rescue team to come pick him up. He was absolutely done with this mission, having to carry around 30 extra pounds of military gear in the scorching heat just to eliminate a "single fucking target" was no joke. He'd much rather be at home in his flat, throwing something on the telly [lol] and laying around with you. He smiles at that thought.

He checked his watch. 1435 read the time. '3 more hours.' He thought. Three more hours until he arrived back at the base. Three more hours until he makes it to the airport. He glanced up at the ceiling his mind filled with all the things you were gonna say to him, how you would fuss over his injuries and insist on him relaxing in the bath while you cooked for him. He plays out these thoughts in his head until his mind becomes hazy and he begins to fall asleep.

Ghost is a fairly light sleeper so the first time you called he answered immediately.

"Hello?" "Ghost! I'm so sorry I know you said not to call you unless it's an emergency but there's this guy who has been following me around all day and I- "Y/N slow down I can't understand you." He said calmly despite his heart starting to beat faster.

You took a deep breath and resumed. "I was at the grocery store earlier and I noticed this guy who kept following me around. Every single aisle I went down he was there, even after I left the store he kept following me. I don't know what to do he's still waiting for me to leave this building." Your voice trembled as you spoke.

Ghost could feel his blood beginning to boil as you talked. The mere thought of someone trying to harass you or even worse hurt you drove him crazy. He should be there protecting you not waiting around.

"Alright, I want you to listen to me carefully and do exactly as I tell you, do you understand? Do not hang up this phone Y/N. First I want you to tell me where he is and what he's doin'."

You told Ghost the man's location--he was outside across the street pretending to be occupied by a street vendor. He kept glancing at the shop you were hiding in.

"Right listen carefully, I want you to make your way to the closest bank the one we always use. Stay in populated areas where people can see you do not take any shortcuts. Don't go down any alleyways don't give him the opportunity to have you alone. Once you make it to the bank talk to the security guard and tell 'em what's happening. Make sure you point the guy out."

You agree and with a shaky hand you grab your bags and make your way outside. The stalker takes notice of this and begins his pursuit. You hastily make your way to the bank--updating Ghost with every step. As soon as you make it inside you talk to the security guard and tell him your situation. He immediately calls the police which scares the man off while they escort you back home in a police car.

As soon as this whole ordeal is over Ghost forces you to take self-defense classes. He would also like it if you knew how to work a gun but if you weren't comfortable with that he'd opt for getting a dog instead. (Plus he's quite fond of the animal.) He just wants you to be safe he couldn't stand the thought of losing you. ):

𝑲ö𝒏𝒊𝒈

All you wanted to do was go home and fall asleep in you and König's California-sized bed. You had a long grueling day; dealing with shitty customers who thought they were entitled to everything and awful coworkers who barely did their job forcing you to work overtime and pick up on their slack. Whilst working you accidentally burnt yourself cleaning the coffee machine because your boss had distracted you to ask if you could close shop tonight.

You were so busy walking home that you didn't notice the man behind you following your every step. It was only when you tripped and dropped your bag--all your items spiling out that you realized that he was there. He quickly stepped in helping you pick up your items despite your initial rejection.

He was very adamant about helping you even though it was clear you were uncomfortable with the situation. Quickly thanking him you began speeding up your walk while fumbling around for your phone. You glanced back and noticed he was still following you. The sun had begun to set and the remaining light was slowly fading away. Your car was in the shop so you were forced to walk home at night.

You glanced back once more and saw that he was still behind you even though you had taken multiple turns and crossed several different streets. Starting to feel anxious you dialed your boyfriend. It took him a few moments to answer which felt like years to you.

"Hallo?" A tired voice spoke from the phone. The sound of his voice instantly filled you with comfort almost making you forget about the situation you were in. "König I'm sorry to wake you I need your help, there's some dude who won't stop following me. I don't wanna go home yet because I don't want him to know where we live. It's starting to get dark out and my phone is gonna die." You said sounding exasperated. The sound of shuffling could be heard over the phone as you continued down the street.

"Where are you now?" His demeanor had completely changed sounding more gruff and serious. You stammered out your location telling him specific landmarks. A theater, a bar, and a park across the street. König instructs you to head to the bar first, 'get lost in the crowd' he told you. 'Then go out the back way and head to the park.' You do as you're told hovering down while you squeeze between heavily intoxicated people. You make it outside the bar then hurry across the street.

It's now completely dark out and without any light it's hard to see inside the park. "I want you to go hide in the park behind the bushes where he can't see. Stay low turn off your phone light and be quiet." König continues to instruct you as you find a hiding spot. You watch as the man leaves the bar, he walks a few feet down then he turns around still not able to find you.

Once he realizes you're completely gone he curses and stomps his foot then marches off into the distance. You cringe at the thought of what he would do to you if he found you. König brings you back to reality asking if you're alright, you tell him your status and he makes you stay on the phone until you've made it back home.

Similar to Ghost, König would also want you to learn self-defense maneuvers, he'd teach you himself (because he's so big he makes a good example) and he'd equip you with your own knife. König would also give you pepper spray and a whistle and a tactical flashlight. You'd have to stop him at the flashlight or else he'd have you lugging around military gear like Ghost.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Inbox: OPEN

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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[mylovesstuffs]

100 Reasons Why I Love Seungcheol ! (a.k.a. S.Coups, Choi Leader, Carat Nation’s Dad)

1. The way he manages 12 chaotic kids (men) like a pro. Where’s his Parent of the Year award?

2. When he yells at them but immediately softens like a marshmallow.

3. His laugh can cure seasonal depression.

4. A visual.

5. His habit of acting like the maknae when he’s the eldest.

6. Petty Seungcheol is peak comedy.

7. When he tries to act cool, but the members clown him anyway.

8. His relationship with aegyo.

9. The way he thinks he’s subtle when being dramatic.

10. His iconic “Say the name!”

11. When he stands in the center like he owns the stage. (Because he does.)

12. His “I’m SEVENTEEN’s leader” energy.

13. That time he pulled off blone hair like a literal Greek god.

14. The way he stares into the camera during performances.

15. How he can make a single word sound like a life-changing declaration.

16. The emotional damage from his tongue plays.

17. His airport looks could rival a runway.

18. His tiny, proud smiles when the members achieve something. You can see the love in his eyes.

19. The fact that he knows exactly how to bias-wreck us.

20. How he’s effortlessly charismatic without even trying.

21. The way he protects the members like they’re his own brothers.

22. When he cried during their Daesang speech—who didn’t cry with him?

23. That time he comforted Jeonghan when he was sick, and our hearts collectively melted.

24. How he takes care of Carats.

25. The soft way he says, “Thank you, Carats.” (Excuse me while I sob.)

26. When he got emotional during their first win.

27. His little “fighting!” moments to cheer everyone up.

28. The way his presence alone calms the chaos in the group (most of the time).

29. The way he values teamwork over individual success.

30. His deep, gravelly voice that feels like a warm hug.

31. Knowing he’s been through tough times but came out stronger.

32. When he cried feeling unworthy of being the leader—Cheol, we’ll fight anyone who made you feel like that.

33. Seeing him push through injuries just to be with SEVENTEEN and Carats.

34. His constant worry about whether he’s doing enough.

35. That one hiatus he took, which made us miss him like crazy but as long as he's okay.

36. Knowing he carries so much responsibility on his shoulders but never complains.

37. How he always thinks of the members’ happiness before his own.

38. His bittersweet smiles during emotional moments—why must you hurt us like this?

39. The way he supports his members during hard times.

40. He cried more over Woozi's hard work than their first win.

41. His leadership is unmatched—period.

42. He’s the glue that keeps SEVENTEEN together.

43. His vocals are criminally underrated.

44. His stage presence is absolute legend behavior.

45. How he hypes up the members like their #1 fan.

46. The way he makes sure every member gets their moment to shine.

47. He’s a friend, brother, and protector.

48. His rap go hard.

49. The way he’s always looking out for the younger members.

50. He gives off main character energy without overshadowing anyone.

51. His pout—it’s a lethal weapon.

52. The way he drinks water like he’s in a CF.

53. When he flips his hair mid-dance. Yes, it’s a reason.

54. His Jigeumbuteo. Iconic.

55. His obsession with Shinchan—same, honestly.

56. The way he claps when he’s laughing too hard.

57. His habit of clinging. Mood.

58. That one episode of Going Seventeen where he was scared giggling and wrapping arms with Shua just because he's scared lol.

59. How he randomly lifts the members like they weigh nothing (especially Hao).

60. When he plays rock-paper-scissors like it’s a serious sport.

61. Seungcheol is the reason I now find men with leadership skills attractive.

62. He’s personally responsible for ruining my bias list every other week.

63. The amount of time I’ve spent analyzing his fancams is embarrassing.

64. His “leader line” moments with RM and Bang Chan.

65. How he’s secretly a softie who loves hugs.

66. He lives rent-free in my brain, and I’m not charging him.

67. The way I feel personally attacked by his selfies.

68. How he can bias-wreck me with a single smirk.

69. The way he hypes up other members on stage like a proud dad.

70. Why does he make me emotional over a simple “fighting!”?

71. He’s a role model.

72. The way he shows that strength can be soft and kind.

73. How he’s grown with SEVENTEEN from boys to men.

74. His love for Carats—it’s so genuine it hurts.

75. He’s proof that hard work pays off.

76. The way he balances being goofy and responsible.

77. His dedication to his craft—it’s inspiring.

78. How he takes pride in SEVENTEEN’s achievements without being boastful.

79. The fact that he’s never forgotten where he came from.

80. Knowing he truly cares about SEVENTEEN’s legacy.

81. His dimples.

82. The way he flips between being a charismatic idol on stage and a complete goofball off stage.

83. When he said, “I’m SEVENTEEN’s dad,” and it’s both funny and true.

84. How he radiates warmth, even through a screen.

85. His goofy side that he shows when he’s comfortable.

86. The way he makes everyone feel like they belong.

87. His deep, thoughtful words during interviews.

88. How he remembers even the smallest details about the members.

89. The way he leads with both his heart and his head.

90. He’s the definition of dependable.

91. He’s a leader who listens, not just commands.

92. His honesty.

93. The way he reminds us that it’s okay to take breaks.

94. He’s proof that vulnerability is strength.

95. How he brings out the best in everyone around him.

96. His endless love for music and performing.

97. The way he’s stayed humble despite SEVENTEEN’s success.

98. Knowing he’ll always have SEVENTEEN and Carats’ backs.

99. He’s family.

100. Because, honestly, there’s no one else like Choi Seungcheol.

[shotmrmiller]

Happy trails, John.

A/N: I've been meaning to write the captain my captain but he's my holy grail—look but not touch even though I'd beg him to let me make him lonches at 4 am. Also, I watch Die Hard every Christmas because it IS a Christmas movie, argue with your demons. In response to @glitterypirateduck's prompt thing which inspired to me to write something cute and civilized.

“Just once, I’d like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fucking Christmas tree, a little turkey. But no. It’s always ‘Die Hard’.”

“John, love. You’re being overdramatic. It’s just the holidays with my parents.” 

You rolled your eyes as you stuffed your clothes into the luggage bag, preparing for the trip.

“I know, love, but I wanted to spend a quiet Christmas with my wife— but no, the in-laws have to call with their ‘Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…’ ", he said with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You snicker and say, “I promise we’ll leave as soon as it’s polite.” 

“Sure, sure, I go out and keep the world safe just so when I can get a little reprieve, it’s to not spend it alone with my wife. I’m feeling a little fuckin’ underappreciated.”

You closed the zipper on your bag and went over to the bathroom where John was grumbling his displeasure. Looping your arms around his waist, cheek to his shoulder blade you say, “It’s just Christmas, hun. We’ll have New Year's all to ourselves and we can even have the boys over to celebrate. I’ll even tell you what I got you for Christmas.”

That seems to distract him a bit, as he turns his head a tad with a curious tilt.

“I bought you a Lagavulin 16-year aged single malt scotch.”

His eyes warm with appreciation and he lets out a resigned sigh.

“Right, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, you turn to look at the time. 

“Jesus Christ, John! We’re gonna need a miracle to get to the airport on time!”

You’re hastily grabbing your bags, yanking them off the bed and you see John on the phone.

“John! Get your bag—”

Suddenly, there are tires screeching outside on the driveway. John walks past you with his bag and picks up yours as well, before jerking his head at you towards the front door. 

“You wanted a miracle. I give you— The TaskForce 141”, John says, tossing the bags in the trunk of a truck that has Ghost, Johnny, and Gaz in it.

You don’t even care to question why they’re here— you just hop in the back seat immediately and buckle up.

John’s foot is barely inside the truck when it’s speeding off, tires screeching on the pavement. The entire drive has you almost nauseous with the jerky turns and harsh brakes. At a particularly abrasive step of the gas that has your neck jerking back towards the headrest of the seat, you turn towards John with a white-knuckle grip on the driver and passenger seat— you ask “Who’s driving this car? Stevie Wonder?!”

Johnny, sweet Johnny turns with a confused furrow on his brow and says, “Whad’ya mean, lass? It’s just L.T.” 

You’re at the airport in no time with the no-question illegal speed Ghost drove at, and you’re stumbling out of the vehicle with shaky legs. At least you made it.

Gaz grabs the bags from the trunk and places them on the floor but you’ve already run off to check in before it’s too late. John thanks Ghost for the help and after Johnny is rolling his window down— “I heard you’re going to America. To California, specifically.”

John grunts in annoyance at remembering the trip, and he sees Johnny grin cheekily at him before he says, “Yippy-ki-yay, motherfucker!”