#honestly nicer than expected
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This is tumblr, yeah, where I can say anything into the void, yeah?
#late night thots#I just arrived at my hostel in Barcelona#honestly nicer than expected#still kinda scared and don’t trust anything or anyone#anyways yeah#I kinda started a telenovela drama in Fuengirola#basically#I flew out with my mate to see a guy we knew#and he was really cute and we got on well etc etc#anyways I shagged someone this morn#really fit PT#like reeeeally fit and Spanish ofc so I was… u know#anyways#since he knew that he has gone completely off me even tho he’s not my bf and he didn’t#ermm#I think I#got lost writing that and forgot where I was
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do you think about frank differently now after meeting him
dude absolutely before i met frank i was like genuinely soo scared of him
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Next set of AF attacks!!! Really loved drawing all of these characters 💕💕
Rosaline and Estella - Carrsu ( @spenc3r-r0se )
Amanita Toadstool - darkurgetrash ( @darkurgetrash )
Twig Greyhammer - SamaraJethwa ( @samarajethwa )
Creiddylad - dizzypunch ( @wildbasil )
#af2024#emi art#this is the first roundup post where Everyone is actually on Tumblr haha#honestly the formatting on this post wound up a lot nicer than expected. thanks tumblr???
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I made it to America, apparently needing to know geography would've been helpful
#summer camp tag#travel tag#ace is a mess#i cant even tell how long ive been awake with timezones now#they kept asking where i was going and i didnt know which bit they wanted#there were like 3 different answers and i didnt know which was the relevant one 😭😅#shoulda been able to rule out state but thats just the bit thats most easy for me to remember#my flight was actually quicker than scheduled to be but took forever to take off and thats the bit i hate most so i kept psyching myself out#but honestly the flight itself? nicer than i was expecting waaay more food than i anticipated so im happy#now just waiting for my connecting flight in 2 hours but i made it stateside and through immigration without fcking it#i did almost cry after all the security stuff though i was stressing
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waiting to go into the cinema to see wicked, my mum saw an ad for conclave and told me her friend watched it and didn't like it bc it was "just a lot of old white man navel gazing". I said "no fucking shit. isn't that the Vatican's Next Top Pope movie? what was she expecting? they're PRIESTS"
#fuck off lou#my post#conclave#like sorry. i could probably have been nicer. but come the fuck on#ofc it was a lot of old white man navel gazing. its the catholic church#i honestly fully expect that from such a movie. for that to surprise someone is confusing af#what did you think you were going to see?#im sure there is a lot more substance to this film than just that. i have many friends who have seen and loved it#i have zero interest myself but i trust my council of internet perverts more than a middle aged british woman#who is friends with my mother#in other news wicked slapped my balls clean off
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accidentally took a fairly objective step away from myself today and went. oh shit. i’m like REALLY hard on myself aren’t i?
#i’m so hard on myself that it’s maybe single handledly causing at least 80% of my problems#and the crowd goes…. well yeah no shit#and like i knew/know that im hard on myself#but it’s just like. honestly am so convinced i deserve it that most of the time i don’t even think im being hard enough on myself#but then i’ll finally vocalize one of my thoughts out loud in front of someone and they’re like dude What the fuck are u good??#and i’m left sitting there like 🫥#i literally got a grade back on a final today that was not only higher than i expected#but it meant that i passed a class id convinced myself i was gonna fail#and the first and only real thing i could feel was so much guilt bc i didn’t think i deserve that grade#(still don’t but eh)#but it’s like bro you passed a class unexpectedly#got proof that your prof clearly doesn’t think you’re doing as bad as you are#or at least has empathy for the fact that it’s clearly been a bad semester#and now you also get to take that worry off the list and STILL#my brain finds a way to ensure i can still only feel bad about it#it’s like i feel like i deserve bad things so much that ill find any way to twist things around to make me feel bad#i really go ‘is nobody gonna torture the living hell out of this white boy?’ and then DONT wait for an answer#ugh anyway#i need to go to therapy#silas speaks#anyway my tip for the day is maybe try being nicer to yourself and giving yourself more grace and understanding#at the very least try to be more aware of how mean your thoughts get bc sometimes u get so so used to it u don’t realize ur doing it#or how bad it’s getting#mental health#mental illness#self hate
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Lol. Kids' biases in how they perceive their teachers is so strong. I was subbing a fifth grade class that was very rowdy this afternoon. Like, when I was walking there I ran into the principal in the hallway who had just talked to the entire class, and I was warned by the sub who was there in the morning (who apparently you can usually hear a pin drop when she's there, that's how good her classroom management is) that literally no student had been capable of staying on task so far. And that's on top of it being a Friday, in JUNE, where they're already disengaged, and there's some "fifth grade dance" they were all talking about tonight... yeah. Which is to say I had to be very forthright in laying down the line for them several times today.
But at the end of the day, this one boy, who in particular I kept having to talk to about staying on task, came up to me and was like "Can you be our new para in the classroom? You're nice"
I'm like. Lol. I'm not "nice" I'm just a young lady that you don't feel intimidated by.
#it's a double-edged sword bc kids never expect me to be 'mean' bc of my age and gender combo#but they'll also try and walk all over me because of it#a few weeks ago i was in a class so rowdy i had to send a kid down to the office before even like 10 AM#and another kid later in the day#and i STILL couldn't get them to listen to me#it's like thet straight up FORGET i have authority over them sometimes#no matter how many times they make me use it#i of course don't like to use disciplinary actions but there's often literally no choice#but there was another para in that classroom who is there every day so that was helpful#she knew the routine for them to follow#that's helpful when it's time for things like reading buddies and dismissal#i honestly hate to be alone in the classroom wo another adult i feel so incapable#tales from diana#edit: btw for clarification what i mean by im not '#'nice' is that im not nicer than any other teacher in the building#im not unfair to them either obviously but they don't judge me as someone out to get them#yeah
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On the Roof || S.JY
stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!
The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day.
Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.
Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist.
But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…
Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win.
The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.
“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”
Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either.
You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.
The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.
His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick.
His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.
Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.
At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward.
It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.
He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.
A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.
“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.
For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.
“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”
A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop.
“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.
“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again.
“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.”
“Invitation declined.”
He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him.
Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.
Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.
The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.
So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.
Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.
The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air.
It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space.
He takes up too much space.
Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept.
“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.
You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.
The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.
“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”
“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.
He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”
The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking.
Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.
So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.
Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”
He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.
As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.
So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.
But there is one thing that you are dying to know.
“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.
But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”
“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.
Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.
His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.
“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion
Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around.
“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.
“As in?”
“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.
Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”
“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”
“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.
He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.
Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.
He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.
But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.
“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.
“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”
“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.
Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”
He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown.
But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.
Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”
There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.
“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.
Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”
“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.
Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”
Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.
But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.
“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.”
As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.
Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.
His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”
“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”
“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”
“I-”
“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.
“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”
Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”
And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.
As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.
_____
The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday.
You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.
It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.
Fuck.
Jaeyun.
The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.
Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger.
"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"
As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.
Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.
“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.
“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.
Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”
“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”
“But-”
“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.
You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”
If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.
Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.
As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.
Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy.
“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”
“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him.
Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?”
A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom.
You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?”
With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.
As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.
A messy home is a home loved.
The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.
Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.
Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.
Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.
Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice.
You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.
“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”
“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”
As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock.
You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?
Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.
“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through.
He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family.
The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders.
If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.
At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.
“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”
Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.
Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard.
His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.
His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”
“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”
“Really, no, it’s okay-”
This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.
It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.
So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.
With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this.
You need him…
Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago.
Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.”
Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers.
Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”
“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some - that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier - you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA.
Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment.
Either one, you let it slide.
So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”
“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably.
You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right.
Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine.
“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it.
A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”
“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”
“Pretty good together you mean?”
Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”
He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.
Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues.
“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.
“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought.
Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose.
Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more.
It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”
You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.
The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.
“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.
“Shut up, I’m just excited.”
“I can see that, yeah.”
It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.
Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.
He’s different.
Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts.
His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.
And devoured it will be.
Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.
“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”
“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.
“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most.
The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.
“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.
“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep.
Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”
“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.
“Well, I better get to it then right?”
And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow.
The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it.
He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities.
“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…”
His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.
He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.
He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.
“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”
And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen - and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning.
His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.
Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate.
“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway.
Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”
A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it.
But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite.
Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another.
“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white.
But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?
“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.
Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”
“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”
For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance.
Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”
Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.
The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.
“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”
Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy.
You never want him to leave.
“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.
Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock.
While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”
“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace.
“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.
“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”
You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you.
Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.
“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I��m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”
Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible.
This is heaven.
“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”
And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”
You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.
“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes.
���If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”
Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige.
So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull.
“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”
Baby
His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”
“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”
And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn.
“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.
After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.
It feels so right.
And you’re not the only one who believes so.
Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity.
Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”
“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.
But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes.
It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.
And he needs to find out.
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#aj writes#jake x reader#jaeyun smut#jaeyun x reader#enha x reader#enhypen x reader
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The good thing is that the drop date for the new ffxiv patch is tuesday, which is my birthday, I mean how cool is that?!
The bad thing is, I can't use that day to play it because family insists on my presence (it's a holiday in Germany, so it's the only birthday we always celebrate on the exact day instead of the weekend after) and I don't like it?! XD
#random stuff#silly#ffxiv#but honestly I'd rather skip it for real#because I can't have more than 1-2 people max over if 2 at all since my apartment is seriously small and#lacks comfortable sitting and eating and preparing and storage space for such an occasion#so I have to go to my dad's house#where I have to climb the stairs I got rid of by moving orz#also there's some tension between my siblings currently and I'd like to skip that too#also I have to bring my dogs and they always potentially find things to eat there that they shouldn't eat so I constantly have to watch the#which is also draining#not to mention my brother chokes on food more often than I care (lol he got it from our mother) and it triggers my emetophobia hardcore#getting slightly anxious just thinking about it tbh#personally I don't think it's worth the risk of the health aftermaths#so yeah I'm not expecting to have the greatest day ever and playing ffxiv sounds like the nicer and safer way to spend that day#but I think dad would appreciate my presence so what can I do#^^;
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can you stay the night? - CHARLES LECLERC
pairing : charles leclerc x bestfriend!reader
summary : you and charles had always been comfortable with each other, comfortable enough to cuddle, go out on "platonic" dates, and maybe comfortable enough to leave a toothbrush at his place
warnings/notes : swearing, y/n is kinda dense, charles is a simp, sexual innuendos, romantic stuff that they think as platonic, suggestive-ish (??) scene (no actual smut)
word count : 14.2k
song : la vie en rose - édith piaf
a/n : happy 600!!! no angst this time around :p (this fic is a bit long because ik @nepobbylver is gonna love this HAHAHAH)
masterlist
May 26, 2024 - 5:12 PM
Y/n settled against Charles, his soft blond dachshund snuggled comfortably between them as they cuddled on the couch. She ran her fingers through the dog's fur, enjoying the simple moment of comfort in his presence. Charles wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer as they continued to relax in the quiet peace.
As they continued to snuggle together, a thought occurred to Y/n. She shifted slightly, looking up at Charles with a curious expression. "You know," she began, "I have to ask. Is this really how you want to celebrate your home race win?"
Y/n paused for a moment, her fingers still idly stroking the dachshund's soft fur. "I mean, don't get me wrong, this is nice, but I was just thinking...don't you want to go out to dinner or something? You've won your home race, after all."
Charles chuckled softly, drawing her closer. "Honestly, I just wanted to spend time with you," he replied, his voice low and warm. "But if you want to go out, we can do that too."
A small smile curled Y/n's lips. "And leave this little guy all alone?" she teased, looking down at the dachshund. The dog lifted its head, as if sensing they were talking about him, and wagged its tail lazily.
Y/n couldn't help but laugh, reaching over to give Leo's head an affectionate pat. "Sorry, buddy," she said, her tone playful. "Looks like it's nap time for you. Go back to sleep."
The dachshund yawned widely, as if in response to her words, before settling back against her and closing his eyes, content to ignore them again.
Charles chuckled, watching the interaction between Y/n and Leo. "Looks like he's already got it figured out," he said, his arm still around her. "A relaxing night in might actually be the perfect way to celebrate after all."
Y/n's smile faded slightly as she looked back up at Charles. "I know, but it just feels like… you should be celebrating more, you know?" she said, her voice softly. "You just won your home race. Shouldn't you be doing something bigger than this?"
Charles sighed, a mix of resignation and affection in his voice. "Alright, alright," he said, giving in to her insistence. "If you want me to celebrate that bad, we'll go out tomorrow. We can even bring Leo along."
Y/n's face lit up with satisfied surprise. She hadn't expected him to give in so easily, but she couldn't help feeling relieved. "Really? You don't mind going out tomorrow?" she asked, almost too eagerly.
He chuckled again, amused by her eagerness. "Yeah, really," he reassured her, his arm still around her. "We can have a nicer celebration tomorrow, with dinner and whatever else you want."
She held up her hand in a prayer gesture, looking upwards as if addressing some higher power. "Thank you, oh benevolent lord," she said dramatically. "For providing me with free food tomorrow, I am eternally grateful!"
Charles rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You're ridiculous," he said, a hint of affection in his voice. "You're getting one meal, and you act like it's a gift from the heavens."
Y/n nodded in agreement, her exaggerated gratitude fading a bit. "I mean, you're not wrong," she said, a tinge of resignation in her voice. "Monaco is not exactly wallet-friendly, especially when it comes to food. I'll take what I can get, honestly."
Charles chuckled, his hand absentmindedly stroking along the dachshund's back. "Well, don't worry," he assured her. "I'll make sure you get a proper meal tomorrow. No more scavenging for leftovers for you."
Y/n's smile waned as she gave him a playful glare. "Now you make me sound like some orphan kid begging for scraps during the Victorian era," she retorted, a hint of mock indignation in her voice.
Charles laughed heartily at her comparison. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone both amused and affectionate. "I didn't mean it like that at all. You know I'd do anything to make sure you were never hungry, Victorian era or modern day."
Y/n's mock frown softened into a genuine smile, her heart fluttering at his sweet words. "I know," she admitted, leaning against him. "But I couldn't resist the chance to give you a hard time about it."
Charles chuckled, his grip around her tightening slightly. "Of course you did," he teased. "You never miss an opportunity to give me a hard time, do you?"
Y/n burst into a dorky laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hahah, hard," she echoed, the innuendo in her tone not lost on either of them.
Charles grinned, lifting his hand to gently cover her mouth. "Maybe you should just go to sleep," he teased, pretending to sound serious. "Save the innuendos for later."
Her eyes widened, a laugh muffled against his hand. She playfully wriggled against his grip, feigning protest but not really wanting him to let go.
He chuckled, enjoyed the way she struggled against him, the playful back-and-forth between them. "Careful," he warned, his tone filled with mock severity. "Keep that up, and I might have to keep you quiet another way."
Y/n's eyes widened with mock horror, her expression over the top dramatic as she stared up at him. "Oh, lord," she gasped, in a faux-dramatic voice, "You're not going to gag me, are you?"
Charles' smile widened at her reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Keep up the smart mouth, and you just might find that out," he threatened, his voice low and teasing.
She scrunched up her nose in exaggerated disgust. "Ew, Charlie, ew" she says, her tone overly dramatic. She tried to look irritated, but the playful gleam in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.
Charles laughed at her reaction, shaking his head at her dramatic display. "Oh, come on," he teased, clearly enjoying the banter. "Don't act like you wouldn't secretly love it."
Y/n shot him a mock glare, refusing to admit that he might be right. "Oh, please," she said, her tone defiant. "As if I'd enjoyed being gagged. I'm too much of a free spirit for that."
He chuckled again, his hand still placed over her mouth "Oh, you're a free spirit, alright," he agreed, enjoying the banter. "A free spirit that could probably use a little lesson in restraint."
Y/n laughed, gently maneuvering Leo off her before standing up. "Get off me, you muppet!" she playfully mimicked, her voice filled with exaggerated indignation. She stepped away from the couch, a small grin still on her face.
Charles couldn't help but chuckle at her playful exit. "Yeah, yeah," he replied, his tone amused. "Go ahead and leave, but keep in mind, I now know one surefire way to shut that smart mouth of yours."
Y/n paused for a moment, her eyebrows raising slightly. She tried to maintain her mock annoyance, but the gleam in her eyes revealed her intrigue. "Okay, and just how do you plan to do that, smart guy?"
Charles leaned back against the couch, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You really want to know?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive.
She shook her head, feigning nonchalance. "Nevermind," she said, her tone dismissive. "I need to use the bathroom anyway."
He gave her a knowing smirk as she made her escape. "Sure, go ahead," he replied, not letting her get away without a snarky comment. "But don't think I won't remember this later."
She rolled her eyes as she walked away, pretending to ignore his snarky comment. "Oh, I'm sure you will," she called back over her shoulder, disappearing down the hall towards the bathroom.
Y/n had just finished washing her hands when she suddenly opened the bathroom door. "Hey, Charlie?" she called out, her tone casual.
Charles, who was still lounging on the couch with Leo, lifted his head in response to her call. "Yeah?" he replied, curious to know what she wanted.
Y/n stepped out of the bathroom, her hands still slightly damp from washing. "Hey, so," she began, a small smile on her face. "Are we gonna order food, or do you think maybe I should make something?"
He sat up a bit on the couch, mulling over the options. "Let's order in," he decided, a lazy grin on his face. "No need to cook when we can get food delivered, right?"
She raised her eyebrows at him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "So, you're paying, right?" she asked, her tone half sarcastic, and half-serious.
Charles chuckled at her question, knowing she expected him to pay (as per usual). "Yeah, yeah," he agreed, not really bothered by it. "I'll pay for it, don't worry your pretty little head about it."
Y/n settled back on the couch again, cradling the sleeping dachshund in her arms. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft as she cuddled with the dog. She leaned back against Charles, her hand automatically finding its way to Leo's warm, furry body.
He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer. He watched her fondly, enjoying the peaceful moment. "You know, most people would take advantage of my kindness and order the most expensive thing on the menu," he teased lightly.
She chuckled, running her fingers through Leo's soft fur. "Oh, I won't go too crazy," she promised, her voice filled with pretend innocence. "Just a small order of caviar and a glass of champagne, nothing too extravagant."
Charles laughed heartily at her answer. "Right, not too extravagant," he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "A small side order of caviar, she says. You're lucky I'm feeling generous tonight."
Y/n smiled at his sarcastic response, enjoying their banter. "Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?" she replied, her tone lighthearted. "A little bit of luxury every now and then never hurt anyone."
Charles chuckled, shaking his head in mock resignation. "Oh, believe me, I'm all for spoiling you," he assured her, his arm tightening around her. "Just try not to bankrupt me in the process, alright?"
She laughed, snuggling against him, her fingers still idly scratching Leo's head. "I don't think I could bankrupt you if I tried," she teased. "You're a rich F! driver in Monaco, after all. I doubt a little caviar is going to break your bank."
Charles chuckled, his hand lazily running along her arm. "Hey, don't underestimate your powers of persuasion," he warned, his tone playful. "You could convince me to buy you the moon if you tried, I'm sure."
Y/n laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Oh, the caviar was just a joke," she clarified, her tone lighthearted. "I mean, who in their right mind actually enjoys that salty, fishy stuff? It's like eating fancy seawater, if you ask me."
Charles chuckled, enjoying her commentary. "Yeah, that's a fair assessment," he agreed, nodding his head. "I'm pretty sure the only reason people eat it is because it's expensive and somehow considered posh."
She nodded in agreement, a smirk on her face. "Exactly," she said, her tone amused. "it's like a status symbol for the rich and fancy. The more you spend on it, the fancier you are."
Y/n shook her head, her smirk turning into a thoughtful expression. "Alright, enough talk about weird expensive food," she said. "What do you want to order? Pizza, Chinese, something else?"
Charles thought for a moment, considering the options. "Hmm, I'm up for anything," he replied, his hand idly tracing patterns on her arm. "What are you craving, mon ange?
She thought for a moment, her gaze wandering towards the kitchen. "I kind of feel like pizza," she admitted, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "But then again, I could go for some old-fashioned comfort food like mac and cheese."
He nodded in agreement, his hand still trailing up and down her arm. "Pizza sounds good," Charles said, his voice casual. "And honestly, mac and cheese isn't a bad idea either. We could get both if you want."
Y/n looked up at him, a hopeful expression on her face. "Really?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "You'd let me get both pizza and mac and cheese?"
Charles chuckled at her eager expression, unable to resist her excitement. "Sure, why not?" he replied, his tone indulgent. "We can have a bit of everything. No need to limit ourselves, right? Especially when I'm paying for it."
Y/n's eyes lit up, her smile widening at his agreement. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I promise I won't get too carried away. We can get pizza and mac and cheese, and maybe a side of mozzarella sticks for good measure."
Charles laughed heartily at her enthusiasm, loving the way she got excited over food. "Mozzarella sticks?" he repeated, his tone amused. "Now you're pushing it. But, since you asked so nicely, I suppose we can get some mozzarella sticks as well."
Y/n grinned, her excitement growing with each added food item. "You're the best!" she declared, snuggling closer to him. "I swear, you give in too easily. All I have to do is bat my eyelashes and say 'please' and you're wrapped around my finger."
He chuckled, his arm encircling her waist. "I can't help it," he admitted, his tone fond. "You're too damn cute when you get excited about food. How could I resist giving you what you want?"
She smiled slyly, a hint of gloating in her expression. "See? I knew it," she teased, poking him in the side. "You're a softie, deep down. All I have to do is ask nicely and you'll cave."
Charles snorted, feigning offense. "Softie?" he retorted, his tone lighthearted. "I prefer the term 'indulgent' when it comes to you. I just like making you happy, that's all."
Y/n's smirk widened, her hand coming up to poke his chest playfully. "Indulgent, softie, whatever you want to call it," she teased, her voice filled with affection, "the point is, you can't say no to me. And you know what? I love it."
Charles laughed, shaking his head at her teasing. "Yeah, yeah, you win," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I admit it, I can't say no to you. Especially when you look at me all cute and expectantly, begging for pizza and mac and cheese."
Y/n nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. "And mozzarella sticks," she added, her tone firm. "Don't forget the mozzarella sticks. I can't have pizza and mac and cheese without some fried cheesy goodness on the side, can I?"
She thought for a moment before turning to Charles. "And can we get some soda?" she asked, her voice hopeful. "You know, to wash down all this unhealthy food we're about to consume."
Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Of course, we can get some soda too," he agreed, chuckling at her request. "We need something other than water to balance out all this greasy, delicious goodness."
Y/n smiled victoriously, clearly satisfied with his willingness to indulge her. "Yay, soda!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with childish excitement. "You know, I could get used to this whole 'getting whatever I want when I ask nicely' thing."
Charles chuckled, his hand giving her a playful tap on the head. "Oh, don't get used to it," he warned, his tone jokingly stern. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret spoiling you so much."
She laughed, leaning into his touch. "Oh, come on," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know you love spoiling me. Admit it, you secretly enjoy it when I bat my eyelashes and ask for things."
Charles didn't bother denying her accusations; he knew she was right. He simply chuckled, choosing to indulge her playful banter instead. "You know me so well, don't you?" he said, his voice filled with affectionate amusement.
Y/n grinned, her smile widening as he acknowledged her observation. "I have a sixth sense for these things," she teased, her tone filled with mock self-importance. "I know when you're secretly enjoying spoiling me, even if you won't admit it."
May 26, 2024 - 8:12 PM
Charles groaned, his hand resting on his stomach. "Oh, I'm so full," he lamented, his voice tinged with mock despair. "I shouldn't have had that fourth slice of pizza, but it was just so good."
Y/n sat next to him, her own hand on her stomach as well. "I know what you mean," she agreed, her voice slightly strained. "I swear I can feel my stomach expanding. But you know what? It was worth every single bite."
She laughed heartily, her stomach feeling more and more stuffed. "You're right," she agreed, her voice tinged with reluctance. "We should probably clean up before all this grease and sauce dries up."
Charles groaned again, his hand still resting on his stomach. "Ugh, I don't wanna move," he protested, his voice filled with exaggerated laziness. "Can't we just take a little food coma nap first?"
She chuckled at his melodramatic reaction, shaking her head. "As much as I'd love to join you in your food coma, we should probably clean up first," she reasoned, her tone slightly authoritative. "Otherwise, we'll regret it later when everything's dried up and stuck to the plates."
Y/n had just stood up, plates in hand, when Charles gently pulled her back down next to him. She looked at him with a mix of surprise and confusion, her hand hovering in the air where the plate had been a moment ago.
Charles placed the plates back onto the table and pulled Y/n closer to him, his head coming to rest on her shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, his body relaxed against hers, seeking comfort in her proximity.
Y/n didn't resist his pull, instead leaning into his touch. She reached up, her hand gently caressing his hair, her fingers running through the messy strands. "You know, you're just using me as a pillow now," she teased, her voice soft and affectionate.
He chuckled, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of her fingers in his hair. "Can you blame me?" he asked, his tone lighthearted. "You're so comfortable, and I can't be bothered to move right now."
Y/n sighed contently, her fingers continuing to play with his hair. "You're just being lazy," she retorted, her tone fond. "But I guess I can be your cozy pillow for a little while longer."
Charles smiled, his body relaxing even more as her fingers continued their soothing caress. "Good," he mumbled, nuzzling his head further into her shoulder. "I could stay like this forever."
She chuckled as Leo padded over to them, his furry little body weaving between their legs. "Hey, little guy," she greeted the dachshund, reaching down to pet him. "Did you enjoy your food too?"
Leo, his belly full and content, simply looked up at Y/n with his innocent little eyes. He wagged his tail happily, clearly content after his own feast.
Charles laughed, his head still resting on Y/n's shoulder. "Looks like Leo was just as successful at stuffing his face as we were," he commented. "He's got that satisfied, slightly bloated look for sure."
Y/n laughed, her hand still running through Charles' hair. "You can say that again," she agreed, her tone light. "I don't think I've ever seen a puppy eat that much. He's like a little vacuum cleaner."
She scooped up Leo, the dog happily settling on Charles' lap. Then she turned to Charles, her tone more serious. "Actually, I should really get going and start cleaning up all this mess," she said, gesturing to the collection of plates and takeout containers on the coffee table.
Charles groaned again, his hand still resting on his stomach. "But I'm so comfortable here," he protested, his voice laced with mock protest. "Can't it wait just a little longer?"
Y/n chuckled at his protest, her tone firm but affectionate. "No, no, you relax," she insisted, standing up again. "You did pay for the food, after all. I'll take care of cleaning up."
Charles watched her as she stood up, a pout on his face. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone reluctant. "I feel bad just sitting here while you do all the work."
Y/n smiled at his concern, her tone gentle yet firm. "It's alright, Charlie," she reassured him. "I can handle this. You just stay put and digest all that food we ate."
Charles relented, his pout turning into a resigned smile. "You're too nice to me," he admitted, his hand rubbing his stomach again. "But alright, I'll stay here and try not to fall asleep."
May 26, 2024 - 8:30 PM
Y/n wiped her hands on the towel, and a satisfied smile appeared on her face. The dishes were clean, the leftover food was packed away, and the coffee table looked presentable again. "There, all done," she announced, her voice slightly tired but content.
She heard a soft, gentle snoring sound as she walked closer to the couch. She chuckled softly, her eyes falling upon Charles. He was fast asleep, his head lolling back against the couch, his mouth slightly open.
Y/n couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight. Leo was sleeping peacefully, his tiny body nestled in Charles' lap. His little paws were tucked beneath him, and his tail was twitching slightly as he dreamt.
Charles, on the other hand, was in a deep sleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. His chest rose and fell with each slow, steady breath he took. It was a sweet, innocent sight to behold.
Y/n settled down on the floor beside Charles, her elbow resting on the cushion of the couch, her face close to his. She looked at him, her eyes soft and content. The soft snoring filled the room, creating a soothing background noise.
She smiled, her eyes still on Charles. She knew all too well how exhausting race days could be for him. The physical and mental energy he expended was immense. It was no wonder he was sleeping so soundly right now.
Charles stirring in his sleep caught Y/n off guard. Suddenly, his hand moved and accidentally smacked Y/n in the face. It wasn't a hard hit, but it was enough to make her slightly recoil.
"Ouch!" Y/n exclaimed, her hand instinctively going to her face where Charles' hand had made contact. She rubbed her cheek softly, a mix of surprise and confusion on her face. "Charlie, wake up. You hit me in the damn face."
Charles roused from his sleep, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He looked blearily at Y/n, still slightly groggy. "What?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "What happened?"
Y/n chuckled, her hand still on her face. "You accidentally hit me in the face while you were asleep," she explained, her tone light-hearted. "Looks like you were dreaming about a boxing match or something."
He blinked, his mind slowly catching up to what Y/n was saying. "I did what?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"
She laughed gently, shaking her head to reassure him. "It's fine, I'm okay," she chuckled, her hand still massaging her cheek. "You didn't hit me that hard. But maybe you should watch your hands next time you're dreaming about boxing."
Charles stretched his arms, a tired yawn escaping his lips. "Yeah, I guess I should head to bed," he agreed, his voice groggy. "I'm feeling pretty beat after that food coma."
He rubbed his eyes, then turned to Y/n. "Oh, and make sure you use my bathroom to freshen up," he reminded her, his voice still tinged with sleepiness. "You can use whatever you need in there."
Y/n looked up at Charles, a quizzical expression on her face. "Why can't I use the guest bathroom?" she asked, her tone slightly puzzled.
Charles sighed, rubbing his eyes again. "Right, I forgot to tell you," he mumbled, his voice tired but apologetic. "The guest bathroom's pipes need fixing. Can't use that one. Gotta use mine tonight."
She nodded in understanding, her eyes meeting his. "Alright, no problem," she said, a small smile on her face. "I'll use yours then. I don't want to be without a shower tonight."
He returned her smile, his eyes filled with exhaustion but also affection. "Thanks for understanding," he murmured. "Goodnight, and enjoy my bathroom."
Y/n watched him go, her eyes lingering on his sleepy form as he headed down the hallway to his bedroom. She smiled to herself, feeling a mixture of affection and amusement at Charles' tired but sweet gesture.
May 26, 2024 - 11:38 PM
Y/n sat on the bed, scrolling through her phone in the guest bedroom. She glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed the time was 11:38 pm. Realizing it was getting late, she decided it was time to get ready for bed. The thought of a relaxing, warm bath sounded perfect right then.
She gathered her small toiletry bag, a fresh towel, and a change of clothes. She quietly walked out of the guest bedroom and headed down the hallway to Charles' bedroom. Upon reaching his room, she gently turned the doorknob, not wanting to wake him if he was still asleep.
Charles' voice came from inside the room, his tone groggy but awake. "You can come in," he mumbled, his words slightly muffled by his pillow. "I'm awake."
Y/n smiled slightly, grateful that he was awake and ready for her. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, her eyes immediately adjusting to the dim lighting in the room.
Charles was lying in his bed, propped up against the pillows, his hair was tousled and his eyes slightly heavy with sleep. Despite his sleepy appearance, he was watching her as she entered. "You're taking a bath?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Y/n nodded, holding up her toiletry bag and towel. "Yeah, thought it would help me relax before bed," she replied, her tone soft. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom for a bit?"
Charles nodded, a sleepy smile on his lips. "Sure, take your time," he reassured her, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep. "You can use the bathroom as long as you need."
She smiled in appreciation, and his kind words made her feel more comfortable. "Thanks," she said, her tone grateful. "I won't be too long. I just want to unwind a little before bed."
Y/n walked into the bathroom, her toiletry bag clutched in her hand. The soft glow of the bathroom lights illuminated the room as she entered, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
She set her things down on the counter, her mind already contemplating the warm, relaxing bath she was about to enjoy. The bathroom was neat and spacious, the fixtures and tiles gleaming in the soft light. The ambiance was quietly soothing, perfect for a late-night dip.
She turned on the faucet, allowing the water to run in the bathtub, creating a soothing, gentle sound that filled the bathroom. Steam began to rise, the room slowly filling with a warm, comforting humidity. The bathroom was now a miniature sauna, perfect for relaxing tense muscles and calming the mind.
After a few moments, the tub was filled to a comfortable level, bubbles foaming on the surface of the water. Y/n tested the water with her hand, ensuring that the temperature was just right. Then, she turned off the faucet and started to undress, her clothes being neatly folded and placed on the counter.
As Y/n stepped into the tub, the warmth of the water enveloped her. She sank into the bubbles, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips. The stress of the day, and the tiredness in her body, all seemed to melt away as she immersed herself in the soothing water. Her eyes closed, her limbs relaxed, and her mind started to unwind.
The steam curled around her, the scent of bath oil mingling with the warm, moist air. She lay back, the water lapping gently at her neck. A few moments passed, the only sound in the bathroom being the soft, gentle splashes of water. Y/n felt her thoughts drift further and further away, her body becoming more and more relaxed as she luxuriated in the tranquility of the moment.
Her mind wandered, memories, and thoughts coming and going gently like a light breeze. The rest of the world seemed distant as if nothing could disturb this blissful sanctuary. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing, and her body utterly surrendered to the comfort of the water. Time seemed to stand still, her mind floating in a contented blur.
The soothing warmth of the water and the tranquility of the room lulled Y/n into a doze, her mind and body completely relaxed. She lost track of time, her thoughts drifting further and further away until she slipped into a light sleep, the bubbles and steam gently surrounding her.
However, the peaceful moment lasted only a few short minutes. The sound of the bathroom door opening gently roused her from her doze, the sound bringing her back to reality. Y/n's eyes fluttered open, blinking away the daze as she focused on the figure in the doorframe.
The bathroom door had opened, allowing a sliver of light from the outside to fall across the tile floor. Charles stood in the doorway, a slight frown on his face. He hadn't intended to disturb her, but his need for the bathroom had grown too great to ignore.
His hair was a disheveled mess, and his eyes were still half-closed with sleep. He tried to look away, to give her some privacy, but his voice betrayed his concern. "Sorry," he muttered, his tone soft and gravelly. "Just really need to go... I didn't mean to wake you up."
Y/n stirred, pushing up from the water. The bubbles clinging to her form, she sat up in the tub, her eyes on Charles. "It's okay," she reassured him, her voice still tinged with sleep. "I dozed off for a bit. I'll get out in a minute."
Charles hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting away and back to her. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering too far down, but the sight of her in the tub was a bit distracting. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice a bit hoarse. "I... I can wait."
Y/n chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the confines of the bathroom. "No, it's fine," she reassured him, her tone light but firm. "You need to go, I can get out."
She quickly grasped her towel and wrapped it around herself, securing it at her chest. Charles turned his gaze away, respecting her modesty. He kept his back to her, giving her the privacy she needed.
The sound of her getting out of the tub made a slight splashing sound, the water shifting as she rose. She stepped out onto the bath mat, her hair slightly damp, and the towel clinging to her form.
Charles nodded, still facing away to give her some privacy. "Alright," he said, his voice still a bit gravelly, "I'll be done soon. You can wait in there and brush your teeth when I'm done."
Y/n nodded, her grip on the towel tightening slightly. "Okay," she replied, her voice soft. "I'll wait here. Take your time."
As soon as the bathroom door closed, Y/n hurried to get changed. Although the bath was relaxing, the knowledge that Charles was waiting just on the other side of the door hurried her movements. She slipped into her fresh clothes, the material cool and comfortable against her still-damp skin.
Within a few minutes, she was fully dressed, her hair still a little damp but tucked away from her face. She checked herself quickly in the mirror, making sure everything was in place before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
The silence in the room was broken only by the occasional sound of a car passing on the street outside. Y/n sat patiently, waiting for Charles to finish. Her mind began to drift, her thoughts a mixture of relaxation and anticipation.
Just as she started to feel a bit antsy, the sound of the bathroom door opening broke the silence. Charles emerged from the bathroom, his hair slightly disheveled but otherwise looking much more awake.
He smiled slightly as his eyes met hers, his expression a mix of tiredness and relief. "All done," he said, his voice still roughened by sleep. "The bathroom's all yours."
Charles leaned against the doorframe, still feeling a bit groggy, but also enjoying the sight of her moving around his bathroom. He tried not to look too closely as she bent over to reach for her toiletry bag, the sight of her in his bathroom quite domestic and slightly stirring.
He waited patiently as she rummaged through her bag, her fingers pulling out her toothbrush and toothpaste. She started to brush her teeth, the sound of the brush against her teeth and the water from the faucet filling the small space.
Charles watched her quietly, his eyes following her movements. He observed the way she moved, the way the light played across her skin, and the small sounds she made as she brushed her teeth. It was all very mundane, yet somehow strangely intimate.
The moment felt almost surreal, the quiet of the night and the intimacy of the bathroom creating a bubble of comfort and familiarity. Charles's mind was still a bit hazy with sleep, but he found himself enjoying the simple act of watching her brush her teeth in his bathroom.
Y/n continued brushing her teeth, her cheeks slightly puffed with foam. She then remembered the plan for the following day and spoke with a foamy mouth, her words slightly garbled. "Where... are we... eating... tomorrow?" she managed to ask, her toothbrush still swirling in her mouth.
Despite her toothbrush-filled mouth, the question was clear. Charles chuckled softly at the sight of her, her hair slightly messy, dressed in her pajamas, and talking with a mouth full of foam.
He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as he responded. "I was thinking we could go to that new café downtown," he suggested, his voice still rough with sleep. "I've heard they have great pastries and coffee."
Y/n nodded, the toothbrush still in her mouth. The idea of pastries and coffee sounded delightful, especially in the morning. However, the foam made her answer turn into a series of mumbled sounds, leaving Charles unsure of what she was actually saying.
Charles chuckled softly, amused by her foamy response. "I'll take that as a yes," he said light-heartedly, unable to keep a smile off his face.
She tried to respond but ended up sending a few drops of foamy toothpaste sputtering onto the sink. She quickly rinsed out her mouth, spitting the foam out. "Sorry," she sheepishly apologized, her cheeks slightly pink. "Hard to talk when my mouth is full of foam."
Charles chuckled again, the sound echoing around the small bathroom. "It's fine," he reassured her, his voice warm. "It was entertaining to watch, even if I couldn't make out half of what you were saying."
Y/n leaned against the counter, exhaustion beginning to show in her every muscle. Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a weary sigh. "I'm too tired to walk back to the guest bedroom," she mumbled, her tone weary and a bit whiny.
Charles saw her slouched form and sympathized with her fatigue. He knew it was past midnight and she'd had a long day. "You can just sleep here if you want," he suggested, his tone gentle yet practical.
Y/n perked up slightly at his suggestion. The idea of collapsing into the comfort of a bed without having to move sounded heavenly. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a tired murmur.
Charles nodded, his eyes softening at her tired state. "It's fine," he reassured her, a small smile on his lips. "I don't mind. This bed is plenty big enough for both of us."
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her cheeks slightly warm. The thought of sharing a bed with Charles was undeniably intimate, but her body's need for rest was so great, that she couldn't find the energy to protest. "Okay," she agreed, her voice barely more than a weary murmur.
She stumbled to the bed, her weary steps almost resembling a slow run. She practically collapsed onto the sheets, the soft, cool fabric feeling luxurious against her tired body. She landed on the bed with a satisfied sigh, the impact sending the sheets billowing slightly.
Y/n sank into the bed, her limbs feeling like lead. A weary groan escaped her lips as she wrapped her arms around a nearby pillow, pulling it close to her chest. The pillows felt soft and supportive, the bed molding around her form like a cozy, welcoming cocoon.
Charles watched her with an affectionate smile, amused by her eagerness to be in bed and the speed with which she had buried herself in the pillows. He moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and watching as she settled into the sheets.
He couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of her, her body half-buried under the pillows and blankets. Her eyes were closed, the exhaustion of the day evident in the way she had slumped into the soft bedding.
"Comfy?" he teased gently, his tone a mix of amusement and affection. He reached out and ruffled her hair, his fingers briefly touching her forehead.
Y/n mumbled an affirmative reply, her words barely intelligible as she mumbled into the pillows. "Mmmhmm..." was all she managed to get out, her eyes still closed, and her body snuggled deep into the bed.
Charles smiled at her sleepy reply, finding her exhaustion endearing. He continued to sit on the edge of the bed, watching as she nuzzled into the pillows, almost melting into the bedding.
"You look like you're ready to hibernate," he teased her again, his tone gentle but amused. He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair once more, his touch tender but affectionate.
Charles smiled at her lack of reply, amused by her quick transition into sleep. He had barely finished speaking when he saw her body relax further into the bed, her breath evening out into the slow rhythm of sleep.
He chuckled softly, realizing she had fallen asleep mid-conversation. He stood up from the edge of the bed and walked over to the light switch, flicking it off. The room fell into darkness, the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight from outside.
Charles carefully slid into the bed, trying not to disturb Y/n's sleep. Once he was settled, he moved closer to her, gently maneuvering her body so she was pressed against him. His arm curled around her, pulling her close against his chest, and he held her close, her warmth and soft breathing against his skin.
He lay there, awake, listening to her breathe, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. The soft sound of her breathing was like a lullaby, and he found himself soothed by her closeness.
Charles began to hum softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The melody was slow and soothing, the song a soft rendition of Édith Piaf's "La Vie en Rose." His voice was warm and gentle, the sound reverberating silently in the quiet room.
He continued to hum as he held Y/n close, the sound of his voice mingling with her soft breathing. The melody was a small, comforting addition to the silence, a soothing lullaby only meant for her sleeping form.
As he hummed, his eyes traced her features in the dim light. He could make out the soft curve of her nose, the gentle angle of her jawline, the fluttering of her eyelashes against her cheeks. She looked peaceful in sleep, her face relaxed and free from the lines and shadows of daytime.
His hold on her was gentle but tight, his arm wrapped firmly around her, keeping her close. The feel of her body against his was comforting, a steady reminder that she was there, safe in his arms.
Charles's voice trailed off as he finished singing the final note of "La Vie en Rose." He let the silence settle for a moment, his breath a soft sigh against her hair.
Then, he whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness, "God, if only you knew how much I love you. If only you weren't so dense." His tone was affectionate yet tinged with a hint of melancholy.
Charles continued to hold Y/n close, his eyes still on her face, even in the dim moonlight. He whispered softly to himself, his words barely a sound.
"One day," he muttered, his voice a whisper. "I'll tell you one day."
His voice was filled with a mixture of determination and uncertainty. He knew confessing wouldn't be easy, and the fear of rejection was a constant gnawing in the back of his mind. Yet, the need to tell her how he felt was growing more powerful by the day.
For now, though, he'd continue to hold her close, appreciating the quiet intimacy of the moment. He closed his eyes, listening to her steady breathing, and willed himself to sleep.
May 27, 2024 - 8:16 AM
Y/n stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open. The room was filled with the soft morning light, and for a moment she was disoriented. Then she became aware of her surroundings, the realization that she wasn't in her own bed slowly dawning on her.
She sat up, her head still fuzzy from sleep, and her eyes widened as she saw not Charles but Leo lying next to her, in the same spot Charles had been the night before.
The sight of Leo sleeping peacefully made her blink, a rush of surprise and confusion going through her heart. A million questions raced through her mind. Where was Charles? Was this a dream? But she quickly became aware that this was very real, and Leo was indeed sharing the bed with her.
Y/n's hand moved almost on its own, gently reaching out to stroke Leo's head. The soft fur felt warm under her fingers, a stark contrast to the cool sheets she had just woken up from.
Leo stirred slightly at her touch, his head nuzzling closer to her hand. He let out a soft, contented sigh, still mostly asleep.
She scooted closer to Leo on the bed, her eyes still heavy with sleep but her curiosity stirring. "Leo," she whispered, her voice soft yet a hint of worry in her tone. "Do you know where Charles went?"
Leo blinked open his eyes slowly, his intelligent gaze meeting hers. He yawned widely, showing off his little tongue before tilting his head to one side, clearly not understanding her question.
Y/n's head whipped around at the sound of a laugh, and her eyes met Charles's form standing in the doorway. A wave of relief washed over her as she saw that he was okay and had not disappeared into thin air.
"You're here," she said, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She pushed herself into a sitting position, shaking the last tendrils of sleep from her mind. "Where did you go? And why is Leo in the bed?"
Charles chuckled at her question, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. He walked over to the bed, a cup of coffee in his hand. "I went to get us both some coffee," he explained, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to where Y/n was still sitting.
"And as for Leo," he added with a smirk, "he just wanted to keep you company."
Leo had also perked up at the sound of Charles's voice, his tail thumping softly against the sheets. He let out another soft sigh before stretching out, rolling onto his back and exposing his stomach.
Charles took a sip of his coffee, his eyes watching Y/n and Leo with fond amusement. "Seems like he's quite comfortable here," he commented, his voice laced with a hint of humor.
Y/n yawned and stretched slightly, her eyes still half-focused on Leo's adorable form on the bed. Her gaze then flicked to Charles, a sleepy smile on her lips. "Well," she teased, her voice still raspy with sleep, "who wouldn't be? Your bed is huge."
Charles chuckled at her comment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I guess I have a lot of room to share," he replied, his tone lighthearted. He took another sip of his coffee, savoring the hot liquid.
"It's a good thing," he added, his tone becoming a bit more serious. "It means I have enough space for both you and Leo." He reached out, his fingers gently scratching behind Leo's ear, earning a soft, satisfied whine from the dachshund.
"See? He likes the bed," he said, his tone softening as his gaze met Y/n's again. He put down his coffee on the bedside table, his eyes studying her face. "How'd you sleep?"
Y/n took a moment to consider his question, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I slept well," she answered, her voice still a bit dazed from sleep. "Although, I admit waking up to Leo instead of you was a bit of a shocker."
Charles chuckled at her reply, his shoulders shaking slightly with the sound. "Sorry about that," he apologized, his tone slightly sheepish. "I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't expect Leo to take my place so quickly."
Leo, as if sensing they were talking about him, let out a small, tired 'woof' before rolling over onto his front, his paws sticking out adorably. He let out another sigh, his eyes half-closed in contentment.
Charles bent down and patted Leo's head gently, his smile widening at the dog's adorable display. "Looks like I've been replaced," he joked, his tone playful but laced with a hint of affection.
Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes watching the interaction between Charles and Leo. "Looks like you have," she agreed, her tone light and amused. She reached out a hand, scratching behind Leo's other ear, eliciting another soft whine of contentment from the dachshund.
She pushed the covers off, reluctantly leaving the warm, comfortable bed. With a small groan of sleepiness, she stood up, the cold hardwood floor against her bare feet.
"I'm going to go use the bathroom," she announced, her voice still hoarse from sleep. She stretched her arms over her head, yawning widely as she made her way across the room.
Charles watched her as she moved across the room, her sleepy form padding towards the bathroom. "Take your time," he said, his tone gentle. "I'll be here when you're back."
Y/n nodded, her hair slightly mussed from sleep. "I won't be long," she said, her voice still half-slurred from sleep. She pushed open the bathroom door and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Charles leaned back against the headboard, turning his attention to Leo, who was now rolling back and forth on the bed, seemingly enjoying every inch of the large expanse of sheets. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, reaching out to scratch the dog's belly gently.
Charles's hand continued to rub Leo's stomach, his eyes watching the dachshund lazily rolling around. His question hung in the air, the weight of it echoing around in his mind.
His expression softened, and he spoke softly, his voice just above a murmur, "When do I tell her?"
He hadn't expected a response from a dog, but speaking his thoughts out loud helped to somehow organize them in his mind. The sound of Y/n moving around in the bathroom filtered through the door, background noise to his contemplation.
Charles sighed, the weight of his feelings for her seeming to get heavier with each passing day. The need to tell her how he felt was becoming more urgent, the words threatening to spill out at any moment. But the fear of her rejection, the possibility of losing her friendship... it was enough to keep him holding his tongue.
As the moment passed, he shook his head slightly, forcing the thoughts away for now. Y/n would be out of the bathroom soon, and he didn't want her to see him too lost in his own thoughts.
He turned his attention back to Leo, continuing to rub the dog's stomach, the repetitive motion helping to soothe his own restless thoughts.
The sound of the bathroom door opening brought his attention back to the present. He looked up to see Y/n exit the bathroom, her hair slightly less mussed now. She walked back to the bed, her steps a bit less sleepy than before.
"Feel better?" Charles asked, his voice still a soft murmur. He watched her approach, the morning light from the window casting her figure into a soft golden glow.
Y/n nodded in reply, a small, satisfied smile on her face. "Yes, much better," she answered, her voice clearer now, having lost the sleep-induced huskiness. She collapsed back onto the bed, the soft sheets welcoming her tired form back into their embrace.
She scooped up Leo, her hands gently holding the dachshund's small body against her chest. She cradled him against her, his soft fur rubbing against her bare skin. Leo let out a soft, contented sigh, snuggling closer to her neck, his warmth and scent offering her comfort.
Y/n looked down at Leo, her fingers gently stroking the soft fur on his head. A soft, affectionate smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she whispered, "Oh, you're my little baby, aren't you?" she cooed, her tone soft and affectionate.
Leo's ears perked up at her words, his small head lifting from where it was resting at her neck. He let out a soft whine, as if in agreement.
Charles watched the interaction between Y/n and Leo, his heart skipping a beat at her use of the word 'baby'. The casualness with which she used it, the affection in her voice... it made something stir within him.
He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, a mix of fondness and subtle jealousy swirling within him.
The word 'baby' echoed in his mind. He wanted to hear her say it to him, longed to have that affectionate tone directed towards him. But he pushed the thought away quickly, not wanting to dwell too long on his own unrequited feelings.
He chuckled softly, his tone purposefully lighthearted, "Looks like Leo's got a new favorite."
Y/n looked up at Charles with a playful, mock-mean expression, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What do you mean, 'new favorite?' I've always been Leo's favorite," she declared, her voice carrying a hint of playful defensiveness.
Leo seemed to sense the playfulness in her tone. He let out a soft 'woof,' his little tail wagging fiercely as if agreeing with her statement.
She stuck out her tongue defiantly at Charles, her tone playful but laced with a hint of satisfaction. "He loves me more than you," she stated, holding up Leo as if to prove her point.
Leo seemed to know he was the center of their playful argument. He let out a soft whine, his head tilting from side to side as if unable to pick a side.
Charles feigned hurt, placing a hand over his chest in mock-shock. "Ouch," he joked, his tone light but with a hint of genuine amusement. He raised an eyebrow at Y/n, playing along with her banter.
"Traitor," he muttered jokingly to Leo, though his eyes were still on Y/n, the sparkle of humor dancing in them.
Charles leaned back against the headboard, a hand rubbing his chin in thought. "Unfortunately," he said, his tone laced with a slight hint of disappointment, "the café is closed today."
He paused for a moment, mulling over his next words before continuing, "Apparently, the owner is having his birthday party, and he's given all his employees the day off."
Y/n's expression mirrored Charles's disappointment, a small pout on her lips. "That's a shame," she replied, her voice softer, the playful banter from before replaced by a genuine hint of disappointment.
She looked down at Leo, who was now lying comfortably on her lap, his little eyes closing as if falling back asleep. "I was looking forward to their pastries," she added, her tone slightly wistful.
Charles reassured her with a small smile, his tone hopeful. "It's okay," he said, his words gentle, "We can stay here for now, and later we can go out for brunch."
He shifted slightly, turning his body to face her more directly, the morning light bathing them both in a soft, warm glow.
"Besides," he added, his tone a hint more playful, "we can have Leo all to ourselves for longer. He seems quite content right where he is." He nodded towards the dachshund, who was still lying peacefully in her lap, now fast asleep and lightly snoring.
Y/n looked down at Leo with a soft smile, her fingers gently scratching behind the dachshund's ear. "But is it normal for puppies to sleep this much?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.
Leo stirred slightly, his little nose twitching as if sensing they were talking about him, but he continued to sleep, his tiny paws moving occasionally in his dreams.
Charles nodded in confirmation, a small smile on his lips as the memories of Leo's earlier antics filled his mind. "Yup," he confirmed, his tone casual. "He had a major case of the zoomies this morning. Running laps around the living room, barking, the whole nine yards."
Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of disbelief coloring her voice. "I slept through that?" she asked, her tone laced with a mixture of shock and amusement.
Charles chuckled at her reaction, nodding. "Oh, yeah," he confirmed, his voice slightly amused, "You were out like a light."
"You were completely oblivious to all the commotion," he added, a hint of fond admiration in his voice. "Leo was running circles around the room, barking like his little heart was about to burst, and you didn't even twitch."
Y/n couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of Charles trying to wrangle a hyperactive puppy while she blissfully slept through the chaos. "I feel like I should apologize," she said between giggles, "but it's also kind of funny that I missed out on all the fun."
Charles chuckled along with her, his eyes sparkling with amusement at the memory. "It was a sight to behold," he said, his tone lighthearted. "Honestly, I didn't know what to do with him. He was like a little tornado, zooming around the room at top speed."
"I tried to get him to calm down a bit," he confessed, "but he was having way too much fun. He was chasing his own tail, running into walls, yipping and barking like he'd just discovered the meaning of life."
Y/n looked down at Leo, her initial shock replaced by a soft, affectionate smile. "Poor baby," she murmured, her voice soft and gentle. "He must be exhausted."
She gently stroked the sleeping dachshund's head, her fingers gently running through his soft, short fur.
Leo stirred slightly in his sleep, his little nose wrinkling as if in response to her touch. His eyes remained closed, but he let out a soft, contented sigh, snuggling deeper into Y/n's lap.
Y/n looked up at Charles, a soft yawn escaping her lips. "Can I go back to sleep for a bit?" she asked, her voice still a bit drowsy.
Charles smiled, nodding gently. "Of course," he replied, his tone reassuring. "You can sleep for as long as you want. Leo and I will be right here when you wake up."
Y/n's shoulders relaxed in relief, her tiredness seeming to overtake her. She let out another, wider yawn, her eyelids already starting to droop. "Thanks," she murmured, her words slightly slurred with sleep.
May 27, 2024 - 10:21 AM
He gently shakes Y/n's shoulder, drawing her from the pleasant world of dreams. "Y/n," he says softly, his voice warm and gentle. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's time to get ready."
Y/n slowly opens her eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her. She blinks a few times, her vision clearing, and meets Charles's gaze. "Already?" she mumbles, her voice still thick with sleep.
Charles nods, a small smile on his face. "Yep," he confirms. "I'm all set, and Leo's ready too."
He gestures towards Leo, who is now sitting by the bed, his little ears perked up and his tail wagging as if he understands the conversation.
Charles nods patiently, his smile still in place. "Sure," he replies, "Take your time. I'll wait for you here with Leo."
Y/n smiles in appreciation, and with a last, lingering glance at the duo, she heads into the bathroom to freshen up.
A few minutes later, Y/n poked her head out from the bathroom door, her hair still slightly damp. "Charlie," she called, her voice carrying through the open door, "Can you grab my dress for me? I left it on the bed in the guest room. I had it all ready last night before I fell asleep."
Charles looked up from where he had been playing with Leo, the dachshund now chewing on one of his shoes. "Sure thing," he replied, standing up and heading towards the guest room.
He navigated his way into the spacious guest room, the bed neat and tidy, the dress laid out meticulously on top. He picked up the dress, his eyes running over the delicate fabric and the design that Y/n had chosen.
He took a moment to appreciate the dress before walking back towards the bathroom, the dress safely in his hands. As he approached the bathroom door, he knocked gently, alerting Y/n of his arrival.
"I've got the dress," he called out, his voice soft so as not to startle her. He waited for a moment, giving her a chance to respond before proceeding.
Y/n peeps out from the bathroom door once more, a warm smile on her face. "Thank you, Charlie," she says, genuinely appreciative of his help.
Charles smiles back at her, holding the dress out for her to take. "You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle. He takes a moment to appreciate the view of her standing there in the doorway, the morning sunlight catching the wet strands of her hair and making them sparkle.
He hands her the dress, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. There's a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of Leo's soft panting and the distant hum of city life outside.
Y/n emerges from the bathroom, the soft fabric of her dress falling gently around her legs. She smooths out any wrinkles, adjusting the straps and hemlines until she is satisfied.
Looking up at Charles, she says, "All ready," her voice cheerful despite the early hour.
Charles does a slow, subtle scan of her appearance, his gaze taking in the way the dress hugs her figure and accentuates her curves. He can't help the small appreciative smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
Y/n scoops up Leo, the dachshund snuggling comfortably against her chest. She grabs her phone from the bedside table and gives Charles's hand a firm pull, practically dragging him towards the door.
"Let's go," she urges, her tone full of eagerness.
Charles chuckles at her eagerness, allowing himself to be led by Y/n, their hands still linked together, and follows her towards the door. Leo lets out a soft little bark as if cheering them on.
The three of them head out into the hallway, Charles keeping pace beside Y/n as they make their way towards the front door. The soft pat-pat of their footsteps and the occasional squeak from Leo were the only sounds in the apartment.
They reach the front door, and Charles holds it open for Y/n and Leo, a gentlemanly gesture that seems almost second nature to him. "After you," he says, his tone light but filled with affectionate warmth.
Y/n grins at his old-fashioned chivalry, passing through the open doorway with Leo in her arms. "Why, thank you," she says, her words tinged with affectionate amusement.
Charles follows, letting go of the door as it closes behind him. He falls into step beside her, their shoulders nearly touching. "No problem," he replies, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a small, private smile.
She notices Charles's unwavering gaze and asks, a hint of curiosity and amusement in her voice. "What? Is there something on my face? You've been staring at me the whole way down."
Charles's smile widens, caught in the act. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck before replying, "No, no, nothing on your face. I was just watching you with Leo. You two are so cute together."
Y/n smiles, her gaze shifting down to Leo in her arms, who is oblivious to the conversation. "Oh, yeah," she says, a hint of pride in her voice, "We do make a pretty cute pair, don't we?"
He nods in agreement, his gaze shifting to both Y/n and Leo in her arms. "Absolutely," he says, his voice soft and sincere. "You and Leo are the cutest pair I've ever seen."
His eyes dart between Y/n and the dog, taking in the sight of the dachshund, so completely at ease in her arms. The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby, and he steps out, holding the door open for Y/n and Leo once more.
They step out into the lobby, the world outside the glass doors filled with the sounds of the city. Charles leads them out into the street, the sun warm and bright. As they walk, he can't help but glance at Y/n every so often, a small, fond smile playing on his lips.
The pair walk down the street, crossing intersections and passing by shops and cafes. Leo stays snuggled in Y/n's arms, his little head resting on her shoulder. Y/n and Charles walk quietly beside each other, the comfortable silence between them occasionally broken by a comment or a soft laugh.
They reach an open-air café, the outdoor seats under a shady tree filled with people enjoying their breakfast. Charles pulls out a chair for Y/n, gesturing for her to sit, his chivalry still very much in play.
"Have a seat," he says, his tone warm and gentle. "I'll go get us some breakfast menus."
Y/n smiles in appreciation, settling down on the comfortable chair with Leo still in her arms. She watches as Charles makes his way towards the counter, weaving through the tables and chairs with ease.
He reaches the counter, chatting with the employee behind it and perusing the menu on the wall. After a few moments, he returns with two breakfast menus, a smile on his face.
He hands one of the menus to Y/n and takes a seat across from her, a small gap between their chairs. He opens his own menu, his eyes scanning over the options. Leo stretches in Y/n's lap, his little arms and legs stretching out as he lets out a soft yawn.
Y/n grins at the sight, her fingers absently running through Leo's soft fur. She looks at her own menu, her eyes darting over the various breakfast items. "So many choices," she muses, her tone a mix of amusement and slight indecision.
Charles glances up from his own menu, a lopsided smile on his face. "Tell me about it," he agrees, a small huff of laughter escaping him. "I don't know if I want pancakes, eggs, or just a straight-up bowl of bacon."
Y/n laughs, imagining the sight of a plate stacked high with bacon. "A bowl of bacon does sound tempting," she replies, her tone jokingly serious. "But it might not be the best choice for breakfast."
Charles laughs along with her, the sound filling the space between them. "True," he concedes. "I don't think I want to start the day with a heart attack waiting to happen."
He looks back down at the menu, his expression thoughtful. "How about waffles?" he suggests, the word coming out slowly as if he's mulling over the idea.
Y/n considers the suggestion for a moment, her lips curving into a small, approving smile. "Waffles sound good," she agrees, nodding her head in agreement. "But only if they come with extra syrup."
Charles grins at her request, his eyes lighting up in amusement. "Extra syrup? That's non-negotiable," he clarifies, his tone still lighthearted. "Waffles without enough syrup are just sad, cold pancakes."
Y/n laughs in agreement, the sound ringing out around them. "Exactly," she says, a firm nod of her head. "Syrup is the most important part of a waffle. Without it, it's just a waste of carbs."
He wags a finger at her in a playful manner, his tone half-serious. "You know, I'm starting to think you just have a thing for sweet things. Coffee with too much sugar, syrup on everything..."
Y/n grins slyly, feigning ignorance. "Me? A sweet tooth?" she replies, her tone innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I just like my food to have actual flavor."
Charles gives her a mock-skeptical look, a small chuckle escaping him. "Oh, really now? So that time last week when we shared a cheesecake and you almost went into a sugar coma..."
She laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That was for scientific purposes only," she clarifies, her tone light and playful. "I was testing my body's tolerance to sugar. It's all in the name of science."
Charles rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, his tone equally light. "Right, because science always requires two whole slices of cheesecake to be eaten in one sitting."
Y/n raises a finger in the air, a mock-serious expression on her face. "Science demands dedication," she says, her tone bordering on solemn, though her eyes still sparkle with amusement. "It's not my fault that cheesecake is the perfect medium for testing."
Charles watches her, his expression is fond and affectionate. He's so used to her antics and quick wit that even her playful arguments are endearing to him.
"Alright," he concedes, a small, affectionate sigh leaving his lips. "You win this round, scientific genius."
Y/n grins, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "I win every round, Charlie," she retorts, her tone smug. "It's a curse, really. My powers of logic and science-based reasoning are just too much for mere mortals like yourself to handle."
Charles laughs, shaking his head in good-natured defeat. "I should've known better than to argue with a genius," he admits, his tone filled with amusement. "From now on, I'll just stick to nodding along and agreeing with everything you say. Much easier that way."
May 27, 2024 - 11:42 AM
After they're done with their breakfast, Charles pays the bill and they head out of the café, Leo snuggles comfortably in Y/n's arms. As they walk back to Charles' place, he can't help but steal small glances at Y/n and Leo, his heart swelling with affection.
Leo gives a soft yip of recognition as they approach the apartment building, and wiggles in Y/n's arms, eager to get back to the familiar surroundings.
They enter the elevator, the metal walls gleaming in the harsh artificial light. Charles stands close to Y/n, Leo's weight between them, their arms occasionally grazing against each other.
The elevator dings, signaling their arrival at Charles' floor, and they make their way to his door, Leo's little paws tapping eagerly against the plush carpeted floor.
They enter the apartment, the door closing behind them with a resounding thud. Y/n sets Leo down, and he immediately barrels off, small paws thudding against the floor as he scurries into the living room, a little ball of energy.
Charles shuts the door behind them, his eyes lingering on Y/n for a moment before looking away, a slight flush creeping up his neck.
He clears his throat, the blush on his neck deepening slightly. "So, Y/n, I was wondering... when will you be driving back to France?"
His voice wavers slightly at the mention of her leaving, his heart heavy at the thought of not having her around. But he tries to hide it, maintaining a casual tone.
Y/n glances at her watch, her expression thoughtful. "I should be leaving for France before 5PM today," she replies, her tone firm. "The roads can get busy, so I want to make sure I have plenty of time."
Charles nods, a faint feeling of dread settling in his stomach. "Right, right," he says, forcing a small smile. "Gotta beat the traffic." He tries to match her casual tone, but the tightness of his voice betrays his emotions.
Y/n senses the change in his demeanor and steps closer, her voice softer now. "Don't worry, Charlie," she says, meeting his gaze. "I'll be back before you know it. And we can FaceTime every night until then. It's not like I'm disappearing off the face of the Earth."
She gives him a reassuring grin, her own heart heavy at the thought of leaving him behind. But she knows they need to face this reality, and her determination overrides her sadness.
Charles looks at her, his expression a mix of relief and sadness. "Yeah," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're right. FaceTime will be great. We'll stay in touch. And I'll plan our next movie marathon for when you're back."
He gives her a lopsided smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Just... promise me you'll drive safe, yeah?"
Y/n smiles, a genuine warmth radiating from her eyes. "You know I will, Charlie. Promise," she assures him. "And we're definitely having a movie marathon the moment I'm back. Just keep the popcorn ready."
He nods, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You know I always have popcorn ready," he says, his voice tinged with affection. "And we might as well make a day of it. Pizza, popcorn, the whole nine yards."
Charles glances at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, the hands ticking softly, the rhythmic sound echoing in the small space. "You still have about five hours before you need to leave," he points out, his tone thoughtful.
He looks back at Y/n, his expression hopeful. "How about we watch a movie? Take our minds off the fact that you're leaving for a bit?" He offers her a small smile, the invitation genuine.
Y/n smiles, a bright sparkle lighting up her eyes. "That sounds like a great idea, Charlie!" she exclaims, a hint of excitement in her tone. "You make the popcorn. I'll pick the movie."
Charles nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. "You got it," he says, his tone light. "I'll whip up some popcorn. You get the movie set up. Just don't pick something too depressing, yeah? I don't think I can handle both of us feeling sad."
Y/n laughs, playfully rolling her eyes. "Please, I have impeccable taste in movies," she retorts, her tone laced with mock-affronted humor. "I wouldn't dream of subjecting you to a depressing film. We'll stick to feel-good, laugh-a-minute kind of stuff. We can save the melodrama for another day."
She makes her way over to the couch, the soft cushions beckoning her. She takes a seat, kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable. The sound of the grandfather clock continues, marking the passing of time, as Y/n scrolls through the movies on the TV, searching for the perfect film to suit the mood.
"Hey, Charlie!" Y/n's voice rings out across the room, her tone light and playful. "I've got two options here: 'Mamma Mia!' or 'Wild Child'. What do you feel like watching?"
Charles appears through the kitchen door, a bowl of fresh popcorn in his hands. He chuckles at her shouts, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, both sound tempting," he muses, his tone light. "But let's go for 'Mamma Mia'. Can't go wrong with some ABBA, right?"
Y/n grins, nodding excitedly. "You read my mind, Charlie. We can't pass up ABBA on our movie night. It's a crime against good taste." She taps a few buttons on her phone, queuing up 'Mamma Mia!' on their streaming service.
Charles hands her the bowl of popcorn, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting moment of contact. He settles down beside her, a comfortable distance between them, as the opening credits of 'Mamma Mia!' begin to roll. They munch on the popcorn and lose themselves in the familiar tunes and lighthearted storyline, enjoying the shared moment together.
As the movie plays on, Y/n finds herself singing along to the ABBA classics, her voice light and slightly off-key, filling the room with a contagious joy. Charles joins in too, his tone deeper and more confident, harmonizing with Y/n's vocals. They laugh at the cheesy jokes and dance along to the catchy songs, their worries momentarily forgotten in the shared fun of the musical.
May 27, 2024 - 4:22 PM
As the credits roll, and 'Hamilton' comes to a close, Y/n catches sight of the digital clock on the side table. The bright red numerals read '4:22 PM', and a sense of unease washes over her.
"Four-twenty-two?" she exclaims, a hint of panic creeping into her voice. "Damn, how did time slip away so fast? I need to get going soon."
Charles glances at the clock, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. "You're right," he nods, his tone tinged with regret. "We need to get you back on the road soon. Can't have you driving after sunset." He rises from the couch, gesturing towards the guest room. "Let's get your things ready."
In the guest room, Charles helps Y/n pack her clothes efficiently. They work together in a comfortable silence, their movements synchronized. Charles carefully folds Y/n's clothes and tucks them into her suitcase, his touch gentle and efficient.
As they work, the atmosphere in the room is tinged with a sense of nostalgia and a hint of sadness. Although they're focused on the task at hand, they're both aware of the impending separation looming over them.
Y/n's gaze occasionally meets Charles as they pack, the unspoken emotions lingering between them. Charles steals glances at her, his eyes softening at the sight of her. Y/n, too, finds herself stealing glances at him, her heart growing heavier with every item packed.
Once the suitcase is packed, Charles closes it with a gentle click, securing the zipper. He steps back, his gaze meeting Y/n's with a mixture of sadness and affection. "All set?" he asks, his voice a soft whisper as if he's reluctant to break the comfortable silence that has settled between them.
Y/n looks at him, her gaze filled with an unspoken emotion, a mix of yearning and bittersweet acceptance. "Yeah," she says softly, her words barely above a whisper. "I think so. Just one more thing to do."
Without hesitation, she closes the distance between them, enveloping Charles in a tight hug. Charles wraps his arms around her, holding her close. The embrace feels like an unspoken promise, a silent assurance of their connection despite the physical separation that awaits them soon.
They stay like that for a few moments, and the world around them seems to fade away. For those brief seconds, time stands still, and they allow themselves to savor the warmth and solace of each other's presence. Eventually, Y/n pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting Charles's in a silent understanding. It's time for her to leave.
"I should get going," she says, her voice laced with a mix of sadness and determination. Charles nods, understanding the finality of the moment. "Alright," he whispers, his voice a tender caress against the stillness. "Drive safely, okay? And don't forget to FaceTime me tonight."
"Of course," Y/n confirms, her voice steady despite the pang of heartache. "As soon as I get settled, we'll FaceTime. You can't get rid of me that easily." A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, a bittersweet expression that echoes the emotions swirling within her.
Charles smiles, mirroring Y/n's bittersweet expression. "I wouldn't dream of it," he says softly, his fingers gently brushing a stray hair away from her face. "Until tonight, Y/n. Drive safely, and I'll be here waiting for your call."
May 27, 2024 - 5:42 PM
Y/n's car pulls into the parking lot of her apartment building in France. As she parks, a sense of familiarity washes over her, the sight of the place she calls home comforting after the long journey. But there's an emptiness, too, a void that she knows will only be filled once she's reunited with Charles.
Gathering her belongings, she steps out of the car, the familiar scent of the French countryside filling her senses. For a moment, she just stands there, soaking in the surroundings, a mix of emotions swirling within her - excitement to be home, sadness at the prospect of being away from Charles.
The sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape. Y/n takes a deep breath, the cool evening air filling her lungs, and she starts walking toward her apartment building.
As she approaches the entrance, a bittersweet pang tugs at her heart. The thought of being separated from Charles for days, maybe even weeks, is daunting, but she knows they can weather this distance.
Y/n dives into her unpacking routine, meticulously organizing her things. However, she keeps getting side-tracked; a stack of books needing proper arrangement, a pile of photos requiring categorization, or a collection of trinkets demanding specific display spots.
As a result, she doesn't notice how time ticks away as she turns her simple unpacking task into a full apartment makeover.
By the time she checked the clock, 4 hours had passed. Her apartment looks spick and span, but she's only unpacked about half of her luggage. She lets out a laugh; it seems unpacking and cleaning were just covered for an impromptu interior design overhaul.
As Y/n finishes up the last of her unpacking, a sudden realization hits her. Her toiletry bag, a staple for any extended stay, is nowhere to be found. She recalls leaving it behind in Monaco. Frustration and disbelief flit across her face, the inconvenience of the situation sinking in.
Y/n stands in her spotless bathroom, torn between two unappealing options: going a night without brushing her teeth or making a late-night trip to the store for a new toothbrush. The thought of sacrificing oral hygiene isn't all that appealing, but neither is the idea of stepping out in the brisk evening air to buy new tooth-cleaning supplies.
Just as Y/n contemplates skipping her evening teeth-cleaning session, a sharp pang of longing for Charles hits out of nowhere. It catches her off guard, the realization of being separated from him sinking in once again. The empty toothbrush holder on the bathroom counter seems to echo the emptiness she feels without his presence
Suddenly, the truth hits Y/n with the force of a freight train. The feeling of having left something behind wasn't about a toothbrush at all; it was the poignant realization of leaving Charles behind in Monaco. Their separation weighs heavily on her heart, and in that moment, she misses his presence more than ever.
Y/n finds herself gazing at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a sudden clarity dawning on her. A profound understanding washes over her as she whispers quietly to herself, "I love him."
The words hang in the air, echoing in the silent apartment. The realization brings a flood of emotions: joy, vulnerability, relief, and a sense of finally acknowledging what has been there all along. She loves Charles with a depth and intensity that leaves her breathless.
Without a second thought, Y/n hastily snatches her phone and car keys from the kitchen counter. She dashes through the darkened apartment, hastily flicking off lights and unplugging appliances as she goes.
Within minutes, she's out the door, the cool evening air enveloping her as she steps outdoors. A sense of urgency fuels her stride as she makes her way towards the parking lot, each step carrying her closer to the road that will bridge the physical distance between her and Charles.
Y/n's hands grip the steering wheel as she navigates the darkening streets, her heart beating with anticipation. The night is deep, but the city lights guide her way as she drives towards Monaco.
The prospect of seeing Charles again fuels her determination, her foot growing heavier on the pedal as she presses onward. Every mile feels like an eternity, but she knows that each one brings her closer to the moment when she'll be reunited with the one person who truly matters.
Her thoughts wander, imagining the moment when she'll see Charles. How his eyes will light up, or the warm embrace they'll share. The images fuel her determination to keep driving faster, to bridge the distance that separates them just a little bit quicker. The cityscape whizzes by, but she's resolute in her goal: to be with Charles once more.
May 27, 2024 - 11:09 PM
As Y/n stands outside Charles's door, a rush of emotions washes over her. Her heart races, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself before finally knocking on the door. The sound of her knuckles against the wood echoes in the quiet night.
Y/n braces herself, unsure of what awaits on the other side. Will Charles be surprised? Happy? Relieved? The anticipation gnaws at her, building with every passing second.
The sound of soft footsteps approaches from inside, and then the door swings open, revealing a bewildered Charles. He stares at Y/n in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and delight. "Y/n? What are you doing here?" he queries, his voice tinged with both surprise and warmth.
Y/n musters up a shaky explanation, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and slight hesitation. "I... I left my toiletry bag here," she stammers, her words tumbling out in a hurry. "I didn't realize until after I had unpacked and organized my things. And, well, here I am." She flashes a sheepish smile, trying to downplay the fact that she drove all the way back just for her toiletry bag.
Charles stands dumbfounded for a beat, his mind trying to process the situation. But then, a slow grin spreads across his face. "You drove all the way back... for your toiletry bag?" he says, a hint of amusement in his tone. Despite the unconventional reason for her visit, he can't help but find the situation charming in its absurdity.
Y/n gathers her courage and blurts out her true feelings, the words spilling forth in a rush. "I... I missed you," she confesses, her voice filled with a mixture of earnestness and vulnerability. "I know it sounds crazy, but being separated from you, even for a few hours, felt unbearable. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing."
Her words come out in a rush, her emotions spilling over. "God dammit, Charles, I love you!" She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as the words escape her lips, laying her heart bare in front of him. The vulnerability and intensity behind her confession hang in the air between them.
He doesn't waste a moment, pulling Y/n inside and pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. There's a sense of relief and longing in his touch, the realization that their separation was unbearable for both of them. Y/n clings to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, matching his fervor and intensity.
Charles pulls away just enough to meet Y/n's gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and vulnerability. His voice carries a hint of awe as he continues, "You have no idea how long I've prayed for this moment. That maybe, just maybe, you felt something for me too."
His confession hangs in the air, the sincerity in his tone washing over Y/n like a wave of emotions.
Y/n's heart swells with a rush of emotions as Charles's words sink in. The longing she had tried to deny was mirrored in his own confession.
"I prayed for this too," she admits, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and tenderness. "I didn't realize the extent of my own feelings until the moment we said goodbye. The thought of being apart... it was unbearable. And now, here you are, saying what I've been too afraid to put into words."
Charles leans in for another lingering kiss, breaking away just long enough to ask, "Can you stay the night? I don't want to be apart from you any longer. Please." His voice is filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing, silently pleading for a positive response.
Y/n smiles, her heart filled with warmth and anticipation. "Yes," she whispers, the words barely above a breath as her lips brush against his. "I'll stay the night. Nothing would make me happier than being with you, right here, right now."
He gently pulls Y/n towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers as they make their way through the apartment. Once inside, he locks the door behind them, shutting out the rest of the world.
taglist
@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore
#sera write’s#formula 1#f1#formula one#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 smut#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic
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Y'know listening the commentary gives me a bigger appreciation for some eps I liked less and thought had bad messages, but hearing Trey explain his point in a much more direct and honest way without having to act like a smug and self-rightous 10yo boy gives a completely different perspective on the subject
#butts for example#honestly these podcasts are making me see m&t in a better light#they are much more chill and nicer than expected and i really love listening to their ramblings#they could have been 2 pretty good stand-up comedies. in a worse timeline ofc#my post#stuff for me
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a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P
summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone
pairings felix catton x american!reader
warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI
chips or crisps?
“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.
england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.
one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.
“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m
you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.
“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.
“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.
he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.
you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.
just the way you liked it.
you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.
times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.
“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.
the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”
“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”
“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.
“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.
the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.
“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”
you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.
newsflash: he doesn’t.
“y/n?” he says.
“what could you want now felix?”
“talk to me, love.”
“don’t call me that.. and no.”
“you just spoke to me.”
you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.
“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.
the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.
you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”
“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”
“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”
“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.
after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”
you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”
you still don’t answer.
“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.
“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.
“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”
“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.
“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”
if only he knew how true that statement was.
you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”
“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”
you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”
you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”
after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”
“yes.”
“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”
with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.
after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”
“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.
“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.
those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.
slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”
you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.
“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.
as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”
felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”
his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.
“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”
you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”
you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.
“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.
your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.
“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”
the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.
“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”
he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.
you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.
“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”
his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”
“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.
doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.
“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.
his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“
a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”
“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.
you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”
“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”
“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,
he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.
“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.
“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”
you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s
“good. do you want to cum?”
“yes, yes please.”
“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”
“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.
“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”
“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.
“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.
his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”
this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”
at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.
he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”
he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.
the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.
“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.
you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”
you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”
slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”
felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”
smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”
“hm?”
“chips or crisps?”
#felix catton#saltburn#felix catton smut#felix catton fic#jacob elordi x reader#felix catton saltburn#felix catton fluff#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#saltburn x reader
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ODE TO THE V CARD!
description... losing virginity! taking the v card! getting laid!
warnings… honestly not many. just sex pretty vanilla
word from the writer… the gets killed is mid idk it’s not my best work but i tried ok guys
KILLERS
“aw, look at you,” his hands knead at your breasts, head dipping down to press a coy kiss to the side of your lips. “so sensitive.” you shudder at the contact, whine passing from your lips when he rocks his hips against you. “gonna make you feel good, yeah baby?” he loves you like this, so confused and needy under him, pure and vulnerable and so okay with him ruining you. his thumb hooks along the curve of your waist, tracing the outline of your bare skin under him before resting on your clit, grin widening at the garble that leaves you.
“no one’s ever touched you here, yeah?” you think, by default, this makes you his. as if that would ever be a question to begin with. “no one’s ever made you feel like this?” his finger moves— not in the small circles you’ve heard about, but up and down, pressing just hard enough without alleviating the pressure. it’s dizzying, the way his callouses shift over your bud, his breath shallow but composed.
“you want more, doll?” you nod— scared, helpless, desperate. it’s a mess— hands reaching over for lube to make the experience easier for you (though you think, honestly, you might be wet enough as is), an anxious laugh bubbling at your lips while you pull your legs back in an almost birthing position. it’s real, intimate and deep between the two of you, authentic and honest and nothing like the porn you’d watch late at night thinking about him.
and when he finally does it— when he slowly inches himself in between your folds, rubbing your clit with the tip of his dick, teasing you, right before slowly breaking at your walls, it hurts.
he doesn’t bottom out immediately. even when he’s cruel, he’s nicer than that. he takes his time filling you up, before he develops a slow rhythm that makes you squirm.
“that okay?” it’s not as sweet as you’d intend it to be, selfishness laced inside the question. you nod pathetically, hair laid out under you and eyes hazy.
“good.” then, without a second thought, he’s really fucking you. and you can’t do anything but lay there, legs loosely around his waist, and take it.
MEGUMI, GOJO, TOJI, CHOSO
GETS FUCKING KILLED
he didn’t know what to expect. maybe some flare of passion; ripping clothes off, declaring love, crying even.
he didn’t think it’d be you; down on your knees, one hand at the base of his cock, your lips suctioned on the rest with your tongue swirling over the tip. he didn’t think he’d be breathy, moaning, desperate before even trying pussy.
you don’t let him cum. you do a good enough job, pulling back with a pop, and then you give him a little lopsided grin. you trace your fingers over him, swirling up the last of the precum.
“so,” you’re standing up now, leaning over him and licking your fingers. you make a show out of it, he can’t help but wonder how insanely experienced you are compared to him. “you wanna fuck me or what?”
he won’t be too eager. he knows he’s already about to make a big fool of himself, so he can’t make an ass of him too. he nods, diligently, thoughtfully, and wonders how you’ll take him.
he expects maybe for you to ride him, but you lay on your back and rest your hands under your thighs, ready to pull them up whenever.
“you gotta learn sometime. get to it!” he’s nervous. his hands rest right next to your hips, one of them raised trying to figure out exactly how to get inside. you laugh and he feels his world crumbling.
“here,” you grab his cock, lining the tip up with your hole, hand massaging it gently as you do. “there you go, baby. you got it.”
when he starts, it’s too sloppy. his hips stutter, they can’t find a proper rhythm, but then you tell him how. you boss him, telling him how fast to go, where to angle, how to hit. it’s more of a tutoring session than sex maybe, but then he does something that makes you gasp and he’s obsessed.
“yeah, yeah, harder. no— don’t speed up, i said harder.” he listens to your every word, and the sound of your wet, and the sound of his breaths, and he can tell he’s going to cum all to quick.
“fuck, sorry. fuck! sorry!” it couldn’t have been more than five minutes, honestly. but you bring your hand to his face and pull him down to you after he cums, kissing him soft and sweet.
“lot of potential there, mister.” you swipe your thumb under his eye and he squints. oh. he guesses there was crying involved.
SUKUNA, GETO, NANAMI, YUJI
#do NOT fight with me on my character placements bc i’m right and you’re wrong#SUKUNA DONT BE FUCKING SORRY!!!#IDGAF WHAT YALL SAY#SO EAT DUST#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#choso x reader#choso smut#megumi x reader#megumi smut#yuji x reader#yuji smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#toji x reader#toji smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#gojo satoru x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader
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if you’re willing to, how about 141 reacting to you saying “no one will hear you scream”? i know they’d all play the biggest uno reverse card, especially gaz because he just has such a sweet face you wouldn’t expect it.
I am always willing to!!! anon thank you for blessing me with this. you're so right like don't threaten the military men who are masters of stealth, now that's asking for trouble...
pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x reader
warnings: um, gaz threatening you? actually, all of them threatening you bc you threaten them
a/n: see me personally I would not mess with this. and certainly not price.
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
requests open for tf141!
SEE TIKTOK HERE
—
Gaz:
It was easy to convince Kyle to come out here. In fact, he didn’t even think twice when you asked to go out on a hike. He had grabbed a light jacket, laced up his boots, and was out the door. He was an outdoorsman, after all, and any time he could spend with you was well spent. You weren’t going to hear an argument out of his pretty mouth.
It’s nicer this time of the year. Not too hot and not too cold with the leaves changing into the sunset colors. Honestly, you were glad you had come out here, even if it was because you had other intentions than some fresh air.
You were lagging behind Kyle, his hand flexing and calling for yours. You jog to grab his when you notice, swinging them as you approach a viewpoint.
You can overlook the area below you, coming up on a small cliff that showcases the changing leaves and sun. There’s a slight breeze that ruffles your hair, making the tips of your ears a little cold.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kyle breathes, taking in the view.
You nod, gazing out at the leaves tumbling in the wind. Then, with a practiced ease, you say: “No one would hear you scream out here.”
Kyle steps back from the edge, whipping around to look at you. “What?”
“What?” You ask dumbly.
“Don’t “what” me.” He points a finger at you. “I heard that shit.”
You step toward him, feeling guilty when you see his face. “Kyky-” you call.
“Nope!” He grabs something from his pocket, pointing it at you.
You put your hands on your hips, scoffing and stepping back. “You brought a taser?”
“And I’m not afraid to use it.” He continues to point the weapon at you as you take steps back. You were messing with your boyfriend, but your boyfriend was not messing with you.
“Babe, it was a joke!” You protest.
He narrows his eyes. “Oh, not so funny now, huh? No one could hear you scream.”
“Kyle!” You hiss at that, his point made.“Please put the taser away.”
“Please don’t threaten me,” he retorts, but relents and slips the taser back into his pocket.
“Why do you even have that?”
Kyle shrugs. “You never know. As you just proved.”
“Oh my god,” You said, walking back over to him tentatively. Once you’re close enough, he grabs your waist pulling you to his side. “Don’t ever say that shit again,” he whispers.
You glance at the taser in his pocket. “Lesson learned.”
Kyle smiles, kissing your cheek. “Ice cream?”
Ghost:
You take a deep breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill your lungs. It’s cold, cutting through the skin of your throat, yet at the same time it’s comforting. It’s much better than the humidity-laced air of summer at least. Where each breath you took felt like you inhaled oven air.
Simon glances over at you, cocking his head to silently ask what you were doing.
“Just taking in the air,” You said. “’s nice.”
He hums an agreement, walking along the stream you two were hiking. A few birds were chirping, leaves crunching under your boots, and the sound of water running over rocks. It’s a quiet you’re not used to from being in the military. That still doesn’t stop the idea from forming in your head.
“No one would hear you scream out here,” You muse, falling in step beside Simon. You say it casually, not looking at him. You act as if you had just asked where he wanted to get dinner tonight.
Simon, of course, is aware of everything. He stops walking, turning to you at an agonizingly slow pace. “Excuse me?”
You shake your head. “Nothing.” And continue along the trail.
He doesn’t follow you. You can tell when his footsteps aren’t echoing yours, a little slower and more steady. Instead, they fall silent on deaf ears. You can’t hear anything and the hair on the back of your neck stands up at the sudden stillness of the forest.
“Simon?” You call, turning to face him. And of course, he’s gone. You curse under your breath, spinning around to find him. You walk back to where he was, checking around the trees and the bushes. You shouldn’t threaten a lieutenant, the master of infiltration nonetheless. You peek around another tree, trying to get a view of him when a hand grabs your shoulder. You scream, throwing the hand off your shoulder and raising your fists. You come face to face with your boyfriend and drop your hands.
Simon stares at you, a deadpan look on his face with arms crossed. “What was that about no one hearing me or, should I say you scream?”
You swat at him. “It was a joke.”
“Damn right, it was. You think you could take me?” He begins walking again, offering his hand to you. He was a true gentleman even after he pulled that stunt. You really needed to learn to keep your eyes on him.
You lace your fingers together, sighing. “No.”
Simon is content with the answer, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “Let’s finish this hike without any other threats, hm, sweetheart?"
“It was a joke.”
“Mine wasn’t.”
“Simon—!”
Soap:
Johnny took convincing to go out for a walk. He was more inclined to spend his days on the couch, relaxing next to you. Not some boring “walk for fresh air.” He would argue he’d already gone on plenty of walks while deployed.
You dragged him out anyway, saying it’ll be good for him to do one without worrying about being shot at.
So here you are, on a quiet trail in your local park, pointing at the various colored leaves and their unique shapes.
“This is stupid,” Johnny said, kicking at a pinecone on the ground and sending it flying.
You roll your eyes, squeezing his hand, which was intertwined with yours in his jacket pocket. “You could humor me a bit.”
“What good would that do?”
You huff. “I actually quite like it out here.”
“‘m sure you do, love.”
You tap your chin with your free hand. An idea forming in your head to spice things up a bit. Or at least raise the stakes for your walk. “Like, no one would hear you scream out here, you know?” A mischievous grin curls on your lips as you look at Johnny with innocence.
“What?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. He knew what you said, just hadn’t quite processed the implications yet.
“I said, we can go get ice cream. As a peace offering.”
Johnny removes his hand from yours, taking a step back. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t want ice cream?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m actually tired. Thinking we should head back now.”
You jut your bottom lip out, enjoying the slight panic on his face. “Already?”
He spins on his heels. “Yep! Right now. Let’s go. Back in public. With people.” He urges, walking away from you at a brisk pace.
You laugh to yourself, jogging after him. He glances at you over his shoulder, clearly paranoid and you feel a little bad about it. His pace quickens and within seconds, he’s out of your line of sight and you sigh. Damn him.
You exit the trail, and back into the regular park, squinting your eyes to spot your boyfriend. You can’t find him anyway, which is weird because his mohawk makes him unmissable.
A hand taps your shoulder and you jump.
“Oh, relax,” Johnny said, holding out an ice cream cone for you. “We’re out of the woods now. Everyone would hear you scream here.”
You take the ice cream from him, glaring at him and his smug look as he remixes your words against you. “Not funny.”
“Now imagine how I felt. Except I wouldn’t really have a problem if people heard.”
“We’re going home.”
Johnny laughs madly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “That’s all I wanted.”
Price:
You stand at the end of your hike, overlooking the view beneath you. The cliff dips into a valley, scattered with red and orange trees, the telltale sign of the approaching cold. The sun sits high in the sky, blessing you with a little warmth as the clouds drift through the breeze.
Price stands next to you, hands on his hips like a proud dad after completing the hike. He pushes his sunglasses to sit on his forehead, taking a deep breath.
“We should do this more often,” he said.
“We should,” you agree, watching a pair of hawks circle and dive. “It’s so peaceful out here.”
“So quiet,” Price added.
You hum. “No one would hear you scream.”
You knew the risk of saying something like that to your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help it. A little challenge for him.
Price doesn’t hesitate, he takes a step back from you, putting considerable distance between the two of you. His eyes scan the trees, the valley below, the space behind you — he’s clearly checking for any threats.
You take a step toward him and he holds up his hand. “No. Empty your pockets.”
“What?” You asked with a laugh.
“You wanna say shit like that? Empty your pockets,” He said again.
You stare at him, and you can see the serious look on his face. Within the minute you had uttered that sentence, you already regretted it. Leave it to John Price to take everything so seriously. Even when it was his girlfriend who could never hurt him. You sigh, dropping your phone, wallet, keys, tissues, and everything else. You stare at him. “Happy?”
“Hands up.”
“John!”
“Not hearing you out, darling.”
You begrudgingly raise your hands as he steps towards you, patting you down and inspecting the things you’ve dropped. “It was a joke.”
“Am I laughing?” His hands come to rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly. “Believe me, darling. You wouldn’t be able to scream before I drop you.”
You spin around to face him, a shocked look on your face. He had gotten you there. Price wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you make any noise.
“It was a joke,” He mocks you, a sly grin on his face.
You purse your lips, grabbing your things off the ground. “Point made.” Price grabs the rest of your belongings, handing them to you with that sweet smile of his.
“C’mon, let’s hike back down. We can go to your favorite sandwich place.” He places a hand on your back, leading you off the cliff.
“As long as you don’t slip poison into it.”
“No promises.”
-- END --
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🏷 taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird @Bitchyzombietaco
#fun fact I get a notification when ya'll view the tiktok#I was so confused when my lock them out post blew up#I had like 100 tiktok notifications like WTF#anyway love y'all pfps LMAO#cod#call of duty#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#141 x reader#cod 141#captain john price#John price#John price x reader#Simon Riley#simon ghost riley#Simon Riley x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#johnathan price#simon Riley x you
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YOUR REAL BOYFRIEND
- you go on your first date with your “bar boyfriend”, who seems a whole lot nicer than the guy that tried to pick you up earlier. (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff <3, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 but it provides some context)
PART 1
word count: 1,686
a/n - i did not expect part 1 to do so well, omg 🥹 thank you all for the love. if i had the writing stability I would’ve turned this into a series, but there is still time for that yet lol. enjoy this fluffy part 2 <3
You sit in your small apartment anxiously. Your first text to Bob has just gone through, and in the heat of the moment, you threw your phone across your bed and smothered it with a pillow. It was a simple thing, just saying “Hey! I’m Y/N from the bar :)”, and you really have nothing to be scared of, but your breaths are uncomfortably quick in the early morning. It’s like you just took a five mile run. You pick up the book on your bedside table and flip through a few pages, failing to read a single word.
You only put down your fruitless attempt at calming yourself down when your phone gives a muffled buzz from underneath your pillow. You grab it quickly, seeing his just-saved name flash across the screen.
Bob: Hello, Y/N from the bar! I was a bit worried you weren’t going to reach out, but I’m really glad you did.
You: Of course I reached out. You’re a nice guy, I would be stupid not to.
You internally groan before hitting send. He makes your insides turn to mush just by typing on a screen. At this point, you’re scared of professing your undying love.
He is a nice guy, and a polite guy, and honestly an everything-you-could-ever-want guy. You barely spent thirty minutes with the man and you already find yourself wanting to slip a ring on his finger. He’s different, a really good kind of different.
Bob: I’m flattered.
Bob: This might be too soon, but would you want to go out sometime? I know this nice place by the beach where we could get to know each other better.
You: I’d love to!! Lmk the details and I’ll be there <3
As you fling your phone across your bed again to kick your legs, you almost feel bad for it. The man of your dreams is asking you out, and you can’t physically handle the joy that’s pouring out of you right now. You can just imagine his quiet, smooth voice talking away while his eyes light up. When you get the date plan, you eagerly type it into your calendar.
Saturday, 5:30 PM, Ocean’s Cove Seafood and Bar. It’s perfect.
You don’t know how you can get through the rest of the week with the date looming in your mind, but, somehow, you’ll have to find a way to manage.
Your management ended up being text conversations with Bob so frequently it felt like you were always checking your phone for a new message. For the first time in your pitiful dating history, he was the one reaching out often and matching your energy. Talking with him is like a breath of fresh air. It’s almost better than than the fresh air you’re breathing now, walking through the open entrance of Ocean’s Cove. You immediately notice a very handsome man sitting at the table you’re directed towards, with his sandy hair styled perfectly.
As you walk over, he stands and pulls out your seat for you, only sitting down himself when you’re situated. His cheeks are tinted pink. “Hi.” He offers, clearing his throat. “You look really beautiful.”
“Thank you, Bob. You look amazing too.” You say, reaching out to brush against his blazer’s collar. “You always do.”
His face grows impossibly redder.
Just like the first time you met, you fall into the rhythm of conversation easily. It’s awkward, at first, as things often are, but it quickly becomes one of the best talks you’ve ever had. Your food is eaten between giggles and playful comments.
“He seriously made you do five hundred push-ups for someone else’s mistake? Man, you must hate this Hangman guy after he pulled that.”
“Oh, everyone hates him. In a loving way, mostly. Just be glad you’ve never been around him while he’s drunk.” Bob’s eyes are lit up, and the sight is better than you could’ve ever imagined.
You wipe your mouth with your napkin gently, trying to not rub your makeup on the soft cloth. “Wait, what’s he like drunk? He’s gotta be a character.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, and you engrave the sound in your memory. This is amazing. “He gets so competitive, but he’s too drunk to throw the darts straight or hold the pool cue proper. It’s really funny, because he thinks he’s doing well until the darts end up pinned through Maverick’s uniform.”
“Oh geez,” you laugh. “That reminds me of my old friend. She drunkenly spilled tequila down the front of our boss’s suit while trying to impress our coworker.”
“It seems like we’ve got a lot in common.” He smiles. He’s about to say something else, but your waiter stops in front of your table before he can get the words out.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, sir, but we have another couple waiting for your table. We have a three hour policy.”
Three hours? You’ve been here for three hours? You check the dimming light and realize that what you thought was forty minutes was, in fact, a hundred and eighty. Bob pulls out his card and signs the receipt, seemingly a little embarrassed that he also didn’t realize the time. “Here. Sorry for the trouble.”
The card is whisked away before you can even request a separate check. “I would’ve paid for that.”
“No can do.” Bob says, placing his hand over yours gently. “It’s my treat.”
You try to formulate a response to his kindness, but your mouth falls dry. All you can do is whisper a “Thank you,” as the waiter comes back with his card and ushers you out politely.
The outside air is heavy and chilly, cut with the smell of sea spray. As the sun dips below the horizon, you shiver. Without a word, Bob drapes his blazer around your shoulders. You turn to him, eyes slightly wide. “Are you sure?”
The question is about more than just the blazer. It encompasses everything you’ve wanted to say to him, everything that you’ve been worried about from the beginning. Is he sure that he wants to do this? That he really actually likes the person he just so happened to save at the Hard Deck?
“Always.” Is his simple reply. Your hand finds his, and he entwines your fingers like it’s natural. “I apologize if this is overstepping-“
“Do you want-“
You both start and stop at the same time. “Continue.” You say, a smile working its way up to your eyes.
“No, you go.” He insists. He swings his arm a bit, taking your hand with him. You can feel his blazer dip past your hand and onto his, as the sleeves are too long for you.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to go down to the beach with me. It might not be good for our formal clothes, but I really like you, and I want to spend more time with you. As much time as possible, actually.”
This time, it’s his eyes that widen. “You read my mind. I was thinking the exact same thing.”
You laugh, a sound that’s music to his ears. It’s perfect, like everything about you. Like your humor and your storytelling ability, like the slope of your shoulders and the softness of your hands. He could spend his whole life drowning in you. “Then let’s go, before we miss the entire sunset.”
You pull him along, your thumb smoothing over his own, and he thinks he’d let you lead him anywhere. “Look, the beach is so pretty at this time of day! It’s like something out of a magazine.” You exclaim, expensive heels digging into the sand. You can’t bring yourself to care about washing the sand off, not right now.
“It’s almost as pretty as you.” Bob breathes. He doesn’t expect you to hear it, but you do. You turn around and slide your palm over the smooth fabric of his shirt, playing with the collar, before kissing his cheek softly.
For once, you take initiative in your movements. You can’t let him slip away; you think you’d be devastated if you didn’t see him again, if you never told him exactly how you feel. “I’d say it’s nowhere near as pretty as you.” You can tell your face is warm, and his definitely is. “We need to do this again.”
“For sure.” He murmurs. His expression is conflicted, and you feel a small bit of insecurity bubbling up. Does he not want this as much as you do? He takes a small breath of air, eyes flicking up to the sky for a brief moment. His glasses slide down his nose just a bit, but he doesn’t push them up. He’s only focused on the words timidly making their way out of his mouth. “Please stop me now if you don’t feel the same way.”
“If ‘feeling the same way’ means wanting to continue talking, I wouldn’t stop you for the world.” You can feel a hint of anxiety in your tone. Bob takes both of your hands, and the small butterflies are eaten by larger, rougher butterflies. Think atlas moth sized butterflies.
“In that case,” he almost whispers, “would you let me be your boyfriend? For real this time. And I won’t hold it against you if you say no, or want to wait, because I know we’ve only really been talking for a week, and-“
You cut him off with a kiss. His lips are soft and don’t demand anything from you. He reaches for the back of your head, cradling you like you might break. When you finally break away, his glasses are just a bit crooked. You reach a hand up to fix them. “Yes. Yes, I’d love it if you were my real boyfriend.”
“Awesome.” Is all he can manage to say. You giggle anyways, placing your hands on his chest.
“Next time, if a creep hits me up in a bar, we won’t have to lie.”
He places a sweet kiss on your forehead. “If I’m there, I hope he wouldn’t even think to try.”
Taglist: @seitmai
#solar eclipse.#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#top gun maverick x reader#bob floyd fic#bob floyd#robert floyd#top gun fluff#top gun headcanons#top gun x reader#top gun fandom#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun fic
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Halftime Show
Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)
Word count: 2.7K
Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.
Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!
FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST
DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST
It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.
You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.
Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.
The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.
"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.
"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.
Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.
Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.
"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.
Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.
"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.
Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.
"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.
Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.
"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.
"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.
"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.
"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"
"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.
Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."
"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.
Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.
A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.
"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.
"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.
Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.
Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.
Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.
"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.
Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."
"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.
"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.
"Fuck you."
You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.
"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.
Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.
Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.
"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.
"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."
Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.
"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."
"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.
"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.
"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.
"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.
Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.
You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.
"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"
Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.
Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."
"Do whatever you want," you purr.
He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."
Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.
"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.
He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."
"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.
Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.
You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.
Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he��s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.
You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.
"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.
"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.
Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.
"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.
"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."
dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑
#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#javier pena smut#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#dave york smut#dave york x you#dave york x reader#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#marcus moreno smut#marcus moreno x reader#marcus moreno x you#ao3 smut#smut for smut's sake#i've abandoned my dignity#but i wasn't using it anyway#sex worker
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