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a-mint-bear · 2 days ago

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Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

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It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that.

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet.

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore.

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options.

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room.

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself.

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower.

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient.

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options.

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing.

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy.

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment.

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon.

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing…

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him.

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear.

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention.

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit.

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance.

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way.

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did.

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him.

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep.

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder.

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer.

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat.

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp.

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

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You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless.

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck.

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part.

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad.

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint.

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

#yandere #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere oc #male yandere x you #minty writing #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #genderless reader #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader

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multifandomgirl08 · 3 days ago

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White Wedding (Mini Verstappen Series)

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: The Full version of the wedding.

Warning(s): N/A

Words: 4.9k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

February 2, 2025

It had been a surprisingly warm day in Belgium for February. You had spent the morning at Victoria’s apartment getting ready for the wedding. You had coffee with Sophie before the hair and makeup lady came to get all three of you ready.

You and Max had chosen to have the wedding at a neoclassical castle in Kapellen. It was big enough given that the guest list had a little more than 100 people showing up. You have been a little concerned as it normally was still snowing in Belgium during this part of the year.

The woman who was doing your hair into loose waves pinned some of the ringlets back away from your face, spraying on the last bit of the hairspray when Victoria had walked into the room holding Luka.

“Ready?” She asked.

You gave her a nod back.

The drive over made some of your nerves come out. You were tapping your foot in the backseat. Sophie had eventually put her hand over your knee. You had stopped instantly leaning back, this was probably the longest you had gone without talking to Max since you had moved in with him.

Pulling up to the castle felt surreal. It had all been set up with white tent covers. You could see people outside, some straighten-ing chairs, and others moving around to fix flower arrangements.

Victoria had parked the car and got out.

“Come on, we should go up before anyone sees you.” Sophie said, opening the door.

You had walked through the back entrance of the house, taking in the fine crown molding just like you did the first time you and Max had walked through here together.

“It’s a little much, no?” He asked.

“Well you only get married once.” You said placing your hand on the banister that lead upstairs.

“Just once? What if I want to marry you again?”

“Then next time you can choose,” You said before feeling his hand grip yours.

You knew that this venue wasn’t exactly Max’s style. A beach Caribbean wedding was the original plan, but it fell through with the wedding date being a month before the start of the season and still wanting to go on a two week honeymoon.

“Fine, castle it is.” Max placed a kiss on your forehead. “I get first choice on food when we talk to the caterer though.”

You knew exactly what Max would want to serve everyone, kebabs with a few Italian inspired dishes added in.

“Okay, but we’re doing family style since it’ll be easier. We just need to make sure to have a vegan option for Lewis.”

“You always think of everything.” You leaned in a little more into Max’s side giving your shoulders a small shrug.

“Thank the wedding planner for being able to do this in less than 5 months.” Both you and Max shared a chuckle before walking outside to take a look at where the actual wedding would take place.

You had gone up to the master bedroom to see the dress that you had picked out was already hanging on the white silk hanger, in the Ivory color that you had chosen all those months ago forgoing the Dutch tradition of wearing white. Pnina Tornai really knew how to design a wedding dress. It was mermaid style with defined lace detailing that had a bone in strapless corset top.

“My brother isn’t going to know what hit him.” Victoria said, as she stood there in a blush pink dress of her own choosing.

You smiled at her before she helped you put on the dress, lacing up the corset strings, and tightened them just enough so you could still breathe. She had fastened the strings at the end of the corset and then left saying that she was going to check on Max.

“Can you tell him that I’ll see him down there?” You asked her. She nodded back to you.

“I will.” Before leaving the room.

Sophie had come in when you were putting in a pair of Van Cleef mother of pearl butterfly stud earrings in white gold.

You saw her from the mirror in the vanity. She was wearing a navy off the shoulder dress that cut off just after her knees and in her hands she was holding a black box.

“Halo, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sophie.” She walked further into the room, closing the door behind her. She moved to sit to the left of you pulling up a chair, before moving the black velvet box into your lap.

“I know, normally in the Dutch tradition the mother of the grooms don’t give the bride a gift, but I wanted to give you something that I wore on my wedding day to Jos... My marriage to Max’s father wasn’t the happiest, but it was a testament to how strong I became as a person as a result of being married to him. Marriage isn’t an easy thing, it’s constant work, you must take the bad with the good while you are together.” She took in a shaky breath. “My son is going to be your teammate in life, love, and in parenting.” She paused.

“So, I’m giving you this as a reminder to love Max with everything that you have, and with my hope that you'll make sure to listen to one another, and to be there when times are the hardest.” She finished, and then encouraged you to open the box.

You had pulled the lid open to reveal a diamond tennis bracelet, made of single carat stones in a white gold setting.

“My mother had it made for me, and I want to give it to you, and if you and Max ever have a daughter, I thought you could pass it down to her.”

You were a little blown away.

“Sophie, are you sure you don’t want to give this to Victoria? I’m sure when Tom is ready they’ll-“She didn’t let you finish your sentence and started to shake her head no.

“I have many pieces that will one day be hers. This is just for you.” Sophie took the bracelet out of the box and clasped it around your left wrist.

You didn’t know how to say thank you for this. So, instead you reached over and hugged her. She had slowly pulled away from you, taking your hand.

“Come, my son won’t wait all day.” You lightly laughed, quickly slipping on the 3-inch nude suede crystal encrusted Louboutin shoes onto your feet.

Sophie had walked down the stairs with you and ushered you into the living room but not fast enough that you didn’t see Max, who was standing there with Daniel, Martijn, and Max’s childhood friend Jack.

You could hear Nico’s voice, “Just walk and hold the pillow?”

“Yes, and when we need them, Daniel will ask for them. Just like in practice.”

“Okay Papa.” Nico said up to Max. “But why is Mama’s ring so sparkly?”

“Because Mama deserves a ring that’s pretty but not prettier than she is.” Hearing Max say that made a flash of tears fill up your eyes.

You only had a few moments before Sophie needed to walk out there before Max. You couldn't help but be a little nervous about walking down the aisle.

“Sophie,” Y/N said to her as they walked out of the room, hand in hand before the music started playing for her to walk down the aisle. “I just want to thank you. Thank you for raising Max the way that you did, and being there for him when Nico came into his life.”

You could see that Sophie was starting to tear up a bit. “My son loves you, and my grandson too. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife to my son even if I had a hand in choosing her myself.”

You gave her a nod and then she hugged you, pulling you in a little tight. She gave one of your hands a squeeze before walking out of the room, making sure to give you the bouquet of tulips, peonies, and hydrangeas all in shades of white or blue.

You could hear some of the music start from outside, with the hallway slowly clearing out after that.

Nico going first, hoping that he remembered to sit next to Tom just like at the rehearsal, and then with your friends moving to clasp arms with Martijn, and Jack. Victoria and Daniel went last as Maid of Honor and Best Man.

Sophie was supposed to walk out next with Max but you could hear her through the wall.

“I’m surprised that you’re not nervous.” She spoke.

“Nervous? No, everything feels right, like it should. I just want to see her.” You heard Max say.

“You will, and she looks beautiful.”

“Thank you for everything Mum, really.”

“She makes you happy, that is all a mother could want for her son.”

It fell quiet after that. The only sound was coming from outside, there was a key change and then the sound of an orchestral rendition of Lana Del Rey’s Young and Beautiful started to play.

That was your cue.

You had made your way out of the living room towards the doors that lead out into the lawn, through the open doors and saw everyone sitting there. You could see people from your side of the family, friends, co-workers, and Lewis (who insisted on sitting on your side of the aisle) sitting on the left side. Then on the right you could see a mix of Max’s family, the guys on the grid & Sebastian Vettel, some of the engineers from Red Bull, a few of the Team Redline guys, and then Christian and Geri who were sitting in the front row with Sophie, Tom, Nico, Luka, and Leo.

You looked down the aisle to see Max standing there, in a fitted black suit, giving you a watery smile, with a few tears falling from his eyes.

You gripped your bouquet tighter trying to move at the same pace of the song. You wanted to already be up there, standing next to Max.

A few more short steps before you were looking at Max, his eyes a watery blue, with a wide smile across his face.

You took a step up on the small platform, now standing next to Max. You gave him a reassuring smile.

Both you and Max looked at one another before the officiant started.

“Hello everyone,” The graying man said into the mic. “We are all gathered here today before friends, family, and loved ones to bring together Max and Y/N. By being here today in front of close friends and family, they are making a lasting commitment to one another, to love, to be present, to always listen to the other, to fight every battle as if they are one team, one family, to love the other with pure adoration, understanding, and a spark that doesn’t diminish over time.”

There was a silent moment before he continued, “I would like Max and Y/N to join hands for this next part so they may exchange vows and rings.”

You leaned down a little to hand over your bouquet to Victoria, who happily took it from your hands.

You stepped towards Max, mouthing a small, “Hi.”

He gave you a silent chuckle and a, “Hello.” back clasping your hands together.

“And the rings please,” The officiant asked, looking at Daniel.

Daniel gave a small shake of his head, silently saying that he didn’t have them and then pretended to check his pockets until Nico came up behind Daniel and pulled them out of one of the front pockets of Daniel’s suit.

Max laughed slightly, shaking his head at Daniel before the rings were in the officiant’s hands. You let out a small chuckle, same old Daniel. You had hoped that he would put his antics to rest on this one day.

“A circle is a symbol of Unity, Infinity, wholeness as well as eternal love. By wearing these rings, you are promising to uphold all of these meanings to one another from this day, until you’re last. Y/N if you will please?” He asked holding his hand open for her to take Max’s ring in her hand to slip it onto his finger.

“Max,” She started feeling the weaved carbon fiber that made up the design of his ring, slipping it onto his left hand. “I don’t know what my life would be like without you and Nico in it. I feel the most loved when I’m with you, and I feel lucky every day that you trust me, can joke around with me, and let me be your shoulder to lean on when you need it.”

She took in a small breath, “I’m in awe of the loyalty that you have for people, and then I remember that I’m one of those few lucky people who has it too. I love you; I just love everything about you, how you are never anything but yourself to people, that you're honest with everyone that you meet, and loving, to your sister, mom, nephews, our cats, and your son.”

You looked from Max to Nico, outstretching your hand towards Nico, asking him to walk closer to you so he could stand up on the altar with you and Max. You waited until Nico stood at your side and reached his little hand up to hold yours.

“Your son, our son means so much to me,” You could see that Max’s eyes were welling up with more tears. You kept a strong hold on Max’s hand while leaning down towards Nico, talking directly to him.

“Nico, I may not have been there when you were born, or when you experienced a few of your firsts. Regardless of those things, you’ll always be my son, and I won’t let anything, or anyone change that.”

Nico was quick to reach for you, wrapping his arms around the lace fabric at the bottom of the dress. “Mama.” You could hear him sob. He tightened his hold around your knees, and you looked up at Max seeing him give you the biggest watery smile that he could manage and pressed his lips together to stop his tears from falling.

You placed a kiss on Nico's forehead and then did your best to stand, but he didn’t let you go with his hands still on the skirt of your dress.

“You and our son are my family, and that will always come first to me. I promise to make this last, through every argument, every night spent away from one another, and every child that we may have in the future.” You finished off taking in a shaky breath.

The officiant just stood there and held out his hand for Max to start.

Max blinked trying to clear the tears from his eyes and then cleared his throat. “I remember when we first met,” He started and took a pause. “You told me that if something matters… I’d make time for it. I was surprised that you had given me a chance, and had been so patient with me, letting me set the pace through those eight months.” It had been hard, letting Max set the pace of the relationship early on. But you have been patient with him because you felt like he was worth waiting for. You felt him grip your hand tighter, his thumb tracing over your fingers like a track that he could drive in his sleep. “This was all before you had found out about Nico, when we were still trying to make us work, flying from London to Monaco just to spend a few hours together, it was also before you had become Nico’s mum.”

As Max spoke you could feel that he wasn’t as nervous to tell you these things. He wasn’t as nervous to let you know what going through those things was like for him.

“Once you found out about Nico, I felt like I had finally found someone who I could let myself be goofy and joke with. You understand me without me having to tell you things. You don’t push me to talk about things unless I let you. You are my lioness, my mijn leeuwin, protecting our cub, and building us a home while I’m off racing. You are the barrier from the outside world where I don’t have to worry about anything else. I know that you’re there, waiting for me to come home, always.”

Max had reached for the diamond encrusted ring, slowly slipping it onto your finger and then lifted your hand up to his lips placing a kiss on top of the band. He pulled away and you ran a finger over his chin feeling the light stubble under your finger. He gave you a big smile to the point where his eyes crinkled at the sides and watched as his lips slightly trembled.

“I promise to protect that with everything that I have, never take you for granted, to always listen to you, and make you feel like you are the most important thing to me, more than any trophy, or the miles that may separate us when I’m gone.”

“I love you.” You whispered to him when you felt a single tear fall down your cheek.

There were a few silent beats, almost as if the words needed to sink in before the officiant started again.

“Do you Y/N take Max to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day on, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” The officiant asked.

“I do.” You said without any hesitation in your voice.

“And do you Max, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day on, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickedness and in health, until death do you part?”

“Yes, I do.” Max smiled wide with his words.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The officiant said and then took a small step back. “You can kiss the bride.”

Max took a small step forward and then you did as well. Your lips met Max’s with his hand holding your waist and then dropping to the back of your dress running over the lace detailing and ribbon that made up the back of the corset. Your arms went around his neck pulling him in deeper. The hoots and hollers from the crowd muffled in your ears.

A few seconds later you could feel Nico’s hand drop from the skirt of your dress before you and Max pulled away from each other. You looked out to see that Nico was standing next to Sophie now before you felt Max take your hand so you could walk inside. Max took a few steps and then helped you down from the altar so you didn’t trip in your shoes.

Half an hour after the ceremony, the guests were already inside. Martin was behind the DJ booth with Lando standing by his side.

“I still don’t know why Y/N and Max didn’t take my offer to DJ the wedding?” Lando asked Martin.

“Maybe because I already offered, and it wasn’t as an exchange for a wedding gift.” He said turning down the EQ levels to the track that was playing.

Lando just shook his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Has anyone seen the bride and groom yet?” Daniel asked Victoria and Tom who were standing a few meters away from Martin

“Not yet. Grand entrance and all.” Tom replied.

Daniel kept walking through the room, making his rounds as best man until he stopped at Sebastian and talked to him for a bit.

“Hey Seb,” Daniel greeted him.

“Daniel,” He greeted the Aussie with a hug.

“Max told me he wasn’t sure if you were gonna come.”

“Last minute RSVP. I wasn’t sure if I was at first. But happy that I could be here to see him settle down and get married.”

“He’s happy that you're here. Just waiting to see him and the Mrs. come down soon.”

“Well, before that, how do you feel about a little bet between former teammates?” Seb asked, placing his arm around Daniel’s shoulders.

“What have you got in mind?” Daniel said, leading Seb towards the bar. He saw Sophie come into the room from outside while holding Nico’s hand. The wedding photographer must have been done with them outside.

A few minutes later the music changed again and two sets of footsteps could be heard against the wood flooring. There was a loud cheer from all of the guests seeing Max and Y/N walk out from under the doorway.

From there the room broke out in upbeat music with people eating and drinking, with people breaking into little groups of conversation while occasionally walking over to the bride and groom to give them their congratulations.

The second course had been placed down on the tables and everyone was sitting in their seats with Daniel moving to stand to the right of Max.

Daniel gave a loud whistle trying to get everyone’s attention as they were all finally sitting down. “Thanks, thank you.” He started to say before moving to pick up his champagne glass.

“Hey guys, to those of you who don’t know me, I’m Daniel. The best man,” He said, holding the mic up to his lips with his free hand.

“I just wanted to get on here and say a few words about the bride and groom. Maybe a little more the groom then the bride, sorry Y/N.” Daniel saw her give him a little shrug. She didn’t take it personally.

“So yeah, Max. We’ve known each other a long time, since before you first started driving in F1, I think you were like 12?” Daniel joked knowing that Max was 13 the first time they met. “I couldn’t imagine then when we first met that I would be able to be the best man at your wedding to the fox that you just married,” The crowd gave off a few hollers and Daniel could see that Y/N only slightly shook her head at his comment with a light pink flush painting her cheeks. “You were a scrawny awkward looking kid when I met you, and now look at you. Married with a kid. I would be lying if I said there weren’t bets placed today on when there is going to be another one.”

There was a small round of chuckles heard from a few of the drivers in attendance.

“But I digress, mate, you’ve got yourself a good one there.” Daniel further raised his glass. “Y/N, you make Max happy, I just want to let you know that you’ve married into a family that not only loves you but has truly welcomed you with open arms. I hope Max, that you know how lucky you are to have her in your life. Women like her don’t come around every day.��

“To many more years for the two of you, to Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” Daniel finished off before everyone took a drink from their glasses.

A few moments later Victoria stood up next to Y/N and started her speech.

“To those of you who don’t know me, I’m not only Y/N’s Maid of Honor but I’m also Max’s little sister. I just wanted to officially welcome Y/N to the family, and let you know how excited I am to have a sister-in-law. I heard a lot about you when you and Max had first started dating. He would always want to talk about you, and when you met Nico it only seemed like he started to talk about you even more. Having said that, Max I love you. But if you screw this up, I get to keep her in the divorce.”

Max let out a big laugh and then reached for Y/N’s hand. She looked at him and he gave her a fake questioning look that said, Something I don’t know about. She just shook her head at him and then Max smiled at Victoria knowing that she was only joking.

“I don’t plan on letting that happen,” He interjected and heard a few chuckles from the rest of the wedding party. Max reached for Y/N’s hand and lightly kissed the back of it.

Victoria let out a laugh, “Regardless, as we’ve gotten to know each other really well over the years. You have truly become like a sister to me, being a sympathetic ear when I need it when it comes to the kids, and always being someone that I can rely on.” Victoria lifted up her glass, “To my brother and sister-in-law.”

Everyone drank from their glasses and Nico and Victoria’s boys drank from the little glasses filled with sparkling apple cider that mimicked the champaign.

Martin had stepped away from the DJ setup with an announcement of the first dance for the bride and groom with Geri taking the mic. Y/N’s eyes widened seeing Geri holding the mic as Max took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. Max pulled her into his chest as Geri’s voice filled the room to Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing as they swayed to the music with him occasionally spinning her.

The song was coming to a slow close when Nico had walked up trying to slip between his parents. Max lifted Nico, dancing with them for a moment. Then set Nico down so he could dance with Y/N for a few moments while he went to dance with Sophie for the next song.

Nico ran off when the song had ended and Christian had walked onto the dance floor. “Do you mind Y/N?”

“Of course not Christian.” She said before he pulled her into his arms.

“I’m sure you’ve heard it plenty of times in the last few days but you’re good for him. Not when it comes to him racing but just for who he is as a person.”

She gave Christian a nod, “He’ll never tell you this, but you’re a second set of parents to him,” She said gesturing to Max who had pulled Sophie onto the dance floor, “and a great grandfather to Nico.”

Christian gave her a nod back and then turned his head to see Daniel standing there.

“Father daughter dance is over. Mind if I cut in?”

“There has been a lot of cutting in.” Y/N said to Daniel.

“You’re in a room full of F1 drivers, it’s going to happen quite a lot.” Y/N rolled her eyes at him and then let Daniel pull her in. Christian walked back to his table and offered his hand up to Geri.

Max had pulled Y/N away from the dancefloor after the fifth driver on the grid had pulled her in to dance with them so that the wedding cake could finally be cut. It was a three tier white cake with the groom in a race suit that was fashioned to look like a tuxedo and the bride standing at his side.

They both managed to interlock their arms taking a bite from the cake, Max’s lips covered in the white ganache frosting and then she lifted the plate to his face and let it smear all over his skin trying to avoid his eyes.

The plate fell away and he had a devious expression on his face and she knew that she was in trouble. He reached for her and pressed a cake covered kiss to her lips before wiping any of the excess cake from their faces.

They left to clean up further and came back to the party with Daniel having the photographer's camera in his hand. He started taking candid photos. Daniel had gotten a picture of most of the wedding party and went looking for Max and Y/N after they had disappeared for a little too long to see them making out by the service entrance to the house and snapped a quick picture before leaving them to their fun.

It was a while later that Max and Y/N rejoined the party long enough to throw the bouquet out into the crowd of young “single” women; Daniel’s longtime girlfriend of two years had caught it and then they made a final round of all the guests before leaving the party. Daniel was the only one whose eyes went to the couple noticing Y/N’s hair fall out of her pin backed look.

“Have a nice time.” Sophie said as Nico stood with his parents holding her hand.

“We will,” Y/N said before Nico reached for her as he pressed his face into the skirt of her dress.

“We’ll be home in two weeks, be good for Oma, okay?” Y/N asked Nico. As they left to get into the car to leave for the hotel for their early morning fight, Nico gave her a nod and hugged Max with a silent goodbye hanging in the air, giving his parents a final wave.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

#Mini Verstappen Series #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

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janeyseymour · 2 days ago

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A Case of You

Summary: You and a certain redhead are deeply, and undeniably in love- although the two of you don't realize it. Cue Barbara and someone unexpected to fix that for you on Fourth of July.

WC: ~5.4k

(lemme know if you wanna hear my rendition of the song mentioned in this fic :))

It’s an odd situation that you’ve found yourself in. You’ve been living in Philadelphia for a while now. You somehow manage to scrounge up enough money after years of odd jobs, a few investments, and your day job of teaching at Abbott Elementary to finally be able to afford a house. It’s a beautiful little house- one that you’ve been able to turn into something of a quaint little cottage core house. Your backyard is filled with flowers and emulates what some might say is a house in the movies.

And because you finally have a house that you’re proud of, you invite your folks to the city of brotherly love for Fourth of July. There’s no place like the founding city of the country to be in for the day. From the red and blue dyed beers, to the fireworks that burst over the museum of art (and you’ll have a beautiful view of the display room your house), your new city is one of the best places to be.

Once your coworkers find out that you’ll have the view that they’ve always wanted, it’s decided that you’re going to be hosting the holiday not only for your family, but for your work family as well. So, it might be a little crowded, but… it’ll be fun. That’s what you tell yourself. It’ll be fine.

So here you are, on July 3rd, frantically cleaning your house. Not that it’s messy by any means, but you want to impress. Your house is cozy, and you want to give off the effect that it’s well lived in (and it is) while maintaining the sense that you’re clean and proud of the place that you inhabit. It’s not all that hard. There are pictures dressing the walls, beautiful paintings that you’ve done, little knick knacks that you’ve collected over the years. It all feels homey.

But still, you’re making sure that it’s presentable enough that you won’t get ridiculed and lectured by your mother and your coworkers won’t make fun of your home.

That is, until your cell phone rings. Expecting it to be your mother, letting you know that she and your father have landed, you answer the phone, “Hey Mom.”

“Not your mom,” a voice that you’ve been missing comes through the phone.

Your brow furrows as you pause your scrubbing the toilet as you glance at your phone. “Melissa?”

“Yeah, hun. Just callin’ to see if you needed any help with the party tomorrow,” the redhead tells you. “Any cleaning or want me to bring anything or something?”

You bite your lip. You wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but the person that you’re trying to impress besides your mother is Melissa- the woman that you’ve been hopelessly in love with since you started working at Abbott. “Uhm… I’m just cleaning the last few things now,” you tell her honestly. “But I really do appreciate the-”

“What’s ‘the last few things’? Because you’ve told me that you only have a few things to get done before you head home from work, and then I find out that you stayed at the school so long Mr. J handed you his keys to lock up the building for the night.”

You have to let out a laugh at that memory. You sigh softly as you decide to tell her the truth. “I still have to finish cleaning up the living room and the kitchen. But it really isn’t all that-”

“Jeet?” At your silence, the redhead continues. “I’m bringing over drinks and dinner and helping you clean. I’ll be over in an hour.”

“Melissa,” you try to protest.

She’s quick to cut your argument off though. “I’ll see you in an hour, hopefully less than that.”

And then you hear the phone line disconnect, and you quietly groan to yourself as you look at your appearance. You’re in your cleaning clothes that are covered with bleach stains, your hair is tied up messily, and makeup hasn’t been applied since probably the last day of school. You look a mess. With a sigh, you head for your bedroom to at least put on your face- you want to look at least somewhat presentable.

The redheaded second grade teacher is knocking at your door less than an hour later.

“Hey,” you smile softly as you open the door. She’s standing there with a case of beer and a bag of what you can only assume is dinner. And somehow, even in just shorts and a tee shirt, she looks as incredible as ever. You find yourself blushing.

“Are you gonna let me in, or should we just have dinner outside?” Melissa quips.

You let out a small, nervous laugh. “No, no, come in. P-Please don’t mind the mess.”

“You’re cleaning, I’m ready to clean,” the woman laughs. “It’s all good. Let’s eat though first, yeah?”

Dinner is nice. The two of you chat about what you’ve been up to since school let out for the summer and potential plans for trips that either of you are looking to take.

“I just don’t have all that many friends in the area,” you admit shyly. “So, most of my trips are solo.”

“You do have friends in the area,” Melissa refutes. “You got the Abbott group. You got me.” She nudges you with her elbow.

“I do,” you sigh softly. “I just don’t want to be a bother.”

“A lot of people are bothers to me,” the redhead laughs. Then she turns serious. “You ain’t one of ‘em.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “How kind of you to say.”

“If you ain’t doin’ nothin’, I spend a lot of time down at the shore in July,” Melissa offers casually.

You can’t help but smile. “That- that’d be nice, yeah.”

“Well,” your coworker sighs as she sets down her fork and begins to clean up. “This house won’t clean itself. So what do you want me to help you with?”

“You helped enough by making sure I ate dinner,” you tell her with earnest. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m helping, so just tell me what to do, or I’ll start snooping around for cleaning supplies anyway.”

The two of you clean the kitchen and the living room as music floats through your house from your record player.

“You got quite the selection,” Melissa tells you as she dusts the case that holds all of your music. “It ain’t half bad.”

You blush. Your music taste is all over the place.

“Mind if I pick an album to listen to next?”

“Of course not,” you call from the next room over. “Pick whatever.”

You expect her to pick a rock band, so when Joni Mitchell’s hauntingly beautiful voice begins to dance in the air, you’re a bit shocked.

Still, you let the music take over your heart and your soul, and when “A Case of You” starts, you can’t stop yourself from singing along softly. As you sing the words to yourself, you realize that you would drink a case of Melissa and still be on your feet. There’s something about her that is so intoxicating and yet always leaves you on your feet.

Apparently though, your voice travels more than you were aware of. In the living room, Melissa can hear your gentle melody. Her cleaning pauses as she silently makes her way to where she can hear your voice better.

You’re standing there scrubbing the sink as you quietly echo Joni Mitchell’s vocals. It isn’t until the song is over that you hear a different voice.

“You sing real good,” the redhead compliments quietly.

Instinctively, you jump. You weren’t expecting her to hear you. And then your face flushes as you turn to face her. “I- uh…” You can’t get much out than that. You fumble for words for a few seconds before you just barely whisper out an apology.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Melissa smiles. “I think I like your version more.”

Your jaw practically drops at those words. “Oh, I- uh, thank you. But nobody can sing it like Joni.”

“I think you did it,” the redhead tells you, and you can tell in her voice that she truly means it. “I saw the guitar in your living room too. You play?”

You shrug. “Kind of.” You don’t want to admit that you’ve been playing for quite some time and oversell yourself- better to underestimate than over.

“Well, after we’re finished cleaning, I think I should get to hear it.”

You blush. “Maybe.”

By the time the two of you have the house straightened up to your liking, it’s quite late. If you’re being honest too, with the amount of alcohol that the two of you have consumed tonight, you aren’t necessarily comfortable with sending Melissa on her way.

“So, I believe you owe me a song,” your colleague teases you as she opens up another beer and settles on your couch.

“I was hoping you’d forget,” you laugh as you sit next to her.

“I’d never forget that voice,” the redhead smiles innocently. “C’mon, just one song?”

With a heavy sigh and a dramatic eye roll, you reach for the guitar that you keep in the corner of the room. You tune it up quickly, chuckling when you see the impressed look that Melissa wears on her face when you don’t actually need a tuner.

You strum the guitar a few times to ensure that it’s tuned to your liking before beginning to play.

Of course, you play your own rendition of “A Case of You” to prove to Melissa that you simply can’t do the song justice the way that Joni Mitchell does. Your approach doesn’t work. By the time you’re finished fingerpicking the last few notes, green eyes are wide and in shock.

“What?” you ask weakly. “I told you I only kind of play.”

“That’s a lot more than ‘kind of’,” the second grade teacher says. “You should be teaching Music, not fourth grade.”

You shake your head. “If I had to do it for a living, I’d hate it. But as a hobby, I do love it.”

“Play another for me,” Melissa requests as she leans back and takes another sip of her drink.

Somehow, the two of you end up going through another two drinks as you give the redhead her own personalized concert. Those sparkling green eyes stay mesmerized with your charming voice as you tell her the stories behind why you learned a few select songs, how you wrote a few, and the way that your melodies are nothing but soothing.

“You should be out in LA writing music,” Melissa tells you. “You’re… incredible.”

Your already red and warm cheeks from the alcohol only become more flushed at her kind words. You can only set the instrument down in response.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” you chuckle as you sip your beverage.

The redhead sighs softly. “I guess I should head out for the night.”

“Stay,” you tell her quickly- probably a bit too quickly. “You’ve had more than enough to drink, it’s late, and I don’t want you out there driving.”

The smirk that tugs at Melissa’s lips, along with that mischievous glint in her eyes gets you to look at her curiously.

“Somehow I knew that when I brought drinks over that would be your response, so I packed a bag,” the redhead reveals. “Let me just go grab my stuff from my car."

You can’t help but throw back your head with laughter. “Of course you thought that.”

“Was I wrong?” your coworker teases.

The two of you end up sharing a bed that night, and when your alarm goes off the next morning, despite the fact that it’s July, you find yourself cold. You turn over, only to discover that the redhead isn’t next to you.

But you can hear soft humming coming from downstairs, along with the record player. She’s downstairs. And then once you’ve woken up a bit more, you can smell the coffee and breakfast being made. You make your way downstairs and can’t stop yourself from practically drinking in the sight of Melissa Schemmenti cooking you breakfast.

She must hear your footsteps, because she turns on her heel and smiles at you. “Hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”

“I’ll never pass up a Schemmenti meal,” you tease. “You know that.”

It’s only a few minutes before the two of you are sitting at the kitchen table with plates in front of you.

“You know you cuddle in your sleep?” Melissa asks.

You turn a violent shade of red. “S-sorry.”

She shrugs. “Don’t be. It was nice.”

Your heart flutters. You never thought that the rough and tough Melissa Schemmenti would be one for cuddling, but here she is.

Breakfast is nice and warm, and you can’t help the blush in your cheeks as the two of you clean in a comfortable silence. More than once, the two of you accidentally brush hands together or her hand finds the small of your back to guide you out of her way.

The both of you get ready for this party, and by the time you’re making your way down the steps to change the record, your doorbell is ringing.

It’s your parents- of course they show up first. It’s not that you aren’t happy to see them, but you wish the house was a bit more full so that you wouldn’t get the third degree as soon as you see your mother.

“Is it Barb?” Melissa’s voice floats down the steps before she comes into sight. When she turns the corner, she sees your parents still standing on the front step. “Oh.”

“Who are you?” your mother eyes your coworker warily.

“Melissa,” the redhead states. “Just a coworker of Y/N’s.”

Your mother hums quietly before inviting herself in. Her eyes glance around your place with a slight frown. “This isn’t much.”

“It isn’t,” you mumble. “But I very much like where I live and how I live.”

“When you said you could afford to buy a house, I was expecting more.”

“Jane, lay off,” your father cuts in. “Y/N, your house is very… you. I like it.”

You’re not quite sure what to say to that. So you simply smile at your father as a silent ‘thank you’ and direct the conversation elsewhere, praying that your coworkers show soon. “Did you want anything to drink? I have wine in the fridge, or I just have to set out the ice for the coo- shoot.”

“What is it?” Melissa asks, brows furrowed with concern.

“I forgot to buy ice yesterday.”

“Oh,” the redhead rolls her eyes as her arm wraps around your waist. “I can just run to the corner store real quick and grab some.”

Your eyes soften significantly as Melissa Schemmenti saves the day. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, hun.” She grabs her purse from the kitchen table and heads out with a soft hum, only to pop back in. “You need anything else? Or�� do you guys want anything?” she directs that last part at your parents.

All three of you shake your heads, so she smiles that Philly smile of hers and heads out. You momentarily forget that your parents are present, and you can’t help the shy smile and blush that creeps into your cheeks as you watch her figure leave.

“Your little friend is very pretty,” your mother states once the door is shut.

You turn to her sharply. “Oh?”

“She’s very pretty,” your mom says again.

“Oh, good. I thought it was just me,” you mutter.

“No,” your father cuts in this time. “It’s a fact. You should probably get a move on if you want to do something about that. A girl that pretty won’t be single for long.”

“I was planning on pining from afar for anywhere from two to ten years and seeing where that got me. Probably nowhere, but I won’t know until I try,” you quip cheekily. “

"Your mother and I both saw the way she looks at you- she definitely has a thing for you too,” your father tells you. “Just… think on it. Yeah?”

You roll your eyes dramatically, and sigh. “Just… don’t go doing your meddling, please?”

“I won’t,” your dad raises his hands in mock surrender. Your mother, on the other hand though, stays quietly.

Melissa makes her way into the house again not twenty minutes later, a smile dancing on her lips. “The ice is in the cooler, along with the drinks.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her warmly. You then note that she has three drinks in her hand: a beer for her and your father, and a seltzer for you. She passes them out silently before cracking hers open and taking a sip.

She then leans in and wraps an arm around your waist again before mumbling into your ear, “If my mother said that to me about a house this beautiful, I would’ve lit the trash can on fire.”

The giggle that erupts from your soul is hard to contain. Thankfully, you don’t have a chance to say anything else because your doorbell rings. And when the two of you go to open the door, you’re more than pleased to see the entirety of the Abbott clan. Anything to get your mother’s attention off of you.

As it turns out, your mother and Barbara seem to get along swimmingly. What surprises you is how much your mother likes Janine and Ava as well. Your father quite enjoys Mr. Johnson’s tales, is able to talk sports with Gregory, and even falls for Jacob’s awkward charm. And Melissa is able to meander through your backyard with you as you ensure that nothing gets too out of hand.

When you’re chatting with your father and Mr. Johnson, your mother glances over at you. Melissa has an arm slung around your shoulder, and you don’t seem to mind it one bit.

“Tell me,” your mother implores Barbara. “Melissa.”

“What about her, dear?”

“Her and my daughter.”

“Oh,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles as she sips on her wine. “Those two have been pining for each other for years. If you ask me, it’s just a matter of time before they finally pull their heads out of their asses and get together.”

Your mother sighs a breath of relief. “I’m glad I’m not the only one to notice.”

“Oh, you aren’t, Jane,” Barb laughs. “Don’t tell either of them, but we have a bet on how long it’ll take them to finally start dating. I said by the end of July. Everyone else still thinks they’ll be dancing around it come the beginning of the school year.”

“While I don’t approve of a lot of the choices my daughter has made,” your mother sighs. “Including moving away from us, I do want her to be happy. Do you think she’ll be happy with Melissa?”

“That daughter of yours is never happier than when she’s with Melissa,” Barbara states simply. “And just so you’re aware: your daughter has done a whole lot of good while she’s been out here with us. We are very proud of her, and you should be too. I know she sometimes feels that she isn’t good enough for you.”

Your mother bites her lip, a bit ashamed at how she knows she’s made you feel- both today and in the past. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll mend that.”

“As you should.”

“But for now… my husband promised he wouldn’t meddle in her love life, but I made no such promise. Should we win that bet for you?”

The kindergarten teacher is clearly intrigued as she raises a brow. “And how do you propose we would do that?”

Their plan, as it turns out, is not the most intricate. It’s to simply get the two of you hammered while your mother quietly feeds you comments about how you’re already practically in a relationship with the redhead. Meanwhile, Barbara will plant that same seed in Melissa’s head before daring her to just make a move- Melissa is never one to turn down a dare while intoxicated; that’s how she ended up doing cartwheels on South Street one night after a particularly wild night at Oscar’s.

“You know she spent the night last night?” Barbara asks your mother. “Came over to help clean and ended up just staying.”

Your mother’s perfectly sculpted brow lifts. “I just assumed she was the first one here.”

“Nope,” your mother smirks. “I was supposed to pick her up so all of us Abbott people could come together.”

“Interesting… if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have some snooping to do.” With that, your mother rises from her seat and enters your house. Immediately, her eyes turn to the steps where your room and main bathroom are. She ascends up the steps. Melissa’s things, at least that’s what she assumes, are still scattered around in the bathroom. And… bingo: two toothbrushes. Then her eyes wander into the bedroom. Your mother knows that you don’t typically make the bed, but she is surprised to see that both sides of the bed are disheveled- bodies had clearly been on both sides.

Meanwhile, outside, Barbara makes her way over to you and Melissa.

“Where’d my mom go?” you ask.

“Bathroom,” Barb tells you gently. Her eyes don’t miss the fact that the redhead’s arm is still around you. “You two seem to be having a nice time.”

Green eyes glare at her work best friend, but you just smile and lean into Melissa. That glare washes right off of her face.

“It’s nice,” you smile. God, that smile of yours has the second grade teacher wrapped around your finger. “I’m almost done my drink though.”

That’s all the kindergarten teacher needs to hear to begin her side of the plan. “Let me get you both drinks.”

“Oh, I can get them for us,” Melissa tells your coworker. Her hand slips away from your back, and it’s odd that you feel the slightest bit cold without her holding you.

The kindergarten teacher watches the way that your eyes linger on Melissa’s figure. And when she’s bringing back the drinks, you simply attach yourself to her hip again.

“Cheers,” Barb smiles as she lifts her glass in the air. The three of you clink, and then drink. She makes a mental note to pace herself while raising her glass in your direction often. Melissa and you never turn down a toasted drink.

When Barbara sees your mother make her way back out, she moseys over. “What did you find?”

“Those two are so in a relationship, even if they aren’t admitting it. They shared a bed and everything!”

“Well, I’ve already initiated them getting drunk,” Barb informs your mom.

“Perfect,” your mother grins. Her eyes glance in the direction that you and your coworker are in. “Those two are idiots if they don’t think they’re in love. Well, time to go start.”

When you see your mother walking in your direction, you simply tap your can with Melissa’s before downing a good portion of it. The redhead follows your actions, although her eyes do widen when she sees how much and how quickly you’re drinking.

“My dear,” your mother starts. “Can I have a word with you?”

With a soft sigh, you nod and allow her to pull you in another direction.

“What, Mom?”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” your mother instructs strictly. Then she softens significantly, and you feel like you’re a young child again. She used to look at you with so much love. “I just… wanted to apologize.”

“For?” you raise a brow.

“The things I’ve said about your career choices and the likes,” your mother sighs sheepishly. “I- I am very proud of you. I hope you know that.”

You frankly aren’t sure what you’re supposed to say to that, so you just give a sad smile. “Thank you for saying that, Mom.”

“I know that you probably don’t believe me, but I am very proud of you. You’re shaping the future generations, and you’ve been able to make it out here on your own. You seem to have a lovely work life, and… you’re a hell of a lot happier here than you were back home.”

“I am,” you admit. “I love it here, Ma.”

“That’s all I could ever want in this life for you- happiness,” your mom smiles as she squeezes your hand. “My sunshine deserves sunshine.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“I think I know how you could be happier though.”

“I’m not moving back-”

“I’m not asking you to move back home,” your mother rolls her eyes. “I’m asking you to pull your head out of your ass and get with that little friend of yours already.”

“I thought I told you and Dad not to meddle in my life love,” you smirk.

Your mother replicates your facial expression- one of mischief. “I never agreed to that, dear. But I mean, come on. It’s quite clear to me that you have feelings for her.”

“So what if I do?”

“It’s also quite obvious to me that she reciprocates those feelings for you,” your mother states. “I mean, the two of you act as though you’re already together as it is.”

“We do not,” you blush.

“She stayed at your house last night, the two of you shared a bed, her toothbrush is right next to yours in the holder.”

“Friends stay over at each other’s houses sometimes,” you counter.

“She’s been hanging off of you all day,” your mother points out. “She calls you hun.”

“She calls every one ‘hun’.”

“Her eyes never leave you, and your eyes never leave her. Just admit that you’re in love with her. And she’s in love with you.”

“She is not,” you roll your eyes.

“All I’m saying is: the two of you act like you’re in a relationship already. Just… think about your happiness for your ol’ Ma. I do want grandkids at some point, you know.”

Barbara grabs her work wife by the arm. “Cheers!”

The redhead only throws back her head to laugh before taking a long swig.

“So when are you gonna just tell that girl that you’re in love with her?” the kindergarten teacher probes.

“Never,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I plan on pining from afar for… forever. There ain’t no way someone like that would ever want me.”

“I see the way she looks at you, Melissa,” Barbara reminds her friend. “She loves you, and the two of you act like you’re in a relationship as it is.”

“No we don’t.” The pointed look from her coworker has the redhead blushing. “Okay, maybe we do. But there’s a difference between acting like it, and actually being in a relationship.”

“I think you should go for it,” Barb says. “Tonight.”

“What?” Green eyes go wide.

“Why not? Nothing is more romantic than fireworks. And, the two of you are drunk, and if it doesn’t feel right you can always blame it on the booze.”

The second grade teacher bites her lip. “I don’t know.”

“Just… think about it.”

No sooner is the redhead back at your side, holding you by the hip again. And while she seems like everything is wonderful and there is nothing but pleasant thoughts going on in her head, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Her mind is swirling with what it would be like to kiss you, to be in a relationship with you.

Maybe, Melissa thinks to herself.

Well, that maybe turns into an Absolutely I will, when Barbara dares her a few hours later to do something about the mutual pining that is going on between the two of you.

“I dare you to kiss her while the fireworks are going on,” the kindergarten teacher smirks, pretty intoxicated herself.

“I will,” the redhead chuckles, never one to turn down a dare.

By the time the fireworks start going off, everyone is either on a blanket that they had brought or in a chair that lived at your house. Of course, you’re the last to search a seat due to your expert hosting skills, and you find yourself coming up with nothing.

“Come here,” Melissa rolls her eyes. As if you would find anywhere else to be but near the redhead. You stand beside her, ready to take in the spectacle that is about to light up the sky. And in a daring move, the second grade teacher easily tugs you into her lap. She her arms around your midsection and rests her chin on your back.

Your mother nudges Barbara with her elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “You think it’s gonna happen?”

“I dared Melissa to,” the kindergarten teacher mutters back. “So, yeah.”

“Perfect.”

As the first fireworks go off, you can feel the excitement practically radiating off of Melissa. It’s adorable when you turn and see how awestruck she is by the lights in the sky. Your coworkers are entirely entranced by the display, and when it’s clear that the finale is about to take place, you expect to see those green eyes focused on the dark night above you. But instead, the redhead is looking directly at you.

“Lis,” you chuckle, and you try to turn her head so she can look up at the last of the fireworks. She doesn’t seem to care about the spectacle. No, her eyes are trained on you. “You’re gonna miss the finale.”

“I don’t care,” the redhead breathes.

“But they’re beautiful,” you whisper.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Melissa tells you quietly. And then her lips meet yours. And… the fireworks in the sky are no comparison to the fireworks in your heart.

Everyone that had gathered at your house is mesmerized by the display in the sky- all except your mother and Barbara. Silently, they high five before turning their eyes back to the finale of the fireworks.

Once the fireworks are over, it isn’t long before your friends and family begin to file out of your house.

“Don’t think that we aren’t talking about that kiss that I saw,” your mother whispers to you as she hugs you goodbye. Immediately, your cheeks flush red. But you can’t say anything, because she’s off of you, and giving Melissa a hug goodbye.

Barbara, on the other hand, doesn’t give any inclination that she knows what had taken place just a few short minutes ago. She heads out with a hug and a kiss to your cheek, thanking you for your wonderful hospitality.

And then you and the redhead are alone. And before you know it, her lips are back on yours.

Fast forward to the end of Summer, and Melissa has been your girlfriend since the Fourth. It’s been a wonderful summer spent down at the beach with her, and all too soon you’re walking back into the halls of Abbott.

Barbara doesn’t say anything when she sees the two of you walk in together or the way that Melissa instinctively prepares your morning beverage for you. No. She chooses to wait until the last of your Abbott family has made their way into the staff lounge.

“So,” the kindergarten teacher claps her hands together with a bright grin on her face. “Where’s my money?”

“Your money?” your girlfriend raises a brow.

“My money,” Barbara states with a smile.

“For what?” Jacob asks.

“The bet.”

“No one won,” Ava rolls her eyes. “Not yet at least. I still got my bet going.”

“That’s where you would be wrong,” the kindergarten teacher reveals. “Y/N and Melissa got together on Fourth of July.”

Your jaw nearly drops. “What?”

“You heard what I said, baby.”

“H-how?”

“While everyone else was watching the fireworks, I saw what I needed to see. So, just confirm it so I can win my three-hundred dollars.”

“Three hundred dollars?” Melissa asks incredulously. At her best friend’s nod, the redhead just continues to flounder for words.

“I ain’t payin’ until one of them confirms.”

You sheepishly smile as you raise the two of your hands from under the table, intertwined.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #lisa ann walter #barbara howard #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 23 hours ago

Text

Fine. One more night.

After Azul's overblot everyone was exhausted. When you finally stumbled out of Octavinelle's portal the sun has already set beneath the horizon.

Leona and the other Savanaclaw boys walked out of the portal behind you in similar states of exhaustion. Seeing them caused you to remember you had still had to grab your stuff from their dorm before heading off to Ramshackle. After that you would likely have to spend around 10 minutes trying to get the front door unlocked and open, check the old dorm to make sure it hadn't deteriorated to the point it would collapse on yours and Grim's heads as you slept, make sure nobody broke into the dorm in your time away (they'd have nothing to steal, but you've caught students more than once trying to vandalize the place), and then the ghosts would likely hound you with questions as to what had happened. You weren't going to get any sleep tonight.

You groaned and ran your hands over your tired face.

Leona noticed this action and looked at you suspiciously. "What now," he asked against his own best judgement. Whatever it was would probably cause trouble for him, but he asked before he could stop himself.

"I still have to grab our stuff from Savanaclaw before heading back to Ramshackle. And when we get there. . ." you sighed and rubbed your face again "so much to do. Not gonna get any sleep."

Without another word, you and Grim hobbled through Savanaclaw's mirror. Once the two of you were gone Jack and Ruggie both looked over towards Leona.

"What?" He tried to snap, but he was to tired to put any real bite in his words.

"Surely. . .one more night wouldn't hurt. . ." Jack mumbled.

"Could get 'em to cook breakfast again in the morning." Ruggie hummed. "They're a pretty killer cook."

Leona just stared at the two like they each had grown another head. "You're kiddin'. After the Ruckas they caused last night?"

"They were just trying to convince you to help! They'd have no reason to do that again tonight." Jack immediately piped up.

"It's not like ya had any troubly sleeping the other couple of nights they were here," Ruggie snickered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd even say ya slept better."

The two watch as Leona growl before walking to the Savanaclaw mirror with a huff.

In Leona's room, you'd just finished getting yours and Grims stuff packed up. Grim hadn't been much help, having fallen asleep on a plush chair the moment you stepped foot in the room.

You were about to wake him when a grumpy Leona came stomping through the door. Assuming he was angry at the two of you for still being there you began to apologize: "Sorry, Leona. I just finished packing out stuff and I was just about to wake Grim so we could-"

Before you could finish your sentence he cut you off "You're staying here tonight."

". . .wha-?"

"I said you're staying here tonight! It's dark out and you're already here, so you're staying here tonight. I don't need the two of you getting into trouble on your way home that becomes my problem in the morning," he grumbles.

"Why would any trouble we get in become your-"

"Do you wanna stay here tonight or not?" Leona's tone is harsh, but his posture is relaxed as always, and his face is just a hair softer than usual.

"Uhm. . .yeah. Thanks." You stumble a bit, shocked by his words, but eventually manage to respond. When you do he simply huffs and flops onto his bed.

You hurry to unfold the futon in the area next to Grim's chair so as to not make him keep the lights on any longer. After draping a blanket over the sleeping Grim, you toss the pillow and blanket you had been using the past few night onto the futon and crawl onto it.

Leona finally shuts off the lights (not that he was waiting for you or anything) and the room falls into darkness. The only light comes from the moon shining through the openings in the wall next to Leona's bed.

Several minutes pass in silence before Leona speaks: "Whatever you have to say just say it so I can get to sleep. I can't relax with you staring me down like that."

"It's. . .It's nothing."

You're about to close your eyes and pull the blanket over your head so you can wallow in your embarrassment when you hear a click. You slowly turn over to see the lamp next to Leona's bed has been turned on and he's staring at you with an expression that reads 'don't play with me right now."

You sigh and sit up. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I already told you my reasons for letting you stay here tonight." He grumbles, reaching to turn off the lamp again.

"No! I-I mean. . .for that too, but what I meant was: thank you for letting us stay here and for helping us with the overblot. I know you didn't have to, and I appreciate it. It may sound dramatic, but you really did risk your life to help us today. . .thank you."

The room falls into silence again before you hear Leona's laugh ring through the space. You look up in surprise.

"It almost sounds like I'm a good person when you put it like that."

Another moment of silence.

"You're not?"

He looks at you like you're crazy before clicking the light back off.

You both shuffle back into comfortable positions. You aren't sure if you were simply imagining things from exhaustion, but you could have sworn you heard a mumbled "Thanks to you too" from across the room before you drifted off to the land of dreams.

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starrihan · 2 days ago

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could you write jay and jungw sharing y/n🙏🏾

-> Pairing: Jay x afab! Reader x Jungwon

-> Plot: your need for a roommate leads you to meeting Jungwon who always brings his friend Jay around

-> Genre: smut, 3some, jay is kind of a sleeze, shy jungwon, squirting, use of nicknames (baby girl), oral (m receiving), fingering, nipple play, kissing, orgasm denial, piv sex, creampie (always use protection!!), drooling

-> Warnings: none

-> Word Count: 2,205

-> Notes: you guys deliver quick I’m so happy to write requests 🤩🤩🤩 disclaimer tho this is my first 3some fic so please bear with me. also since this is a very broad ask please let me know if anything in this fic bothered you or wasn’t what you were expecting, I’m simply writing based on what I was given~ (not proofread)

༄ ༄ ༄

okay so im imagining a roommate type situation.

like Jungwon is your roomate who has his friend Jay over a lot so you slowly start getting acquainted to him too. you had advertised needing a roommate to help pay for rent. you weren't expecting a response so quick but jungwon jumped at the oppertunity and you didn't mind as long as he was clean and not a freak (at least one of those things is true.)

so there is born a new friendship, and roommate-ship between you and jungwon. you guys would hang out sometimes, often eating dinner together and watching a movie since you both got home from work or school around the same time. you kept to yourself a lot, not that he minded since he did too. but one day he asked if it was okay for him to bring friends over, which you happily allowed. that was the day you met Jay and a couple of his other friends. while he hung out with all of them, he hung out with Jay the most.

usually when he had his friends over, you stayed in your room, not wanting to bother them. sometimes they'd bring food back for you to which you were very thankful and you would eat with them. then you'd retreat back to your room for the rest of the night. you didn't know that you had caught Jay's eye. one time after eating dinner with them, you went back to your room like normal, thanking them for the food.

"yo, you ever hit that?"

cue jungwon almost choking on his food.

"what??? thats my roommate Jay, no."

"what? she's hot. can I have her if you won't?"

"I guess? i don't think she wants you though. she would've mentioned to me if she did."

jungwon had never seen you in that way before, but after seeing how Jay was talking about getting with you, he'd start to notice you a bit more. how smooth your legs always looked. how full your chest looked in your shirt. how nice your thighs and ass looked in those leggings. how it was so hard for him to control his boner around you. he wanted to curse Jay for bringing your sexiness to his attention. he never acted on it though. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or worse, be kicked out of the apartment. that didn’t stop Jay from making comments about you to him every so often.

༄ ༄ ༄

there’s one weekend where Jungwon was going to go on a trip with his friends. they were only going to be a couple hours away and they even invited you out as well, but you declined, preferring a relaxing weekend alone instead. of course they respected your wishes and left soon after. a little bit into their drive away, Jay realizes that he has left his wallet in Jungwon’s room and needed to go back to get it. they all head back and wait in the car while Jungwon and Jay go back inside.

you, having been home alone for about 30 minutes by now, didn’t know that they would be coming back. you wasted no time taking off your pants, finally being able to touch yourself without needing to hold back your moans. naturally due to your little whines and grunts, you don’t hear the front door open.

your noises alert the two males, going to check on you to make sure you’re fine before finally heading out. since you were home alone you felt no need to close your bedroom door, which just so happened to be down the hall from Jungwon’s. one peek inside your room was all it took for them to realize what was going on, you frozen in place like a deer in headlights.

they look at each other, Jungwon holding a shocked expression while Jay’s is the opposite, a crooked smirk appearing on his face.

“my, my, look what we have here.”

shocked and embarrassed can’t even begin to describe your emotions right now. your whole face is flushed red, body limp yet frozen, too shocked to even try to cover yourself up.

“w-what are you guys doing here?”

finally coming to, you grab the blanket closest to you, throwing it over your lower half to cover yourself. Jay’s smirk doesn’t fade as he walks up to you.

“no need to cover yourself up darling, we’ve already seen the goods.”

you didn’t want to admit how extremely hot you found Jay. despite the embarrassment you were currently feeling, a new wave of need was hitting you with every step closer he took. he would trace his fingers over your arm, which was still under the blanket as you were using it to get off. he would look back over to Jungwon whose sporting a painfully obvious boner.

“look at Jungwon, he’s hard from just seeing you like this. maybe you could help us out?”

you look between the two men, confused and turned on beyond belief. Jay helps your nerves, beckoning Jungwon over before placing a hand under your chin, tilting your head to the side so he has better access to you neck. once you feel his lips on your neck, you throw your head back, gasps leaving you mouth the closer her gets to your sweet spot.

Jungwon is on the other side of you, nervous as he reaches his hands around your waist, feeling up your curves and chest. you relax into their touch, getting off on the attention they're giving you as your hand resumes its previous task, 2 fingers delving in and out of your hole.

"such a dirty girl, getting off to the two of us touching you"

Jay tsks, replacing your hand with his own, using two of his fingers to help you out. Jungwon, pent up already, pulls his pants down to reveal his raging boner, tip red and angry. you waste no time wrapping your wet fingers around his length, slowly pumping as he sighs out of relief. Jungwon entangles his hands in your hair, leaning down to capture your lips as Jay continues his movements, following your neck as you kiss Jungwon.

you moan as Jay hits a particular spot your short fingers normally have trouble reaching, gasping into Jungwon's mouth as you pump him faster. Jay's nibbling at your neck, increasing his speed as he feels your walls clench around his fingers. you can't help the gush of liquid that comes out of you, soaking the blanket and Jay's hand.

"fuck, you're so hot"

you pull away from Jungwon to kiss Jay, hand pumping faster on Jungwon as he bucks his hips into your hand, pinching and playing with your nipples under your shirt. your moans don't stop, and that keeps them both going as Jay whips the blanket off of you. both men climb into the bed with you. you pull away from Jay as Jungwon helps you take your shirt off, placing your hand back on his length as soon as you're free from the material. Jay takes his pants off in the meantime, watching your tits bounce freely out of the shirt.

"mind if I have her first Won? I've been waiting for this,"

you look up at him, eyes pleading with him to just be in you already. Jungwon nods his head at the older, biting back moans as he tries not to cum just yet. Jay repositions himself to be in between your legs, lifting one of them up onto his shoulder as he rubs his tip against your folds, lubing himself up with your slick.

"ready baby girl?"

you nod like a madman, ready to have him fully inside you. you turn your head to jungwon, seeing his eyes screw shut as he's on the brink of release, and you pull your hand away. the loud whine from his throat is proabably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

"mouth..."

is all you can muster before Jungwon gets the memo, kneeling before you, inching his cock into your open mouth as Jay finally pushes in. the simultaneous moans from the 3 of you are loud, echoing throughout the house. you're trying your best to suck him off at this angle, drool spilling past your lips and down your chin, making its way down the rest of his length. Jay's pounding into you, soft at first but gradually getting more rough as you adjust to his size. the added finger rubbing your clit has you bucking your hips into his thrusts, and your mouth taking Jungwon in deeper.

your orgasms are all quickly approaching, not really trying to hold back as the pleasure grows too much for the 3 of you. Jungwon cums first and harder than you had expected, having denied his orgasm once before. you almost choke trying to swallow his load, scooping up any of his cum that slipped past your lips back into your mouth, savoring every last drop.

you cum next, moaning loud as your hips push into Jay's thrusts, walls fluttering around his length, causing him to release inside of you. you struggle to catch your breath as Jungwon pulls you into another kiss, relaxing a bit as Jay helps you ride out your orgasm. they both pull away from your spent body, exchanging looks before switching spots.

"w-what are you guys doing?'

you're half delirious, confused as to whats going on.

"I had my turn, now it's Jungwon's turn to be in you."

he turns to Jungwon,

"she's so tight, its the best feeling ever."

Jungwon smirks, confidence coursing through his body as he sees how exhausted you look.

"I can't wait,"

he positions himself between your legs, already hard again at the thought of being in you finally. he winces as he brings his tip up to your wet slit that's leaking both yours and Jay's cum, still a little sensitive from his prior release.

"please, it's too much... s-sensitive..."

your broken words only fuel him more.

"you can take a little more for us can't you?"

Jay says, smiling up at Jungwon, who finally pushes himself into your walls. Jungwon runs his hands up and down your body, soothing you of your overstimulation, Jay reaching his hand down to toy with your clit yet again. you buck your hips into them, so fucked out that you fail to produce a moan, mouth hanging open. Jay looks at you, taking his finger that were previously on your clit and bringing them up to your mouth.

"suck."

he commands. your eyes are rolled back into your head as you close your mouth on his fingers, coating his fingers with your saliva as he brings his free hand down to pump his length. your orgasm is approaching quickly as Jungwon continues to bully your hole. he can tell by the way you're frantically bucking your hips to meet his thrusts, losing your pace as spill all over him.

Jay's hands are moving quick on himself, cumming all over your pelvis and stomach as he empties himself. Jungwon takes the chance to bring both of your legs over his shoulders, pounding relentlessly as he's on the verge of cumming. the pleasure is slowly being replaced by pain, the overstimulation becoming too much. Jay can see the way your face contorts, releasing his fingers from your mouth and placing soft kisses on your neck.

"just a little more baby, hang on a little longer."

you nod, too fucked out to properly comprehend what his words mean. its at that point when Jungwon's hips finally stall, ropes of cum painting your walls as he empties every last drop in you. he pulls out slowly, and you whine, half at the loss of feeling full and half out of relief. he watches as the cum from all 3 of you slowly spills out, taking his finger and pushing it back into you. you arch your back and moan and the boys look at each other, smiling and laughing at your spent state.

they both lay on either side of you, silent and breath ragged as you all try to calm down. the air is heavy with the smell of sex but comforting nonetheless. once you've come back to your senses, you look at the 2 boys, remembering the trip they were supposed to go on.

"what are you guys doing here? i thought you were supposed to be on your trip?"

they look at each other, first looking scared realizing that they left their friends waiting outside for them, but then laughing.

"Jay left his wallet here so we came back to get it. they probably drove off without us already because we were taking too long."

Jungwon shrugs, getting up to grab his phone to check the many messages from their group chat confirming exactly what he said.

"whatever. we can go on another trip whenever we want. but this is more fun, right Y/N?"

you look at Jay, laughing at his implications, not yet worrying about what all this between the 3 of you could mean. they both look at you, smiling fondly at your next words.

"round 2?"

༄ ༄ ༄

JayWon have been WRECKING me these days! this ask was just scrumptious 🤤

#starrihan #enhypen #enhypen smut #enha #enha smut #jay #park jay #park jeongseong #park jeongseong smut #jay smut #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon smut #yang jungwon smut #jay x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #kpop #kpop smut

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ok8oriska · 3 days ago

Text

what's it going to take

remus lupin x reader | remus wants you back

If you’re being honest, this party is a total drag.

Your friends dragged you out tonight because you needed “fresh air”. Like you’re getting any in here. It’s a room full of people, and you’re pretty sure Frank and some of the boys are smoking pot down the hall.

You have half a mind to join them, desperate for a distraction. But being inebriated would cause you to lose all sense of yourself, and the last thing you want right now is to make a scene. You start rethinking all that nonsense when you catch sight of Remus on the couch with Emmeline.

Your lovely boy. Well, he’s not yours anymore, he made sure of that. He’s sitting there leaning in so he can talk into her ear. He’s flirtatious by nature so your stomach doesn’t drop until she laughs and moves her hand to his thigh. He catches you staring.

That’s when you decide you need air, heading outside to catch your breath. You thought what you guys had had was once in a lifetime, and maybe it was. Maybe that’s why it was so fleeting. Your heart sinks. You’re about to leave altogether when someone comes outside to join you.

Probably Sirius for a smoke, you think, until you turn around and there he is. Remus.

“You alright?” He asks as if this whole situation is nonchalant.

“Just gearing up to head out,” you reply. He nods.

“It’s nice to-“

“Can I ask you something personal?” you interject. You decide to rip the band-aid off.

He nods, “Of course.”

“How did you move on from me so quickly?” You can’t look at him when you say it, feeling stupid the second the words leave your mouth.

“What are you talking about?” He seems confused, but you can’t tell if it's just an act to avoid hurting your feelings or if he’s being genuine.

“I only want to know because maybe whatever you did will work for me, too,” you continue, meeting his incredulous gaze.

“Who said anything about me being over you?” he asks, and your throat dries out.

You sputter, “You just seem to be moved on, is all.”

“Is this about Emmeline? She’s just a friend; she gets a little handsy when she’s had a drink or two, but it’s all friendly,” he insists.

“Remus, you don’t have to defend yourself. You broke up with me, remember? It’s fine, I just,” you sigh. “I can’t keep loving you if we’re over.”

Remus crossed his arms, “ Well maybe I don’t want to be over.”

“What?”

“I want to be with you.”

You’re frustrated now. Dizzy from the whiplash, “Then why did you break up with me?”

“I wasn’t thinking it just,” he pauses, dropping his gaze, “I just got overwhelmed by the prospect of my heart being in your hands. I’ve never given someone that much control before.”

“Well, my heart was in your hands, too, did you ever think of that?” you retort, sharp as a knife.

“I know now, dove, I was unfair to you, and I’m sorry, but don’t think that I ever stopped loving you for a second,” he looks up, eyes boring into yours.

“Well, fuck,” you say, throwing your hands up. “That just makes it all better then.”

He chuckles lightly against his better judgment. If this were a movie, he’d yell at the screen, telling you you deserve better. “Never go back,” he’d shout. But instead, he’s standing in front of you about ready to get on his knees and beg.

“Remus,” you start, “Don’t fuck around with me.”

“I’m not. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

You sigh. “I don’t know if I can go back to how things were.”

He takes a step closer to you, impossibly so, his hands finding purchase on your biceps. “I’m willing to be yours in any way that you’ll have me.”

You drop your head to his chest, groaning. “Don’t get all lovey-dovey on me now.”

He laughs, and you feel it in your skull. “You bring out the worst in me.”

#marauders #marauders x y/n #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #x reader #harry potter #marauders x reader #marauders x you #ok8oriska #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #x you #x you fluff #fluff #the marauders #x y/n #x y/n fluff #x reader fluff

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seongwars · 2 days ago

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𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 | 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Pairing: Viscount!Choi San x Countess!Reader AU: non-idol | regency Rating: T/NC-17 Summary: After falling prey to one of Choi San’s cruel games, you vowed yourself to a life of eternal spinsterhood. But when a fire leaves the Choi estate in ruins, the very man you swore you would never forgive re-enters your life. Word Count: 6K Warnings: angst if you squint, mentions of hunting, not really proofread, inaccurate depictions of the era (sorry history buffs 😭)

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a/n: thank yunho's tiddie for getting this chapter across the finish line

“I need to speak with you,” you hissed to your brother as you approached the group of other hunters. Yeosang turned, one hand steadying the reins of his horse, his expression shifting from curiosity to mild annoyance at your tone.

“Can this wait? The hunt is about to start,” he said, gesturing subtly toward the assembled group. Riders were mounting their horses, hounds were being corralled ahead and the air alive with murmurs of anticipation.

“No,” you snapped, grabbing his arm before he could brush you off. “Not when it might involve our family.”

“Alright.” He exhaled through his nose, glancing briefly at the others before steering you aside, away from prying eyes and ears. The cluster of hunters faded into the background as the two of you walked briskly toward the edge of the field.

“What’s this about?”

You glanced over your shoulder, scanning the group of hunters in the distance to make sure no one was within earshot.

“I overheard something while I was in the stables,” you began, your chest tightening as you replayed the conversation. “There were a few stablehands talking about the fire at the Choi estate. I don’t think it was an accident.”

“That’s a bold claim,” he said, narrowing his eyes. He studied your face carefully, searching for any trace of exaggeration. As a child your wild imagination had driven your tutors to the brink, and even now, you could tell that your brother wasn’t fully convinced.

“Yeosang, I wouldn’t be telling you if I wasn’t! They said whoever burned the estate was paid off.”

“Paid off by who?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your tone tinged with frustration. “They didn’t say. But they did mention something else.” You hesitated, swallowing hard before you forced the words out.

“The Parks might be next.”

“The Parks?”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you saw the realization dawn in his eyes. “Look, whoever’s behind this isn’t just going after one family—they’re working their way through the ton. Who isn’t to say that we’d be next.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you heard? Not just some stablehands gossiping about nonsense?”

“I know what I heard,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze with conviction.

“There were three of them, they sounded nervous, like they knew something they shouldn’t!”

Yeosang sighed. “If what you’re saying is true, we need more than just words. We need proof.”

At his words, your shoulders slumped, the determination you had clung to crumbling under the cold weight of reality. Proof. Of course, he was right. But where were you supposed to find it? How could you, when the rules of your world kept you firmly under watch, always one step away from being dismissed as nothing more than a hysterical woman with an overactive imagination? Especially a spinster, nonetheless.

You opened your mouth to protest, to beg him to take action now instead of waiting, but before you could speak, the call of the hunt master’s horn reverberated through the air, signaling the start of the chase.

Yeosang’s head snapped toward the sound, and his brow furrowed. “The hunt is starting,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. He glanced back at you, his expression softening slightly.

“We’ll revisit this later.”

You inhaled deeply, willing yourself to swallow your frustration. “Fine,” you said curtly, your voice clipped as you forced the word out.

Yeosang gave you a small nod before turning to mount his horse. You trudged back to the stablehand, who was holding Darcy ready for you. You swung yourself into the saddle and adjusted your grip on the reins before departing with the rest of the riders.

The party moved smoothly into action, the steady rhythm of galloping hooves and excited murmurs weaving through the forest as they ventured deeper into the woods. From the treetops birds, startled by the thundering hooves, scattered as the scent of earth filled the air.

Yunho rode just ahead of you, his posture effortlessly confident, flanked by your brother and Park Seonghwa. The group was focused, each rider scanning the dense underbrush with sharp eyes and heightened senses, poised to react at the slightest hint of movement.

The pace of the group slowed as they approached a small clearing, the riders fanning out to search for any signs of movement in the brush. You guided your horse forward, keeping to the edge of the group, scanning the treeline intensely.

“Miss Kang,” a voice drawled.

You wrinkled your nose and tightened your grip on the reins. Who was this man? What was his name again? Did it even matter? Probably not.

“Surely this isn’t the place for someone as delicate as you,” he continued condescendingly. “Shouldn’t you leave the hunt to the men? A lady like you has no business out here.”

“Indeed,” his companion chimed in. “Perhaps you’d allow one of us to escort you back to the manor. It would be such a shame if you were startled by the prey, or worse, injured.”

Your jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, you considered playing the role of the delicate lady. But who are you kidding? You’re the daughter of the late Earl Kang.

“Forgive me, gentlemen,” you said, voice thick with mock sincerity. “I didn’t realize children were allowed on this hunt.”

One of them bristled, his nostrils flaring, no doubt ready to retaliate with some clever insult. But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out, only a stuttered breath. The second man’s reaction was quicker, though not any less telling. He adjusted his gloves, a futile attempt to reassert his dignity after your jab as if that alone could restore his pride.

San, standing just behind you, let out a soft snort of amusement, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold.

The man scoffed, clearing his throat. “There’s no shame in recognizing one’s limitations,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as though waiting for you to cower.

“Ah, so you have recognized yours,” you shot back smoothly. “Admission is the first step to improvement.”

“Why you–”

“Is there a problem?”

Yunho’s horse appeared at your side, his usually warm, playful demeanor completely gone. In its place was something colder and dangerous. His head tilted slightly, the subtle movement more menacing than any overt threat. It was a warning, a reminder that he wasn’t someone to trifle with.

Muttering excuses to themselves, they retreated to a safer distance, throwing one last, half-hearted glare in your direction before disappearing down the trail.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded curtly, but the tension bristling between San and Yunho made your irritation flare. They didn’t need to shield you like this, not from every little interaction.

“I appreciate the gesture gentlemen, but I’m fine,” you huffed.

Men, you thought irritably. Always so dramatic.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your posturing, but the hounds have picked up a scent,” Yeosang called, his tone dry as he pulled up beside you on his horse.

The horses shifted restlessly, sensing the change in atmosphere, their hooves stamping against the earth. Norman barked once, his tail wagging eagerly as he waited for your command.

You swung down from your horse in one fluid motion, landing lightly on the ground. “Norman, to me,” you ordered.

The fox terrier obeyed immediately, bounding to your side, his nose twitching as he caught the trail of the beast. A flurry of motion erupted as a fox darted from the underbrush, its red coat flashing in the sunlight as it bolted toward the far side of the clearing.

The hounds sprang to life, their barks rising in excitement as they surged forward, noses to the ground. Riders shouted commands to their mounts, urging them into motion, the clearing erupting into chaos.

You wasted no time charging forward after Norman, who was already disappearing into the brush. The sound of pounding hooves and snapping branches filled the air as you pushed ahead. The shouts and hoofbeats of the others faded behind you, swallowed by the thick forest as you slowed Darcy to a halt near a narrow stream, dismounting quickly as Norman paused to sniff the air.

“Good boy,” you murmured, patting Darcy’s neck before tying his reins to a low-hanging branch.

The fox’s trail was fresh, and Norman was eager, his nose glued to the ground as he tracked it toward the underbrush. You followed him on foot, your boots crunching softly against the forest floor. The stillness of the woods wrapped around you, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and Norman’s occasional barks. You were alone now, the rest of the party far behind, but you welcomed the solitude.

Or so you thought.

⊹

You cast another glance over your shoulder, now thoroughly exasperated, and picked up your pace again. San, undeterred, matched your strides easily, his legs longer than yours.

“Why are you following me?” you snapped, whipping around to fully face him.

“I’m not following you,” San replied smoothly, his tone light but with a teasing edge.

“I’m following Norman.”

The words had slipped out before he could stop them, and for a second, San faltered, wondering if he’d gone too far. The last thing he wanted was to dig himself deeper into the mess he’d already made. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to turn this into another jab, but his instinct for banter had betrayed him.

Did you really think he was just trying to irritate you? Probably. But the truth was, San missed this, missed you. Missed the way your quick wit always kept him on his toes, how you never backed down from a verbal sparring match. It was the only way he knew how to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

You huffed, turning away with an incredulous shake of your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath.

“Y/N?”

You froze, glancing over your shoulder to see San emerging from the thicket, his horse nowhere in sight. His dark hair was disheveled, strands sticking to his forehead, and his jacket was dusted with leaves and dirt.

His horse was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

He hesitated, glancing around the clearing as if searching for an answer. “Just… making sure the others aren’t bothering you,” he said, his voice casual but not entirely convincing.

You sighed, crossing your arms.

“It’s not my fault the forest looks the same from every direction!”

You didn’t need San’s company, didn’t want it, even, but for now, you had no choice but to tolerate it. And if his sense of direction caused you any more trouble, you’d have no qualms about leaving him behind.

“I could shoot you here, and no one would hear it,” you declared flatly as San tailed you.

“I’d expect nothing less from you,” he replied, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, resuming your focus on Norman, who was sniffing diligently at the ground ahead. The hound’s tail wagged as he caught onto a stronger scent, oblivious to the tension brewing behind him.

Norman barked sharply, drawing your attention. He darted forward, his nose glued to the ground, and you quickly followed, stepping over a fallen log as you trailed him deeper into the woods.

The trail grew narrower, the canopy above thickening until only slivers of sunlight broke through. Norman led the way, his excitement palpable, while San followed close behind, occasionally glancing around as if trying to memorize the route, though you suspected it wouldn’t help him in the slightest.

His footsteps crunched softly against the forest floor as he kept pace a few steps behind you. Neither of you spoke, but you were keenly aware of his presence, and it irritated you more than you cared to admit.

“The forest is quieter here than I expected,” he said, his tone casual.

You didn’t look back. “That’s how forests work.”

“Right.” He paused, then added, “Still, it’s nice. Peaceful, in a way.”

You huffed a noncommittal sound, keeping your eyes fixed ahead as Norman barked excitedly. He darted toward a cluster of dense underbrush, his body low to the ground as if ready to pounce.

“Norman, hold!” you commanded sharply, stepping forward to grab his collar before he could move any closer.

The terrier froze, ears pricked, gazing at you in confusion. You crouched, parting the brush to uncover the source of his alertness: a small den nestled beneath the roots of a massive tree, concealed by a tangle of brambles and leaves. Inside, tiny, wiggling shapes huddled together—fox kits.

Their tiny bodies were pressed together for warmth, and one stirred, its ears twitching as it let out a small, sleepy yawn before nestling back into the pile.

San crouched beside you, his expression softening as he observed the scene. “They’re just babes,” he murmured.

You nodded, tightening your grip on Norman. The hound stood tense, muscles coiled, awaiting a command to chase. Yet he remained obedient, ears twitching at the soft sounds of the kits shifting.

“Come,” you said, your voice quieter now. “We’re turning back.”

The forest around you was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant baying of hounds further ahead. The rest of the hunting party would be expecting you soon, no doubt already boasting of their own triumphs.

“Before I forget…” San cleared his throat, shifting slightly as he walked beside you. You caught the way his fingers curled into the fabric of his coat before he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I wanted to thank you for covering for me the other day. You know, the fountain incident.”

Ah, yes. How could you possibly forget?

Your precious fox terrier had decided without warning that the fountain was the perfect place for a swim. In your futile attempt to retrieve him, you lost you balance and found yourself tumbling head first into the fountain and into the arms of your arch nemesis.

“The maids were going to assume that regardless,” you said flatly, giving him a withering look.

“I had to preserve some dignity.”

“R-Right.” San cleared his throat.

It was bad enough that he was in such close proximity to you, close enough to catch the subtle scent of your perfume. Close enough to notice the way the sunlight spilled over you, forming a halo that made you seem almost untouchable.

But worse than that?

Worse was the fact that his heart was racing when it had no right to. When he had no right to you. Not after everything he had done. Not after the way he had broken you heart all those years ago.

You weren’t even looking at him. Not really. Your gaze was distant, unreadable, as if the past had been buried so deep that it no longer touched you. As if he no longer touched you.

But San?

San was drowning in everything he thought he had left behind.

You walked ahead, keeping your steps measured and controlled. San, however, lingered just behind you as you refused to acknowledge his presence.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. “It’s a lovely day.”

You hummed in vague agreement, not bothering to look at him. Undeterred, he tried again.

“The ton has been lively this season.”

“Has it?”

“Do you think your brother will find a match?”

“I did not realize you were interested in the affairs of the ton, Mr. Choi,” you replied flatly.

San let out a quiet chuckle. “Hardly. It’s just that there seem to be an abundance of bachelors this season.”

You froze. It was a harmless statement, just idle small talk, the kind of thing anyone might say in passing. But it struck something deep in you, like an old wound reopening.

Was he implying that he was one of them? That he still held the ton in the palm of his hand, effortlessly sought after, endlessly desired? Was this his way of boasting? Of reminding you how highly he was regarded, how easy it was for him to be admired?

You didn’t want to show it. You didn’t want to feel it. But there it was, crawling up your throat, clawing at your chest. You could hear it clearly now, echoing in the back of your mind—the words that had made you feel small. Insignificant.

Pathetic little wallflower.

Your fingers clenched at your sides.

San must have noticed the change in your expression because he tilted his head slightly, eyes flickering with genuine concern. “Is something the matter?”

“Why do you care?” You forced yourself to breathe, to suppress the bitterness rising in your throat.

“I was simply making conversation,” he replied carefully.

Your lips curled in a humorless smile. “Shall I applaud you, then? For once again securing your title as one of the ton’s most eligible bachelors?”

San’s eyes widened, and you could see the confusion in his face. He hadn’t expected this. But you didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t let him think for one second that his attempts at civility meant anything more than a poor effort to make himself feel better.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said carefully. “Apologies, Y/N, I–”

“Do you enjoy making a mockery of me, Mr. Choi?” you interrupted, your voice cold and clipped.

San stiffened. “No, that’s not—”

“Then why else would you feel the need to remind me how desirable you remain? How you are still sought after, still admired, while my prospects ended the moment you decided I was nothing more than a means to an end?”

San flinched, as if your words had struck him harder than any physical blow. He opened his mouth, perhaps to defend himself, to explain, but you didn’t wait to hear it.

“Do not act as though you are granting me a favor by speaking to me now,” you continued, voice unyielding.

“Not when you have already shown me that I am not worth courting, let alone marrying.”

You turned sharply and stormed off with your pulse pounding in your ears. Every step you took felt like it was pulling you further from the mess of emotions San had stirred in you. It was easier to leave him standing bewildered than to waste another second trying to make sense of his half-hearted apology, one that he probably thought would absolve him of everything.

Norman trotted quietly beside you, occasionally glancing up as if to check that you were truly alright. But in your anger, you didn’t notice the gnarled tree root sticking up from the ground.

Your foot caught, and you stumbled forward, landing hard on your hands and knees. Pain shot through your ankle as you hissed in pain, clutching it as you tried to push yourself up, only for the ache to intensify.

“Y/N!” San was there in an instant, his hands reaching for you. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t need your help,” you cut him off.

You straightened as much as you could, leaning heavily on your uninjured leg. Norman whined, nudging your arm, but you exhaled sharply and took a step forward, biting back the pain.

San hovered behind you, watching, but he didn’t dare reach for you again.

And you didn’t look back.

The last thing you wanted right now was to be anywhere near him and you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you so vulnerable and hurt.

“She has sustained a twisted ankle, but it is nothing life threatening. She’ll need to be on bed rest for the next few days,” Dr. Song said, rolling his sleeves down.

You groaned, flopping back against the pillows as your mother flitted about the room, shooting worried glances between you and the doctor as though you had been delivered a death sentence rather than a minor injury.

“Y/N!”

You felt the gazes of the hunting party on you as you made your way to the clearing with San’s gaze into the back of your head. Yeosang had rushed over, barking interrogations at San.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded.

Yunho, however, was focused only on you. He stepped closer, his brows furrowed in concern as his gaze swept over your face.

“You’re hurt,” he stated, his voice quieter than the others but no less insistent.

“Oh, well I didn’t realize,” you muttered sarcastically. “What ever would I do without your keen observations, your grace?”

Before you could brush him off, he was already moving, his hands gentle but firm as he guided you toward a fallen log at the edge of the clearing. You barely had a moment to protest before he was kneeling before you, one hand steadying your calf while the other carefully unlaced your boot. Yunho’s jaw tightened slightly as he turned your foot with the utmost care, his fingertips ghosted over the tender skin just above your ankle.

“It’s swelling,” he muttered. “Why didn’t Mr. Choi help you?”

You hesitated.

What good would it do? Complaining about San wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t undo how he had to remind you that you were undesirable while he was the jewel of the season. If it were possible for rakes to be jewels.

“It doesn’t hurt as bad as when I fell on it,” you said, keeping your tone light. “I just needed a moment to walk it off.”

He shook his head, exasperated but unsurprised, before lifting you up on to his horse.

“You’re not taking another step.”

From a distance, San tuned out Yeosang’s demands. His gaze remained locked onto you and Yunho, watching as the duke carefully adjusted the reins in your hands, his arm brushing against yours in a gesture that was both natural and infuriatingly intimate.

“You expect me to believe you left her alone in the woods?” Yeosang demanded, disbelief sharpening his tone. His gaze flicked over San, searching for any tell, any sign of guilt. He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer.

“San.”

“She said she was fine,” he snapped back, his expression unreadable. “Who am I to argue?”

Yeosang scoffed, unimpressed. “Fine? She was limping, you absolute bastard.” He crossed his arms and flexed his jaw.

San’s gaze flickered back to you, just as Yunho murmured something too soft for anyone else to hear, drawing a small, reluctant smile from you. His grip on his riding gloves tightened slightly.

“If anyone hears she was alone with you—injured, no less—you know what they’ll assume,” Yeosang said, his voice steely. “

A scandal of that magnitude would leave her no choice but to marry you. And we both know that’s the last thing she’d ever want.”

You stifled the urge to groan again, but when your mother turned toward the door to see Dr. Song out, an idea struck. If she was going to make a spectacle of your injury, why not use it to your advantage?

If you were stuck here at Yunho’s estate, left alone while everyone else fretted over the logistics of your recovery, perhaps you could finally set your plan into motion. A perfect excuse to slip away unnoticed, to uncover the truth behind the fire and to put as much distance between you and San.

It was perfect.

You let out a soft, pitiful whimper, shifting slightly against the pillows as if the movement sent a wave of pain through you. Pressing a hand to your ankle, you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Ah—Mother!” you said, feigning discomfort. “It really hurts.”

After all, the mystery arsonist wasn’t going to wait for you to heal.

She spun back around in an instant, eyes widening with alarm. “Oh, my Y/N!” she cried, hurrying to your side.

“Dr. Song said it wasn’t serious, but perhaps he underestimated the pain. Should I call for him again? Do you need more pillows? Something for the pain?”

You resisted the urge to smirk. Instead, you winced for good measure, leaning your head back against the pillows. “No…no, I’ll be fine,” you sighed dramatically.

“I just need to rest. Perhaps… some ink and parchment and…possibly a bell for my needs.”

“Of course, darling,” she said, smoothing a hand over your forehead before standing. “I’ll make sure everything is taken care of.”

As she hurried out of the room, rattling off instructions to the servants, you finally allowed a small, satisfied smile to slip through. You adjusted your pillows, propping yourself up just enough to comfortably reach the desk beside your bed. The servant who entered moments later placed a fresh stack of parchment and a well-trimmed quill on the surface, bowing slightly before retreating without a word.

Perfect.

You dipped the quill into the ink, tapping it lightly against the rim of the inkwell before pressing the tip to the page before scrawling out the possibilities.

Revenge? Perhaps the Chois had enemies, as did most noble families. But servants? What threat did they pose? The person who burned down the manor was a paid servant, disgruntled enough to take the money for the job. You leaned back, exhaling slowly. Whoever was behind this wasn’t just wiping out a family—they were sending a message.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. You needed to find the stablehands from the hunt as they had been the last to handle the horses, the ones who would have seen who came and went, who might have noticed something others had overlooked. But how would you track them down?

You had no names, no descriptions, only the knowledge that they had been there that day. If they had been hired specifically for the event, they could be long gone by now, taking work where they could. And if they had belonged to a particular house, you’d have to sift through the web of noble connections, hoping to find out who had brought their own staff and who had relied on the host’s.

You leaned forward, staring at the notes before you, willing an answer to appear. Think.

And then it hit you.

A slow grin spread across your face as the idea took shape. If you asked your brother to casually inquire with Yunho about the hunt, he might be able to get you the information you needed without raising suspicion.

Yunho would know exactly who had attended, whether they had brought their own stablehands or if all the workers had been part of his staff. And if any unfamiliar names cropped up, ones that didn’t belong to the usual estate workers…then you had your trail.

Now all that was left was convincing your brother to play along. You exhaled, already bracing yourself for the argument to come as you grabbed the bell the maid had brought for you.

“No.”

“Please.”

Yeosang sighed, dragging a hand over his face. The last few hours had been nothing short of a whirlwind—between your injury and your mother’s insistence that the family remain at your side, declaring you far too frail to travel, he had barely caught a moment’s rest.

He had done his best to steer clear of your mother, but, of course, you had a way of pulling him into the chaos. His gaze flickered to the bell on your nightstand, the one you had requested, supposedly to communicate with the staff. He had half expected you to ignore it, assuming you had only asked for it to be difficult.

"You do realize you are asking me to procure information that, if traced back to you, could land you in even greater trouble?"

You gave him a pointed look. "Which is precisely why it must come from you and not me."

He dragged a hand down his face. "Unbelievable."

"So, you’ll do it?" you pressed.

“No.”

You huffed, crossing your own arms in a mirrored stance. "Yunho is your dearest friend. He could not possibly suspect you of ill intent!"

"That is precisely why this is a terrible idea. He knows me too well."

"Yeosang, please," you implored, lowering your voice. "I need to know who the stablehands were that day. If there is any hope of uncovering the truth, it lies with them."

Your brother remained still, his gaze unreadable as he studied you in the dim glow of the room. The fire crackled softly behind him, casting flickers of light that did little to ease the tension settling between you.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching at his sides as though fighting the urge to throw a cushion at you, to shake you from your stubbornness, from your ceaseless meddling in affairs that, in his mind, did not concern you.

And yet, this was his lot in life, was it not? The fate of an older brother to an eternal spinster, forever tasked with keeping you from bringing ruin upon yourself.

Still, Yeosang's hesitance was not born of fear. No, Yeosang had never been a coward. He was not afraid of what he might find; he was afraid of what it would mean, because once he set this course in motion, there would be no turning back.

"If I do this," he said slowly, "you swear that you will not act recklessly upon whatever you learn."

You straightened, meeting his stare unflinching. "I swear it."

⊹

You were reclining against the plush pillows of your bed, absentmindedly flipping through a book while your injured ankle was propped on a cushion. The past day had been an exercise in patience, something you sorely lacked, but you consoled yourself with the knowledge that Yeosang had promised to obtain the information you needed. Soon, you would know the names of the stablehands present at the hunt.

So when the door creaked open and Yunho stepped inside, your heart leapt in anticipation.

“Oh! Yunho!” You tossed aside the book resting in your lap and sat up a little straighter, smoothing the fabric of your dress in an attempt to look presentable. Not that it mattered—it was just Yunho.

“How is your ankle?” His gaze flickered briefly to where it was still propped up on a cushion as he pulled a chair closer to the bed.

“It’s fine,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “The swelling has receded.”

You tilted your head, a knowing smile creeping onto your lips. “What brings you here?”

This was it.

He had the list. He had to. Yeosang had spoken with him—hadn’t he? Yunho had come all this way, personally, and he looked… serious. Hesitant, even. This was the moment where he confirmed what you already knew: Yeosang had done as he was supposed to.

“Well…Yeosang mentioned something to me earlier.”

Your stomach coiled in anticipation.

“Yes?” you prompted, doing your best to appear patient despite the way your pulse quickened.

Yunho met your gaze.

“Would you be interested in attending the opera with me?”

You blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. What?

“Of course, after your ankle has healed,” he added smoothly, as if that clarified anything.

“…I beg your pardon?”

“I was surprised too,” Yunho admitted, mistaking your complete and utter bewilderment for embarrassment. “But Yeosang seemed certain, and I thought…well, I thought you might allow me to accompany you.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then it opened again. Your mind struggled to process what was happening.

Yeosang had what?

“There’s no need to worry about seating,” Yunho continued, evidently taking your silence as hesitation rather than abject shock.

“I’ll secure us a private box. The performance is in a few weeks’ time.”

That traitor. That absolute menace of a brother who only had one task.

Was this what he had been doing while you were here, anxiously waiting for actual information? Spinning elaborate tales about your supposed lack of a love life? To Yunho of all people?

You could already picture the scene: your brother, lounging without a care in the world, weaving whatever nonsense he pleased while Yunho sat there, soaking it all in like it was the most entertaining thing he’d heard in weeks.

“That… sounds lovely,” you finally managed, smiling tightly. You weren’t entirely sure how to feel about his invitation, but before you could dwell on it further, Yunho shifted the conversation effortlessly.

“Before I forget,” he murmured, nodding to the maid standing by the door. She stepped forward, presenting him with a parcel wrapped in simple brown paper. He made quick work of the string, letting the paper fall away to reveal its contents. Your initial skepticism was quickly replaced by genuine surprise.

Nestled within the packaging were beautifully bound sheets of music, their once vibrant edges slightly worn, as if they had traveled through time itself. Your breath caught as you gingerly flipped through the compositions, your fingers tracing the delicate notes written by a hand long gone. The music was intricate, sophisticated, far more than anything you had ever expected from one of Yunho’s usual "finds."

“Where on earth did you find this?” you asked, marveling at the notes.

Yunho’s playful demeanor softened as he watched your reaction, clearly pleased with himself.

“A merchant from Italy was docked at the port,” he explained, leaning back in his seat.

You raised an eyebrow, still flipping through the pages. “Is that so?”

“Well,” Yunho admitted with a sheepish grin, “I may have mentioned I was looking for some rare items for a friend who appreciates these sorts of things. He showed me his collection, and when I saw the quality, I couldn’t leave without bringing some of it back for you.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, admiring the careful preservation of the compositions. And then—your touch faltered.

Something was wedged between the pages.

Frowning, you carefully pried apart two sheets of music, revealing a neatly folded slip of parchment tucked within. Your pulse quickened as you unfolded it, your eyes scanning the names meticulously inked in Yunho’s handwriting.

The list of attendees from the hunt.

Your breath stilled. The parchment crinkled slightly beneath your grip as the realization settled. It was a puzzle he had crafted for you to solve. He had hidden the list so cleverly, yet left it in a place only you would think to look.

Slowly, your gaze lifted to meet his. There was no smirk, no hint of mischief in his eyes. Instead, his expression was uncharacteristically earnest, like he had been waiting, hoping, for you to see what had been there all along.

"You little--," you chuckled, despite the flutter in your chest. The realization dawned upon you—this was more than just a simple invitation. "Yeosang never mentioned anything about the opera did he?"

A breath passed before he spoke again, softer this time. "Well? Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the opera, Miss Kang?”

There was no playfulness to soften the edges of the question. Just Yunho, waiting for an answer that seemed to mean far more than just one night at the opera.

Two | Four

a/n: yunho and san have more tension than reader and san at this point it should be a yunsan fic (now kithhh)

taglist: @e3ellie @scuzmunkie @syubseokie @sunnysidesins @notevenheretbh1 @litolmochi @intowxnderland @etaerealboy @foxinnie8 @sanriomilk @kang-ulzzang @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @vcutparis @ishz @park-simphwa @moonsanshine @drinkingrumandcocacola @matzofficial @mushy-mushroom04 @monsta-x-jagi @amoryeonjun @innocygnet @jaeyunlvrs @hwashiningstar @rachmmb @ffenjoyerdazme @shanabtsarmy @granolabar3000 @kawaikisses @hehetmons-flwr @starryunho @hwalighters @plum-stxr @kaituyyn @santineez @amazaynaastha @grandlightcandy @soso59love-blog @justsomekpopstuff @supportstudies @watermelonslut @Demondeansdomme @vixensss @atzlordz @swampbitch127 @ttrinie

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san #cromernet #ateez san #historical au #choi san x reader #choi san x you #ateez fic #regency era #regency au #san angst

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wooataes · 2 days ago

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Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part 11)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, all hurt no comfort, swearing, tears, the usual 🙂‍↕️

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been WAY too long since I've updated this story and I apologise for that 🙂‍↕️ I finally feel like I've gotten my life back on track to finally be able to post a long awaited update!! Thank you to everyone who still reads and enjoys my fics, it means a lot ! 🥹 - Tae 💜🌸✨

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“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“His girlfriend left him, genius. What do you think is wrong with him?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His housemates have as much subtlety as an earthquake. Their naturally loud voices seep through the closed door of his bedroom as he stares at his ceiling, a sigh leaving his lungs in the darkness as the outside voices drone on.

“Hyung,” Mingyu sighs. “It’s been over a week now… Should we call someone?”

“Who would we call?” Junhui retorts. “His soulmate? Because up until last week, I thought his soulmate was Ji-ah.”

The mention of her name creates another pit in Jihoon’s stomach. He hates it. He wishes he could just get over the stupid emotions that run through his veins at the mere thought of his not-soulmate, now also not-girlfriend.

“His parents are hours away and he has no siblings that we can contact.” Junhui continues, frustration laced in his voice. “I don’t know who we could call.”

“Doesn’t hyung have a cousin who-”

“I can hear everything you guys are saying. You know that, right?”

Jihoon’s hard voice carries through the door, his housemates falling silent on the other end.

“Jihoon-ah.” A deep voice mutters, causing him to tense up. He knows that Wonwoo knows how to get through to him. “Can we talk?”

After a long pause, Jihoon’s bedroom door slightly creaks open. “Wonwoo, I told you yesterday,” he stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with the older man. “I am fine-”

“You are not, Jihoon-ah. And we both know it.”

“How do you know?” He snips.

“You haven’t left your bedroom since Ji-ah left you last week.” Jihoon sucks his teeth at her name.

“I never left my bedroom before she left me.” He hisses back.

“Yes, you did.” Wonwoo retorts back.

“When? To go on dates with her?” he barks. “To take her out? To go visit her family? Well, guess what? She is gone, Wonwoo, so I have a whole lot more free time and I choose to spend that time at home.” his voice cracks slightly, bottom lip shaking as he moves to close the door once more, his frown deepening as Mingyu grabs a hold of the door before it closes.

“Hyung, we’re sorry.” Mingyu’s voice is softer now as he looks at him with sad eyes. “We’re so fucking sorry that you’re going through this but we are here for you and want to be there for you.”

“I don’t need-”

“Please don’t push us away.” Wonwoo frowns, his hand resting over Jihoons. “Jihoon-ah…”

Jihoon shakes his head quietly, a small hiccup leaving his lips. “Wonwoo, I promise, I’m fine.” He gently lets his hand fall from Wonwoo’s as he moves to shut the door to his bedroom once more, wiping the stray tears that threaten to spill from his eyes.

“I truly don’t know what to do, guys.” Jihoon winces at the defeated tone of his older housemate’s voice as he climbs back into the comfort of his bed once more, hoping to forget about the world around him for a little bit longer.

Jihoon heaves a loud sigh as he steps into his first Film Studies class in nearly two weeks, slumping down in his chair, rubbing at his temples slightly as Professor Park begins his usual droning on. He really should be listening to the lecture at hand, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he can feel the eyes of multiple people in the class lingering on him. He’s sure that word has gotten around now about his very public dumping and the fact that Ji-ah was obviously never his soulmate. He hates that he can feel the sympathy radiating off of his peers, and even off of you, his real soulmate, sitting directly beside him with your stupid perfect hair and stupidly neat notes that you wordlessly offered him to help catch him up on the classes he missed. He accepts them graciously, spending most of the lesson copying your notes into his notebook.

“Professor,” a deep voice from the back of the room calls out near the end of the lesson, drawing Jihoon from his thoughts.

“Yes, Jaebeom?”

Your soulmate glances at you at the sight of your body tensing up at the mention of the newcomer’s name. He tilts his head slightly as he feels nerves begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach from you, causing him to raise a brow. You take a slow breath before scribbling idly on your page again, indifference on your face, but Jihoon knows it’s a front.

Why are you so tense?

“About the extension on our group project?” Jaebeom’s voice lulls out in a drawl, a clear cockiness hidden in his tone.

“Ah yes,” Professor Park hums, nodding his head. “I know some of you have gone ahead and already submitted your essays and presentations to me, and I’m thankful for you guys for getting these to me on time and even earlier. For the remainder of you all who have yet to submit your projects, I’ve extended the deadline by two weeks, due to an unavoidable event I must attend.”

Jihoon hears his classmate’s sighs of relief, and in turn, he breathes out as well. He knew he had neglected his end of his project with you for the last week, and he feels grateful that he can make up for it.

“I do hope the rest of you,” Professor Park sends a look to the back of the room, “get this done in due time. Class dismissed.”

Jihoon wordlessly offers your notebook back to you, a frown forming on his face when he sees you duck your head, letting your hair fall over your face. He glances to see a taller man wearing low jeans and a beat up baseball cap on his head march- no, strut down the stairs to reach the door, sauntering out with what Jihoon can only describe as a sleazy grin on his face. Once he steps out of the room, you immediately collect your things, bow your head to Jihoon with a little smile, and jump up to leave the classroom.

“Professor,” your soulmate approaches the teacher. “I appreciate you extending the deadline-”

“Oh, Jihoon-ssi!” Professor Park smiled. “Are you feeling better? Miss Choi told me that you were unwell when she submitted your project to me last week.”

“Oh.. Yeah, I’m feeling alri- Wait. Submitted?” Jihoon blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Both of your arguments had wonderful points to pit against each other. Well done! I will be posting your grades in a few weeks!”

You finished off the project for him? Why are you so… nice?

“Uh… Thank you, Professor.” Jihoon bows his head in thanks before slowly stepping out of the classroom, starting to walk in the direction of home, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

Jihoon takes a deep sigh as he finds himself sitting down at the park bench that is so familiar to him now, letting the raindrops land on his clothes and face as he tilts his head back.

“Jihoon-ssi?” your voice is quiet over the sound of the loud rain, but Jihoon could hear you. He always does. He blinks as he feels the heavy raindrops that land on his hoodie abruptly stop, looking up to see a pastel umbrella being held over his now drenched body. “What are you doing out here?”

Jihoon shrugs quietly for a moment. “I… don’t know.” He glances down at the wet sleeves of his hoodie. “Just.. Thinking.”

“Well, I think you should think away from a torrential downpour next time,” you quip with a little smile, hoping the joke makes him crack a smile.

“Nah,” he hums. “It’s comforting, the rain..”

“Comforting?” You echo, tilting your head innocently as he hums a confirmation.

“Mm. Rain doesn’t have colour.” He glances at you for a moment, slightly amused by the cluelessness on your face as you just blink at him. “Ah, it’s silly, really,” he continues. “The sky doesn’t have colour when it rains, it reminds me of what the world looked like before everything changed. Everything is so different now.”

“You’re right.” You agree quietly. “Everything is different.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon mumbles after a brief silence. “For helping finish off the project while I was… y’know.”

“Oh, that?” You shrug. “That was nothing. You had all the arguments, I just articulated them for you. Figured that you already had enough on your plate so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I submitted a little early to get it out of the way for the both of us.”

“How do you do it?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“... Live.” Jihoon’s voice is barely above a whisper as you settle down on the park bench beside Jihoon, still holding the umbrella over his head. “How do you just live life so damn happily while you feel like absolute shit all the time? And don’t deny that you don’t, I have felt every single emotion you have felt for weeks now.”

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky before humming. “I suppose I just got used to it.” You shrug. “It kind of just became like a background noise for me. It’s just always there.”

“Even when the pain is doubled now? Because of me?”

You shrug once more. “It’s not something I haven’t dealt with before. I can feel the pain for both of us, Jihoon-ssi. It’s okay.” You give him a little smile. “I have had a lot more practice at loss than you have.”

Jihoon feels the irritation bubbling up inside him slowly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You blink in confusion as you glance at him. “Huh?”

“I have experienced loss too, you know.”

“I know that, I just-”

“I am more than capable of feeling these emotions too.” He frowns.

“I know,” you emphasize, “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to face them on your own.”

Jihoon scoffs quietly. Who does she think she is, giving him advice on how to deal with his emotions? “I know that too. You don’t need to point out the obvious, Choi.”

“Do you know that?” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what Mingyu told me, you’ve barely left your room until this week.”

“Ugh,” Jihoon groans, leaning his head back. “Am I not allowed to have time to myself?”

“Of course you are,” you sigh. “But you’re also-”

“You know, you should think about facing your emotions on your own instead of relying on everyone else around you.” Jihoon hisses at you with a glare as you freeze with wide eyes.

“H-huh?” He can feel your doubt seeping into his veins.

“Your brother, his soulmate, Soonyoung, Seokmin,” he rambles. “They’re always at your beck and call when they could be living their own lives with each other and not have to worry about you every five fucking minutes like you’re their child.”

“I…” You balk, Jihoon wincing at the feeling of your stomach twisting inside him. But he doesn't care, he wants you to hurt as much as he does. It’s your fault he doesn’t have Ji-ah anymore, afterall.

“Just go away!” He barks. “When will you realize that your help isn’t needed?! You’re not needed! I lost the one girl I truly fucking loved because of YOU! Why would I want you around?! Leave me alone already!”

After a long silence, Jihoon finally turns his head to look at you, staring at him for what seems like hours with the same look that you had on the day you brushed hands for the first time. That isn’t what frightens your soulmate, though. What frightens him is the fact that he can’t feel anything inside him anymore, besides his own pain.

“... sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” You mumble robotically, delicately placing the umbrella beside him before rising and walking through the heavy rain in the direction of your house, letting the rain run down your clothes.

“Fuck.” Jihoon sighs heavily and buries his face into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears your footsteps move further and further away.

He needs to apologize. He knows he does. He knows he said those words out of anger and hurt, and he knows you definitely didn’t deserve it.

But why can’t he find it in himself to go to you and do it? You’re literally two tables away from him right now.

Jihoon, he scolds himself, it’s been days. You need to man up and tell her you’re sorry.

Could he be worrying a little now because since he confronted you, he has felt no emotions whatsoever from you? Has he finally lost the tether from you?

“Hello you!!” A loud, cheery voice snaps him into reality. He blinks as he stares at his cup of ramen in his hand, fidgeting on the hard steel of the cafeteria chair underneath him, trying to figure out where the loud voice had come from.

Seungkwan makes his way over to where you’re sitting, draping himself over your back. Before he can ask how you are, you jolt up quickly, scooting away from him like you’ve been burned.

“Hey.” You give him a little smile, pressing yourself up against the wall. “Where’s Hansol? You should be with Hansol.”

Seungkwan’s face contorts slightly as he sticks his lips out in almost a pout. “He had to run to make his next class… Bug, what’s wrong-”

“I actually have to run too, Kwan.” You stammer out quickly, grabbing your backpack and stepping out from behind the table. “Talk later?”

“But, you haven’t even touched your lunch…” his voice fades out as he watches you rush quickly out of the cafeteria, surprise etched on his face.

Jihoon watches on, just as surprised as Seungkwan as he reaches the table with him, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Okay, what the hell was that? What happened to Bug?” Seungkwan immediately questions Soonyoung, who upon further inspection, looks just as out of it as you are.

“We don’t know,” Seokmin speaks for his soulmate. “Every time she’s at home, she stays locked up in her room and only leaves to cook dinner for us and clean up. She didn’t even come down for movie night the other night.”

Your soulmate’s eyes widened slightly as Soonyoung took a deep breath. “Something has happened and she won’t tell us what. She doesn’t even speak when she’s at home anymore.”

“We’ve tried to talk to her, get her to come out of her room, do anything, but she doesn’t budge. I’m getting worried.” Seokmin bites his lip.

“I don’t know what the hell has happened to our Bug. She is literally just doing fucking chores and whenver one of us tries to hang out..” your best friend rubs at his temples. “She keeps insisting we hang out with our soulmates. With each other. I don’t know why the fuck that doesn’t mean she can’t hang out with us too.”

Jihoon feels sick as your housemate’s words sink in to him.

When will you realize your help isn’t needed? You’re not needed!

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Jihoon-ah.” Wonwoo breathes out when Jihoon finally steps through the door. “You were supposed to be back four hours ago. What the hell were you- Jihoon-ah?”

His eyes widened at the sight of his housemate stepping under the lights of the hallway, lip trembling and hair sticking in six different directions. Jihoon truly didn’t mean to take so long making it home. He supposes he lost track of time wandering campus with his racing mind.

He knew his words had gotten to you. At the moment it felt good, for you to feel the pain he did. But now? Seeing his friends, your family agonizing over how detached you are?

What has he done?

“Jihoon…” Junhui looks on worriedly, reaching forward to slip the backpack off his housemate’s shoulders.

“I… I knew what I was getting into when I chose to date her, Wonwoo.” His voice quivers as he stares at the ground. “I knew that she already had a soulmate, but… I-I didn’t think…”

“Of course you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees.

“She told me that he had moved countries years ago… There was no chance he’d come back…” a small tear slides down his cheek as his housemate hums in acknowledgement. “And when I… when I found my soulmate and I-” Jihoon chokes back a sob. “And I rejected them to keep a hold of Ji-ah…” His soft cries echo into the quiet hallway. “I… I felt their heart break inside of me, I’ve felt their pain for weeks a-and now I feel their pain on top of my own and… fuck, I broke her, man.”

“Oh, Jihoon…” Junhui sighs sympathetically as Wonwoo pulls Jihoon towards him, bringing his head into his shoulder as his arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace.

Jihoon pauses for a moment. He blinks once, twice, and a third time before he lets out a soft sob, his hands gripping onto Wonwoo’s shoulders desperately as he buries his face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Hyung,” he chokes out. “I r-really fucked up.”

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@vixensss @hemmingsness @lizzymizzy-blog @kawennote09 @breakfastburritosattiffanys @im-gemmy @friendlywraith @devinkelsey19 @kameko-ko @mar-627 @Woozieeeee @milopenne @stellauniverse @addicsvt @changbinisms @phenomenalgirl9 @lanatheawesome @maidachi @jeanjacketjesus @sunnynapp @jihanniee @reallyshypost @jaeminsbuckethat @sweetchelly @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @claireleem @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery @sumzysworld @lavayeon @unusuallyshy @woozixo @mirxzii @mhlsymlysn @seventeenthingsblr @kwanniesboo @loomsuhcats @markleehee @scuzmunkie @tumblerluvver @wooanghae @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @comingupwithacoolnameishard @whorecore-world @sana-is-ms-rmty @bitterbluemorningstar @reverieisntready @gaslysainz @softforyoongles @artemisdoe @studykaystudy @kpopishealing @kyrojackson @winchestersllama @palmsugr @j0j11 @cookiearmy @lateforlatte @eisaspresso

Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @lisaaaaamanobannn @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jovialpartyneckoaf @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sarahisupset @sun-daddy-yoriichi @coveyland @side-angel @ateez-atiny

#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee Jihoon angst #seventeen au

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4ranghaes · 2 days ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd with pregnant!reader

ot5 bnd x reader [fluff, afab!reader, pregnant!reader]

a/n - i just felt a bit weird writing woonhak, considering he’s younger than me idk,, hope you still enjoy!!!

sungho🎀 [4 months along]

“wait! wait, wait,” he said quickly, slamming the car door on his side before running round and opening your own.

you chuckled, “thank you, ba–”

“here,” he said, taking your hand, placing his other hand on your back as he helped you out the car.

“sungho,” you sighed, as he rushed to grab your bag and lock the car before ushering you inside, “sungho!”

he stopped, turning to you. he’d just reached the front door of your house, key in his hand as he stopped.

“you need to stop fussing over me,” you laughed, “i’m fine. i’m barely even showing yet!”

sungho sighed, placing his hand protectively on your back as the two of you walked inside, “i know. i’m sorry, i just– i already worried about everything when you were just you! now it’s you and our baby, in one person?! everyday i think i’m going to combust when i think about it.”

you collapsed on the sofa, your body tired and achey. even if you weren’t showing, pregnancy was still doing a number on your body. you laughed at your husband’s words, beckoning him to your side, “i need you to be normal, for my own sanity. and i need you to calm down, for your own health.”

he nodded, leaning on your shoulder, wrapping his arm round your waist, “i’ll try.” he sighed in contentment, his thumb rubbing gently on your stomach, “that was a good scan today.”

you nodded, placing your hand over his, “i love hearing their heartbeat.”

sungho grinned, looking to you and nodding, “i know, makes it feel real that there’s a little person in there! i can’t believe it.” he quietened down again quickly, massaging your legs he knew were aching, kissing your forehead softly. “son or daughter?”

you chuckled, placing your hands over your stomach and humming, “i have no idea.”

“come on,” sungho jeered, “mum’s instinct?”

you smiled, butterflies erupting at the sound of being called mum for the first time, “the instinct is that they’re beautiful and loved, no matter what.”

“yeah…” your husband hummed, “but a daughter would be lovely, right?”

you giggled, nodding as you played with his hair, “and you’d spoil her completely, i’m sure.”

riwoo 🦦🍡 [3 months along]

“was that a dream?”

you hummed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before snuggling into your husband’s chest, “what?”

“last night,” he said, staring at the ceiling. he glanced at you, a small smile on his face as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “i could swear i had a dream that you told me you were pregnant.”

you giggled, “hmm, i wonder why.”

riwoo chuckled, “i can’t believe it. i feel like i need to do something… tell someone? buy something?”

you laughed, “just hold on. i think we should wait until 20 weeks to tell people. that’s what they suggest, anyway.”

“sounds good,” he nodded, sighing with contentment, “wow. i mean, before the years over we’re gonna have a baby. at christmas! oh wow. do you think it’s gonna be a boy or a girl?”

you giggled, closing your eyes from sleepiness, “i don’t know, sanghyuk.”

“i need to research,” he hummed, stroking your hair, “i don’t know anything about pregnancy or babies.”

“did you know they can already hear?” you smiled, rolling onto your back and placing your hand on your stomach. nothing was showing, but just the idea was exciting. riwoo looked shocked, scooting down the bed and resting his head on your chest, his hand on your lower stomach.

“they can hear me?” he smiled, stroking the skin softly.

“yeah,” you said, stroking riwoo’s hair, “go on, say something. i’ve done it a couple times.”

“okay,” he chuckled, humming for a moment as he swiped his hand over your stomach, “hey baby. i– i don’t know anything about you yet. haven’t even seen a scan. but i’m your dad. um… i guess you’ll get to know me pretty well. i’m excited to meet you, in 7 months. it feels long, but i’m sure it’ll go by quickly, and then you can celebrate christmas with me and your mum. speaking of your mum… you’re inside her now, so she’ll take good care of you. but i hope you treat her well too, don’t make her too ill. um… i don’t really know what else to say so i’ll say bye for now but i’ll speak to you again soon, okay? i’ll play you one of my songs too! feel free to kick or whatever to respond if you like it–”

“five months.”

“hmm?”

“usually you don’t feel the baby kick until five months,” you smiled, stroking your husband’s hair back as he turned his face to look at your face now, instead of your stomach.

he frowned, “that’s so long.”

“come on, we have to get up now,” you groaned, stretching before sitting up.

“okay,” riwoo sighed, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and leaping out of bed, “i’ll start the coffee— oh.”

you grumbled, glaring at him, “don’t rub it in.”

jaehyun🪻🐕 [6 months along]

“hiya pretty girl,” he said, bursting into a smile as you wandered into the living room.

you glared at your husband, “don’t patronise me.”

“i’m not,” jaehyun laughed, “come on, sit down, i’ll rub your feet.”

“you will?” you asked, almost tearing up in gratitude.

“of course!” he exclaimed, voice soft like a melody as he helped you onto the sofa before pulling your legs up so they were resting in his lap.

“sorry i was grumpy,” you said sheepishly, as he started massaging your soft-covered feet and legging-covered calves.

“it’s okay,” he beamed, “be as grumpy with me as you want, my girl! you’re carrying my baby.”

one of his hands trailed up to rest on the bottom of your rounded stomach. you smiled, placing your hand over his before dragging it upwards to where your daughter’s little feet were kicking repetitively.

“woah, harsh!” he gasped over-dramatically, rubbing the spot with his thumb.

jaehyun was good at leaving you to your own devices during pregnancy, knowing that too much worrying and fussiness would be overbearing for your already over-loaded body and mind, but sometimes you didn’t mind a bit of fuss.

“do you want anything particular for dinner?” he asked, moving back to massaging your feet.

you hummed, “no, i don’t have anything in mind. you can choose.”

“okay,” he said suspiciously, “but i’ll check with you first, yeah? i want you to eat.”

you smiled, nodding and going back to your phone.

“oh check your emails, by the way,” he said, barely even looking at you as he spoke, “i ordered some things for the nursery.”

you clicked on the app, eyes widening at the confirmation email you’d received that morning. “some things?! jaehyun, this is the whole nursery!”

“well we needed to get it done, right?” he shrugged.

“oh thank you,” you cooed, removing your legs from his lap and instead cuddling into his side, “how did you know i was stressing about that last night?”

“you wrote it on a post-it note to remind yourself, and then forgot to put it up,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead, “no need to worry anymore, though.”

you sighed, pregnancy brain ruining your ability to even think anymore, “thank you, love.”

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he smiled down at you, “and hey, why don’t we go clothes shopping soon? hmm? you know we’re gonna love that.”

you smiled, nodding as jaehyun pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “you’re the best.”

taesan 🎸🐈‍⬛ [7 months along]

“dongmin, have you seen my tape?”

“woah,” he smirked, sitting up on the bed as he ogled you in the doorway.

“what?” you sighed.

you were stood wearing nothing but a crop top that only covered your boobs nowadays, with booty shorts, and your hair which had finally had a wash after a week was put away messily.

“you look gorgeous,” he blinked, face unwavering as you rolled your eyes.

“please,” you scoffed, practically waddling over to your husband.

he smiled, “no, i’m serious. i don’t think i’ve ever been more turned on. god you’re sexy.”

“oh my god keep it in your pants! i’m already pregnant,” you rolled your eyes, standing in front of him, “now can you answer my question?”

“your tape? oh the belly supporter one? yeah, it’s in the dresser,” he hummed, “i’ll get it, you sit down.”

he swapped your positions so you were sat on the edge of the bed and he wandered over to grab the tape, coming and helping you stand back up to put it in position.

“how could you possibly find me sexy right now?” you laughed, looking at yourself in the mirror as you planned where to put the tape to support your body the most.

“cause you’re all mine,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder as he stood behind you, “and everyone knows it. and you’re so cool, you’re carrying a person, our person.”

you smiled, taesan’s hands snaking round your waist and resting on your stomach as his head rested on your shoulder.

“sorry i find cool and powerful women so sexy,” he shrugged.

“wow you’re such a feminist,” you laughed, taesan shaking his head as he chuckled. “speaking of, how’s the nursery coming along?”

“nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, princess,” he hummed, kissing your shoulder as he went and grabbed his laptop off the bed, “in two weeks it’ll be done, and we’ll be fully ready for our little guy. okay?”

you nodded, smiling as taesan continued to stand behind you, admiring you in the mirror. you basked in the moment for a while longer, sighing in contentment as you leaned against his body.

“fuck,” you cursed under your breath, seeing a large wet spot appear on your crop top.

“fuck,” taesan murmured, “i need to get you pregnant more often.”

you glared at him, “not helping.”

leehan🪸🐠 [5 months along - warning: mentions of like,, being able to see the baby move? some people find that gross so i wanted to leave a warning😭]

“y/n?”

“up here!” you called from the bedroom, as leehan came through the front door after work.

you heard your husband sprinting up the stairs, two at a time as he usually did, appearing in the bedroom doorway with a goofy smile on his face.

“hey, how was your— woah.”

he stopped his question, looking at your rounded stomach which was seemingly moving beneath the skin.

“this is so freaky,” you chuckled, “i mean, interesting. but weird, right?”

“that is so cool,” he said, quickly coming to the side of the bed and kneeling down, peering closely at the skin.

you laughed, “she’s really in there, huh?”

“hey, baby,” leehan spoke, poking your stomach gently, “why you wriggling so much? you uncomfortable?”

you chuckled at his words, stroking the hair on the back of his head as he resting his chin on the mattress.

“wah,” he spoke, placing a hand flat on your stomach, letting it be moved by your unborn child, “wah. hi baby, it’s daddy. remember me?”

“i hope so, considering you speak to her twice a day,” you laughed.

he smiled, kissing his fingers and pressing it to the skin. he continued to blink, in a quiet fascination of your baby, and of you, for carrying her inside you.

“is it uncomfortable?”

“no,” you shook your head, “feels weird though. i couldn’t even describe it if i wanted to.”

he nodded thoughtfully, “how long has she been doing this?”

“all afternoon,” you said, before adding sheepishly, “i phoned the doctor at first. they were a bit pissed at me, i think, cause it turns out it’s absolutely nothing to worry about. but i just thought this movement seemed excessive, right?!”

“yeah, they’re a dick,” leehan said, voice almost emotionless, “you’re just worried for your baby, you’re being a good mum.”

you smiled, “thanks, love. anyway, they said she’s probably just moving position, but it’s early enough that they’re confident she’ll move back before it’s time to come out.”

“she’s just an acrobat, hmm?”

“or a dancer, maybe?” you smiled, leehan looking at you shyly before looking back to your stomach.

“i want to name her sua,” he said, suddenly.

“sua?” you repeated, “as in… water themed?”

he nodded, “either that or i name her after a fish, so it’s up to you.”

you laughed, leaning over and kissing his head, “sua sounds perfect.”

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niki-phoria · 3 days ago

Text

'cause i don't wanna be in love with another / even in another life

pairing: arisu ryohei x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 965

notes: need s3 to be released immediately, mandatory apology for my inconsistent posting, uni is killing me, only one bed trope, established relationship, arisu is touch starved a little bit, awkward loser arisu my beloved <33, not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes, title from the maria's - heavy

the twin sized mattress is far too small for two people - easily evidenced by the cramped way ARISU RYOHEI’S shoulder awkwardly brushes against your own. his entire body feels stiff; he feels more like a corpse than a man when he shuffles slightly, still overly close to you.

the beach is never quiet. even within the confines of a hotel room you had chosen at random, you can vaguely hear the music blasting throughout the hotel. chatter fills the otherwise quiet night. if you’re not careful enough, you can sometimes walk in on a session of drunken sex or a drug deal in progress. neon lights dance across the sky, drowning out the stars that are visible near the eerily empty shopping centers and traffic lights.

arisu freezes when you roll onto your side, moving even close to him in the process. it feels like the entire world shifts when you do. despite all of his effort, you’re impossible to ignore. “arisu,” you whisper. your voice cuts through the darkness, stealing his attention away from the intricate patterns engraved into the ceiling. the man twists just enough to face you, overly conscious of every movement he makes. “are you alright?”

arisu swallows. hard. he sends a silent prayer that the shake in his voice will disappear by the time he quietly murmurs, “i’m fine.”

the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach only seem to increase when you chuckle quietly. you smile softly. sweetly. “you don’t have to be so nervous, you know.” you reach up, gingerly resting a hand against his cheek. arisu’s skin feels hot against your palm as you trace your thumb against his cheekbone. “if you’re not ready to share a bed i can go find somewhere else to sleep. i’m sure kuina wouldn’t mind.”

“no! no- i-” arisu stutters. his face flushes an embarrassingly deep shade of red and his mind races. he desperately tries to remember whatever advice karube had drunkenly told him over rounds of cheap beer and ramen noodles. “please don’t go. i want this.”

there’s a pause. arisu squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for you to say something. an apology lingers on the tip of his tongue, about to escape from his lips when you murmur- “good,” you smile. “i want this, too.”

outside of your window, glass shatters. loud cheers fill the night as the party rages on with no regard for the time of night. arisu has never been a fan of parties, preferring to stand in the corner and watch as karube flirted with anyone who seemed interested or slipping outside under the guise of a “smoke break” with chota for some fresh air.

you don’t seem to mind, however, as you shuffle ever so closer. your hand slips away from his face, leaving goosebumps in its wake. arisu frowns softly at the loss of warmth before you wrap your arm around his waist instead.

beneath the cheap hotel blankets, you further entangle your body with arisu’s. he can’t seem to pull away. or, maybe he doesn’t want to. he hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

but when you curl your body further against him, now leaning your head against his shoulder, he lets out a quiet breath. slowly, the tension in his body begins to slip away. his anxiety lessens with each passing moment until his heartbeat has calmed to a slow, rhythmic beating in his chest.

this time when he turns to face you, your eyes are closed. soft breaths occasionally leave your parted lips. tentatively, arisu brushes a shaky hand through your hair. he tucks a few stray strands behind your ear.

with your features now exposed, he can see the way neon light streaming in despite the closed curtains dances across your cheeks. before arisu knows it, his lips have curled upwards into a soft smile. he lowers his hand until it rests against the curve of your waist, just below your rib cage.

now finally comfortable, arisu allows himself to relax against the pillows. his own eyes flutter shut as the incessant pounding of the dj’s music begins to lull him to sleep. maybe he could get used to this.

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my aib masterlist <33

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imhappierthanever · 1 day ago

Note

hiii I was wondering if u could do a fic where Billie hates reader then Billie finds out that reader has an abusive boyfriend at a party by one of readers friends and Billie and readers boyfriend get into a fight ( because Billie actually cares about reader ) at his house and reader walks in and the boyfriend ends up hitting reader , the ending is yourssss !! (Also I don’t know if this makes much sense .. )

hi bb! Hope this is what you wanted!

heartbreaks & earthquakes

Another weekend, another party you didn’t want to be at. Your boyfriend was throwing another party which meant he would be drinking and you would end up being at the other end of his anger.

You locked yourself in the bathroom, looking in the mirror at the new reminder of how much you needed to leave him. A fresh new mark on your face that you couldn’t hide very well. You gently ran your fingers over it, wincing slightly at the pain before searching through your purse to find something to make it seem a little less obvious.

You could just tell someone you ran into something if they asked you thought to yourself as you put some makeup over it, and made your way back to the party, passing Billie along the way. You noticed she was talking with one of your friends. Though you couldn’t imagine what they must have been talking about. You didn’t know Billie very well. You always thought she kinda hated you, so you never took the time to really get to know her.

When your friend noticed your sad expression, she excused herself from Billie and joined you on the balcony.

“So, what did he do this time?” Your friend asked. Knowing he was always up to something.

“It’s nothing!” You said shying away, trying to hide the bruise further with your hair. She lifted your head, eying your rather shit cover up job, and tear stained face. “You know, he can’t keep doing this to you. One day he’s really going to hurt you! I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just want to help you. Make sure you’re okay. You deserve better than this.” Your friend said seriously, hoping that this time you would actually leave him. But before you could even respond, shouting from two familiar voices filled a nearby space.

“Oh shit!” Your friend said. “I may have told Billie that your boyfriend is a complete ass!” “You did what?” You shouted racing off to go find them. Not sure what was to come of it. But you knew enough to know if Billie got involved, your boyfriend didn’t stand a good chance.

Once you found them, they were in the middle of a heated argument about you. You couldn’t understand seeing as how you had become your boyfriend’s punching bag, and Billie? She just didn’t like you or care.

You stepped in the middle of them, pushing them both apart. “Stop it you two!” You said continuing to stand in the middle of them both. “Gonna let your girlfriend fight for you? Even after all the shit you put her through?” Billie spat, trying to move you out of the way.

“She’s my girlfriend. And that means I can do whatever I want, anytime I want” he said wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’re fine,Billie. Really we are. You can go back to the party. Thank you for wanting to help.”

You gave her a weak smile before she took one last look at both of you, heading for the door. But before she could even leave fully, she heard the sound of his fist hitting your face. Billie froze, taking in the moment before she walked back over to your boyfriend returning the favour. She knocked him to the ground, leaving him spitting up blood.

“You’re never putting your hands on her again. And if you even try, you’ll have me to deal with. Got it?” She said ever so seriously. Her voice had lowered, eyes darkened. That beautiful blue turning icy. You realised you knew her even less in this moment, but also you didn’t care as you felt her hand slip into yours, leading you away from your boyfriend and back to the bathroom where you felt like you were spending most of the party.

“Hop up on the counter pretty girl.” Billie said, shutting the door behind you, standing in between your legs. Her face was dangerously close to yours as she examined the damage.

Wait..did she just call you-

She broke your thoughts when her ring clad fingers held your chin softly to get a better look. “Looks like he got you pretty good. “ she said looking at your eye, knowing it would be bruised in a matter of hours.

“Billie.” You ask, questioning her actions. “Why did you do that? Why did you stand up for me out there?” You asked wincing from both the old pain and new mixing together. She didn’t answer you as she rummaged through the medicine cabinet finding an ice pack and placing it over your eye.

“You’ve never cared before. What’s changed?” You asked feeling strange as you let her take care of you. “And now I’m pretty to you? You’re so fu-“

Before you could finish, she lifted your chin and placed her lips softly on yours, kissing you so sweetly, so tenderly you couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

When she pulled away, your eyes were still closed, taking in the moment, hearing her speak finally.

“I’ve always had feelings for you. But you’ve always been with someone else. Always a guy. I just never thought I had a chance. So I tried to act like I didn’t care. But I do. And when I heard what he was doing to you, and saw for myself I couldn’t let him keep don’t that to you. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be with someone who appreciates you and cares. Someone who would be happy to call you their own.”

You couldn’t believe she was saying this. And to you. Your head was swimming, confusion consuming your every thought as her eyes returned to that beautiful ocean blue. Could you ever see yourself being with Billie? You didn’t know. But as she cared for you, tending to your eye and staying with you to make sure you felt safe, you felt your heart swell at the kindness she was showing you.

You could give her a chance, couldn’t you? You thought as she lead you away from the party, leaving the loud music, sweaty bodies and him behind. She helped you into her car and drove you home. Still making sure you felt okay enough to be on your own.

You both stood on your porch. Billie rocked back and forth on her feet, her hands in her pockets as she nervously began to speak again.

“I can um.. come in with you. Make sure you’re alright.” She said meting your gaze. She really was quite beautiful you thought to yourself as you cupped her face with one of your hands, pulling her in for a kiss.

“I would like that. And maybe just maybe you could stay too?” You said smiling softly, secretly hoping she wouldn’t turn you down. Ans she didn’t. She nodded shyly, letting you grab her hand and lead you inside.

Truthfully you didn’t know what was between you. You didn’t even know if it had been a good idea. But you both knew what ever kind of relationship you and your boyfriend once had, it was over new. Billie was your new beginning and the possibilities of being with her seemed endless as you shut the door behind you, welcoming her into your space and into your heart.

#billie eilish #billie x reader #billie eilish x you #billie x imagine #billie x fem!reader #billie eilish fanfiction

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theocddiaries · 3 days ago

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Amy: What you two need to do to smooth things over is talk. With an impartial third party guiding you with a little bit of psychology. So come on, let's start. Sonic, say something you like about Shadow. Sonic: He's kind. Very level-headed. Trustworthy. He brings calm wherever he goes. Shadow: …Thank you, Sonic. Amy: Good. Shadow? Shadow: Hm… Well, he's… Good-hearted, even at his own detriment. He’s funny. He always tries to include everyone. He makes people feel comfortable. Sonic: Thanks, Shads. Amy: See? Saying those things is important. Just like accepting criticism. Why don't you start this time, Shadow? What's something about Sonic that you don't like? Shadow: Well… when I ask him if he wants something to eat and he says no, but then he starts picking at my plate… Sonic: It's true, I do that. I say I don’t feel like eating, but then I see the food and I can’t resist. Sorry. Shadow: It’s fine. I’m starting to remember to grab you a separate plate with a little bit of everything. Sonic: Okay, my turn. Hmm… I don’t like when you move my things around. I can never find anything. Shadow: Well, that’s not really moving things around, it’s called organizing, but okay, I accept the criticism. Amy: See? That’s healthy communication and-- Sonic: Since you’re accepting criticism so well, what about never admitting you're wrong? Like now. Amy: Sonic, wait, we’ve-- Shadow: I was actually being gracious because I don’t want to start a fight. Amy: Shadow, I was talking-- Sonic: I've got another one, you keep everything to yourself and then people have to guess what’s wrong with you. Shadow: You surely aren't talking about yourself in that scenario, considering you spend all day with your head in the clouds. Maybe that’s why you’re confused, saying I move your things when all I do is put them in a drawer instead of leaving them on the floor. Amy: Guys, we’re drifting off-topic a little-- Sonic: Look, if you need to micro-manage everything because you’ve got a trauma the size of Greenland, it’s not my fault, okay? Shadow: I do not micro-manage. Sonic: Come on, everything has to be as you wish. Shadow: If that were true, the trash wouldn't still be there. When are you going to take it out? Sonic: When I feel like it because this is my house. If I want to leave it there until it grows legs and throws itself out, I will! Shadow: Now you can afford the luxury call this a house; before I got here, this place was a mess! Sonic: No. Before you got here, this place was a peaceful haven! Shadow: A peaceful haven full of crap. You’ve got the closets as decoration, you big lazy! Amy: Okay guys, let’s breathe-- Sonic: Maybe I'm just tired of coming home and seeing you with that damn scowl all day, bitter idiot! Shadow: Maybe I’m pissed off all day because you don’t do anything! Sonic: I don't do anything because according to you I do everything wrong, Mr I-don't-micromanage! Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! Shadow: Right now, what I want is for you to leave! Sonic: No, you leave, you’re the one who’s a problem wherever you go! Shadow: Gladly! [stands up and walks toward the door] Sonic: Oh no no! I’m leaving, so you can't act like a martyr! [leaves the house too] [Amy pinches the bridge of her nose while they’re still heard arguing in the hallway.] Shadow: Stop following me, idiot! Sonic: I’m not following you, you paranoid, I’m going in the elevator! Shadow: Of course you’re taking the elevator! Lazy! Sonic: Go ahead and take the whole staircase, you selfish! Knuckles [comes out of the kitchen with a sandwich, having heard everything]: Damn, is this therapy? Making things worse? People spend money on such things… or maybe you're just really bad at this. Amy [throws a pillow at him] Knuckles: Ow! [sarcastically]: Amy, accepting criticism is important, Amy.

This could be like the prologue of this and this tbh

#incorrect quotes #sth #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #knuckles the echidna #sonadow #sonic #sonic fandom

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dadsbongos · 2 days ago

Text

dirty 30... or 40.

1.9 k words / warnings - (first time) anal, age gap/age diff kink, jimmy's your asshole ex, kinda rushed but like stfu

summary - it's curly's birthday! and a surprise guest (jimmy's pretty ex) gives him a surprise present!

“My dad died at forty, man,” the redhead in front of him mumbles. Plump lips stained red with wine and hair mussed in all the places she’s been wringing her fingers through it. Her eyes are a little drifty, empty behind the color and caked mascara, “But you’re in way better shape. So, you’re fine… I think. You don’t have cancer, right?”

Curly clears his throat, shakes his head to both refuse the accusation and try spotting any of his actual friends, “I don’t think I do.”

Jimmy is across the room, standing in the open patio door with his back to the room. An unlit cigarette bit between his molars and a black lighter in the hand he’s using to point out the glass frame. His cheeks are red, surely not from the single beer he’s had, and his face is pinched toward a scowl. He’s getting in a fight.

Perfect.

“Ah,” Curly beams down at the woman, a friend’s friend’s sister he thinks. Fresh out of a divorce. Pretty. One year older than him. Lovely, drunk, off putting, “My friend needs me. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Usually the last two are more his type, but tonight just isn’t his.

She nods and waves him off with the sweetest little, “happy birthday!” he’s heard all night.

Easily cutting across his tiled kitchen through the spread of his friends and family, Curly flocks where everyone else is already staring: troublemaker Jimmy raising his voice at an unseen woman in the backyard. Music filters in through the open doorway, not nearly loud enough to cover the murmuring of people wondering why the man was even invited. Which Curly supposes is fair -he tends to avoid bringing Jimmy to his formal birthday gatherings because everyone showing up is either from work or related to him.

But for some reason, the morning after Curly’s real birthday party with his friends Jimmy insisted upon making an appearance. Said he’d smoke the whole way through, but he’d stick it out.

Right as he’s brushing back stressed blonde waves and gearing up to drone out the classic hey what’s going on? he sees exactly what’s going on. From over Jimmy’s shoulder, he gets a view of the entire grassy block making up his backyard. Cousins and their older kids clog towards the pool, a few aunts lingering by his orange trees, but all the way to the right is his target. All the way to the right, at the very side of his house is a cracking wood gate door hung on rusty, squeaky hinges.

A hand is on that door, it trails around the edge and around to slide its metal bar lock into place before joining the other hand in cradling a yellow polka dot box. A purple glitter ribbon crinkles into the bust of your shirt, shiny flecks decorating your cleavage.

Once his eyes tread up your neck, he spots the beaten pout slithered over your face. Gaze honed on Jimmy -- which redirects his own attention toward Jimmy, the entire reason he’d toddled over this way.

“Get your hooker ass the fuck outta here!” Jimmy doesn’t give you the benefit of anyone’s doubt, either, he fishes you directly out of the crowd with the tip of his lighter. Silver glinting beneath the warm sun, “Bitch, if you- !”

“Don’t pretend we were strangers,” Curly steps past Jimmy, slightly jostling the man with his broader shoulders. Thick stature leaking out at his friend’s side and pouring onto the cement, he waves you over, “It’s been awhile! Glad you could find the place alright.”

Then Jimmy stabs an elbow into Curly’s side, hissing, “You fuckin’ invite this cunt?”

“No,” dismissively, Curly shrugs while watching you slink over. Heels stapling lime green astroturf into the ground as you do, “But what’s the hurt?”

“Bitch,” Jimmy scoffs, reaching behind the both of them to slam the glass door shut. Staunchly avoiding eye contact with you by craning his neck downward, cigarette drooping between his front teeth while he fiddles to light it.

“Good to see you again, Curly,” you all but purr, pushing the box in hand beneath your chest to give him a biiiig birthday hug, “I’m glad Jimmy hasn’t killed you yet.”

“Shoulda fried your ass,” is all the man says.

Curly laughs when he really shouldn’t and ticks his head towards the door, “Want to come inside?”

“How nice,” it’s clear you’re saying that loud enough for Jimmy to hear, “Of course, I do.”

To ease his friend even a little, Curly lingers at the glass door and quietly offers, “Jim’ wanna come inside?”

Jimmy shakes his head stiffly, sucking almost half the life from his cigarette in one breath.

“It’s been awhile, how’ve you been?” he guides you into the kitchen and pops the fridge. Snaking a hand deep into the back for one of those fruity seltzers he knows you drink (Jimmy hates them all and made you chug his entire beer in apology for buying them one night, Curly thinks that’s why he remembers this about you).

Your face, still round with unlived life and sweetness, brightens seeing the crisp white can in Curly’s hand, exchanging gift for gift as you answer, “Pretty good… Nothing crazy. How about you? What’s old age feel like?”

“Old age,” Curly rolls his eyes, twiddling the showy bow you tied, “Jimmy’s older than me, you know?”

“What do you think I called him?”

“‘Babe.’” jimmy hates pet names unless he’s the one giving them.

“You’re so cute,” you slide into his side, expertly dragging one tassel of ribbon to undo the knot. Skin flush against his, your warmth mingling until he can’t surely state where personal space ends and begins, “I meant that. Differently.”

Once the bow is done away, you lift the top of the box to expose a single piece of paper scrawled over with a pink glitter pen and heart stickers.

“I thought it’d be funnier this way, but uhh, happy birthday!” you have to double check Jimmy’s still outside before kissing Curly’s stubbled cheek. A dewy stain left behind, smelling of pure sugar, “You said you liked your ladies direct, right?”

‘ONE FREE COUPON FOR: BIRTHDAY SEX!’

Curly feels winded. Grasp on the box tightening. He blinks down at the scraplet before locking onto you.

Soft and sweet, despite it all. A reprieve from his own bullshit as much as an untouchable boundary. Maybe even more forbidden, actually.

Con: Jimmy had to buy your drinks for you when you two first got together, and that was only a couple years ago.

Con: You’re strangers outside of Jimmy.

Con: You’re Jimmy’s fucking ex.

Con: You’re almost half his age.

Con: You’re Jimmy’s ex.

Con: half his age

Con: jim’s ex

Con: age

Con: ex

pro: you’re absolutely throwing yourself at him.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Curly can’t really look you in the eye so he focuses on the patch of skin between your brow bones. Weirdly, that too is pretty to him.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you shrug, so disconcerted with taboos and trivialities just like his cousins’ kids, “We’re both single, right? Not like anybody’s getting their feelings hurt.”

“Jim’ would- !”

“Jim’ would kill me if I toasted you,” you’re not sure why they’re friends but you don’t have the energy to ask, especially if it means it’s about to lead you to the holy grail of men, “Forget about him for a second, it’s your birthday.”

Sexual liberty, anti-puritanism, pleasure principle and all that bullshit -- kids these days are all hopped on hormones and fight those causes daily just for the right to fuck as they please (jesus he should stop saying ‘kid’). Sometimes social impurities are set in place for a reason.

But this is your choice, isn’t it?

Besides, you dated Jimmy. How much worse could Curly be for you?

“Break up was pretty ugly,” Curly hisses like this hurts him, and for all you know it probably does. His knuckles are whitening as he holds the (practically empty) box, “He wouldn’t even tell me about it.”

“Do you actually give a shit? Or do you just want me to go home?” you take the box away and make to turn out the door.

Not even a second passes before Curly scrambles after you, after the box. One hand on the corner and one hand on your shoulder as he blushes and pants, “Well- I- well- you know?”

“No clue, Grant.”

You beam up at him, all teeth glowing beneath rosy lips.

“You’re terrible,” Curly steers you towards the stairs, shaking his head the entire time, “You’ll get me killed.”

“Relax, it’s your birthday -you can do whatever you want!”

Like having sex right upstairs from the party composed of all your family and work friends.

“How’re you doing…? Hah -shit- can I move?”

“Uhhh… go slow, please?” you bat lashes up at him, one cheek smushed against the pillow and voice so high and pathetic and pleading.

Curly nods, a loose coil of flaxen hair bouncing in front of his forehead, “Yeah, yeah, of course- of course,” he’s mumbling to himself, mostly, every working braincell dizzying out at the tightness of your ass around him. He slides out one squelching, lubed centimeter before sliding back in, “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You squeal between pinched teeth, brows knitting up at Curly, “Careful!”

Sighing through his nose, Curly has to swallow down that entitled little ‘it’s my fucking birthday’ he wants to spit on your flaming cheek. Instead he just forces a ditzy, gold-hearted chuckle, “I didn’t believe you at first… about not letting Jimmy fuck you in the ass.”

Pouting, you reach up and claw the back of his neck to yank Curly’s lips against yours, “Don’t bring him up now!”

“But you really are tight,” he grunts, bruising your thigh in his hand -- taking out the urge to restlessly hump your ass in that vicious grip. The other hand slides between your molten thighs until he can swirl leisurely circles into your swollen clit.

A ragged mewl slithers through your throat right into Curly’s mouth as he repeats the tedious little pushes and pulls before he can glide smoothly into your ass. Pitchy whines wheeze after, hardly muffled by the man’s rosy lips. Shiny with mingling spit and swears. When his cock can finally urge past that cinching ring of muscle and you gasp, Curly can only quietly chuckle and nose at your cheek,

“What’s that, baby? What’re you whimpering ‘bout, huh?”

Letting your head hang back, nearly thunking against his darkwood headboard, you shudder and blubber out between ‘ah, huh, mm, uh’s, “So- full- Grant… so fuckin’ big…”

Some sick urge crawls over him before he can choke it down, "Bigger than him?"

You squeal, "Fuck, yes!"

Surging forward, Curly digs pearly canines into your exposed throat -- unsuccessfully attempting to mute his own moans into your skin. Only retreating far back enough to whisper into your hot ear, “Yeah? You like it?” your fucked out needy nod isn’t enough, he needs: “Say it, baby, tell me how much you love me in your ass.”

Fuck the party downstairs, if the music isn't loud enough they can just leave. And Jimmy could croak for throwing away a diamond slut like you.

“I love it!” you warble, breathe sharp, “So good, Grant- thank you!”

“‘Thank you,’” he laughs, sucking each bite in your neck until he’s sure it’ll be stained there tomorrow morning. Fingers dipping into your cunt as syrupy slick gushes out, middle and ring finger crooking toward the pouch of your stomach while his thumb continues to ply your bundle of nerves, “Cum for me, honey, c’mon, it’s my birthday.”

If he wasn’t digging you out with his cock then maybe you’d be able to cackle at how pathetically he whines.

And the best present of all is Jimmy’s controversially young ex letting him fuck her pretty little ass.

#curly x reader #curly smut #mouthwashing x reader

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bugisastranger · 18 hours ago

Note

hey babe 🩷 if you have the time or inspiration to write please consider fake dating to lovers with Clark Kent, like a to all the boys I’ve loved before typa situation

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! sorry it took me a bit to get around to it - i can be a busy busy gal.

"you want me to what?"

clark's voice is unlike anything you'd ever heard from him, his shock nothing less than apparent. you shush him, looking around the hallway to see if anyone's noticed. it's lucky for you that nobody did.

"come on, clark. it's one night! not even! it's like, a few hours at most."

"can't you ask someone else? pete?"

"i don't want to ask pete. he won't be able to sell it."

"and you think i can?" he's exasperated, leaning closer to you as if he's suddenly aware how many people could overhear this conversation. "i'm a horrible liar."

"please? you know how my family can be," you whisper, looking up at clark. he sighs, hanging his head. he does know how your family can be—overbearing—which is exactly why he's hesitant. but you're you, so how can he actually say no?

"okay. okay, fine."

"really?" you ask, nearly jumping out of your skin. your arms slide around clark's neck as you excitedly let out a few small 'thank you's. clark's still frozen in place from his decision, but forces one of his arms to slide awkwardly around your hip. he's in for it, isn't he?

the ringing of the school bell pulls the two of you apart, and you quickly shut your locker, making your way towards your first class. clark keeps his place beside you. "so, what does this mean, exactly? what do you want from me?"

"jeez, clark, that sounds like i'm holding you hostage. it's just a favor."

"yeah, yeah. whatever. what do you need me to do?" he asks, taking his seat next to you at the lab table.

"i don't know. whatever feels natural," you say, bending to the side to pull your textbook out of your bag, a gesture which clark never would've took a second glance at. but today, with your hair falling in front of your face (and then you pushing it away), something's different. he doesn't even notice he forgot to say something in response to you until you glance back at him, confused at his silence.

"uh—" he clears his throat. "how am i supposed to know what's natural? we've never dated before." oops. overly sarcastic.

"have you never even considered it?"

"what?" clark's baffled by your question, but you ask it so casually, like it's not taking the ground out from beneath his feet. it's not that he hasn't considered it. it's that he has. he knows all too well how he wants to walk with his arm around your shoulders, how he wants to have you cuddle into his side as you watch a movie, how he wants to absolutely spoil you—as if he has the money for that anyway. "i—"

"you know what? forget i said that. i don't wanna know," you mutter. "just, like, pretend like you're obsessed with me, i don't know."

"hey, lovebirds! you done?" the teacher calls from the front of the classroom.

as clark starts, "oh, we're n—"

you say, "sorry! we're sorry." and then the both of you, red in your faces, stay silent. you barely even move, feeling reprimanded, even though your teacher was barely offended.

when the teacher lets the class work in pairs, clark decides to use the time to talk to you instead. he could do the work later. "can you just give me an idea of what the night's going to look like, at least?"

you take a quick glance at the teacher, making sure her eyes aren't on you and clark. "you'll come over and i'll introduce you as my boyfriend. my parents won't be suspicious, because i'll start bringing it up today. and they won't be too intimidating. my uncle might, but they'll love you. there's something about you that screams 'good guy' and they'll pick up on it." you twirl the pen in your hands. "it'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about, really." clark feels his heart skip a beat when you place your hand on his bicep—which is supposed to be a comforting gesture. what's happening to him? you've touched him before. plenty of times, actually. this shouldn't mean a thing.

a few days later, and clark is taking deep breaths as he walks down the path to your front door. before he can even meet the porch, you're outside, greeting him. he nearly stops in his tracks when he sees you, your hair half up, half down. the dress you're wearing is baby pink, and something about this sight—seeing you so... girly does something to him, even if he won't admit it.

"hi," you say, breaking the awkward silence. "ignore the dress, i'm trying something a little different."

"no, it's good. you look great," he forces. and then, he remembers he's supposed to be your boyfriend, he's allowed to flirt with you. "you look really pretty." he swears he sees your expression change, like you're nervous. it makes his hand tense, and he nearly crushes the stems of the flowers he forgot he's holding. "oh, these are for you."

"thank you. this is..."

"good enough, i hope?"

"better. i knew you wouldn't let me down."

"can't leave my girlfriend hanging, can i?" oh. oh. that gets you. and clark knows it, too.

"uh—" you start, looking at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and infatuation. "we should go inside."

and as you're walking towards your front door—"i should call you something, shouldn't i?"

"what?" you turn back around, facing him.

"honey," he tries. "no, too mature. babe?" clark watches your reactions carefully, and even though you seem affected, 'babe' doesn't have the punch he was hoping for. "sweetheart?" bingo.

"sweetheart is fine," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your face heats up.

"okay, sweetheart. you ready for this?" you nod, walking towards the door with clark at your side. "what about princess?"

"too much. you can't call me that in front of my family."

"but i can call you that when we're alone?"

"clark!"

"it's just a question, sweetheart," clark teases, fighting back a chuckle. he could do this the rest of his life.

part two coming soon?!

#clark kent smallville #clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #pete mention #clark kent #need him to call me sweetheart rn

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oharaslove · 3 days ago

Text

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓉.𝟤

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship.

Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please)

Word count: 8k

Note: This is part 2 of a request!! I think you can read this as a one shot, but it would be better if you read the previous part (linked below). I also recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene).

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.

And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasn’t. Miguel’s insecurities were at all time high.

Besides, he couldn’t get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed.

Six months ago he dreaded the question: ‘There is someone special in your life?’, but now…

You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.

Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didn’t feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t enough. He would never be.

His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didn’t let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same.

That there was a possibility.

It didn’t help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What if–

“Miguel?” you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. “Are you okay?” you continued, moving even closer.

Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face.

“Yeah, I… I am fine, don’t worry” he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself.

“Are you…, are you sure? You don’t look okay” You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.

“Yes” he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

“Did I…” you began, your voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?”. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you.

You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide.

Shit. “No no no” Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, that’s what he did. “You.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at me” he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you.

You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of ‘sorrys’ and ‘please’. Miguel’s heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didn’t realise how his actions were affecting you.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadn’t pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about.

You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguel’s eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising.

You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. She’s adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own.

Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there.

You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. “Please” you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats.

Miguel left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didn’t want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask.

He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasn’t going to be short. So, better get comfortable.

“Come, sit” he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down.

You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two.

Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?.

¿Qué mierda me está pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldn’t tell, which made him anxious.

“I am sorry if I ever crossed the line” you continued, seeing that he wasn’t responding. “I-” You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so.

“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. “I just thought that,” you shrugged your shoulders. “you liked me”. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response.

Miguel’s eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldn’t believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of his–

“Or maybe it was all in my head, I don’t know” you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?

“NO!” he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. “No,” he said more calmly, collecting himself.

You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away.

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I… I am a loser” Miguel scanned your face. He couldn’t back out now.

“You don’t–” you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. ”Don’t seem like one to me” You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.

“Maybe, but I am” He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasn’t leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him.

He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked.

Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind.

Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldn’t let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldn’t look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you.

“Miguel” you whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand.”

Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldn’t express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.

“I am a loser” he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. “I don’t know how to do this.” he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his.

His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. “I’ve never done this” He whispered, inching closer. “All I know–” he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. “is that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really do”. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.

His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move.

“Miguel” you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move.

The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words weren’t needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap.

Miguel’s lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didn’t know how far he could go. Miguel’s hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered.

You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to.

“It’s okay” you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there.

You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. “I trust you.” you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence.

As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguel’s head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.

All of you.

The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more.

Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles.

As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident.

First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch.

His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his.

While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck.

Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguel’s fingers. He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate.

You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didn’t want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didn’t know if he was ready to stop.

Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasn’t already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didn’t want it to stop.

Miguel’s body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasn’t silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time.

He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didn’t want to fuck up. He needed to go slow.

Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasn’t a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling.

He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguel’s expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well.

“So..” you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguel’s lips. “Does this mean you like me too?”

Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose.

He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. “Yes” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered.

The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on.

That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguel’s head. “So… are you free tomorrow?”

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didn’t want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view.

You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didn’t know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Don’t move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.

Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldn’t remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?

Miguel couldn’t believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating.

Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didn’t like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident.

Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly weren’t there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed.

Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body.

He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen weren’t familiar. They weren’t his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces.

Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldn’t see him like this, he couldn’t lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldn’t let you witness the monster he had become.

A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door.

“Miguel?” you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. “Miguel please, I know you are in there” you pleaded, worry evident in your voice.

Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didn’t want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasn’t happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasn’t helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.

You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.

“Miguel please,” you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. “Please, I don’t know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk about–”

At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest.

Miguel’s arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldn’t bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough.

You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing.

You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly, shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch.

You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?.

“Mig?” you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves.

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms.

Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor.

“I’m sorry” you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry”.

Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didn’t want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didn’t know how to tell you what he was.

“You,” he began, not looking at you. “You did nothing wrong”

“Then why?” You shifted your body, facing towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we… I thought we were doing great.” The last words were barely audible.

“We were… we are!” he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye.

You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. “Then… why?” You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze.

Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didn’t tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you… Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break.

“I– I can’t do this” he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.

Your heart broke. You didn’t understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time.

“Shhh it’s okay” you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway.

Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you.

You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of ‘I’m sorrys’ and something along the lines of monster. You didn’t know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay.

After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.

For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldn’t leave him.

Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened.

“Miguel! Your eyes” You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further.

“I know, that’s part of the problem”

“What happened?!”

Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you weren’t in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable.

You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout “Freak!” and storm out.

You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified.

“Miguel” you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought.

You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force.

“OUCH!”

“How dare you!?” you shouted. “Do you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!” You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!” You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didn’t know if they were for his ears or for yours.

“I thought… well, maybe you would call me a monster and leave” He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed.

That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him.

“Leave?” you whispered in disbelief. “Leave?” You repeated slightly louder. “In what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and I–”

“You love me?” Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head.

You froze in place too, realising what you had just said.

“I–” you gulped. “I do. I love you”

Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply.

“I love you too.” he sighed. “Te amo” He pressed his forehead against yours.

You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?”

“Si mi vida. Perdón” He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms.

“I love you” you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.

Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldn’t wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didn’t have a clue of what was going to go down.

Yes, he had done research. But that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn aren’t realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite.

The end of the work day couldn’t come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.

Miguel’s leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most.

“It’s okay Mig. We don’t have to–”

“No!” he cut you off, way too eager. “I want to.”

“Okay” you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguel’s lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his.

He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed.

His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguel’s hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes” Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together.

The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didn’t care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguel’s hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties.

Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you.

Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.

“Amoor” he grunted.

You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took.

You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.

You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.

You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Ye– yes” he stuttered.

You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguel’s stomach, standing proud in front of you.

You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight.

“Is it okay?” Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“It’s perfect” you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there.

Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own.

You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake.

You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head.

Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips.

“Yess, Jesus, fuck” he moaned, spurring you on.

With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh, God, yes” Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting.

You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest.

“I’m closee” Miguel choked out. “Please” he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.

You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguel’s head flew back, eyes shutting hard.

He moaned your name over and over. Strings of “Yes, right there” “Fuck” and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it.

Miguel’s chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two.

“Fuck” he mumbled. You looked so pretty.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet.

Miguel was star struck. He couldn’t believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess.

You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguel’s hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement.

His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you.

You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you.

“Condom?” You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead.

“In the drawer,” Miguel answered.

You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out.

You looked at it, and back at Miguel. “Are you really sure?”

Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didn’t think he could speak right now.

You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguel’s chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you.

You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good.

Your mouth and Miguel’s fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguel’s nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders.

You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements.

“Touch me” you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face.

One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you.

Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more.

“Please, more” He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits.

You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you.

You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguel’s chest and shoulders as support. Miguel’s hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Miguel’s sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You weren’t any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it.

“Fu-Fuck” you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you.

“Mig– I’m close” You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering.

“Me too” he said, through gritted teeth.

His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms.

“Migg” you whimpered, slumping forward.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you.

Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge.

“Beba” he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.

You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high.

You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face.

You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours.

“Hi!” You whispered, stroking his cheek.

“Hi” he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.

“I love you Mig”

“Te amo, mi vida, y siempre lo haré” (I love you, my life, and I’ll always do)

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love 🥹☺️

I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.

It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.

I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.

Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.

Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14

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