#i think i spent too long on this and am starting to hate it but im happy enough with it
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A message to my American brothers and sisters whose candidate lost this election:
Firstly, I am neither American nor did I vote for your election so do take what I say with a grain of salt.
Iâm writing to you guys because I know how you feel. Iâve been there.
During the 2020 Presidential election of the Philippines, I too supported a movement. Not a candidateâa movement. A female presidential candidate who raised hope, became a champion for marginalized communities whose only goal was to create opportunities to shift my country away from the vitriol that came from a previous president who strong armed my country into a bloody war on drugs that saw the death of thousands of poor people.
And like you, I lost.
With the spread of misinformation and lies, my country elected the son of a dictator who proved himself to be the ineffective, incompetent and dishonest leader we all secretly hoped he wouldnât be.
Our hopes dimmed.
Tears were shed.
Resentment flowered in us like a storm.
It was difficult to swallow the results of an election that had so much at stake. You see, like your President-elect, our current President spent millions of pesos contesting a fair election that saw him losing out to the vice presidential position during the previous election.
Through bullying and intimidation, he sought to undermine a fair election that took him out of power.
And like your current President-elect, he still managed to win at the end.
It would have been easier to accept the results had it not been for the mocking of 31 million Filipinos who voted our current president into office.
We all heard them tell us, âYouâre crying over an election? You need better things to worry about.â
I want you to know that itâs okay to cry.
Your frustrations and disappointment are valid.
It is rare to find a candidate youâre able to place so much hope in and to have that hope dashed away is a bitter pill that is difficult to swallow.
I know, youâre probably tired of hearing it.
âTurn the other cheek.â
âAccept it and move on.â
âIt is what it is.â
âThereâs nothing more to do.â
Itâs okay. Iâm tired of it too.
I know youâre probably scared and angry and so, so, so tired. Two years after our election and I am still all of these things.
I still think about the what if, the what could have beens. I think a lot about how better off we would have been if the right person won.
I want you to know that itâs okay. Itâs okay to mourn those things.
You did your part. You voted and you campaigned and you fought hard. Sometimes, we just lose.
If thereâs any advice I can impart, itâs that I hope you take your frustration, your sadness, you exhaustion, your anger, and turn it into righteous fury.
Take that fury and do something with it.
Because the movement cannot stop here. The moment we stop fighting, they win.
To lose hope means victory for the other side.
I get it. Itâs easier to get mad at the people who voted for him. Itâs even easier to spew the same vitriolic hate towards them when they start complaining about how things donât change and how your country is worse off but theirs is the vote that put a wannabe-dictator in power.
Donât do it.
Because that divide is precisely why they keep winning. Itâs the same divide they sowed into my country and we are still struggling to fight that division everyday.
Losing this election is a step backwards but losing hope would be another step back.
Even to this day, my presidential candidate continues to inspire hope for change in my country.
I know yours will too.
Itâs not the end.
I need you to remember to breathe.
Breathe in the hope you desperately fought for;
breathe through the hurt of the loss;
and breathe out the fear they so badly want you to feel.
The road is long and itâs scary.
But thereâs about 50 or so million other people on that road with you. You might not be the majority but even David was small when he killed Goliath.
Cause if you voted for Kamala Harris, you already know you have the courage and righteous fury to fight for change and you cannot give up now that youâre so close.
You lost the battle but itâs not the end of the war.
So tonight, grieve. Cry. Hug your friends and family who are right there with you. Be sad and mourn the loss of what could have been.
Because tomorrow, when you wake, you will continue fighting for change.
Because no one else will.
#election 2024#us elections#kamala harris#kamala 2024#vote harris walz#harris walz 2024#tim walz#vote democrat#vote blue#blue
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inspired by this post by @epiphainie and people's awesome tags on it.
the messenger
The buzzer rang five minutes after Evan's text (Just coming back from our last call. Thank God. Not even stopping to shower I am outta here. See you in 20. 15 if I gun it. Start getting those clothes off.)
"Hello?" Tommy said, pressing the button. "Is someone there?"
"Oh, Tommy. I didn't even- Good." Something crackled on the other end. "Sorry, it's uh. It's Maddie."
Well, it was hardly his gate to keep. Tommy redid the buttons on his shirt. "Come on up."
Maddie arrived with Jee-Yun on her hip. She still had her work shirt on and she was mostly looking everywhere but him.
"Hi," he said, curiosity shifting to concern. He hadn't spent much time with the Han family unit. Not long after he and Evan became official, Maddie and Howie rescued a traumatized child from a group home and their free moments then went towards maintaining the connection between her and the parents she'd been ripped from, aka Hen and her wife Karen. But from what he'd heard about her, Jee-Yun seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Feeding off her mom, perhaps. "He's not back yet."
She looked up at him, very briefly, just long enough to give a good view of her reddened eyes. "Right. They're pretty much done. I asked Howie to meet us here."
She set Jee-Yun up on the easy chair with a coloring book and markers, then kissed her cheek. "Draw Mommy a nice picture, okay?"
Tommy ducked his head as she approached the kitchen, conscious of their differences in height. "Maddie?"
She took in a sharp breath, her eyes bright as she raised one hand. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you. I'd just hate to have to keep saying it."
"Okay." He touched her shoulder and left his hand there a moment. "I think there's... tea?" She was already too brittle and fragile for alcohol.
She nodded gratefully, her gaze going toward the kid quietly marking up a page of farm animals as he retreated to the cabinets. He thought about Howie's brother, Alfred- no Albert. His name came up occasionally in group conversations. He'd couch-surfed through the family, becoming a firefighter himself until he realized that being barely legal to drink and loving his hero brother weren't good enough reasons to stay at a job that didn't do it for him. After resigning, he'd gone back to Korea.
Tommy didn't ask. Asking would force her to answer.
He thought of some other names, which he also did not bring up.
They each had a mug of vanilla chai, which Evan never touched but Tommy loved. Tommy sipped his. Maddie only stared at hers. The door opened, letting in good-natured smack talk.
"Look, all I'm saying is, if it actually had been a rottweiler, you would've finished the call on the other side of the street."
"Okay, okay, Mr. I didn't enter the tiger apartment until Chimney tranqed it."
Tommy wondered at the logistics, whether Maddie's request of Howie arrived before Evan fled the station house, or if the two of them surprised each other by making it to Evan's building at the same time. Maddie breathed in, letting the motion straighten her posture, and stepped away from the counter.
"You didn't enter until after that, either!" Evan turned away from Howie and the grin fell from his face. "Maddie? What's going on?"
Howie glanced at Tommy, who gave a tiny shrug.
She took Evan's hand. "Buck," she said. "Come sit down."
Tommy discarded several names as Howie came and stood next to him.
Maddie sat next to Evan at the table, both of her hands covering his. "Mom called me about an hour ago from the hospital. Dad had been having some chest pain and they found a severe blockage. They went in for a double bypass, but-"
"But what?" Evan asked quietly.
Her face crumpled. "Something went wrong during surgery and they couldn't stop the bleeding." She removed one of her hands from his to stifle a sob. "Dad's gone."
"Shit," Howie whispered.
Maddie shifted the angle of her chair and leaned forward to throw her arms around Evan's neck. After a second or two of shellshock, he returned the embrace, tightening his grip around her. When he met Tommy's gaze, he didn't look sad, or angry. He just looked lost.
"Daddy!" Jee-Yun cried, making the entire room flinch, right before she launched herself at Howie.
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I am already seeing virtue signaling posts from people saying "I don't care what you believe or how you voted..."
That's great. I care. I care a lot. The outcome of this election effects me, but so much more than me. I care. It matters. And if it really doesn't matter to you? Good for you. If you are privileged enough, safe enough, and entitled enough to truly not care about how the election will impact other people... I can't even imagine what that must be like. Nice, I guess?
I spent most of last night and this morning crying.
I'm done with tears now, and have moved on to rage.
And you know what? I promise not to let it burn out. Because smiles and positivity may work for many of us, and I'm not going to lose mine either, I promise not to lose my queer joy--they can rip it from my cold dead hands, not to get too damn dramatic here--but I'm also not in the mood to start forgiving and smiling and welcoming Nazis into the bar.
So. I will hold onto anger. I've been tolerant and accepting long enough in life... and have learned something important about what causes the worst harm.
I have been gay bashed before. Violently. Blood. Broken bones. Lost teeth. And you know what the worst part of the recovery of all of that was, the part that did the most psychological and emotional damage? It wasn't the actual bashing itself. It wasn't even the memory of exactly what it felt like to have something swung full force into my face with extremely violent intent. It was the denial from my "friends" and family afterwards. The people who wanted to deny that it was a hate crime. The people who wanted me to shrug it off and not be upset about it. The people who loved to say oh well it wasn't that bad. You know what helped? Letting myself feel fury. Letting myself name the attack as hate. "It wasn't that bad," though, they said, asif it was their judgment to make--endless hours of dental procedures, pain, wounds that never fully healed, the trauma, the lost work, the new experience of vomiting blood with broken jaws and knocked out teeth. Because it wasn't that bad. And there was so much self-reproach, because I could have avoided it. I wasn't the intended target. He was swinging for a lesbian with me. When the attacker burst out of hiding he was swinging for the side of her head, her temple. I jumped in between them. Didn't think. It was an impulse. Protect the people you care about. So I took it to the face. And I grabbed him. I threw him, and fell doing it. I remember being on my knees in the mud. Seeing my teeth in the mud. Seeing my blood just. Everywhere. And knowing I needed to push back to my feet immediately because it might not be over.
We were lucky. It was over. He hadn't expected anyone to fight back. He ran.
But the people who claimed to love me didn't want to deal with the idea that it was a hate crime. They wanted it to be random and meaningless. That made their world a little safer, I guess. And their denial made my world colder. And my recovery lonelier. Harder. They put me down for "bringing it on myself." As if it would have been more virtuous to let this woman take that attack to her temple, as if I would have been more valid for standing by and watching it happen.
There are so many more stories I can tell you, but the lesson is almost invariably the same: the ugliest hurt is often the one caused by the people who just turn away when you identify what happened to you. The hurts that cut the deepest and last the longest often come from the people we thought we could trust, because they want you to just get over it, don't talk about it, admit it could have been worse, don't call it That.
The betrayal from people who are supposed to have your back? That deepens wounds, deepens trauma.
I won't be that person. I won't tell you to smile and turn the other cheek when someone shows you they hate you. Do whatever you need to do to survive--physically, emotionally, psychologically. Just don't give up, and don't let the cowards force you into feeling shame for not giving up and letting the world break you.
Never be ashamed to refuse to break.
Never let someone shame you for choosing strength. For drawing your line in the sand.
I wanted the "exciting" times of my life to be behind me. But they're not--so be it. I'm not going to tone myself down to be safer. I don't care about my own safety anymore. Any self-preservation drive broke a long time ago when it comes to homophobia. I promise to always be ready to fight. To be a queer menace to "polite" society. I promise to be out and loud and gay, to be a shield however I can for those who can't be out, who can't fight back, who can't even speak up because it wouldn't be safe for them to do so. They are valid, too. And I love them. And I will have their fucking backs. I promise to, in my real off-the-internet life, be someone who will always jump in and speak up if I see queer people being harassed or shamed--especially if they're young. I am older. I will fight for my baby gays. I will love them.
And I will never, never put anyone down for refusing to welcome Nazis into the bar. We don't look the other way and quietly tolerate them. Not here.
I may not be around much for the next few days. I need to handle my own shit. My own fury. My own grief. Because right now, there is so much grief.
But I won't be going anywhere.
I will fight to stay.
Whatever it takes.
I'm not giving up.
If I end up on my knees in the mud again, staring at my own blood and teeth, metaphorically or in fucking reality, so be it. I will get back up. And I will keep getting back up. I won't let go of the anger. The spite. And I definitely won't let go of my love for every queer person, the ones I know and the ones I don't, because that love is what will give me strength to get through this. Whatever comes next.
I may not have much sense of self-preservation. But goddamn, I will fight for you.
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sfw for perri?
Tysm Nonnie!! Perri sfw alphabet beneath the cut c:
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Perri is pretty affectionate! Theyâre not the most touchy-feely person in the world outside of a relationship, but I think dating someone would make them a little more physical. They like hugs and really enjoy holding hands. They really enjoy quality time with a partner, and they definitely show affection by sharing music c:
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Oooh Perriâs a great friend. They have a lot of self-doubt but are very loyalâthough they can be a bit clingy with those theyâre closest to. Theyâre quite fun to hang out with; especially if you catch them during their show. Perriâs willing to start a friendship with basically anybody who seems interested in what they have to say (and doesnât seem like theyâre going to make fun of them for it).
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
In a relationship, Perri loves to cuddle; though, they can get a bit overwhelmed with too much touch. Their favorite way to cuddle would be spooning and listening to music together.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Perri would like to settle down, I think! Theyâre a romantic and love the idea of a long-term partner. Theyâre a decent cook, but they can be a little messy. Their place is never dirty or anything, but it gets cluttered. Lots of piles of books and CDs and records and half-finished glasses of water everywhere.Â
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Oof god uhhhh. I donât know? Perri hates conflict and is so insecure it would be a huge struggle. Theyâd be crying the entire time, I think, and really struggle to get the words out. It would be messy as hell.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Marriage? Eventually, someday, maybe. Perri likes the idea of marriage well enough, though it feels very Big right now. Theyâve never had a serious relationship, after all. Someday, though; and theyâd like a committed relationship even sooner. As soon as possible, actually.Â
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Perri is made out of tissue paper.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Perri loves hugs and theyâre good at giving them. Very soft and warm and tight but not too tight, you know? They get very stressed about making things awkward so the hug would never go on too long or anything. Just right.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
I think theyâd want to wait, but it would slip out without them realizing fairly quickly. And then theyâd blush and stutter and be like, âOhmygodIhopethatâsokaydonâthatemeitâswaytoosoonâ and it would take MC calming them down for them to just be likeâŚâItâs the truth, though. I do.â
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when theyâre jealous?)
HmmmâŚthey donât get jealous as much as they get insecure. Less ��Iâm upset youâre flirting with someone elseâ and more âAm I not good enough??â. And theyâd just avoid the subject, half-convinced that theyâre about to lose it all.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Shy but eager! Very uncertain but theyâd get very into it very quickly. They like stealing any kisses they can getâlittle pecks on the cheeks, dustings of kisses on your hands, lips pressed into your shoulder. No preferenceâsame for being kissed.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Awkward but fun. They like kids a lot but also donât really know how to interact with them. Would very eagerly have a conversation with a child about mothman though.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Groggy and silent. Perriâs a talkative person, for all of their nervous energy, but after a long night of not sleeping, theyâre fairly zombie-esque in the morning. They take a tiny break from their show, long enough to (fail to) sleep, shower, and get breakfast. All of their anxious energy and cheer will be dulled in the mornings, but theyâd still be happier to have you along for the ride.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Oppositeâhyped up, excited. Chances are almost every night will be spent running their show, unless thereâs something else going on, like a monster hunt or a holiday. Theyâre energized, excited, more confident. The moonlight gives them strength. As the night goes on and they donât sleep they fade more and more, but nighttime is their element.Â
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Perriâs a pretty open book; especially because they occasionally will say things without thinking. They blurt out whateverâs on their mind. Even their Trauma and their Lore comes pretty quickly, though theyâll be awkward and embarrassed about it.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Eh, it depends. If you do something to piss them off it takes surprisingly littleâbut there are very few things that will do that. Mocking them or insisting that theyâre wrong in their beliefs is a big one, as is insulting the people they care about. Overall, though, they donât get angry terribly often.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Perri will remember every single random weird fun fact about you and then forget your birthday. Their memory issues donât do them any favors, but any information that their brain decides is interesting will be remembered forever.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Ah, this one will be hard to do. Hm. Instead Iâll tease a future moment, how about? Perriâs first date will be a conversation under the stars c:
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
HmmmâŚI wouldnât call them protective, exactly. Perri isnât really a fighter. Most likely theyâd fall back on their knowledge and their research to try and solve problems. They wouldnât mind being physically protected, thoughâthey like feeling safe.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Theyâd try quite hard, though their memory could cause some issues! They very much so obsess over finding the âperfectâ gift, and would try to plan fun dates. That being said, they sometimes can get carried away by what they want to do.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
They have a habit of letting their insecurities win. Theyâll ask if youâre mad at them and then struggle to believe youâoftentimes asking again. And maybe again. Itâs something they definitely need to work through. On a lighter note, they never finish their drinks. Not a problem, until the bathroom counter is covered in 5 half-empty glasses of water.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Eh, theyâre not any more insecure about their looks than they are anything else. In fact, I think more than anything itâs their personality that they stress about. They think they look fine. They donât consider themself attractive, but they like their clothes and their accessories and their hair, and thatâs good enough for them.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Oh interesting. Hm. Not on the front endâthey donât feel incomplete nowâbut after being in a relationship for a long time, I could see it. Theyâd end up very close to a partner, and it wouldnât feel right without that person after being together for years.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Their favorite candy flavor is green apple, their favorite movie is Tremors, and if they knew what pokemon was, their partner pokemon would be reuniclus.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldnât like, either in general or in a partner?)
Perri struggles with skeptics. They respect the desire to pursue logic, but they hate it when people act like theyâre crazy for believing in the supernatural. They know their experiences are real, and even if they werenâtâŚwhereâs your whimsy? Donât you want the world to be magical? It isnât a dealbreaker (unless youâre an asshole about it), but it isnât their favorite trait in a partner, either.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
On the few occasions theyâre actually able to sleep, they find that they never remember their dreams. It bums them out. The least their brain can do is give them fun scenarios to dream about.
#asks#perri#this was fun!!#trying to keep my mind off of Nothing In Particular tonight#so digging into some perri hcs was nice#perri's so fun and sweet i love them đ
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heeyyy gaaanggg
the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.
#my art#digital art#digital painting#fanart#resident evil 7#ethan winters#goddd PLEAAASEEEE#i havent known if i was gonna post this or not multiple times in the process of drawin this. but ultimately i spent too much time on it to#NOT post it. embarrassment be damned#but at the same time what am i even doin yknow. what is this what is goin on pleaaseee PLEASEEEEE#I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RESIDENT EVIL!!! I DONT KNOW N O T H I NG I KNOW LESS THAN NOTHING#HOW?? HOW DID I GET HERE??? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN???? i know exactly the answer to all those questions but it still boggles me how fast this#happened. usually it takes WEEKS if not MONTHS for me to start makin fanart. this was faaasttttt TOO FAST and im like. genuinely constantly#thinkin about this game. im ALWAYS thinkin about this game. part of why this took me so long to do is cause i always wanna play re7 or thin#about re7 in a strange and deranged way. ive actually genuinely been SICK WHAT HAPPENEDDDDDD#im losing it!! anyways this took me a looonggg ass time and i redrew it soo many timmmessss#i did like. 3 lineart passes. the album version i did 3 shading passes. i really struggled!! and ultimately i dont know how i feel about it#like i kinda resent it. for takin so long and makin me suffer so much#never again. never again will i spend that much time on a drawing. i HATE when drawins take a long time. i HATE that. it makes me madddd#ive been insane. ive been so insane. and im not gettin better like i cant sleep sometimes cause im thinkin about this game and this guy and#that gal like i think about them!! so! so much!! oh my god!!#in the time it took me to finish this ive done like 10 sketches for other pieces like. and ive had like 3 ideas ive written down.#and like 50 that i havent written or sketched.#IVE WRITTEN POETRY!! P O E T R Y !!!#i write the occasional poem when im feelin some kinda profound emotion but i NEVER write poetry about media SOBBING#anyways thats the post i think this is the beginnin of the end so lets hold hands and pray. ugh sorry if i get sick. im shakin.
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who will i become
#closeups under the cut cause this thang is huge#đ#slay the princess#the shifting mound#i guess. i dont really know how to tag this well sorry#just wanted to draw all the chapter 3s cause theyre all so fun i love them#not the happiest with how the razor and the wraith look but thats why theyre towards the back#at least i got to draw the connected wild that was fun as hell#lalala#i think i spent too long on this and am starting to hate it but im happy enough with it#and now its done and i can move on. goodbye!
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gay person that points at gay people
#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 3#yakuza series#yakuza 3#yoshitaka mine#snap sketches#can we tell this started out as just a face study#i was just trying to draw mine's face cause Even After All This Time I'm Still Fickle About It#and then one thing led to another and. well. now we're here#i was just taking a cute little break from commissions and then of course i became possessed. typical !!#and yes i am still fickle on how i feel bout how i draw his face. i dont think this is bad but something always feels missing#maybe his lips.... OH WELL#i dont hate how i draw him i do like it just Again there always feels like somethings missin#oh well im not gonna dawdle on it too long ive spent enough time muckin around with this anyway
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i just donât understand. why say ur ready to talk if you arenât?
can u believe this post is what got me to reach tag limit
#vaugepostimg on main about an irl donât mind me#i just. am feeling sad bcus i have been trying to keep my distance and respect the space they said they needed. and then they reached out to#me for their book club and said we should chat and i got excited! i miss my friend of course i got excited#still let them take the lead. i want them to be comfortable. they said theyâd lmk what day they were free#and then proceeded to ghost me for like. almost two weeks??#(âit was 10 days but !!! still!!! almost 2 weeks from them suggesting i come to book club which wouldâve inherently necessitated an irl talk#and then after all that yesterday said they actually werenât ready which. hurted#tbf i knew something was up after like 2 days of them not replying so itâs not like i was fully caught off guard it just really hurt#and like i feel weird bcus our social circles are really overlapped and i spent a lot of time with them last winter and i had thought#that would happen again this winter. we would swim together a lot and i consistently went to their house dinners#bcus if i care about you i show up! and iâm understanding ! bcus i am patient and kind person and as a triple taurus iâm not tryna rush ever#especially when it comes to peopleâs emotions ??? especially if someone has told me i hurt them???? like ik im an autistic lesbian but#despite popular conceptions on that particular identity. im not fucking evil ????? if you ask for space i will give you space !!!!!#and like when it comes to emotions and conflict iâm blunt but iâm caring and it takes a lot for me to be disinfranchised by people#or relationships. so iâm not saying i donât want to still be her friend#iâm just. noticing behaviors#they did tell me that they were very avoidant in conflict and i told them iâm very much not and like. now that iâm on the receiving end of i#idk what to do!! iâm not gonna chase her down like theyâre grown!! and again!!! if you ask for space iâm going to respect that!!!#and like honestly. iâm happy she at least gave me the curtesy of saying they werenât ready to talk even if it took her mad long to do it#so like. who tf knows when weâll talk. if ever. probably when she wants the validation of our friendship if it even happens at all#bcus again. she reached out not to reconnect and clear the air but to check if i still wanted to come to her club she was starting#ik in earlier conversations she was worried no one would come but ig she found people. which like good for her tbh but to be honest i feel#discarded?? iâm feeling like iâm failing to not project too much so i gotta stop but idk man iâm just feeling weird about it all#and then i had the thought today of like. is this what i want in a friendship? someone who goes back and forth abt whether or not iâm worth#which again. kinda wasnât expecting that bcus we spent so much time together last autumn/winter/spring like. many times per week!!!#so the idea of not being her friend all of a sudden?? feels fucjing weird to think about#but like? i donât want to feel this way this is what i hate about west coast/white people conflict resolution!! there fucking isnât any!!!#and i canât deal with that! i canât spend my life with people who arenât going to engage with me as a person who cares about them#humans are fallible creatures and were only here on earth for so long so why are we wasting time here? what is the point of all this ???????#but then the guilt and shame say i deserve it all and at that point i just need to stop so. iâm gonna stop now lol
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if I'm chattering about my friends/crush here all the time anyway, I have to admit that I have a severe aversion to philosophy after whatever the fuck happened the last year of secondary school (so the year right before university) and I have personal beef with Plato, but my crush is actually interested in that and tbh... I will not go out of my way to study it, but I would probably hang onto every word my crush would say about it and I should maybe tame my first reaction of distaste (though, the intro to philosophy class I had last year wasn't That Great either, so I don't have a lot of good experiences academically with that subject)
#morningtalks#Gotta at least share some fun stuff and now just the Might Have Gone Horribly Wrong In So Many Ways event at the end#God I love this girl so much#And we're starting to spend more time together. It's fun#We spent a decent chunk of last night playing a 5000 year old boardgame#I eventually won but it was close the entire time#And while she was often the one enduring awkward stories about her being told she kinda did it to herself a bit#And I did try to defend her whenever I could#With a mutual friend of ours we might also have developed a new very weird inside joke#But like. Really weird...#But the night was genuinely so much fun#Even when we were at the bar. I hate bars I hate dancing I hate loud music I hate the lights but my friends were there#And she especially was there and it was fun. I had so much fun#I am still very much shaken by what happened (it was less than 24 hours ago ...)#But I am genuinely mad that they soured the entire memory of this night so much#I had fun. We laughed we joked I was so close to her the entire night she did sexy dances at me and I got a bruise#But it all had to be ruined in the most terrifying of ways#Again. I was most importantly scared for her safety. Mine was secundary as long as she somehow wouldn't get hurt#But I want to think about the good things that happened that night too. It was so incredible and I don't regret any of it#Well maybe having moved a bit while she danced (and even then I barely moved. She just calculated the distance poorly) which led to said#Bruise. But it was in such a funny context and she said she was fine after so it's all just one funny event in a super fun night
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL â
FC43
PAIRING ⌠franco colapinto x fem!sargeant!reader
SUMMARY ⌠with your brother's seat being taken by your admirer of the past year, you try your best to stay clear, but it's hard when franco is trying so goddamn hard to get your attention [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ⌠cursing, very minor hate comments
REQUESTED ⌠here!
NOTES ⌠i am NOT fluent in italian or spanish so please correct me if i've messed up on either of them! i count this as the best of both worlds because i love having franco on the grid but i'm missing my goat logan. the faceclaim i've used is marissa long but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
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tagged logansargeant
yourusername logie, my bestest friend and the best older brother i could ever ask for. i am so so SO proud of you and the journey you have had during your formula one seasons. so many memories have been made, and i know that i will never ever forget the times we spent in the williams paddock, just having fun together (& bullying alex, obviously). the williams social media page won't be the same without me posting slips of you. trust me when i say this isn't the end, but simply the beginning. lots of love always and forever, y/n đ
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logansargeant â¤ď¸
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 94,522 others
yourusername someone hit me up with an italian man please, i love this country
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user4 oh she's taking it
user5 mother as perrrr
user6 the sargeant genetics are LETHALLL
user7 please someone tell me why is she in italy if her brother doesn't drive for williams anymore?
user8 she's the williams social media manager!! she started in the same year as logan x
logansargeant baby sis â¤ď¸
yourusername love you sm đ
francolapinto did you know i'm actually half italian?
francolapinto sei molto bellađđ (you are very pretty)
user9 second year running and he's after y/n AGAIN IM CRYING
user10 after taking her brother's seat too PLEASEEE he has guts i have to give it to him
user11 FRANCO'S COMMENT I'M DYINGGGG
user12 and the way she's ignoring it too oh my days đ it's been a year and he's still on this
imessages ( y/n )
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 92,801 others
yourusername week off đ
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user16 farm girl???
user17 where is she đđ
yourusername my best friend's farm đ
user18 multi-talented girl fr
user19 she looks like she BELONGS fr
user20 she def doesn't want to go back to the old 9-5
yourusername oh def not
yourbsf my angel đŞ˝đ¤
yourusername best time w you alwaysss đ
francolapinto never wanted to be a goat so badly
user21 I AM PISSING MYSELF
user22 HE IS SO BLATANT AT THIS POINTTTT
user23 @/yourusername PLEASE WE NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FRANCO'S COMMENTS
user24 she def won't answer but it's still so fucking funny i can't
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 97,210 others
yourusername most beautiful place đ
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user28 beautyyyy
user29 please y/n we need to see your pinterest RIGHT NOW the vibes are everything
user30 okay but...you & franco??
user31 what about letting people have some privacy, hm?
user32 oh wowwww
francolapinto not as beautiful as you đâ¤ď¸
yourusername đ¤Łđ¤Ł
user33 FRANCO YOU DID IT!!!
user34 watch as franco puts y/n noticed x1 in his bio now
user35 THE WAY HE ACTUALLY DID IT. GIRL...
user34 I AM CREASING I CANNOT
lilymhe baby girl đ
yourusername my lilypad i love you to bits!!
logansargeant are you sure you and that lion aren't twins
yourusername i'm thinking we were separated at birth??
liked by francolapinto, alex_albon, and 699,303 others
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williamsracing and just like that, mr colapinto is a point scorer in formula one, in his second ever race!! congratulations franco, take a bow đđ
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user38 CONGRATULATIONS FRANCOOO!!
user39 big question is...which admin posted this?
user40 one MILLION percent y/n. no doubt about it.
user41 you can tell y/n posted this bc of her signature pink heart HAHA
user42 i just know somewhere franco is kicking his feet and giggling over y/n telling him to take a bow for his performance
user43 oh franco colapinto you have won me over
user44 seeing this and lowkey feeling so sad for logan
user45 no but imagine how y/n must feel?? her brother just leaving and having to post this, she must hate franco right about now
user46 honestly, judging by the post race interview, i think y/n is fine with franco scoring points, tbh!
yourusername đđđ
francolapinto hearts â¤ď¸
user47 I AM SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE??
imessages ( franco )
imessages ( y/n )
liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 101,989others
yourusername đŚ˘đŚ˘
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user48 IS MISS Y/N OUT ON A DATE???
user49 facecard could kill.
user50 Y/N ON A DATE WHO CHEERED
user51 someone check up on franco like right now.
user52 either franco is the guy in the pictures and that's why he's not commenting, or he's entered a depressive state
user53 knowing his dramatic ass it could be either
alex_albon mystery man đđ¤
yourusername shhhh albon
logansargeant i'll fight him if he hurts you đ
yourusername love you too logie đ§¸
imessages ( y/n )
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tagged francolapinto
yourusername city break đŚđˇ
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user54 FRANCO CAMEO FRANCO CAMEO THIS IS NOTTTT A DRILL
user55 I AM SCREAMING
user56 alexa play how you get the girl by taylor swift
user57 she's in his hometown...so this serious stuff now
user58 Y/N I LOVE YOU FOR THIS
francolapinto đâ¤ď¸â¤ď¸
yourusername đđ
logansargeant willing to fly out to collect you if i have to đŤĄ
yourusername i promise you i'm fine đ
liked by alex_albon, yourusername, and 1,112,091 others
tagged yourusername
francolapinto 1 AĂO DESPUĂS⌠¥¥TENGO A LA CHICA!! ÂĄÂĄVAMOS!! la persona mĂĄs hermosa por dentro y por fuera, con el corazĂłn mĂĄs grande que jamĂĄs haya existido. estoy tan feliz en este momento que las palabras no pueden explicarlo. te amo te amo te amo â¤ď¸ (1 YEAR LATER⌠I GOT THE GIRL!! COME ON!! the most beautiful person inside and out, with the biggest heart that ever lived. i am so happy right now that words cannot explain it. i love you i love you i love you â¤ď¸)
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user59 original y/n franco fans RISE
user60 WE ARE THE REAL WINNERS!!
user61 oh he is in love for real
user62 need someone to love me how he loves y/n
user63 their love is so so special
user64 okay but how's logan feeling about all this...? must be so awkward...
user65 judging by his comment...i think he's doing absolutely fine đ¤Ł
logansargeant hurt her and i'm at your doorstep. đ
francolapinto will never be a problem đŤĄ
yourusername you're the cutest ever
yourusername FRANCO đ¤Łđ¤Ł
francolapinto let me share my love for you, no?
yourusername i wanna kiss you so bad rn
logansargeant keep it pg-13 please.
yourusername logan.
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
TAGS ⌠@shepgurl ; @blushmimi ; @nyxx-knight ; @fall-bambi ; @suns3treading ; @wowzees ; @d3kstar ; @poppysrin ; @ailooosworld ; @joalslibrary ; @dejavuontrack ; @dripostsstuff ; @kaylassturniolo
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 smau#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 imagines#requests#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x you#williams racing#mclqren
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You Make Loving Fun
Summary: You buy tickets to Fleetwood Mac for Javi's birthday. After a few drinks, Javi ends up having a little more fun than he intended.
Pairing: Husband!Javier PeĂąa x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, creampie, aftercare, implied? breeding kink (I think it's illegal for me to write if this isn't in the warnings somewhere) drinking alcohol, Javi gets absolutely HAMMERED, talks of having more kids and stopping birth control, Drunk Javi wants to tell anyone and everyone how much he loves his wife, Drunk Javi being sweet and happy and so in love because that's what he deserves
A/N: If you're anything like me, you've spent WAY too long looking at all of these photos of sweet Pedro at a concert, and of course, my brain automatically went "THAT'S JAVI GETTING WASTED AND HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE" and now, here we are đ¤ˇđźââď¸ I feel like Javi would be a very happy/affectionate drunk post-Colombia bc he is so happy just to be having fun and enjoying his life and that makes me â¨emotional⨠Also, thanks @itsokbbygrl for ruining my life by realizing the ring Pedro is wearing in this picture is on his RING FINGER?!?! đŠ
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
âI feel to fucking old to be doing this.â
âTo do what? Go to a concert? I hate to break it to you, Jav, but there are, in fact, no age limits at concerts. What, are you worried security is gonna try to kick you out for being too old?â You giggled, looking over at Javi next to you in the bathroom, finishing fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt.Â
âI know, I just havenât been to a concert in so damn long. Definitely not since weâve had the girls.â Javi sighed, running his hand through the dark curls of his hair once more before turning to face you, still finishing up the last of your makeup in the mirror.Â
Although you had intended for your Fleetwood Mac tickets to be a surprise for Javiâs birthday, trying to coordinate around your schedules and 3 little girls had made spontaneous date nights much more challenging than they used to be when you first met. But, with Chucho needing no incentive to babysit his granddaughters, you and Javi were excited to have a night out just the two of you, getting to enjoy your favorite band together, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate another year of Javi getting older.Â
âWell then lucky for you, youâll be the hottest dad at the concert.â You smirked, sassily tilting your head towards him to prove your point, your reaction just enough to snap him out of his self doubt, Javi joining in on the laughter as he stood behind you, grabbing your waist and placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder next to the strap of your sundress.Â
âGood thing Iâve got a fucking hot MILF of a wife to go with me then, huh?â Javi grinned, the kiss he had left on your shoulder now slowly starting to creep up your neck and collarbone as his hand reached down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeal in surprise. âI know you picked this dress out on purpose because you know it drives me fucking crazy. God, you look good.âÂ
âJavi! You better stop or weâre gonna be late to dinner before the show!â You scolded, giving him a playful jab to his stomach, only making him tighten the grip on your ass even firmer with his other hand coming to join his first.Â
âHermosa,â He cooed, gently turning you around to take the mascara you had in your hand and set it on the counter before cradling your jaw in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, âI know you. And you and I both know damn well you at least put enough a little buffer time into our plans for us to have sex before we left. Am I wrong?âÂ
Well, he caught you there, because he most certainly was not.Â
âMaybeâŚâ You replied sheepishly, overdramatically rolling your eyes at his statement, only making his boyish grin spread wider between his cheeks, âOkay, but seriously though, we do have to be quick, because I donât want to- Ah! Javi!âÂ
You couldnât help but let out a little shriek of surprise as Javi suddenly lifted you up, setting you down on the bathroom counter and caging your body under his, his arms planted on either side of your hips as his mouth crashed into yours, tongues and teeth dancing in a hungry and desperate clash.Â
âI promise I wonât take too long. But I canât help myself when you look this good, mi amor. Eres tan hermosa (Youâre so beautiful). Youâre gonna kill me in that dress, Momma.â Javi hummed, his hands now gripping the meat of your thighs and sliding down your legs to bunch up the skirt of your dress, hiking it up as he sank down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter.Â
You could already feel the damp patch that had begun to grow in your underwear as Javi hooked his fingers around the elastic of its waistband, tugging the fabric down your legs and letting it fall to the bathroom floor, revealing your pussy, already wet and aching for him.Â
Javi settled himself between your legs, draping them over his shoulders as his fingers slid through your folds, collecting your juices before beginning to circle at your clit with the pads of his fingers, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs as you whimpered in delight.Â
âJ-Javi, please, baby.â You moaned, fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb replaced his fingers on your clit, his middle and ring finger dipping inside your already weeping core, curling just slightly as he began to pump them in and out of you.Â
It wasnât long before his thumb was replaced by his mouth, the flat of his tongue licking a broad strip across your cunt, the new sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. No matter how many times Javi had gone down on you, it never failed to surprise you how goddamn good he was at it, memorizing every twitch and gasp that made you fall apart in the best way possible, and tonight was no exception.Â
His slow, long strokes began to quicken, circling his tongue around your clit with the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers worked in tandem, curving in just the right place to press against your g-spot and begin to build the arousal swirling in your core.Â
As much as you (and Javi, for that matter), would have loved to have taken your time and let him eat you out on the bathroom counter for hours, the both of you knew you were on a time crunch, but not enough of a crunch to stop Javi from making you cum at least once before he fucked you.Â
The pressure of his tongue on your sensitive nub became more and more, before latching his lips to suck at your clit, your cunt clenching in anticipation around his fingers as you writhed beneath his touch, moaning his name as you felt your orgasm begin to build.Â
You couldnât help but let your hand shoot down to his head, your fingers burying themselves in his thick, brown locks, with absolutely no regard for the time he had just spent fixing his hair in the mirror just a few minutes ago. Â
âJavi⌠Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please, Iâm so close.â You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face.Â
You could practically feel Javiâs smug smirk pressed against your cunt before pulling away to respond. âGive it to me, pretty girl. Wanna taste you all over me when you soak my face.â
Before you could reply, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt, each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.
Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- Iâm gonna, Iâm gonna-ahhhhhh.â You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.Â
âThatâs it, baby girl. Fuck, youâre so perfect. Love this pussy so fucking much.â He groaned, reaching down to frantically undo his belt buckle, his fingers working rapidly to undo the metal clasp before pushing his pants and boxers down his legs, letting them pool in a pile around his ankles.Â
Still coming down from your high, your breath hitched as the tip of Javiâs cock ran through your folds, coating his length in your arousal before slipping inside you. You couldnât help but gasp even harder at the new sensation of his fullness inside you, cockhead already kissing your cervix as his hips flushed with yours.Â
Javiâs hands began to wander up your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until he got to your hips, digging his fingertips in the soft fabric as he thrust in and out of you, mouths melding together as one.Â
âFuck, you feel so good, Hermosa. So fucking wet for me, taking me so well.â Javi moaned, nipping at your ear as his pace became faster, fucking into you in the spot he knew made you lose all control, silently smirking at the pathetic whimpers that were escaping your lips.Â
Javi buried his face in the crook of your neck as your legs began to instinctively lock around the small of his back, bringing him closer to you with each thrust. You could already feel that all too familiar tingle building at the base of your spine once again, wanting to feel every inch of him you could deeper and deeper inside you before you came.Â
With the way the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, you knew you didnât have much longer until your orgasm was about to crash though you, finding yourself grasping fistfuls of Javiâs shirt for dear life as you mumbled incoherently.Â
âO-oh shit, Javi. Fuck, F-fuck, donât stop baby. Please, donât stop.âÂ
You could practically hear the hum of satisfaction deep in Javiâs chest feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, his firm grasp of his hands on your hips holding you in place on the counter as he pounded into you.Â
âCâmon Osita. Cum all over me. Give it to me and I swear Iâm gonna fuck you so full of me, Iâll be dripping out of you all night.âÂ
âYes, fuckfuckfuck, please, Javi.âÂ
âIs that what you want? You gotta be a good girl and cum for me first, baby.âÂ
That was all it took for you to break before you could feel a wave of pleasure rushing through your body, euphoria running through your veins as you came, crying out Javiâs name like a prayer as he started to chase his own high. His thrusts became frantic and sloppy, his brows furrowing in focus to hold out just a little longer until your body melted into his in your blissed out state.Â
âThatâs it, hermosa. I love you so much. I- oh shit- Iâm close, too. F-fuck, Iâm gonna fill this tight little pussy so full of me that it- oh fuckkkkkkkk.â With a few more pumps, a moan escaped from Javiâs parted lips as he came, spilling himself deep inside your walls. The warm mix of his spend and your arousal dripped out of you as his cock softened, whimpering at the loss as he pulled out, but catching your muffled moans in his mouth as his lips met yours, cradling your face in his palm.Â
Through your heavy breaths from heaving chests, you and Javi both couldnât help but smile and laugh to yourselves as your foreheads rested against each other, quietly whispering âI love youâ to each other in sync, your bodies slumped together in a blissed out heap on the bathroom counter.Â
âFuck, youâre so hot. Iâll never get over it.â Javi smirked, biting down on his lip after giving you another quick kiss, rummaging through your bathroom cabinets to pull out a washcloth to clean you up with.
âTakes one to know one, PeĂąa.â You giggled, letting out a content sigh as you let your head fall back, closing your eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder to see Javi, and behind Javi, the clock that you both had very much not been paying attention to in the midst of your antics.
âOh fuckâŚâÂ
âAlready did that, mi amor,â Javi teased, running the washcloth under the warm water of the sink, âWhatâs wrong?â
Without saying a word, you gestured to the clock hanging on the bathroom wall with a defeated shrug, Javi turning around with a quiet laugh to himself, shrugging his shoulders right along with you.Â
âYouâd think after how long weâve been together weâd start giving ourselves even more time than we think to leave for things, huh?âÂ
âYou would think, huh?â You giggled, accepting defeat that the two of you would most definitely not be making it to your dinner reservations that you had planned before the concert. âSorry, Jav.â
 âWhat do you have to be sorry about, cariĂąo? Fuck, I get to have amazing sex with my beautiful wife before we go see our favorite band, what a horrible birthday night so far.â Javi teased, giving you a reassuring nudge that you had nothing to apologize for. âI think the real question isâŚâÂ
âIs what, Mr. Sarcasm?âÂ
âWhat size fries do you want with your McDonaldâs Coke and McNuggets for dinner?âÂ
âHow did you know I was gonna say we should get McDonaldâs for dinner?!âÂ
âBecause Osita, I swear I know you better than I know myself.âÂ
After some quick touch ups and a call to Chucho to say goodnight to your daughters before you left, you and Javi were on the road, happily enjoying your McDonaldâs and taking turns picking your favorite Fleetwood Mac songs to jam out to, spending your ride debating what songs theyâd play, reminiscing about the songs you loved, and singing at the top of your lungs, to the point you were positive you would have no voice tomorrow.Â
While you hadnât been able to keep the concert itself a secret, the one thing you had been able to hide from your husband was the fact that you had managed to get not just good, but great seats for the show. If Javi had known how much youâd spent for him on his birthday, he would have insisted on finding cheaper tickets, but if there was anyone who was deserving of getting to see his favorite band from an incredible view, it was him.Â
From the moment the two of you had entered the venue, you had your tickets peeled to your chest to keep them from Javi, reassuring him that you knew where you were going, much to his dismay and insisting that working together would help you find your seats quicker.Â
After a few minutes of wandering and secretly maneuvering to the right section of the stadium, you had finally found where you belonged, excitedly pulling Javi along behind you towards your seats.
âBaby, not that I donât trust your navigation skills, but I feel like weâre down way too far in the stands. â Javi questioned, his hand in yours as you dragged him through the crowd, looking back and forth between your ticket stub and the stadium rows to find your spots.Â
âNot to burst your bubble, Jav, but my navigation skills are as on point as they ever have been.â You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest before handing him over your tickets, his face stunned and in shock as he read the small stubs of card stock, realizing you had absolutely led the both of you to the right place.Â
âHappy early birthday, Javi. I know the concert itself wasnât a surprise, but I hope that these seats are still a good one.âÂ
âOsita⌠Baby, you canât be seriousâŚâ Javiâs jaw dropped, eyes going wide in shock, convinced you had to be joking or playing some sort of prank on him.Â
âSerious as a heart attack, Jav.âÂ
Javi stood there speechless, tears welling in his eyes with an awestruck grin on his face, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle and squeal in delight.Â
âGod, I love you so much. Thank you, Hermosa. This is⌠fuck, this is absolutely incredible. Thank you. I donât- this is way more than I deserve. Thank you so much.âÂ
Your heart swelled at the boyish grin spread across Javiâs face as he looked out at the view in front of him, knowing that if you could give your husband the world in his pocket, you would in a heartbeat, but to see his excitement over some seats at a concert would do just fine.Â
âYouâre so welcome, baby. You do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. You are the most amazing, wonderful husband and dad. If I could get you up there on stage with Stevie Nicks, I would, because thatâs what you deserve.âÂ
âI think the last thing anyone needs is to hear me even attempt to sing.âÂ
âThe girls love it when you sing to them.âÂ
âThatâs because they donât know any better. Give it a few more years and Iâm sure theyâll be begging me to stop.âÂ
âWhat they know wonât hurt âem,â you laughed, giving Javi a playful shrug, âAlso, the other part of this gift is that I am driving us home from the concert, so you can have as much fun as you want.âÂ
âBaby, you donât have to-âÂ
âI can and I will,â You sassed defiantly, cutting Javi off before he could oppose your offer, âYou always drive so I can have a good time, and you deserve to have time to let loose, too. So, with that being said, I am going to go get us drinks. Drunk Javi is one of my favorite Javiâs and I donât get to see him very often. Okay?âÂ
âOkay. Thanks, Hermosa. I love you.âÂ
âI love you too, Jav. Now, what do you want to drink?âÂ
âSurprise me.â He laughed, giving you a quick kiss and a subtle smack on your ass as you walked past him to make your way back to the concession stand. âDrunk Javi is really one of your favorites?âÂ
âAbsolutely. Drunk Javi loves to dance. Drunk Javi also gets very sweet and a little handsy, both of which I am more than okay with.âÂ
A few drinks deep and the opening bands finished, Javi, or better yet, Drunk Javi, was having the absolute time of his life. For as fun and goofy Javi was at home with you and the girls, it was few and far between that the former DEA agent found himself intoxicated out in public with a case of dancing shoes and uncontrollable giggles.Â
âGod, Iâm having so much fun. Are you having fun, Hermosa? Youâre the best wife ever, you know that?â Javi grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pecked a sloppy kiss onto your cheek before taking another sip of his beer.Â
âGlad to know you donât have a secret wife who you like better than me.â You teased, giving him a little nudge and giggling at his drunken state, a little surprised when all of a sudden his face turned serious, setting down his beer to cup your jaw with his palms and forcing his gaze on his.Â
âBaby, you know I would never ever do that, right? I literally love you so much. You and the girls are my whole world. I think I would rather die than be with anyone else besides you. No, I know I would rather die than be with anyone else. You are literally perfect.â Javi pleaded, his concerned, big, brown puppy dog eyes making your heart melt.Â
âYes, Mr. Dramatic, I know you would never have a secret wife, but thank you for your very adamant confirmation.â You giggled, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another kiss, washing the worry away from the concerned furrow of his brow. âYou are such a goofball. I love you so much too, Jav. I promise, Iâm not going anywhere either. Well, actually, thatâs a lie. I do need to go to the bathroom before Fleetwood Mac comes on, but I will be right back.âÂ
âOkay, mi amor. Iâll be right here when you get back.â Javi nodded adamantly, knowing in his drunken state he would be taking his job of not leaving your seats very seriously until you safely returned.Â
âI know you will, Javi. Iâll be quick, okay? Need anything when Iâm gone? Besides another drink?âÂ
âHow did you know I was gonna say I needed another drink?â Javi asked in complete shock, like you had just showed him the worldâs most inconceivable magic trick.Â
âIâd say the almost empty bottle was a good clue.â You winked, giving his arm a little squeeze before shimmying your way through the row of seats and up the stairs to find the nearest bathroom and concession stand.Â
Normally, Javi wasnât one to strike up small talk with strangers just for the fun of it, but with his lowered inhibitions, he couldnât help but find himself turning to the group of women seated next to him to kill the time before you came back from the bathroom.Â
âHave you guys seen Fleetwood Mac before?â Javi shrugged, finishing the last bit of beer at the bottom of his bottle.Â
âYeah, weâve seen them a few times! Theyâre really good live!â One of the women responded, her friends nodding in agreement.Â
âIâve seen âem before too, but this is my wife and Iâs first time seeing them together. She got me the tickets for my birthday, but she surprised me with how good these seats were. Sheâs amazing.â Javi beamed, subtly nodding his head to the music playing in the background between sets.Â
âAwh, thatâs so sweet!â One of the other women chimed in, the three women laughing to themselves at how drunk and awestruck Javi was over you.Â
âIt is. I hope they play Everywhere. Itâs our favorite song by them. We played it at our wedding when she walked down the aisle and I bawled like a baby. She looked so beautiful. Who am I kidding? Sheâs the most beautiful woman Iâve ever met. Like, ever.â Javiâs grin was growing wider by the second, staring off into the distance as he rambled on about you.Â
âOh my goodness, you are so cute. Sheâs a lucky lady.â The women smiled, incredibly entertained by everything Javi had to say.Â
âNo. Iâm the lucky one.â Javi responded, stone cold serious as he pointed to himself, finger poking his chest. âHave you seen her? Sheâs so pretty. And she married me! And on top of that, we have a family, too! Can you believe it?!âÂ
âWith how in love with her you seem to be, I 100% can. How many kids do you have?âÂ
â3 daughters. Lucy is 5, Elliot just turned 3, and Harper is 7 months old.â Javi counted on his fingers, holding up 3 to represent each of his girls. âI love them so much. Being a dad is like, the most coolest thing ever. And sheâs such a good mom. Theyâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me.âÂ
âHey, Chatterbox.â You laughed, gently tapping Javi on the shoulder, trying not to startle him as he turned around, beaming from ear to ear at your presence. âHere is your drink and- oh!âÂ
âOsita! I missed you.â Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence in his mouth with a strong kiss, pulling away to greet you with a goofy grin, followed by a confused frown. âWait, where did you go?âÂ
âOh boy, weâre gonna have to pick some Gatorade and Tylenol up on the way home, arenât we? I was just going to the bathroom, remember? And to get you another drink, silly goose.â You giggled, holding out his beer for him.Â
âOh shit. I should probably go to the bathroom, too. Do you think I have enough time to go? I donât wanna miss anything with you!â Javi questioned frantically, realizing he definitely had not utilized the bathroom to the extent he probably should have.Â
âYou should be fine, babe. The lines were pretty short, so if you hurry Iâm sure youâll be back in plenty of time.â You reassured him.Â
âPhew, okay, I can go fast, no problem. Iâll be right back, hermosa.â Carefully taking back his beer as he handed it off to you, Javi quickly scrambled through the crowd to follow the path you had just returned from, leaving you laughing to yourself and shaking your head.Â
âWe just wanted to let you know, your husband is absolutely adorable.â One of the women furthest away from you piped up, catching your attention.Â
âOh, um, thank you?â You replied, tilting your head in confusion.Â
âThat man is utterly obsessed with you. I think he had more nice things to say about you in 30 seconds to a group of strangers than any of my exes ever did combined.âÂ
âGirl, not to mention he is handsome. You are one lucky woman. Who knew it would take a stranger in love at a Fleetwood Mac concert to once again raise the bar for men.âÂ
âWow, uh, thank you. Thatâs really nice of you. Iâm not gonna lie, heâs pretty darn great.â You blushed, trying to keep your smile from spreading too wide at their compliments for Javi over his affection for you.Â
âOf course. We wonât bother you anymore, but figured youâd like to know that your man is still head over heels for you. Enjoy the rest of the concert!âÂ
âThanks, you guys too!â You smirked, your eyes darting down towards your feet to hide the red glow of your cheeks, your heart bursting with warmth from the fact that even in his drunken state, you found yourself falling harder and harder for Javi every day.Â
Suddenly, the lights around the stage began to dim, the roar of the crowd overtaking the stadium, signaling Fleetwood Mac were only moments away from taking the stage. Instinctively, you peeked your head behind you through the crowd to look for Javi, relieved when you saw his broad figure hustling down the stairs, waving at you with a goofy grin the whole way.Â
"I was worried I was gonna have to come find you before the show started!â You sighed, grabbing Javiâs face and giving his cheeks a playful squeeze before giving him a quick peck on the lips.Â
âOsita, you know I wouldnât miss this for the world.âÂ
Any high hopes that you had for the show were surpassed, and then some. The band played all of your favorites, the both of you singing and dancing along, probably making complete fools of yourselves, but you couldnât care less.Â
You were particularly impressed with Javiâs over dramatic stomping and air drumming to âThe Chainâ to kick off the show, having to grab his beer to keep it from spilling all over himself several times throughout his performance. Although incredibly offbeat, Javi's enthusiasm made up for any drunken lack of rhythm throughout the song.
The both of you couldnât help but shout along to âI Donât Wanna Knowâ at the top of your lungs, painfully off key and obnoxiously loud, Javi reaching down to grab your finger, wrapping his hands around it to use as his own makeshift microphone for the entire duration of the song.Â
During âLandsideâ, you found Javi standing behind you, chest pressed to your back and arms wrapped around you as you swayed back and forth, gently wiping your tears and choking back his own as he whispered in your ear how lucky he was to build his life around you and your girls, mumbling something about how if any of the girls get married and pick this song to do a father daughter dance to, heâd be an absolute mess.Â
By the end of the concert, you and Javi were both exhausted, giving every last ounce of energy to âGo Your Own Wayâ, the crowd erupting with thunderous applause as the show came to a close, lights flashing and confetti exploding from the ends of the stage in an array of bright colors in the same way your heart felt like it was exploding with joy from the incredible time you had with Javi.Â
Over the cheers and hollers, Javi leaned in, cupping your cheek in his palm, the other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, capturing you in a kiss that seemed to make time stop and everyone else disappear, feeling like in that moment, no one else existed but the two of you.Â
âI love you so much, Osita.âÂ
âI love you too, Javi.â
âTonight was- Oh shit, hold on,â Javi paused, letting out a long, low burp, a signature Drunk Javi move, placing his hand over his chest and letting out a long sigh before speaking again, âSorry, that felt good. Wait, what was I saying again?âÂ
âThat you had a lot of fun. I think itâs time that we get you home, cowboy.â You couldnât help but snort at his impressive display of flatulence, wrapping your arm around his waist as you walked with the flow of the crowd departing from the stadium, hand patting his hip in reassurance.Â
It wasnât until you began to try and travel up the stairs and through the sea of concert goers that you realized just how drunk Javi was. While wrapping your arm around his hip had started off as a sweet gesture to help guide him in the right direction to leave, you began to worry that you were going to have to try and keep him up until the two of you got to the car.Â
Thankfully, your humming, happy as can be Javi made it to your parking spot, breaking free of your grasp to race to your car, tugging at the driverâs side door with profound confusion at itâs locked state.Â
âHermosa! The car is locked! How are we gonna get home if we canât get in?â Javi fretted, tugging harder at the door handle.Â
âI have the keys, baby, donât worry.â You laughed, reaching into your purse to unlock the truckâs doors, sending Javi stumbling backwards as the driverâs side swung open from his last tug at the handle. âAlso, you are on the wrong side there, pendejo. Iâm driving home, remember?âÂ
âOh fuck, you are! I was gonna say, I think Iâm a lil drunk. I probably shouldnât drive.â Javi grimaced, quickly scampering to the other side of the car as you unlocked it, laughing as you watched him squeeze into the passenger set that was clearly set for your stature and not his.Â
âI think you might be more than just a little drunk, baby.â You corrected, clicking in your seatbelt and firing up the ignition, peeling out of your parking spot.Â
âYeah, Iâm a lot a bit drunk. Iâm sorry, Osita.â He pouted, slumping his face in his hand, elbow resting on the center console.Â
âJav, why on earth would you possibly be sorry?â You frowned, wondering what Javi had to apologize for.Â
âIâm sorry Iâm so drunk and now you have to drive me home.âÂ
âBaby, Iâm glad that you decided to get drunk. I wanted you to have a good time! Number one, youâre always driving me home whenever I wanna have fun and number two, itâs your birthday, and you deserve to let loose and have as much fun as you want to. Donât apologize, okay?â You smiled, gently grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze, instantly flooding his face with relief.Â
âOkay. Iâm sorry I talked to those ladies sitting by us earlier while you were going to the bathroom, too. I was just trying to be nice. I just wanted to tell them how excited I was to see Fleetwood Mac with you, and how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are, and that youâre the best wife ever.âÂ
âI know Jav, itâs okay. I didn't even think twice about it. They were very sweet, and said you had lots of nice things to say about me and the girls. It was very cute.â You smirked, lifting your interlocked hands to your lips to plant a kiss on his knuckles, giving it an even tighter squeeze of reassurance in the process.Â
At this point, Javi had practically melted into the passenger seat, limbs spread out as wide as he could to try and get comfortable, tilting his head towards you with a mischievous grin and sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes.Â
âYou know what we should do when we get home?â Javi asked, now biting down on his lip to try and subdue his smirk.Â
âI donât know Javi, what should we do?â You responded back mockingly.Â
âWe shoulddddddddd....â He paused, dancing in his seat in excitement.
âWe shoulddddddd, what, baby?â You sighed, laughing to yourself at his drunken goofiness.Â
âWe shouldddddd throw away your birth control and make another baby when we get home tonight.â Now Javi was full on beaming in an ear to ear grin, raising his eyebrows at you as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find any way to warm you up to his intoxicated acquisition.Â
âJavi! We talked about this!â You scolded, giving him a playful slap to his chest, doing nothing to wipe his stupidly wide smirk off his face. â4 kids is a lot of kids. At least one of us can have a spare hand with 3, even if weâre outnumbered. I think 3 is the magic number, babe.âÂ
âI knowwwww, but making babies with you is like, the best thing ever. If you asked me to list my favorite things to do, that would be number one, no question.â Javi protested, convinced that this argument alone would be enough of a selling point for you.Â
âBelieve me, youâre not wrong, Jav. Itâs a ten out of ten pastime, but even if I stopped taking my birth control tonight, I don't think it would happen, ya goof.âÂ
âCrazier things have happened. Maybe we'd just get really lucky. Our daughters are so cute. I know itâs unfair to say because theyâre our kids, but like, we make some cute fuckinâ babies, Hermosa. What if we made another super cute baby? Just like, one more?â At this point, Javi had broken out his signature pout and big baby cow eyes, looking at you like a stray puppy who had been kicked to the curb.Â
âAnother adorable baby means Iâm gonna have to build up my immunity to those sweet, sad, puppy dog eyes even more, and I honestly donât know if Iâm strong enough. I donât know how all 3 of the girls ended up with your big brown eyes, but I hope you know itâs killing me slowly because of how frickinâ cute they are.â You sighed in defeat, knowing that your willpower with 3 sets of Javiâs mini-meâs was already low enough, let alone adding a 4th pair to the mix.Â
âSoooooooooo itâs a maybe?âÂ
âOh my god, you are so bad, Javier Jesus PeĂąa.âÂ
âThatâs not a yes or a no, Osita.âÂ
â....Maybe. But donât get your hopes up, okay?âÂ
âSo weâre not not gonna make a baby tonight?âÂ
âJavi, I love you, baby, but with how much youâve had to drink, I donât think nature is going to give you enough grace to even let that possibility play out.â You snorted, gesturing down to his crotch, making him roll his eyes.Â
âOkay, that only happened one other time!â Javi sloppily pointed at you, crossing his arms over his chest.
âYeah, when you were absolutely hammered after Steveâs 40th birthday party and wouldnât let me put you to bed until you could prove to me that you did not, in fact, get whiskey dick, to which you fell asleep with your hands down your pants sitting in the guest room chair, unable to prove your point.âÂ
âThat was not my proudest moment, I will admit that. Most of the time, Iâm pretty good at sex, though.â Javi retorted, trying to bring himself back from your last point made.Â
âYes, Jav, youâre very good at sex.â You agreed, patting him on the leg and rubbing his thigh.Â
âSo goodâŚ. That we should make another baby tonight when we get home.âÂ
âOh my god.âÂ
âIâm just saying!âÂ
âJesus Christ, you goof. I think when we get home, someone needs to drink some water and get into bed. I love you very much, but thatâs about as far as weâre getting tonight.â You laughed, rustling the messy curls of his hair as he leaned his head to rest against your shoulder.Â
Javi sat silent for a moment, watching the headlights of the cars flash through his window, staring into the serene darkness of the clear night sky, the familiar warmth of his body pressed against yours in a comfortable calm. It was almost as if you could feel his eyelids beginning to droop, slowly closing while his sleepy state washed over him as he nestled against you. And while in that moment, the air between you hung quiet, you could hear the silent agreement that if given the choice, there was nowhere else youâd rather be than right here, right now, with each other.Â
âHey, Hermosa?âÂ
âYeah, Jav?âÂ
âI love you.âÂ
âI love you, too.âÂ
â....Enough that we should make another baby tonight?âÂ
âJavi!â
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too sweet (for me)
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader
eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?
a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! iâm usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild
read part two here.
the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasnât a fan, never had been.
he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.
something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he canât really tell. itâs too dark and heâs had too much to even really care.
âwatch it,â you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.
âwhat the fuck? you bumped into me,â he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. youâre the prettiest girl in this place, the only one heâs even looked at twice and now you hated him.
âwhatever asshole,â you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.
eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path youâd made, angering another ten people on his way. he didnât care, that couldnât be your only impression of him.
he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.
his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise heâd tailed you to the bar.
âsorry,â he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. âi wanted to apologise.. i was rude,â tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.
âyou were,â smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, âbut you can buy me a drink to make up for it.â
eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, âi think thatâs fair,â honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.
âvodka,â you add, making room for him to order.
he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.
you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didnât mind keeping you company, not one bit.
his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.
âyouâre not gonna even tell me your name?â he leans in, smirking as he does.
your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.
âeddie,â he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.
âare you a dancer, eddie?â the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.
ânot really,â he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.
âtoo bad,â your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.
he didnât like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldnât say no.
the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. youâre not even trying and yet heâs completely encapsulated by your body.
thereâs an attempt at dancing along with you, though heâs not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.
the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddieâs eyes latched onto you the entire time.
âyouâre really not a dancer, are yaâ?â you lean in to whisper.
âcanât help it, iâm distracted,â he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.
you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.
fuck it.
âdâyou wanna get out of here?â eddie asks, âi know a place.â
your brow quirks, âhm? how do i know you wonât kidnap me?â
he tilts his head, meeting your eye, âyouâll just have to trust me,â offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.
really, heâd go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.
you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.
your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.
eddie doesnât hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. âitâs not far from here.. we can walk?â
your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, âlead the way, eddie.â
he knows youâre trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.
-
the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. heâd do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.
eddieâs thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.
your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didnât pay someone else to decorate for him.
âyou live here?â
eddie didnât grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.
there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.
selling drugs wasnât exactly his chosen path but heâd sold a little weed in high school and found he wasnât awful at it and now here he was.
with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.
he doesnât entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.
âthe bedroomâs even better,â eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.
âgo âhead,â half-smile on your pretty lips.
your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasnât even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting youâll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.
expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.
heâs done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. youâre mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.
falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.
eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.
you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.
âi wanna see you,â he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.
you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.
he doesnât though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.
âfuck,â you gasp, breaking away from his lips, âdonât be mean,â swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.
âokay,â eddie laughs quietly, âiâm done,â sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.
he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. âworth it,â he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.
his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.
your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.
ânuhuh,â eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. âdonât do that.â
you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.
âwell if you hurried up..â you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.
eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, âalright sweetheart, i hear ya,â returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.
you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone heâs been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.
your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.
âthat better?â pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.
you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.
he canât hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.
âmhm,â he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.
eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.
âshit,â he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.
he wouldnât have fucked around so much if he knew this is what youâd feel like.
your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.
working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.
your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.
whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.
âyou.. you feel fuckinâ insane,â eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.
the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.
âahh fuck,â eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.
you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.
eddie canât stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.
your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.
coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.
instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks youâre crazy and yet, heâs sure he mightâve just fallen in love.
-
eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.
he doesnât want to startle you, in fact he doesnât really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, heâll be lucky to see you again.
maintaining relationships wasnât exactly a skill he possessed.
you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe youâd think he was a freak, maybe youâd regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.
âmorning,â you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.
âhi,â wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.
âyou talk in your sleep,â you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.
âoh really? what was i saying?â
you shrug, âsomething about a fire,â scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.
âa fire? thatâs weird, i was dreaming about you,â undecided whether it were too much too soon.
you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.
you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, âwhoâs that?â worry seeping through your tone.
âi donât know,â well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didnât want to deal with that right now.
they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, âiâll be two minutes,â frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.
as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.
âwoah,â gareth exclaims, eyes wide.
âwhat dâyou two want?â
âyou not gonna invite us in?â jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.
âno.â
âwhy?â gareth peers into the apartment, âwhoâve you got in there?â
âyour mom,â eddie quips, âwhy are you here?â
the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.
âwell-â they come closer, âweâve got that shipment.. for the thing,â brows wiggling, âcoupleâa weeks and itâll be in.â
this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. heâs not sure how well received thatâd be on your first morning together.
âshh,â he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, âyou couldnât have told me this later?â
they shake their heads in unison, âmurray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.â
eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, âalright.. alright, you can go now.â
they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.
the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.
âi used to be cute, right?â he knows exactly which one youâre looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.
you turn, still holding onto the frame, âis that your mom?â
âmhm,â he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, âshe..â clearing his throat, âshe died when i was younger,â tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.
âoh,â you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, âiâm sorry.â
he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun heâd thrown up, âdonât apologise,â placing the photo back in itâs rightful place, âshe was sick,â turning to you with his half-moon eyes.
he wishes he hadnât even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin youâd had plastered on it just this morning.
eddie sniffs, jumping to action, âget dressed,â he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, âweâre going out,â telling, rather than asking.
âwhere?â
he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.
âi donât have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-â
interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, âwear mine, thereâs a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,â eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.
you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, âuh.. i donât- what if people think..â
he turns, smile already peaking through, âif people think what? that we fucked? oh no,â riddled with sarcasm.
âyouâre not funny,â you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, âi didnât mean that i just..â trailing off into silence.
eddieâs eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.
âdonât look at me like that,â shying away though there was really no need. heâd seen it all already.
âi canât help it,â he remarks, standing wide-eyed.
your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.
âmaybe breakfast can wait,â growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.
-
eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you heâs coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.
he figures heâs close enough that he wonât bother, shifting into drive. youâd only seen each other yesterday but he couldnât get enough.
girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.
he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you canât possibly miss him.
itâs five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.
eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.
âwhatâre you doing here?â you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.
âi canât come pick you up from work?â
you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.
âwhyâre you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?â eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.
âshut up,â you scoff, rolling your eyes.
he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.
your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.
you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.
mission accomplished.
eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.
you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didnât enjoy that just as much as he did.
âwho was that? your boyfriend?â only half-joking.
thereâs another sigh, âi wish,â as you mess around with the dials on the dash.
eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldnât.
an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.
-
âyouâve never been to brunch?â you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.
âno,â eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, âwhy would i?â
âwhy wouldnât you?â smiling wide.
thereâs been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.
youâd dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that heâd never even bothered. heâd been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.
he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasnât any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.
âyou donât live,â you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
itâs ridiculous how soft you make him feel. heâd do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.
everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains youâd leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when youâd made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?
âsome of us have to work, sweetheart,â eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.
âi work,â you hit back, âonly difference is that what i do, isnât illegal,â whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.
he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.
âdâyou want me to pay for your fuckinâ brunch or not?â
âi can pay fâmyself,â you huff.
âbut i donât want you to.â
your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, âi donât want to either.â
-
eddieâs already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.
that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.
maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.
a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now heâs clutching a pistol, contemplating whether heâd survive if he just jumped out of the car.
murray wouldnât let him. heâd find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.
eddieâs eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.
for you.
-
a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.
he couldnât remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldnât have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.
eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.
âeds?â
choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.
it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.
heâs slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, âeddie?â terror in your voice.
âwhat happened?â
eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he canât explain it, thereâs no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.
your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.
any idiot could put two and two together.
heâs been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didnât want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasnât fair.
for a moment, he thinks youâre about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldnât blame you if you did.
instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, âget up,â you order, tugging at his arm.
he doesnât. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.
âi said get up,â barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.
eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.
you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.
âget under your nails,â you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.
he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.
your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, âoff,â nodding towards his jeans.
itâs a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddieâs not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he wouldâve done if you werenât here. he thinks he probably wouldâve handed himself straight into the cops.
you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. âweâll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,â eventually meeting his eyes again.
he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, heâd do it.
you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.
âget dressed.. iâll get you some water,â before flouncing out of the room.
eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.
heâs barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.
âeddie,â you begin, that same sad tone youâd had when he told you about his mom, âi donât..â stepping closer, âneed to know what happened- i donât really want to know either but.. you canât let it fuck you up,â looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.
he nods, âi know,â because he did. âiâm sorry for-,â he sighs, âfor getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.â
you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, âdonât.. donât start with that.â
his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
itâs a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks thatâs okay.
you understand anyway.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson one shot
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Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you
Hobie Brown x reader
word count: 969
find the mini series here
tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe
synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but thereâs something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.
a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasnât going to write another part to it but i caved đ
You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.
The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didnât feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. Heâs also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like itâs all one word.
Youâre peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. Itâs not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.
âLove! You in there?!â You hear him yell.
You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.
âHobie get your arse up,â you roll your very tired eyes.
He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.
Great, you think
He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like itâs his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.
âHobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!â You yell at him.
âWhyâd you do it?â He whispers.
âWhat,â you ask, still annoyed.
âYou stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didnât. Why,â he asked less of a question and more of a statement.
You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you donât quite know why you didnât go. You werenât doing anything special and it probably wouldâve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didnât know that, you just were.
âI⌠I donât know,â you admit.
âReally hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,â he looked away from you.
Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didnât mean anything by it.
âIâm really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,â you promise.
âNah, donât think iâll have the time,â He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.
âOh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?â You laugh.
âOf course not, thatâs for the first saturday of every month. Iâll be busy being Spiderman,â he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.
You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. Youâre suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is⌠no you canât even say it. The man youâve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That canât be right, heâs having a laugh. Thatâs gotta be it.
âI donât believe in comedy,â you remember him saying.
Fuck. Heâs not joking, is he?
âWhat?â you manage to get out.
âIâll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Donât know if you noticed but heâs- i mean Iâm kinda all over your room,â he lets out a drunk giggle.
He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.
âSee?â
You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.
Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You just canât believe the man youâve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.
Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.
âI donât believe in the labels though. Itâs stupid,â He says in the most Hobie way possible.
âYouâre a superhero,â you say, still a little shocked.
âNo. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,â He says. God even drunk heâs still a smart ass.
âSo you still wanna go out?â He asks.
âWhat? I just found out youâre fucking Spiderman and thatâs what youâre asking me? If I want to go out with you?â You respond.
âI mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,â he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.
Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.
âWell- yeah I guess. We can go out,â you say slowly.
âCool,â he nods.
He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.
âI knew you wanted to snog me from the start,â he laughs.
Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.
#spiderverse x reader#spiderman x reader smut#spiderman atsv#spiderman x you#spiderman x reader#hobie my beloved#hobie x reader#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown x you#spiderpunk x y/n#spiderpunk x reader#spider punk#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv x reader#marvel x reader#spiderman#spiderman x y/n
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LIFE | jhs
pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)
genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff
word count: 8.6k
summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door.Â
pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join
warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.
note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.
Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often.Â
Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina⌠and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your gutsâa friend that could not stand you.Â
A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoonâs before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through.Â
You werenât stupid. You knew what his deal wasâitâs only that you couldnât do anything about it. You were Namjoonâs for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your sideâyou prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality.Â
But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run.Â
Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoonâs intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty.Â
But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with himâand you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok.Â
He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure youâre seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay.Â
It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite intoâand it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff.Â
Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship.Â
Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it.Â
You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon isâhe knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasnât willing to go the extra mile.Â
He didnât consider it. Didnât mention it.Â
He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together.Â
And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested.Â
It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion.Â
An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours.Â
His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseokâs first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water.Â
You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you.Â
And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last.Â
âI come home to find you single,â he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. âHeâs drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkookâs lap and youâre here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.âÂ
Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are goneâthose you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of.Â
You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. âJungkook must be happy about that.âÂ
Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you.Â
Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. Youâd grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like heâs doing now. Itâs the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common.Â
All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you.Â
And it no longer shall.Â
If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life.Â
âIf you came here to talk about him, then Iâm not interested,â you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. âIf you came here for me, then the door is open.âÂ
And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps.Â
You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch.Â
So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself.Â
But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up.Â
Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service.Â
The first kind thing heâs ever done for you.Â
He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when youâre bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take.Â
You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseokâs eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just wonât leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you canât take it anymore.Â
You canât be the only one whoâs brave this evening.Â
You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were.Â
And the process soaks your panties.Â
So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you canât stand it anymore.Â
âYou should start talking before I go to bed,â you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches.Â
He showed you little of it. You know heâs capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age.Â
And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you.Â
Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea.Â
Youâre a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste.Â
âDid he break your heart?â he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxingâas if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him.Â
It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and youâd much rather sit on them than talk about your ex.Â
âDid you not hear what I said?â you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseokâs façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you.Â
He leans back, slouching in the chair. âAnswer the question.âÂ
The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And youâre too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings youâve shamefully forgotten about.Â
The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You shouldâve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at homeâin and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though youâre a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body.Â
And you might as well give him what he asks of you.Â
Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you donât blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them.Â
âHe didnât break my heart, I broke his,â you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours.Â
He didnât expect that.Â
Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly.Â
Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. âIt was about time you did.âÂ
The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you donât. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldnât be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseokâs eyes donât flick to it. No, he canât miss this. He canât miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.
If it drags, itâs not meant for you. If itâs fast, it couldnât wait to meet you.Â
And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction youâre rubbingâthe miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because youâre baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable.Â
He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet.Â
Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that heâs just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and youâre hot, hot all over.Â
The thumping worsensâand you need him, all of him, to make it better.Â
Perceiving that heâs succeeded in his strategy by the way you just wonât stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. Itâs a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him.Â
And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now.Â
âIt was about time you and I talked alone, donât you think?â you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distanceâall that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.
Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back.Â
The man likes feet.
You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that youâre taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let itâyou let it consume you.Â
And you let his following question consume you just as much.Â
âWere you in love with him?âÂ
Itâs a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months youâve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out.Â
No need for long nights of overthinking.Â
No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.
âNo, I was used to himâthatâs different,â you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe itâs the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. Thereâs never a still timeâand you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. âWhatâs it to you?âÂ
Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst.Â
âWhatâs it to me?âÂ
There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers.Â
Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled thereâand you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him.Â
âYouâre genuinely asking me this question?â he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face.Â
A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors hisâhasty, deep and strainedâand you canât take it anymore.Â
How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin?Â
You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation.Â
âYes, Hoseok. Whatâs it to you?âÂ
He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it.Â
âI had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,â he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. âHe didnât deserve you. Youâre not a pretty toy. Youâre a person.âÂ
He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. âDonât fucking walk away from me.âÂ
He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about.Â
And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says thereâs no going back.Â
âI talked to you. We fought, donât you remember?âÂ
He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. âWhat do you think wouldâve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?âÂ
Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didnât move its lifeless limbs right by his will.Â
âIâve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you⌠I couldnât. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didnât let you let it out. And I canât forgive him for that.âÂ
What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead?Â
A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside youâyou canât face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment.Â
How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick.Â
âDonât forgive him,â you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer.Â
âDo you want me?â he asksâa foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. âDo you want me to let out that life in you?âÂ
âYes,â you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. Itâs hisâit always belonged to him. âTake me. Here.âÂ
He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. âYouâre so feisty.â Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. âBut no.âÂ
The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing throughâhand in hand with sobriety.Â
But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release.Â
A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. âDonât give it to me that easily.âÂ
Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. âJebal, Hobi.âÂ
Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forwardâever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he canât speak.Â
He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. âDonât beg me,â he croaks out, so terribly strung out. âIâm-Iâmââ
You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesnât need to speakâyouâre fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you canât help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long.Â
âI want you to touch me,â you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and itâs him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. âI want you to feel that life in me and know itâs yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.âÂ
He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but theyâre not. Theyâre soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face youâve never seen before, that feels too, too significantâand youâre not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt.Â
Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at.Â
The sea that has remotely stilledâbut youâre still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water.Â
And you do.Â
He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out.Â
âDid you cry for him?âÂ
Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and youâve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. Itâs over, itâs over.
âStop fuckingââ
Hoseok doesnât relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. âDid you cry for him?âÂ
Your heart wept, but your eyes didnât. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. âNo.âÂ
He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates youâand light opens in your sensitive bosom. âGood girl.âÂ
And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legsâas well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his.Â
The life in you throbs.Â
His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until heâs breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he���s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowersâand you feel like it, being looked at like that.Â
âI knew you were smart,â he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. âThat life in you will always win. No matter what.âÂ
You believe himâin fact, thereâs nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again.Â
âTouch it, please.âÂ
Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged.Â
He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attentionâand at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain.Â
Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you canât take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing.Â
And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him.Â
Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he didâyour stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool.Â
âYou feel it, donât you?â he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. âRight here. Life. Beautiful life.â He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. âItâs time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Letâs take these off.âÂ
He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumbâand youâre so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants.Â
Youâre bare and heâs still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with.Â
Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally.Â
âHe never made you wet like this, did he?â he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. âYou donât even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.âÂ
You donât even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume.Â
Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldnât handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesnât let you see his muscular bodyâhe plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit.Â
And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You canât speak, you canât breatheâyou can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body.Â
And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you canât take it.Â
You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away.Â
He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. âI wasnât finished.âÂ
Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. âHoseokieââ
He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out.Â
âThe fact you canât take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didnât do his job well,â he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him.Â
There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongueâfor his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of youâit heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once.Â
âThatâs right,â you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. âGo slow on me.â
He croons, squeezing his eyes. âMy little girl.âÂ
He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in youâyour heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity.Â
He kisses his way down to your breasts. âIâll go slow on you,â he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighsâup to your knees. âDo you want to stop here?âÂ
You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off.Â
And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth.Â
Your poor heart skips a beat.Â
âDo you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?âÂ
He kisses the ball of your foot, doesnât break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like thatâand you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you.Â
Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over.Â
âIf you keep doing that, Iâm gonna come.âÂ
You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils.Â
âThatâs so hot.âÂ
He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. âItâs because you have my heart.âÂ
Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his.Â
And you donât think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too.Â
And youâre not afraid to reciprocate his feelingsâtheyâre as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle.Â
âYou have me,â you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. âYou have my life. Itâs more of a treasure than my heart.âÂ
He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didnât want you to get hurt by Namjoon.Â
You just didnât know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty.Â
Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. âI want both.âÂ
âThen, have it.â
And he kisses your forehead. âThank you. Iâll take care of it.âÂ
You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means itâand so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handleâ
âLay back down.âÂ
You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. âYes, Sergeant.âÂ
Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. âDonât call me that when I need to be gentle with you,â he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. âRight now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I canât do that. Not when youâre not used to me yet.âÂ
Yes, the promise of the seaâyou convulse from head to toe, pining after it.Â
âI want that so bad.âÂ
He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. âAnd Iâll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.âÂ
You comply, but you take him with youâgrabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him.Â
âI didnât bring any condoms.âÂ
You huff out a soft noise. âGood. I want you to come all over me.âÂ
Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing.Â
âIâll give you a big load.âÂ
You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. âYes, please.âÂ
Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face.Â
âGood girl. Such good manners.âÂ
And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime.Â
âI can feel you stretching around me, fuck. Youâre so warm, so tight for me,â he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from thatâand the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. âStay with me, baby, you can take this. Iâm gonna make you feel so good and youâre gonna come on this cock.âÂ
Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that youâre ready for him.
âIâm gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything youâre feeling as I fuck you,â he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you canât help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity.Â
He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.
âFuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, donât you?â he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin.Â
âI think I was born already knowing them,â you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for itâa singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.
And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with itâall while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you.Â
âYou canât handle my tongue and I canât handle it when you flirt with me,â he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. âGod, I wanna destroy you so bad.âÂ
Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. âIâm yours to destroy.âÂ
He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish.Â
âSay that again.âÂ
Your breath hitches. âIâm yours to destroy.âÂ
Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight heâs gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.
âFuck, Hobi, you feel so good,â you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one.Â
âWhose are you?â he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervixâand you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out.Â
But only one thing is clear.Â
âIâm yours.âÂ
And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and youâre on the cusp.Â
Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg.Â
âPlease, please, baby. Come for me. Iâm so fucking close for you. Please, Iâm gonna come all over you.âÂ
And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitateâyour back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines.Â
Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him.Â
Blood-hot.Â
And you feel as though you deserved every drop.Â
Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see.Â
Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though heâs still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning.Â
They cease to exist.Â
Youâre not his best friendâs ex. Youâre not anyoneâs exâ
âLook at how little you are,â Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. âSo little under me and all mine, arenât you?âÂ
His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him.Â
But Hoseok doesnât stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head.Â
âIâll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And Iâll be standing beside you and Iâll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.âÂ
He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again.Â
Again and again.Â
Again in the shower. Again in your bed when youâre riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb.Â
And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world.Â
Hoseok is that life.Â
And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever.Â
đ ๨ŕ§Â LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.
Š 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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#hobi smut#hobi x reader#hobi x yn#hobi x oc#hobi x you#btscreatorscorner#bts smut#bts imagine#hobi imagine#hobi scenarios#hobi fluff#hobi angst#kpop smut#jhs x reader#jhs#jhs x you#hobi#hobi fic#jung hoseok#hobi bts#jhope x reader#jhope fic#jhope x you#jhope smut#hoseok fic#hoseok smut#hoseok fluff#bts hoseok#hoseok fanfic#hoseok
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City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 19
(I know I'm tech on a break this week, but I could use the serotonin.) masterpost
âHe understands that I am coming over?â Damian asked as he inspected his pencil case to make sure he had everything he needed. Father would be picking him up from art class to fetch lunch.
âYep, Danny knows weâre bringing lunch over,â Grayson answered. His thumb swiped idly across his phone.
Damian took a slow breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He loved Grayson, but it did not mean that the other was not an idiot sometimes. Sometimes family meant loving someone even though they were an idiot, Damian reminded himself.
In an attempt to start again, Damian stayed silent until he was sure that he had all of his supplies in his messenger bag. âI meant, does Danny understand that it is specifically me bringing the food? Does Danny understand who I am?â
âOh, Dami baby, yeah,â Grayson said, voice softening in a way that made Damian bristle. At least Grayson finally set his phone down. âJay talked to him about it and is still there at the apartment with Danny now. Iâll over over to give Jason a break and be there when you and Bruce come. Do you want me to double check with Danny before you arrive?â
Damian frowned as he adjusted the strap on his bag.
âYes,â Damian answered after a pause and when he could meet Graysonâs eyes confidently. âI believe that the redundancy would not go amiss.â
âOkay, yeah, Iâll be sure to double check before you and Bruce get there.â
âAcceptable,â Damian said and let to find Pennyworth for his ride to class.
Doing art calmed him. That knowledge had been a surprise at first. While Damian had, of course, learned about art as part of his cultural and historical training, actually being able to engage in art was was something entirely knew. Something that was available to Damian only because of his Fatherâs allowance.
No, that was not quite right. Father didnât allow Damian to do art, Father simply wanted them to be happy and art is what made Damian⌠perhaps not happy, but at least more at peace.
Peace had been such a rare thing in Damianâs life.
He still didnât quite know what to do with it.
Annoyingly, class that day didnât quite manage to tamper the churning in Damianâs gut. He could (and would) ignore the feeling, of course, but that did not mean it wasnât there.
Or that it didnât grow as Damian was waiting for Father to pick him up for class.
âYou have put in the order we discussed?â Damian asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
âYes, it should be ready shortly after we get there,â Father answered. âYou were out quickly today.â
âTch,â Damian looked away from his fatherâs searching gaze and focused on the world outside the window. He hated to have tells, but in a family of detectives it was impossible not to. âIf it unlikely to be ready, perhaps we should stop by the Turkish bakery that is near. Surely there are items there that are not too sweet for his diet.â
âThatâs a nice idea,â Father agreed with a thoughtful hum. âHe may have never had them before so we can get a little selection of what you think he needs to try.â
Damian worked not to physically freeze. That felt suddenly like a great deal of responsibility. Which was silly, it was simply food.
âThat is a sound idea,â Damian said instead of trying to face his sudden worry.
It was even more overwhelming in the face of all the options. Damian certainly spent far too long making a selection, but Father doesnât rush him, so Damian tries to allow himself the time. The food is easily acquired after. Far too quickly that they were in front of the safehouse door. Father rested one hand on the back of Damianâs back, a bracing presence, before he knocked.
âComing!â Grayson called needlessly through the door a few moments before he it swung open. âHey guys, come in. Itâs all good.â
Damian resisted the urge to nod to that, took a breath, and crossed the threshold.
Danny sat on the couch. The fabled day saving blue bear was clutched in the boyâs lap; clutched too tightly. Damian shot Grayson an accusatory look. Clearly it wasnât âall goodâ.
Grayson rolled his eyes and took the box of sweets from Damian to take to the kitchen with Father.
Damian was left alone with Danny.
At least it gave Damian time to properly study the other boy. Not blood son. Clone. Better and worse at onceâ a copy of Father. It was clear how much Danny looked like Bruce, a redundant thought now that they knew Danny was a clone, but it crossed Damianâs mind all the same. It was odd to see the still slightly sunken cheeks and too prominent collar bones on someone that looked so much like Father, so much more like Father than Damian did.
Idly, Damian wondered if Danny would ever reach Fatherâs stature, what with his past. Damian himself had started to grown into wild shoulders and broad chest that would someday be his body over the last year, but Danny had not.
Danny, at least a year older, was still far too slight.
But older.
The oldest blood.
Would he try to take Damianâs place now? It would only be just, with how poorly Damian had behaved when he first arrived, especially to Drake. And Damianâs brash attacks, Danny would have the right to his. He was oldestâŚ
âAre⌠are you alright?â
Damianâs head snapped up at Dannyâs words. When had he lost his focus?
âI do not know,â Damian said, too honest words tumbling across his tongue without his permission.
He didnât know.
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THE OTHER GUY PT.4 | FC43
part one | part two | part three |
an: only a couple more to go out! lmk if there is anything in particular you'd like to see and if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)
ynpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 34,244 others
city boy summer, can't keep the hoes away
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logansargeant: you are not a city boy
ynpiastri: or am i?
oscarpiastri: i, for the record am happily taken and will not engage in this tomfoolery
ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer i will pay you double what he's paying you to date him if you break up with him
userone: girl we all know franco is there too.
When youâd woken up this morning, the last thing youâd expected was a pounding at your door. It couldnât have been housekeeping because you had it scheduled for 3 p.m., and it couldnât have been a crazy fan because you made sure never to post near your door, ever. So when you opened it and were attacked by a flurry of blonde hair, your heart dropped. As per usual, whenever you saw the blonde mess, you knew your sheepish brother wasnât far behind.
It was a welcome surprise, though. While you were enjoying the peace of the resort, it had been a while since youâd seen Logan or Oscar.
After catching up over breakfast and hearing their latest stories from home, you all had agreed to spend the day at the beach. The morning had been light and easy, filled with laughter and jokes, mocking how Oscar couldnât tan and how Logan always managed to find an American flag, no matter what country he was in.
âYouâve been quieter than usual,â Logan said, nudging you with his elbow. He grinned, a knowing look in his eyes as he adjusted his sunglasses. âWhatâs on your mind?â
You shake your head, trying to brush it off. âNothing, just thinking.â
Oscar, who was stretched out beside you with his arms behind his head, let out a chuckle. âThinking about what?â Tilting his head to the side, he gave you a teasing glance. âYouâve been acting weird since you got here last week.â
There was no escaping it now. Of course it was going to be noticeable that youâd been quieter, but that was because the thoughts swirling around in your head weren't exactly ones you were ready to share. Still, you couldnât ignore the topic forever.
âI donât know,â you started, the words slow and careful. âI guess⌠Iâve stopped looking at him with so much hatred.â The words were out before you could even clarify who he was.
It felt strange admitting it out loud. Youâd spent so long disliking himâpublicly, even. But now? After spending more time here, after getting to know him in ways you hadnât expected⌠things had changed.
Oscar raised an eyebrow. âWait. Are we talking about who I think weâre talking about?â He leaned in, clearly intrigued.
Glancing out at the ocean, you avoided eye contact with either man. âYeah.â
Logan stayed quiet for a moment, and you almost regretted your words. Staying quiet for a beat longer, he sighed. âYou know, he never did anything wrong.â
Turning around to face him, surprised, you lifted your sunglasses to look at him properly.
âHe fought his way into the sport the same way I did,â Logan continued, his tone firm but not harsh. âYou canât hate him for something he canât control.â
You felt your chest tighten. He was right. Deep down, youâd always known that. Franco didnât choose to replace Loganâit wasnât personal. He was just doing what any of them would do. Fighting for a place in a sport where nothing is guaranteed.
âI know,â you admitted softly. âItâs just⌠hard. I wanted to blame someone.â
Oscar sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. âWe get it. But honestly, youâve got to let it go. Holding on to that angerâitâs not going to do you any good.â
For a second, you wanted to laugh because you couldnât recall the last time in your life Oscar and Logan had agreed on something.
Just as you were about to say something else, you noticed movement in the distance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see himâ Franco âwalking along the shore. His head turned in your direction, and when his eyes met yours, he lifted his hand in a casual wave.
At first you thought he may be waving to Oscar, but when a shy smile graced his lips your heart skipped a beat. He wasnât not doing it for show, not trying to get under your skin. It was just a wave. Simple, friendly.
Before you could think too much about it, you waved back. And then, almost without realising it, a small smile tugs at your lips.
Both Oscar and Logan caught the interaction and raised an eyebrow, though Oscar didnât say a word. Logan nudged you again, his voice teasing. âWell, look at that.â
You rolled your eyes at him but canât help feeling a little lighter. Maybe you really were wrong about him. Maybe thereâs more to him than the guy who replaced Logan.
You were still thinking about that smile when Logan gave you a sly nudge. âSo⌠are you going to talk to him?â
Your head whipped around to his eyes wide. âWhat? No! Absolutely not.â
Oscar laughed, clearly enjoying your sudden panic. âWhy not? Youâve already smiled at him, waved and everything. Just go over there and talk to the guy. Itâs not like heâs some stranger.â
You shook your head, feeling your face heat up. âItâs not that easy! I canât just walk up to him like itâs nothing.â
âOh, come on,â Logan said, rolling his eyes playfully. âYouâve been trash-talking him for months, and now youâre scared to ask him out for a drink? Seriously?â
Opening your mouth to protest, your face flushed as no words came out. You were flustered, and they both knew it.
Oscar sat up, shrugging nonchalantly. âWhatâs the worst that could happen? He says no? So what. But I donât think he will.â
You glanced back towards where Franco was standing, now leaning against the railing, gazing out at the ocean. He looked relaxed, completely unaware of the internal chaos you were going through just a few feet away.
Your heart was pounding, and you felt a nervous knot in your stomach. âI canât just⌠I mean, what would I even say?â
Logan gave you an encouraging smile. âJust be yourself. Ask him if he wants to grab a drink tonight. Youâve already softened up to him, right? This is your chance.â
You hesitated, glancing between Oscar and Logan, who both gave you looks that said go on, youâve got this.
Finally, you exhale, standing up and wiping the sand off your legs. âFine. Iâll do it. But if this goes horribly wrong, itâs your fault.â
Oscar grinned at you. âWeâll take full responsibility. Now go.â
With your heart still racing, you took a deep breath and started walking across the sand toward him. Each step feeling heavier than the last, your mind racing with all the things you could sayâor worse, all the ways this could go wrong. But you were already halfway there, and there was no turning back now.
When you were just a few feet away, he noticed you approaching and turned around, his expression shifting from casual surprise to something more⌠interested. You could see it in his eyes, the way they lit up as you stopped in front of him.
âHey,â you managed to say, hoping you didnât sound as nervous as you felt.
âHola,â he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. âI wasnât expecting you to come over.â
You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. Why did this feel so much harder than anything else youâd ever done? âYeah, well⌠Oscar and Logan kind of persuaded me. They said I should talk to you.â
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. âOh? What about?â
Your mind went blank for a second, âI was, uh⌠wondering if youâd want to grab a drink with me tonight.â
The words came out in a rush, and you immediately felt your cheeks flush, but you managed to hold his gaze. You couldnât believe you just said that. Your heart was thumping so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
Franco didnât answer right away, but the smile on his face grew wider. âYouâre asking me out?â
You nodded, trying to keep your cool. âYeah. If youâre free, I mean. Itâs fine if youâre not, I understand.â
His eyes softened, and for a moment, the cocky driver youâd seen in interviews was gone. In its place was just a guyâsurprised, maybe even flattered.
âIâd love to,â he said, his voice steady. âHow about I pick you up around 8?â
Blinking, you took a minute to comprehend what heâd just said, relief and excitement flooding you all at once. âReally? Yeah, that works.â
âGreat.â His smile was warm, and suddenly, the tension you were feeling melted away. âIâll see you tonight, then.â
You nodded, still trying to process that youâd actually gone through with itâand that he had said yes.
âSee you tonight,â you echo, then turn to walk back to Oscar and Logan before remembering he didnât have your room number. âUh, room 438.â
Franco nodded in your direction, âRoom 438.â
ynpiastri
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 31,487 others
fit check, kind of nervous guys (đ¸ @logansargeant)
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userone: FRANCO IN THE LIKES đ¤
usertwo: oh my god i want her
oscarpiastri: scared for what? i thought you were city boy summering rn
ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer PLEASE BREAK UP WITH THIS NERD
userthree: just seen franco in the hall of the same resort, looks quite dapper if you ask me
logansargeant: this isn't very city boy summer of you
ynpiastri: eat dirt đđ
userfour: franyn?
the end.
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#f1#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#logan sargeant#williams#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto x yn#oscar piastri#oscar piastri sister#williams f1#williams racing#williams formula 1#logan sargeant angst#logan sargeant smau#f1 social media au#franco colapinto smau
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