#i'm just staring at my phone and feeling 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misahyochaeng · 29 days ago

Note

Can we get a momo car smut? it would suit her scene in the Strategy mv 😮‍💨

Let Me Into Your Heart. 🎄

tw - fluff, angst, smut, car sex, idol x idol!reader, tenth member reader, friends to (?), cunnilingus, bi-curious!reader, implied cheating/breakup, fingering, first time with a girl, praise kink.

note: a lil christmas gift for yall!!! enjoy

—

“Should we get more popcorn?” Chaeyoung asked as she shook around the unpopped kernels in the ceramic bowl they had all been using. All ten eyes fixated on the TV screen that was displaying the movie “Home Alone.” It had become a group tradition to watch it every christmas-eve.

“Chaeyoung, this is our fifth bag, we’re gonna run out of popcorn before this movie is even finished.” Jihyo scolded lightly as she sat on Sana’s lap, the Japanese girl toying and twirling with some locs of Jihyo’s hair. “Well it’s not my fault some people here aren’t saving some popcorn for the rest of us!” Chaeyoung argued as she eyed you and Momo, a pout of her face as she sulked with furrowed brows. Momo stuck her tongue out and mocked the girl while you stuck your middle finger out and pouted, some banter immersing you all as the movie continued on.

Your phone buzzed.

Jisung: “Y/N, can we talk?.”

The playful banter continued for a few moments before your phone buzzed again, louder this time, cutting through the sound of the movie. You glanced down at the screen, your heart sinking slightly at the message:

Jisung: “Please, it’s serious.”

For the past few days, he'd been distant—barely answering texts, no late-night calls after hard weeks of recording, no cute emojis or "I miss you" messages. Nothing. The sudden flood of unease gnawed at your popcorn filled stomach. You weren’t sure if it was the holiday season or the amount of unaligned schedules, but the weight of his absence had started to feel heavier than usual.

Momo, sitting beside you, noticed the subtle shift in your mood. She glanced at your phone and then back at you, her expression softening. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern, her hand caressing yours with her thumb.

You froze for a moment, suddenly aware of how tense your shoulders had become. You didn’t want to dive into it now—not with everyone here, not on Christmas Eve. You forced a smile, but it felt brittle, like it might break at any moment. "Yeah... I'm fine. I’m just gonna step outside for a bit. I'll be right back."

Momo looked at you for a second longer, her brow furrowed, but she didn’t press. She knew better than to push too hard when you weren’t ready to talk. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything," she said softly, her eyes staying on you for a moment before you stood up and headed for the door.

You made your way down the hallway, the muffled sound of laughter from the living room fading behind you. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, the sudden silence almost suffocating. You unlocked your phone again, reading Jisung’s message over and over:

Jisung: “Call me. I need to tell you now.”

A chill ran through you, though not from the shivering cold. Serious? What did that even mean? You stared at the screen, fingers frozen in place. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer, but you couldn’t ignore it. You needed to hear it from him, even though you already had a sinking feeling in your gut.

Taking a shaky breath, you tapped his name, a little white heart next to it. The phone rang twice, then he picked up. His voice was different—distant, quieter than usual.

"Hey," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it cracked slightly. "Hey," Jisung replied, but there was something in his tone—hesitation? Nervousness? You couldn’t tell.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the dread creeping into your chest. "What’s going on? Is everything alright?" There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice even more strained now. "I... I think we need to talk."

The words hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. We need to talk—you knew what that meant. You felt the air go still, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “About what?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

He let out a long breath, like he was trying to find the right words. “I don’t think we’re... I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore,” he said, his voice barely audible now. “I think it’s time we... end things.”

You couldn’t breathe for a second. The words stung in a way you hadn’t expected. You felt your chest tighten, the cold air no longer offering any relief. “Jisung, no...” you managed to whisper, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You had expected this to come, but hearing it... it still hurt.

There was silence on the other end for a long moment, and then he sighed. "I’m sorry. I just... I think it’s better this way." The words felt like a slap in the face, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet. It was Christmas Eve. You had been hoping, maybe even pretending, that things could be fixed, that it was just a rough patch. But this... this was the final word.

You tried to steady your breath, but it felt impossible. Please, you thought. Just don’t let it end like this.

"Jisung, please... don’t do this," you whispered, your voice cracking despite your best effort to keep it steady. "We can fix this. I know we can. Just... talk to me. Please." There was a long silence on the other end, and you could almost feel the distance growing between you, stretching wider and wider. His voice finally broke through, distant and emotionless. "I’ve already talked to my company," he said, each word heavier than the last. "They’re going to issue a statement tomorrow. It’s already been decided."

A statement. Your chest tightened. Your throat felt like it was closing. "A statement?" you echoed, almost laughing at how absurd it sounded, but the bitter edge to your voice made it clear you weren’t finding any humor in it. "You’re not just ending things, Jisung. You’re... you’re making it official with a statement?"

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, and there was a finality to it. Something in his tone said this wasn’t a conversation anymore—it was a conclusion. A chapter closing. “This... it’s for the best.” The words stabbed at you like a thousand needles. For the best? How could this be for the best?

“No,” you whispered, your heart pounding. “No, Jisung. I don’t want this. I can’t just... let you go. Not like this. You can’t make a decision like that without even trying—please.” You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to pull yourself together, but you were barely holding on. “We can talk about it. We can fix this. Please.”

“I’ve thought about it, and I know this is what’s best for both of us,” he replied, but his words felt like they were slipping away from you, becoming less real with every breath. There was no room for anything else, no space for the love you’d shared. Just cold, emotionless distance. A lump formed in your throat as you pressed your palm to your forehead, trying to stop the tears from coming. "But I love you," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I don’t want to let you go. Please don’t do this. I can’t—"

He sighed. It was long and exhausted, like he was done explaining, done trying to make you understand. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft but final, like he was already saying goodbye. “I think it’s better this way. I really do.”

"No," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper, your entire body trembling. *Please, don’t hang up. Please, don’t leave me with just this.* "Please... please just listen to me, Jisung. We can work through it. We can—"

But before you could finish, there was a sharp click.

The call ended.

You stared at your phone, your hand shaking, the empty screen glaring back at you as if mocking your attempts to hold it together. The cold air outside suddenly felt suffocating, and you clutched the phone in your hand, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest.

He was gone. Just like that.

A familiar voice cut through the cold silence.

“Y/N, the girls told me to bring you a jacket, Jihyo didn’t want you catching a co—”

Momo stopped mid-sentence when she saw you, her words faltering as she took in the sight of you standing there. Your face was pale, eyes swollen and red, and your nose was bright from the cold, but it was clear—it wasn’t the cold that had made you look this way.

Her breath caught in her chest. She could see it in your eyes—something had shattered, and it wasn’t just the chill of the night.

You didn’t speak, just stood there, looking like you were trying to hold yourself together, but barely. Momo’s heart twisted as she saw how small you seemed, how lost you were.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, instinctively, Momo stepped forward, her voice soft but full of concern. “Y/N…”

You didn’t respond. You just looked at her, your lips trembling, and that was all it took for Momo to close the distance between you. She didn't ask any more questions, not yet—she just shrugged the jacket off her shoulders and wrapped it around you, the thick wool lining offering warmth against your skin. The smell of her perfume, the faintest trace of something sweet and familiar, clung to the jacket, mixing with the cold air around you.

She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her hands warm against your trembling body. For a few seconds, she just held you, letting the silence settle between you. She could feel the tension in your body—the way you were trying to hold it all in, like you were waiting for something to change.

Momo didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were stuck in her throat, but one thing she did know: you needed her, and that was enough for now.

Her thumb brushed softly across your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. She took a deep breath, her voice breaking the silence, but barely above a whisper. “What happened?” Her words were careful, like she didn’t want to push you too hard. "Y/N, please talk to me."

You closed your eyes, the pain in your chest threatening to crush you with each breath you took. You shook your head as if to shake off the reality of it. “He… he ended it. Just like that.”

Her arms tightened around you, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. She just let you keep talking, keep processing.

“He… said it was for the best. That it’s over. That we’re over.” You choked on the last words, your throat so tight you could barely breathe. “He’s already talking to his company, Momo. They’re going to release a statement tomorrow…” You trailed off, your voice barely audible, and your hands gripped the edges of the jacket she’d wrapped around you as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality.

Momo’s chest ached as she heard your words, her heart breaking for you. She knew you and Jisung had been going through something, but this? This felt so final. Her fingers brushed against your hair gently, tucking a strand behind your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You just shook your head, unable to say anything more. The weight of everything was too much, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself lean into her warmth. Momo held you like she’d never let you go, like she could protect you from all of this pain, even though she knew she couldn’t. But she would be here. She would always be here.

Momo gently pulled away, but kept her hands on your arms, her voice soft but insistent. “Okay, listen to me. We’re gonna get through this,” she said, her tone more confident now, though there was still a quiver of concern underneath. “I’m gonna go talk to the girls. We’ll come up with something. I’ll take you out for a little drive, get some air. You deserve that right now, okay?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. You just nodded, still trying to breathe through the ache in your chest. Momo squeezed your shoulders before rushing back inside to join the others.

Momo burst back into the living room, still feeling the weight of the moment. The girls glanced up at her, noticing her flushed cheeks and the wild, panicked look in her eyes. Before anyone could say anything, Momo blurted out, “It’s over. She... he ended it. It’s over.”

The words hit the room like a bomb, and the girls froze. For a second, no one moved. Then, a beat later, Nayeon looked up from her phone, her eyes wide. “Wait, wait—what?” She blinked rapidly, trying to process. “Momo, have you seen a ghost? What’s happening?” Momo groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “I’m serious, Nayeon. It’s over. Y/N’s heartbroken, and I... I don’t know what to do. She’s falling apart, and I just—” She shook her head, cutting herself off. “I need to fix this.”

Jihyo looked up from her seat with a knowing smile, trying to calm Momo down. “We’re not saying you have to fix everything, Momo. But you can’t do it alone.”

“Right,” Sana added, her voice light with a teasing tone. “You need help. You’ve been practically obsessed with Y/N for months. It's okay, we see it.” Momo’s face turned beet red, her hands flailing in the air as she tried to brush off their comments. “I... I’m just trying to help her. This is about her, not me!” She was still panicking, but it was clear from her flushed face and darting eyes that they were right. She liked you. She always had.

Chaeyoung gave her a knowing look, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Momo… you do know this is just a breakup, right?”

Momo froze. “What do you mean? Of course it’s just a breakup—what else could it be?!” she said, waving her arms dramatically. Sana, eyes twinkling, smirked. “Momo, we’ve been watching you two for months now. The way you look at her? You think we didn’t notice? Please.”

“Yeah, you’ve practically been ready to confess,” Jihyo added, crossing her arms. “Except you keep getting interrupted by work or... Y/N’s boyfriends or whatever.” Momo’s face went bright red. “What? No! I—I’m just—what?!" Her hands flailed in the air even harder now, like she was trying to swat the conversation away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m just trying to make her feel better, okay? She’s my best friend. That’s all.”

Chaeyoung leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Sure. Best friend. And you want to make her feel better because...?”

Sana and Jihyo both shot Momo a knowing look, and Momo groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Okay, fine! Fine, I like her. But that doesn’t matter right now! She’s hurting, and I need to figure out how to help her.”

“Look,” Jihyo said, leaning forward with a smirk. “It’s okay. We’ve all been in your shoes at some point.” She paused dramatically, glancing at the others. “Well, not everyone.” She shot a look at Sana, who rolled her eyes.

But now wasn’t the time for that. “I’m taking her out for a drive. She needs to clear her head,” Momo said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m gonna be there for her. I just... I need to get her to feel better, okay?”

Chaeyoung leaned back on the couch, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now we’re trying to get her to feel better. What happened to the Momo who was all, ‘We’re just friends’? Huh? You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Momo’s face went even redder, but before she could respond, Jihyo stepped in, holding up a bar of chocolate with a smirk. “Here, Momo,” she said, tossing it to her. “You’re gonna need this. Chocolate fixes everything.”

Momo caught the chocolate, but she barely acknowledged it, her mind still racing; then she blinked, momentarily distracted by the random appearance of chocolate in Jihyo’s pocket. “...Wait, did you just have that in your pocket this whole time?”

Jihyo smirked, unwrapping another bar she had stored. “Never leave home without it.”

“Oh you’re weird.. anyways, right. I’ve got this. I’ll take her for a drive, talk things through... Just... make her feel better. Mission: Help Y/N Feel Better is a go.” She gave a dramatic sigh, half-exasperated, half-hoping she wasn’t totally messing this up.

The girls all nodded in unison, giving her supportive smiles.

Momo quickly turned toward the door, but not before shooting one last glance at the girls, her mind still racing. "Thanks, guys."

The scene shifted, and suddenly, Momo was standing with you at the front door. The moment of action felt strangely quiet between you two, almost like you were both holding your breath.

“So...” Momo started awkwardly, holding the strings of her hoodie inbetween her fingers like it might help steady her. “I thought... maybe we could just go for a little drive? Clear our heads. Get away from all of this for a bit.”

You stood there for a second, still processing everything, feeling the cold air against your cheeks. You glanced at her, your eyes tired, but you nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered, forcing a weak smile. “That sounds... good.”

Momo hesitated, her hands fidgeting with her hoodie before she stuffed her hands in its pockets. Her heart skipped. It was like it was happening too fast, but also, it was the only thing that made sense. You needed comfort, and she needed to be there for you. That’s all she could do right now.

“Alright,” Momo said, almost to herself, trying to regain her composure. “Let’s go.” And with that, the door clicked closed behind you both, the world outside waiting—neither of you knowing exactly how the night would unfold, but knowing you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

Momo opened the car door for you, her hands steady but her mind racing. “Here,” she said softly, offering a warm smile as you slid into the seat. She closed the door gently behind you before walking around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the engine. She glanced at you with a playful smile. “You want the heater on?”

You groggily nodded, your body shivering slightly from the cold air outside. The warmth of the car hit you almost immediately, flushing through you like a wave, and you let out a small sigh of relief.

Momo reached into the backseat, pulling out a thick, cozy-looking blanket. She held it up to you, her brow furrowed in mock seriousness. “Do you always just keep this here?”

You raised an eyebrow at her teasing. “Do you want it or not?” Momo shot back, her lips puckered in that endearing way she did when she was being playful.

You giggled softly, nodding. “Fine, I’ll take it.”

With a smile, she wrapped the blanket around you, tucking it in carefully, her hands brushing against your arms as she did. You let out a pleased sigh, sinking deeper into the warmth.

Momo buckled up, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway, her focus now on the road ahead. The quiet hum of the engine filled the car, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You watched the side windows begin to fog up, your breath a little heavier, as you gazed out at the Christmas decorations twinkling in the distance. Couples walked hand-in-hand, laughing under the soft glow of holiday lights, and for a moment, you forgot how cold it had been outside, lost in the warmth of the car.

But then, just as quickly as it came, the thought of him slipped into your mind. It had been your second Christmas together. Your second Christmas you wouldn’t get to share with him again. The ache in your chest returned, the holiday cheer around you somehow making it worse.

Momo broke the silence before it could consume you. “Are you thinking about him again?” she asked bluntly, glancing over at you.

You froze for a second, caught off guard, then quickly lied. “No,” you said, forcing a small smile as you looked away from her.

Momo didn’t miss the way you stiffened, the shift in your expression. She knew. Her voice softened, but there was something else there, something sharp. “He never really deserved you.”

The way she said it made something in your chest tighten. There was an odd tone in her voice—something... almost like jealousy? You looked over at her, trying to make sense of it, but before you could ask, she continued, rambling softly as if trying to hide the edge in her words.

“He was an ass, Y/N. Seriously. No one should treat you the way he did. You deserve so much more than that...”

You couldn’t help it. You teased, your lips curling into a small grin. “Are you sure you’re not the one going through the breakup?”

Momo’s eyes widened in surprise before she laughed softly, her usual playful nature returning. “I’m just... sympathizing,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of something deeper you couldn’t quite place.

You softened, your expression turning more serious. “Thank you, Momo.”

The silence fell again, but this time, it felt different. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just two people, driving through the night, each lost in their own thoughts but sharing the same space, the same moment. The world outside was busy, filled with lights and laughter, but here, in the car, there was only warmth and quiet.

After a few more minutes of driving, Momo pulled into a small coffee shop parking lot. The warm glow of the shop’s windows was inviting, and the smell of coffee and cocoa drifted in the air. Momo shifted the car into park and turned to you, her smile returning. “Let’s go get some hot cocoa. You look like you could use it.”

You stared at the coffee shop happily, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been craving something sweet, something to distract you from the ache that had been gnawing at your chest.

With a quick nod, you unbuckled your seatbelt, excitement bubbling up inside you. “I love hot cocoa,” you said, practically bouncing in your seat.

Momo chuckled at your enthusiasm, rolling her eyes playfully as you quickly hopped out of the car, your steps light. “You’re like a little kid,” she teased, but there was affection in her voice.

You didn’t care. For the first time all night, you felt a little lighter, and Momo was the reason for it.

As you both stepped into the coffee shop, the cozy atmosphere immediately embraced you. The air was filled with the scent of coffee, cinnamon, and a hint of peppermint. The place was decorated with twinkling lights, a large tree in the corner sparkling with gold and red ornaments, and little touches of holiday cheer all around. The soft hum of Christmas music played in the background, making everything feel warm and festive.

Momo walked up to the counter and ordered the Christmas special hot cocoa—whipped cream topped with little Christmas sprinkles, the kind that made you feel like you were inside a snow globe. When the drinks arrived, she handed one to you with a smile.

You took a sip, and the sweetness hit you almost immediately, the warmth of the cocoa comforting you in ways you didn’t expect. A wide smile spread across your face, and Momo watched, amused.

She giggled softly, her eyes crinkling with affection. “You’re adorable,” she mumbled under her breath, watching you with a soft expression. Then, without warning, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture.

You blinked, caught off guard but still smiling, and struck a playful pose, holding up your mug like a model. You giggled at yourself as Momo put the phone down, her eyes still fixed on you.

“I probably look so bad right now,” you said, rubbing your eyes lightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

Momo quickly shook her head, her voice a little too loud in her rush to correct you. “Don’t say that! You’re always pretty, Y/N.” The words slipped out awkwardly, and she immediately flushed, her cheeks turning pink.

You couldn’t help but tease her. “Aww, you’re so sweet, Momo,” you said, your voice teasing as you grinned. “You’re totally in love with me, aren’t you?”

Momo sulked, slumping in her chair and crossing her arms, clearly embarrassed. “Shut up,” she muttered, hiding her face behind her mug. “You’re such a brat.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks. Then, just as the moment started to feel peaceful, Momo reached into the pocket of her hoodie. She paused for a moment before pulling out the chocolate Jihyo had given her earlier. She placed it on the table, shoving it toward you.

“Wowww, so charming,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you picked up the chocolate, unwrapping it with a playful smile.

Momo rolled her eyes dramatically, but she was secretly pleased. “Shut up, just take it,” she muttered.

You bit into the chocolate, letting out a hum of delight at the rich flavor. “Mmm, this is so good,” you sighed, before raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t these Jihyo’s chocolates?”

Momo hesitated for a second, her cheeks flushing again. “Uh... yeah... but she said I could have it... or something...” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

You smirked, teasing her again. “Sure you didn’t just steal it, huh?”

She quickly changed the topic, eager to avoid the embarrassment. “Okay, okay. Let’s go for another drive. There are some really cute light displays I wanted to show you. You’ll love them.”

You finished your cocoa with a smile, feeling lighter than before, and nodded eagerly. “I’m in,” you said, excited again. “Lead the way!”

Momo stood up and grabbed her jacket, offering her hand out to you with a smile. “Alright, let’s get out of here. The lights are waiting.”

You slipped your hand into hers, and together, you stepped out into the chilly night air, the car ride ahead feeling like the perfect distraction, filled with warmth, laughter, and—maybe even a little bit of magic.

Momo sat in the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as you climbed back into the car. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, but your eyes sparkled, still captivated by the lights you had just seen.

“These lights are so pretty,” you said softly, glancing out the window at the glow illuminating the snowy streets. Turning to her, you added with a small smile, “This is really nice... especially because I’m with you.”

Momo’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel, her heart skipping a beat. She tried to steady her breath, her eyes briefly flicking to yours before darting back to the road. “Really?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

You nodded, resting your hands in your lap. “Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this... peaceful.”

She wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in her throat. Just as she gathered the courage to speak, your phone buzzed, breaking the fragile moment. You sighed, pulling it out and staring at the screen. Jisung. Your stomach twisted as you hesitated, but ultimately, you answered.

“Hello?” Your voice lacked its usual warmth.

On the other end, Jisung’s tone was sharp and frustrated. “Y/N, we need to talk.”

“What’s left to talk about?” you replied, exhaustion lacing your words. “You broke up with me today, Jisung. On Christmas Eve.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be like that!” he snapped, his voice rising. “But you never listen to me—”

His words blurred together as your chest tightened, the overwhelming weight of the day catching up to you. You blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears burning your eyes. “I don’t have the energy for this,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. But before you could say more, Momo leaned over and gently, but firmly, took the phone from your hand.

“She’s busy,” Momo said sharply into the receiver, her tone calm but edged with steel. Without waiting for a response, she hung up and set the phone down on the dashboard. You stared at her, stunned. “Momo, you didn’t have to do that—”

“Yes, I did,” she interrupted, her jaw tightening. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the intensity there made you forget to breathe. “He doesn’t get to talk to you like that. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Her voice was steady, but there was a tremble in her hands that gave her away. “You deserve so much more than someone who makes you feel like this, Y/N. Someone who cares about you, who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”

You swallowed hard, her words striking something deep within you. “Momo...”

Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her lap, exhaling slowly. “If it were me,” she continued, her voice quieter now, “I’d treat you better than that.”

Her confession lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. Your heart raced, and you turned to fully face her, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah?” Momo froze, realizing the weight of what she’d just said. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet yours, her vulnerability laid bare. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible but sure.

The silence between you thickened, the atmosphere in the car charged. Outside, the city lights sparkled in the distance, but neither of you noticed.

“I want to kiss you right now,” Momo blurted, her voice cutting through the quiet. Your lips curved into the faintest smile, and you tilted your head slightly. “So do it.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated. Then, she leaned in, her hand trembling as it came to rest gently against your cheek. Her lips brushed yours softly at first, testing, before pressing more firmly. The kiss was warm, tender, and filled with an unspoken emotion that made your heart ache in the best way.

The faint taste of chocolate and strawberry lingered between you, and when she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours. Her eyes fluttered open, searching yours nervously.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, your fingers brushing against her cheek as you leaned closer. “Then don’t stop now.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile before she kissed you again, the city lights twinkling behind you as the night finally felt like Christmas.

The kiss deepened slowly, the initial tenderness giving way to something more urgent, more desperate. Momo’s hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, her fingers threading through your hair as she tilted her head to press closer. Her lips moved against yours with a quiet, restrained passion, as though she had been holding herself back for far too long but was afraid of overwhelming you.

Your hand found its way to her shoulder, gripping the fabric of her hoodie as if grounding yourself in the moment. Her other hand rested on your waist, fingers splayed like she couldn’t get enough of the feel of you under her touch.

The warmth in the car seemed to rise, the windows fogging slightly as her lips parted against yours, and you felt her breath mix with your own. There was a soft, almost inaudible sound from her throat, a hum of satisfaction that sent a shiver through you.

Your body leaned into hers instinctively, the space between you shrinking until there was hardly any left, swinging your legs over to straddle her lap. The kiss grew more insistent, her lips moving with a rhythm that felt like a conversation without words. She pulled you closer, and your chest pressed against hers, the tension thick and electric.

When you broke apart for air, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces still inches apart. Her dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something raw and unfiltered that made your pulse race. Her thumb brushed against your jaw as if she couldn’t stop touching you, and her lips were slightly swollen, glistening from the kiss.

“Momo…” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nerves and anticipation.

Her eyes flicked to your lips, and she exhaled shakily. “I—” she began, but words seemed to fail her as her gaze returned to yours, her need palpable in the way her hands tightened their hold on you. “I want you.” she bit her lip lightly, “Please?”

You nodded lightly and she didn’t waste any time, latching onto your neck, a needy groan escaping her lips as she bit onto your skin. “Fuck, Momo..” you whined.

She continues to suck on your neck, her hands roaming under your shirt to toy with your chest almost possessively. She breaks away slightly, panting, "Let’s go to the back..."

You nod and she climbs into the backseat after you, a lustfilled glint in her eyes. She closes the door and locks it, ensuring privacy. She turns to face you, her gaze intense, yet you could see the slight nervousness on it. "Take off your shirt..."

You slip off your jacket before taking off your shirt, revealing your black bra that’s decorated with lace at the hems, Momo’s mouth practically drooled at the sight, “You’re so beautiful..” she muttered before pulling you closer, she pushed you down softly onto the cars door as she hovered over your body, kissing from your collarbone to your chest, swiftly unlatching your bra, almost like muscle memory.

She cursed under her breath at the sight of your bare chest and didn’t waste any time to latch on, putting her swollen lips onto one of your hardened nipples, a sensitive moan escaping your lips as your hands tangled onto her black hair, she hummed in delight, “Gosh Y/N-ie, you taste so good..” you whimpered as you grinded your clothed center on her thigh, a pout on your lip as you carressed her head.

“No ones fucked you like this before, no?” she kept sucking your tits as her hands fiddled on the buttons of your jeans. You shook your head, “Bet that shit-head of your boyfriend couldn’t make you feel good.” she bit softly onto your nipple, you threw your head back slightly. “Hnngh— n-no…” Momo chuckled softly “Yeah? couldn’t make your pretty cunt feel good?”

She digged her hand through your pants and began toying on your swollen clit through your underwear, “Couldn’t… satisfy me.—Nngh.”

“Gosh, you’re so wet, baby, so fucking cute, can’t wait to feel you inside me.” she smirked against your skin, leaving a path of wet kisses all over your collarbone and breasts. “Please, i need it Momo..”

“Yeah? you need me inside you? Fuck..” she slowly dipped her fingers in your wet cunt, moving your panties to the side as she tested the waters, letting you adjust to her length, you could see in her face she was holding back—holding back the urge to absolutely ruin you with her fingers, make you forget the existence of that shitty man from how good she was making that pussy feel.

She curled her fingers in deeper, her palm rubbing your clit from time to time, she pressed her lips on yours in a hungry kiss, a low husky growl leaving her lips as your moans vibrated against them, your sounds were like a vivid symphony to her, she craved more and more, the touch of your skin, the wetness and tight squeeze around her length, the smell of slight musk covered by your fruity perfume—she craved it all.

“Gosh i’ve wanted this for so long. I crave you, Y/N.” she moved her fingers in figure eights, “Wanted you so badly—wanted to have you like this.” she kissed your neck as she curled her fingers, inching them even deeper now, “Fuck—! Momo.. It feels so good!” she chuckled before speeding up her pace again, the muscles on her forearm flexing at every thrust. “Yeah? Unnie fucks your pussy good, right?”

“So fucking good—Gosh, fuckfuck fuck! Momo..” She practically ripped your pants off you, the garment flying somewhere to the passenger seat, your panties coming off with it too. “Good girl, baby.” she coos as she puts her tongue right on your pussy, both her fingers and tongue doing the work, your hand instinctively went to push her further into your cunt, her structured nose brushing against your clit, she smelled the scent of sex, your wetness—it was addicting.

Her chin was coated with a mix of her own saliva and your pussy juices. The sound of pornographic squelching, low groans and moans echoed through the cars exterior, you were so dripping wet she was sure she’d have to deep clean her car seat after this.

She grabbed your thighs, a rather harsh squeeze as she pushed you down onto her tongue, you began rutting your hips back and forth on her face, humping your cunt on it like a bitch in heat. It wasn’t long until you felt close, that knot form in your stomach, breathing getting heavier and moans going up an octave as your voice cracked. “Momo-nee, fuck…fuckfuckfuck— close, i’m fucking close.”

She spat on your cunt, “Yeah? cum for me, Y/N, keep moaning my name.” and you did as requested, vision turning white as you saw stars; eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body went into a slight spasm from your orgasm.

She helped you ride your high, seeing your face during orgasm and how pretty your back looked arched might’ve made her cum on the spot, untouched. “Gosh, you’re so pretty..” she pampered you with kisses all over your face and lips, tiny whiny giggles from the ticklish feeling leaving your lips.

Suddenly your face grew red and you avoided her gaze.

“Are you okay?” Momo’s eyebrows furrowed as she caressed your cheek, her eyes beady under the christmas moonlight. “I’m sorry if i pushed it, I…uhm.. we can pretend this never happened and I’ll—“

“No no, it’s okay. I liked it, a lot, It’s just…” you bit your lip out of hesitation “That was my first time with uhm.. a girl.”

Momo’s face grew red, she tried to speak up but only an exhale escaped her mouth, there was a moment of silence before you both giggled, “Come on, let’s go home before the girls think i drove you off a cliff or something.” She handed you your clothes and the blanket that was in the passenger before she jumped to the drivers seat, starting the engine and driving off while you got dressed in the back.

“I guess that chocolate really was useful after all.”

#wlw #gxg #twice smut #twice x reader #kpop gg #kpop smut #kpop #smut #momo twice #hirai momo #twice hirai momo #momo x you #momo x fem reader #momo x reader

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piccoloswifers · 3 months ago

Text

Piccolo x Wife!Reader

Piccolo realizes he completely missed your anniversary

TW: A little spicy, You make out with your husband

To be fair to Piccolo, he didn't mean to forget your anniversary...he was just really busy at the moment

He's been training the kids, and when he wasn't doing that then he was training with Goku and Vegeta for another tournament

He's hardly seen you at all, actually...

Piccolo doesn't even realize that he missed your anniversary until Vegeta reminds him

"I'm surprised Y/N let you skip your anniversary for training, Bulma would've pitched a fit if it were her."

Piccolo suddenly felt like a bucket of ice water was dumped all over him

"My what..?"

The feeling got worse when Goku cut in, munching down on some meat

"Oh yeah! I guess those things are important! Don't worry, Piccolo, I forget that stuff all the time and Chi-Chi only gets mad for a little while!"

He can feel his brain shutting down as the reality of the situation sinks in, he had completely forgotten his wedding anniversary

Which means he had left you all alone without even so much as a scrap of affection from him

Had he even told you he loves you recently? He can't remember the last time he had said it...this tournament completely took over his thoughts

He wondered if you were angry with him, or if instead you were upset and thinking he didn't care about you

Immediately picking up on Piccolo's terrified silence, Vegeta scoffs and crosses his arms while shaking his head at him

"Don't tell me you forgot! Out of all of us here, you're supposed to be the husband who remembers that kind of stuff! You better go see your wife if you want to continue living after we win this tournament."

Piccolo is already flying off before Vegeta can say anything more, the prince can't believe that Bulma forced him into this plot to get the Namekian home to apologize to his wife

Why should he stick his nose into their marriage?! Because Bulma told him to?! Fine!

You were at home trying not to sulk, you understood how important this tournament was but you just wanted your husband to check in at least

With how crazy and stressful things have been lately, you yourself almost forgot about your wedding anniversary

Instead, you ended up waiting by the window all day hoping to see your husband flying home...

Then you spent all night staring at your phone, hoping that he would at least call you...

It hurt just enough that you spent the next day with Bulma and Chi-Chi, whining about how much you missed Piccolo

"I just wanted to snuggle my stupidly handsome husband and kiss him until he begs for mercy..."

They had taken you out to go shopping and eat delicious food, which had helped you feel a little better. At least they understood how you felt

You're broken out of your sadness by the sound of Piccolo calling your name, his frantic tone startling you

"Piccolo, what's wrong-"

"Forgive me!"

You nearly run right into him, your husband on his knees, and holding up a mangled looking bouquet of flowers that he must've hastily grabbed

He's panting and out of breath like he flew the entire way home, his antennae drooping with guilt

"I didn't mean to miss our anniversary, forgive me..."

Suddenly, he's burying his face into your stomach and hugging you tightly before you can even respond. You instinctively start rubbing his head, doing your best to soothe him

It felt good to be held by Piccolo again, you had missed him so much lately...

You can't help yourself, you had already forgiven him the moment you saw him home again

"You stupid pathetic husband of mine...~"

Piccolo melts the moment you touch him, closing his eyes and immediately letting out a sigh of relief 😮‍💨

Your soft hands slide down to cup his cheeks, guiding his face upwards so that you can kiss him properly, his large hands coming up to grip your hips

Suddenly, his hands slide down under your thighs as he lifts you up, making you gasp in surprise before smiling and pulling him in for another kiss

"You better make it up to me, Piccolo~"

"Gladly."

Your body heats up at the sight of your husband's smug smirk, feeling the way his grip on your body tightens as you run your fingers down his neck

A needy moan escapes you as your hands come to rest against his chest, feeling one of his fangs catch on your tongue just enough to be hot

You both pull away just enough to stare intensely at the other, panting into each other's mouths as you both come to the same conclusion

Your breathless laughter echoes around the house as Piccolo carries you into your shared bedroom, the flowers trampled on the floor and forgotten

Piccolo is back with Goku and Vegeta the next day, blushing furiously as Goku inquires about the new marks on his neck and back

"Woah! Did you and Y/N spar for your anniversary? I wish Chi-Chi and I could do that!"

"Shut. Up."

#piccolo dbz x reader #piccolo x reader #dragon ball piccolo #dbz x reader #piccolo dragon ball z #piccolo dbz #dragon ball z x reader

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emotionalsupport-ljh · 6 months ago

Text

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

#another one thank you #cant write anything but being head over heels in love rn #woozi #seventeen #lee jihoon #svt #lee jihoon fanfic #lee jihoon fanfiction #lee jihoon x reader #woozi fanfiction #woozi fic #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #lee jihoon fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff

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kiyoramen · 3 months ago

Note

hii!! Is your request box open rn?? if so can i request a comfort fic about osamu who has a very cheerful and talkative gf, she stopped talking because of her stress from uni and he didnt even notice it because he is also v busy, you can make as angsty or as fluffy as you’d like

ps. I reallyy love the suna fic you made😮‍💨

warning: this is genuine word vomit because i am freaking out over uni and i need to feel like im in control

osamu stares at the one stubborn lightbulb inside the kitchen that just won't stop flickering. he sits on the his favorite stool tapping his pencil against his thick notebook filled with chicken scrawl and drawings that only he can understand.

he sighs, stands up, and walks around the kitchen trying to figure out his options. in the midst of thinking, he remembers you. breath in, breath out. that's it baby, i'm here. you would always say.

he pats the pockets on his pants and apron and fishes out his phone from one of them. he opens your chat log, expecting updates but sees none. then he opens messages from his brother, he sees a picture of you with your eyebrows furrowed, staring at your laptop, your back like the hunchback of notredame's. the picture was send 2 hours ago.

he opens your contact and dials your number.

the number you have dialed cannot be reached.

he frowns and open's his brother's instead and calls him. he answers immediately.

"why are ya with my girl?"

he can hear a faint jazz track in the background and the clinking of cups and forks on plates. atsumu doesn't answer for a while, seemingly not listening to the phone.

"hey ugly" he greets osamu.

osamu repeats his question and atsumu answers, "saw her at the cafe near uni, she's seriously in the zone bro, she didn't even notice me for 10 minutes"

"let me talk to her"

atsumu nods, osamu imagines, and he hears shuffling again before he's greeted with a disgruntled hello.

"hi baby, you got a minute?"

he hears you sniff and he can hear your aggressive typing, it sounds like you're chasing time.

"i don't know, can you be quick, 'samu?"

he sighs, "i just wanted to check up on you"

"great" there's a pause and he hears the clicking of your keyboard even more, "so now that i don't need you to you're checking up on me"

osamu closes his eyes, trying to choose the right words to say, he doesn't want you to aggravate you even more. his own frustrations wash away as he feels yours.

"i'm sorry," he says softly "i was so caught up with work i didn't even notice that you were stressing out"

the other side is quiet for a while, save for atsumu's whining of not having his phone, osamu prays that you deck him on the face.

"i'm sorry too, that was mean but samu i really don't have time to talk, i feel like everything is out of control and i'm literally chasing the time right now..." he listens to you ramble, he's used to this, he knows what to say and he knows when to say it.

by the end of your rant you sigh heavily and he hears your forehead bump softly against the table.

"we can control something" he continues when he doesn't hear anything from you, "breathe with me"

he breathes in and waits for you to do the same, when he hears you he breathes out and you follow. "lets do it at the same time okay?"

"okay" you say meekly.

"breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out"

you breathe together and you feel everything slowing down and you feel control and you feel better.

"is that better?"

"mhm"

osamu picks his pencil up and sits back down on his stool. "i love you alright?"

"i love you too"

"i'll pick you up in an hour?"

"in two hours"

he chuckles, "okay baby, i'll be there"

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu x reader #sorry if this isnt exactly what you asked for #i genuinely needed to do breathing exercises just now #i hate uni #miya osumu #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #osamu x female reader

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radiosteve · 1 year ago

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just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed reading I Knew You thank you so much for writing it 🥺 but I have to say as an Eddie girlie... I'm so curious what happened during that one time him and Baby made out like 😮‍💨

if you do write a blurb about it you best believe I'll eat it up so quick (if not that's fine too btw! my imagination will run wild I suppose HAHA)

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I actually really wanted to write out this scene, so thanks for giving me a reason to! Hope you like it!

Baby Kiss It Better

Warnings: 18+, slight smut, language

Word count: 1.2k

You flung your backpack from your shoulders, leaving it to land on the mess that was Eddie Munson’s bedroom floor. With a sigh, you fell face-first onto his bed, shoving your head into his pillow. Eddie shut the door to his room softly, his worried, wide eyes gazing over your limp figure sprawled out on his bed. Wayne had already left for the day and Eddie couldn’t be more glad, knowing you needed privacy to unwind.

“You alright kiddo?” he slowly approached the bed. Rather than use your words, you responded with a muffled groan, your position unchanged. Eddie sat on the edge of his bed, his hand coming down to pet your head as if you were a cat. Your head shot up then, shooting him a glare. Eddie held his hands up in defense, ceasing the motion. You rolled over onto your back, hugging Eddie’s pillow to your chest.

“I can’t wait until we graduate, then I never have to see Steve’s stupid face again,” you pouted and Eddie leaned over you, his hair dangling in your face.

“Are you forgetting that you live next door to the guy?” he asked, eliciting another groan from you as you lifted your hands to push him away. Eddie just smirked, his smile looking like nothing but trouble. “You know what could make you feel better?” you propped yourself up on your elbows at Eddie’s question, ignoring how they uncomfortably sank into the bed as you did.

“What?” you asked, voice monotone as you still clung to your bad mood. Seemingly out of nowhere, Eddie produced a joint, holding it between his fingers as an offering to you. “I knew we were friends for a reason,” you smirked, snatching the joint from his hand and getting up to find a lighter in the mess of Eddie’s room.

One joint later, the two of you were zoned out on the couch in Eddie’s living room, munching on stale popcorn and a way-too-old granola bar. Eddie had been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past five minutes while you tried to see how much popcorn you could put in his hair before he noticed. The TV played in the background, the low hum of static filling the silent room. You let out a sigh, coming to terms with the fact that Eddie wasn’t going to notice the popcorn’s new place of residency in his hair.

“Fuck, I’d blow someone for a pizza right now,” you exclaimed, having no filter in your inebriated state. Eddie finally pulled his gaze from the wall, fully intending to look at you but getting distracted by the snacks in his hair. He picked up one piece at a time, munching away on each kernel.

“Pizza sounds otherworldly,” Eddie spoke after clearing the snack food from his hair. He got up and grabbed the phone from the kitchen, calling in an order for two large pizzas. He sat back next to you on the couch, spreading his legs wide, hardly noticing the way they brushed against yours.

“Do I have to blow you now?” you asked bluntly, still devoid of embarrassment given how strong your high was. Eddie’s head whipped towards you, eyebrows raised and wide-eyed.

“What? No. Why would you…” Eddie didn’t even finish his question before you cut him off, your words clashing with his.

“Because I said I’d blow… fuck, never mind,” you faced back towards the TV, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. Why were you even mad? It’s not like you wanted to go down on him anyway, right? The question blurred in the fog of your mind, wires crossing and changing what would typically be a ‘no’ into a ‘yes’. You’d always felt at ease with Eddie and the two of you had a good rapport. So fuck it, it's fine.

You turned to Eddie once again, finding his eyes already glued to you. With a nod of permission, you threw one leg over him, sitting comfortably in his lap. He let out a small gasp at the contact, the round of your ass pressed flush against his thighs. That’s when you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a crash of hazy lust.

Eddie couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, the feel of you pressed against him driving him crazy. He’d only kissed two girls before you and was still very much a virgin with a capital V. So the feel of you on him, mixed with his steady high, brought a buzz to his skin that he just couldn’t shake. He couldn’t help the jerk of his hips as he rutted into you while you slipped your tongue against his.

“Fuck,” you drawled out at the feeling, leaning back a bit to revel in the way his hard cock brushed your clothed core through your jeans. You had far more experience than Eddie, but your high set your skin alive too, making you more sensitive than normal. After a moment of Eddie’s eyes searching yours, he did it again, rutting against the rough material of your jeans. A whimper slipped from you then and brought your lips back to Eddie’s. You let your hands tangle through his hair, pulling his head back to place wet kisses on his thick neck.

“Christ,” Eddie cursed as you rolled your hips against his, setting a steady pace. Your lips trailed up from his neck, along his jawline, and back to his lips. “Feels so good, Baby,” Eddie mumbled against your lips as his hands trailed down to your waist, resting there as you ground into him. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the combination of his words and the way his cock felt against your clit.

Eddie’s breath picked up, getting way too close to blowing his load for comfort. But he didn’t want to stop, the weed keeping his head foggy enough to not think about the consequences. You panted into his mouth and your tits jiggled through your t-shirt, bouncing with each roll of your hips. Eddie had to close his eyes to stay in control, but it didn’t matter for very long.

A knock sounded from the front door, suddenly snapping you both back to reality and dissipating your highs. You scrambled off of Eddie, a groan rising in his throat as you did. With a check of your hair and adjustment of your now wrinkled clothes, you opened the door to find the pizza delivery guy. Eddie’s eyes widened at the sight of the man in the doorway. He’d honestly forgotten that he ordered pizza.

Eddie tossed you his wallet from his place on the couch, unwilling to get up and give the pizza guy a good look at his hardened length through his jeans. You paid for the pizzas and closed the door, setting them on the counter. Eddie’s gaze was drawn to the floor while your expression was hidden with a wince.

“So,” you spoke faintly, teetering back and forth on your heels. Eddie peered up at you through his bangs, embarrassed as he waited for you to continue. “We never speak of this again?” you suggested and Eddie nodded instantly. The two of you sighed a breath of relief, knowing that this drug-induced makeout wouldn’t affect your friendship. You grabbed two plates from the cabinet, bringing the pizza boxes over to the coffee table. You sat next to Eddie, a soft smile on your lips as you both grabbed a slice.

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hoeforhao · 1 year ago

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🪀 Love bleeds Lilac 🫐 || Minghao Series || Pt.1

⤥pairing: non idol!minghao x fem!reader

⤥genre: fluff, slight mentions of mental health issues, kind of angst but not too much, discovering self love, lots of comfort. A feel good yet deep concept!!

⤥warnings: none except some mentions of mental health problems.

⤥parts: 1/?

⤥author's note: what's a better way to resume writing than doing it with some minghao angsty fluff!!!! I wrote this piece for wattpad almost two years back but it never saw the light of day😮‍💨. This concept is a first for me so tell me if y'all liked this and want other parts 🫐

[Y/n POV]

Colour? Is it really necessary to have colours in our life? Ain't a monochromatic life more soothing to our eyes and our soul?

I kept asking this question to myself everyday but never found the answer. Everyday I see people walking down the streets, in beautiful clothes painting the world with their own colours. But my world? My world embodies different shades of grey. My friends and family see me as a dull person who just wears either dull or black clothes and looks like as if a dementor sucked out my soul.

How do colours really feel like? Will it fill up my empty dark world with bright sunshine? Will it make me walk a bed of roses instead of thorns? With all these thoughts in my mind, I decided to finally pull myself out from the void and let colours touch myself.

[OTP]

" Hello this is Seoulafeel's Parlour. How may I help you today?" the voice on the phone said.

" Yeah Hello. Good morning. I wanted to make an appointment for hair colour. Can you tell me if a slot is available today and the estimated cost of the service? It will be really helpful if less people are there during my time" Iris spoke hesitatingly.

" Sure ma'am. You can book an appointment at 3 in the noon. We will have few customers then and you'll feel comfortable. Also the cost for the colour will vary from 20,000 KRW to 50,000 KRW depending on the type of colour you choose" the person from the other side informed.

" Okay I'll be there by 2:50! Thanks a lot for considering my request. Have a good day" with this she ended the call.

[Y/n POV]

Am I really ready for this? Am I ready to come out of the closet I've been in all these years? But I need to take the risk! I need to know what happens if I live like others do. Let's do it Kim Y/n let's do this!

*Time skip*

It's 14:45 and here I'm, standing in front of a glass door adorned by beautiful white flowers. The board above the gate says "Seoulafeel's Parlour. We make you feel your soul". I guess it's really time for me to listen to my inner voice. After convincing myself for about 7 mins, I finally pushed open and door and stepped in. I had no idea that that one step will change my entire life.

As I bring myself to the receptionist's desk they ask me my name and my appointment time and then escort me to the hair colour station. Being the socially awkward person I'm, I didn't look around and just plopped onto the chair. The hair stylist ties the cape around my neck and tells me to wait for a few mins. As I was waiting while playing with my fingers, I suddenly heard a deep voice; a voice which sent shivers down my spine, one which held a book of mysteries within itself.

"So what colour are you planning on doing Ms?" the voice asked.

I slowly turned my head sideways to see a tall figure sitting on the chair beside me. Only his pants and the sleeves of his jacket were visible below the cape. To my surprise they were all black, just like me, just like my world. His hair was covered his eyes and but I still could feel his side stare, piercing holes into my soul. I was lost in him when I heard the same voice again,

"It's disrespectful to stare at a stranger like that Ms. But I'm a gentleman so I won't mind"

I could clearly feel his smirk even though he was wearing a mask.

I finally mustered up the courage to speak to him.

" I haven't really decided the colour yet. I may go for blue. The colour blue attracts me a lot just like the endless seas."

"Well blue is indeed a fascinating colour. It makes the soul wander free and dream beyond boundaries"

I was shocked. I always used to think that I was the one who always found deeper meanings in everything. But him talking like that make me rethink.

" What colour are you going for then?" I asked.

"Red. Just like the Earth's burning core. Just like how hell is defined in books. But also the colour that made the poets define love with it" the man replied.

I just hummed in response.

"You know right that red and blue makes purple? The colour of finding yourself and finding the one who makes you fins your self"

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rosewaterboard · 3 months ago

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dreading talking on the phone tomorrow severely. People hate spelling their information for me. I'm trying a new approach to calming myself down which is to try not to catastrophize what happens if I can't adapt and don't make it, but I rlly rlly do want to keep a wfh job at least for now if I can help it. It'd be nice if I could do something less phone-oriented though, or just like. idk it's never as bad doing like zoom or a teams meeting with a coworkers/supervisors where you can resolve audio issues or miscommunication at least mostly efficiently with no hangups. I also just particularly dread our system bc it's Quirky Old Reliable Software, but it's a live system so like none of us had hands on experience until handling annoyed people who've already been transferred xyz many times and I gotta act composed n try to sell that I'm an experienced agent when I'm like.

Staring at parts of the script or navigating a part of the website that I've never made it to before bc there's no dummy version of [redacted] information to put in for training/practice. there's like floor managers to answer questions, but the ratio is like? Idk anywhere between 1 and maybe 4 floor managers to maybe 20-30+ ppl also scared, confused, stuck at various parts of the system, difficult customers, phoning in a lifeline question, tech issues, etcetera, so it's like. Wait times for help or clarification for anybody or anything is a hot minute for anyone. A lot of customers disconnect. I just find the transition to be rlly stressful already and I know it's only going to become extremely more busy for like the next month starting Tuesday. And also bc it's related to healthcare and not like idk food or merchandise customer service, it's like I really do give a shit about not wanting to make anything a hassle for callers so I genuinely do feel awful they have to manage with my learning curve for the system itself.. But also aside from being like apologetic I have to be authoritative and direct the call in some capacity. And they want me to build rapport, be friendly and chatty with some callers, but i can just barely put together what people are saying over the phone half the time and struggle to multitask since I'm still doing so many things for the first time. but I've just spent most of today dreading tomorrow.. if I'm going to have a comfort zone for this I hope it comes together quickly 😮‍💨

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melanieph321 · 11 months ago

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Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 2/6

Ugh, he looks so good 😮‍💨

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

You barley had time time to settle into your new neighborhood in Turin, let alone your new apartment, before your first day at work. You were called into the office upon the same week as your arrival, with your boss eager to meet his new accountant.

"Mr Vlahovic is just finishing up a phone call with Japan. He will be with you in a minute." The lady at the front desk said. "Would you like some water while you wait?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Then please Miss Y/L/N, feel free to have a seat."

It was funny the way she frased that last sentence. You wanted nothing more than to be able to take a seat, or have a glass of water, however the pencil skirt you had bought in a rush did not fit you the way you wanted. It was too tight. One splash of water would make you look bloated and attempting to take a seat might split the fabric, revealing the fact that you wore no underwear to even fit into the skirt. Although the skirt went well with the rest of your attire, you had learned your lesson not to buy designer clothes without trying them on first. The measurements simply didn't match the ones in regular stores.

"Miss Y/L/N?" The lady at the front desk called.

You perked up.

"Mr Vlahovic is ready for you now."

Your heels clicked beneath you as you made your way down a long hallway lit up by the lights from the windows outside. It was a small office building remotely located from downtown Turin. To get to the office you had to either take the bus or ride another vehicle, like a bike. By foot it might be too difficult, specially if you preferred wearing heels to work, since the office building was located on top of a street hill.

You stopped in front of the glass door with a plaque on it that said D.V. da Boss. Through the windows you spotted him, a tall man with short cut hair, overseeing a stack of papers scattered across his desk. You knocked on the door not knowing what to expect, however you knew that your boss was fairly young for his attained position.

"Come in!" He called, without raising his head to look at you. He remained standing next to his desk, looking to ponder over the piece of paper in his hand. "You arrived just in time." He mumbled. "I'm trying to finalize my next project but I just can't seem to get the numbers..."

The man had gone to lower the paper that blocked his view of you, he then froze, eyes wide in suprise.

"You?" He said.

"Me?" You repeated, not really sure how to react to a man, fairly young and handsome, who's eyes wandered freely upon your frame.

"I..." He seemed lost for words. But clearly he recognized you from somwhere, but how, you wondered. You had never stepped foot in Italy before let alone Turin of all places.

"I didn't know that I would see you again." He said, the first sentence he was able to form, having stopped staring at you with such baffled eyes.

And then it hit you, his voice, that smile, those baffled eyes.

"Fuck me."

********************************************

Dusan tried to keep his cool, but ultimately failed to as the memories came flowing back. Summer in Miami. His two week vacation had been necessary but ultimately too dull for his liking. That was, until he met her. "Y/N."

"Yes?"

She answered him, hands clasped together before her, a sign of nervousness. He was making her nervous.

"Wait" He thought aloud. His new employee that he was supposed to meet today was also named Y/N. But it couldn't be, she couldn't be.

"You're here....this is such a..." There were no words to describe the internal shock that he was feeling. The girl of his dreams, the one he thought to have left behind in Miami, was now standing before him, looking incredible in her tightly fitted skirt. Fuck. Dusan lifted his gaze, knowing that she must have caught him staring.

"Ciao, ciao!"

Just then his assistant Louisa entered the room, making the situation less awkward than it already was.

"I see you've met your newest employee Dusan." She smiled at him, having previously told him about the great candidate that she had selected out of all the applications. Little did he know that Y/N had been amongst those applicants.

"Y/N got here last week." His assistant said. "She's staying in downtown Turin by the condos you bought last year. I hope you're settling in well dear, you can always call us if you need anything." She said, turning to Y/N.

"Thank you, but I'm all good." She bowed her head with courtesy. Something that caused a stirr beneath Dusan's bowels, a stirr he had to gained absolute control of if he wanted to come out of this situation alive.

"Y/N, has come a long way from America. I think we owe our newest employee a tour of the city, don't you think Dusan?"

"Um, I might be busy." He mumbled.

"Too busy to show the poor girl around town?"

Dusan felt heat rise to his cheeks as Y/N eyes looked to him. "I've got work." He coughed, feeling himself spiral out of control right then and there.

"Don't worry." His assistant said, patting Y/N on the back, leading her out of his office. I'll give you a quick tour of the city myself, let's start with your new office shall we?"

Dusan was left alone as the two women strutted out of the room. He fell back in his desk chair, spinning it around to face the windows. He rushed to open them, as well as the top buttons of his shirt. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was cut too short by his barber. He was very displeased. "How the fuck am I going to fix this?" He thought to himself. Because it had been a mistake hiring Y/N. The memories of last summer, how the two had met and the things they had done together. It could ruin him. He had to get rid of her, if so God help him.

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic x reader #dusan vlahovic #juventus #juventus fc #italy #italia #turin

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evilhagspage · 8 months ago

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Always an Angel, Never A God: Chapter One.

1×9--Home

Synopsis: Reader, an estranged friend of the Winchesters, reconnects with them in their hometown of Lawrence, Kansas. She accompanies them on their hunt, and canon typical chaos insues.

Warnings: Swearing, canon-typical violence and spookiness, mentions of dead family members, estranged/missing family members, fucked up family dynamics. Use of Y/n and she/her pronouns, and written in first person.

A/N: Me when I lie when I said this would be out at noon 😮‍💨🫶🙃 my phone glitched tf out and didn't post it?? Anyway, if the summary doesn't describe something you're interested in please read something else! I am sensitive and not open to criticism lmao!!

Act One

***

I exhale a shuddering breath as I pass the sign reading, "Welcome to Lawrence." It's been years since I've been back; and I'm only brave enough to come back now because my dad's dead. It sounds callous, I know, but growing up as a hunter's daughter was hard. Really, really hard. Although, I imagine no matter what my father's occupation had been, we would have had a tumultuous relationship.

I pull myself out of my thoughts as I turn down Missouri’s street, a psychic that my dad knew in his hunting days. I take my hands off the wheel one at a time and shake out the tension as I pull up to her house. I have a somber moment to myself, taking in the sweet, quiet neighborhood. It fills me with a squeezing melancholic feeling in my chest.

Missouri obviously knew I was there, given her gift, and she swung open the door with a wide, bright smile. I return it and make my way up the steps.

"Hi, baby!" she exclaims, bringing me in for a warm hug.

"Hey, Miss Missouri. How's it going?"

"Oh, much better now that I see your beautiful face!" She punctuates this with a loving pat on my cheek. "How are you feeling?"

I try to stop my face from falling. "I've, you know. I've been better."

She gives me a softer, empathetic look. "I know, sweetheart. Life hasn't been kind to you. Let's go inside, we'll talk about it, okay?"

I nod at her, swallowing the lump in my throat.

***

I swipe my hands down my pants, drying the nervous sweat that's collected there. Missouri comes back with a cup of tea for each of us, sitting across the coffee table from me. "Thanks," I say, holding the warm cup in my hand and letting it ground me. The sweet aroma flows up to my nose, and I can't help but smile. "Chamomile! How did you remember it’s my favorite?" She gives me a humorous look, and I remember. "Oh, right. Psychic."

She chuckles. "Yeah, and I can handle more than tea. Why don't you get out that list for me?"

I try and fail to stifle my shock. It's such an odd feeling to converse with a psychic; one moment, it's a normal conversation and the next they reveal their innate ability to see your innermost thoughts. It makes me feel exposed. I reach into my bag and pull out my notebook, staring at the first bullet point. Mom.

"What do you want to know about her?" Missouri asks.

I sigh, furrowing my brows. "You know, I...I don't even know. I mean, there are so many things I wish I could know about her. You know, like was she a hunter? What's her favorite color?" I laugh humorlessly at that one, as Missouri nods along. "But, I guess what I want to know the most is, is she okay? And if she is, would she want to…to know me?"

Missouri takes a moment, shifting forward in her seat and looking down in thought. "You know, your father has asked me about her many times. And each time, it's been fuzzy. Almost like, I can see that there's something behind the window, but it's all smudged and blurry. Even now, I can't quite make it out. I'm sorry, baby."

I nod, biting the dry skin off of my lip. Something about that answer doesn’t satisfy me. I know Missouri wouldn’t lie to me on purpose, but I can’t help but wonder if she is withholding something. “Yeah, it's okay. Maybe...maybe that just means I'm not ready to hear it."

"Maybe. I know, that doesn't make it easier."

"Not really, no," I chuckle honestly.

We sit there for a moment in somber silence. Missouri breaks it, asking, "What's next on your list?"

I shift to get more comfortable in my seat, and look down at my notebook again.

"Ah, them. I'm surprised, y'all were always so close,” she prods.

"Yeah, yeah. We, uh, we definitely were. Things, uh, things have just been so different, recently, you know?"

"Well, y'all have all been through a lot."

"Yeah, you’re tellin’ me," I agree.

"So, what do you want to know about Sam and Dean?"

I pause, looking down again. I try and fail to take in a deep breath. I swallow the lump in my throat that forms every time I think about the Winchester brothers. "Well, I'm sure you know that it hasn't been as long since I've talked to Dean. We still keep in touch, it's just been a lot more few and far between than it used to.”

“And why is that?” she questions, although I can guess by her face she already knows the answer.

“It’s my fault, really. Ever since my dad…you know, I sort of began to distance myself.” Missouri nods, encouraging me to continue. “I just–it became more difficult to be around John all the time. To have him try to step up as my father figure when he didn’t even raise his own kids. And Dean…Dean is my best friend, right? But he has become John’s little shadow. He tries to emulate his every move, anticipate his every thought, and it’s exhausting. And without Sam as a buffer…it just got to be too much.”

She looks at me, searching. “What about Sam?”

I pause, confused. “What–sorry, what do you mean? I thought we were talking about Dean?”

“I’m confident that you and Dean’s conflict will resolve with time. I want to know about Sam, because that’s who you really came here to ask about. Right?”

For the millionth time this afternoon, I'm stunned by her insight. "Well, I wouldn’t, um, I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s true…completely…” My rambling peters out at her knowing look. Sighing, I concede. “Yeah, Miss Missouri. I miss him so much. It’s the type of missing someone that makes it hard to breathe, you know? And I know, it’s rich to be mad at Sam for needing space when I have distanced myself from Dean. But, I don’t know…I’m just so hurt. We used to talk every single day. About everything. And we haven’t talked since–”

"Since he ran away to college?" I nod. "Yeah. What do you need me to find out about him?"

I feel the lump in my throat come back. I exhale down at my lap, wishing that talking about Sam didn't make me so emotional. "Is he okay?" I ask finally, voice slightly trembling.

"Oh, Y/n," Missouri coos, rising from her seat to sit next to me on the couch. She takes my hands in hers, looking into my eyes. "He's okay. He's happy."

"Would he, um, would he want to talk to me again?" She closes her eyes, signaling to me that she's searching the other side for info. Her eyes move back and forth rapidly behind her lids, her brows furrowing. "What? What is it?"

"He's, he's actually really close. They both are." I lean forward, my heart pounding.

"Really?" Her eyes fly open as someone knocks on the door. My mouth drops to my chest, eyes wide. "No fucking way..."

"Y/n! Watch your mouth," Missouri scolds.

"Sorry, I just, is it?"

"Yeah, it is." She rises to get the door.

***

I'm frozen on the couch as I hear the rumble of their voices for the first time in ages. My heart flutters as Missouri addresses Sam, apologizing about his girlfriend. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, much less what could have happened to her. Their voices get louder as they walk into the living room where I'm sitting. The thick stomp of their boots halt dead in their tracks as they see me. I look up, watery eyes taking in Dean and Sam Winchester. "Hi," I say meekly. They both stare at me, blinking slowly and their mouths slightly agape. Sam's cheeks blush, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. His hair is longer, falling into his eyes and flipping around his ears. Dean looks the same, maybe some more freckles dotting his nose, sporting his old leather jacket. He's the first to break, a bright smile creeping onto his face.

"Y/n?!" He asks. I nod shyly and Missouri slaps him on the shoulder, launching him forward, encouraging him towards me. I stand to meet him and he embraces me quickly, cupping the back of my head. We sway for a second, before he squeezes, holding me back at arms length to drink in my appearance. "You look great, sweetheart," he says cheekily.

"You don't look so bad yourself, stud," I giggle back. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." He steps back, smiling at Sammy. He nods his head towards me in encouragement.

"Heya, Sammy," I start apprehenseively. He takes a step towards me, a smile highlighting the dimple in his cheek.

"Hey there, stranger," he says softly. He takes a couple more steps, meeting me in the middle. "Can I, uh, can I hug you?"

"Yes, please," I breathe, practically launching myself in his arms. I squeeze him around the middle, silent tears threatening to make their way down my face. It's been so long since I've heard his voice, and even longer since I've seen him in the flesh. I feel my whole body relax in his embrace. "It's really, really good to see you," I sniffle, hastily wiping my face.

He pulls me back, petting a hand through my hair. "It's good to see you too."

I reluctantly pull away from Sam’s warmth, and Dean asks me, “So, what are you doing back here? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

I blush a little in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have pulled away so much.”

He shakes his head, being genuine as he consoles me. “Nah, come on, bubba. You don’t have to do all that. I would definitely prefer it if you didn’t go MIA on me again, but I get it. Life’s sucked recently.”

“Thank you, Dean. You’ve certainly matured since we last talked.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately. “Shut up, punk.”

“You first, asshole.” Sam grins, watching us fall back into our comfortable back and forth. Missouri clears her throat at my use of language, and I shoot her an apologetic look. “Oh, I’m here to talk to Miss Missouri about some, uh questions I had for the other side, so to speak. She worked with my dad a while back. She’s the best,” I beam.

“Which brings us to why you’re here: your father’s missin’?” she asks.

“John’s missing?” I ask, concerned.

"Yes, we, uh, haven't heard from him in a while," Dean explains.

"Oh shit," Missouri shoots me another exasperated look. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Y'all quit standing around, you're making me anxious." We all scramble towards the couch as she scolds us, the boys getting comfortable on either side of me. Just like old times. "So, your father. How can I help?”

"Yes ma'am. We were wondering if you could, uh see him? Is he okay?" Dean asks.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, do you see me sawing some tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air." Sam and I snicker during her monologue, and Dean leans back in his seat, defeated. She whips her head back to him, reprimanding, "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table I'mma whack you with a spoon!"

He looks at us, in shock, defensively replying, "I didn't do anything."

"But you were thinking about it." Dean turns to me, raising his eyebrows. I just smile back at him, enjoying this.

"She's good, Dean."

He rolls his eyes at me playfully, and Sam asks, "Okay, so our dad--when did you first meet him?"

"He came in for a reading," Missouri responds, "a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say...I drew back the curtains for him."

The fire she's referring to is the one that killed Sam and Dean's mom. Dean was four, and Sammy was just six months old when it happened. The papers said it was some faulty wiring, some tragic freak accident. But we know better. It was something supernatural, we just don't know what.

Dean's interest had peeked when she mentioned the incident. "What about the fire? Do you know what killed our mom?"

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam prods.

Missouri looks serious, almost sad. "I..." she falters, shaking her head.

"What was it?"

"I don't know. Oh, but it was evil." I sit back, looking at her pensively. The boys deflate, as if their fears have been answered. "So, you think somethin' is back in that house?"

"Definitely." Sam answers.

"I don't understand."

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why's it actin' up now?"

"I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once--It just feels like something's starting."

"Well, that's a comforting thought," Dean quips.

"Tell you what. Why don't I come to the house with you, see if I can feel out what's there?" Missouri offers.

"Yeah, that's about the best option we've got right now," Sam says. "Thank you, Miss Missouri. That's really kind of you to offer."

"Of course, baby. Any way I can help. Let me go get some of my things and then we can head on our way, okay?" We all nod in agreement as she makes her way upstairs.

"So, you comin' with us?" Dean asks me after a moment.

I sit there, taken aback a little. "Me?"

"Yeah, of course. It'll be nice to have the old gang back together."

I smile at this, looking down at my hands to hide my blush. "Yeah, that would be nice." I think for a moment, feeling insecure. "I just, I don't know, I'm out of practice. And I don't want to intrude on this family thing..."

Sam speaks up this time, saying, "Dean's right, we could really use your help. And, you wouldn't be intruding...you are family, Y/n." I smile at him softly, thinking.

"Okay. Sure, I'll help. But, y'all are going to have to catch me up on everything since we've talked last. Especially you, Sammy. I want real stories, not just 'oh, you know it was fun.'" As I tease him, a sadness washes over his face, and I worry I crossed a line. Just as quickly as it came, it left. He extends his pinky towards me, an old tradition of ours.

"I pinky promise," he says. We seal the deal, and I turn towards Dean, offering him my other pinky.

"Come on, no. I don't do that shit."

"Please, Dean? How else will I know you will keep your promise?"

"'Cuz I'm a man of my word."

"Mmnm, not good enough and you know it." He gives me an exasperated look, and I dramatically pout at him. Stick out my bottom lip, tilt my eyebrows, bat my eyelashes, the whole nine. He rolls his eyes, before wrapping his pinky around mine. I use the contact to yank him closer and plant a sloppy, loud kiss on his cheek, smacking exaggeratedly. He grimaces and wipes off his cheek aggressively. "Thank you, bubba!" I tease, using our childhood nickname for each other as even more leverage.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a selfless angel. Now get your ass in the car."

Excitement washes over my face at the revelation. "Y'all still drive the Impala?"

"Oh yeah. That's easily been Dean's most stable relationship," Sam teases.

"Shut up," Dean shoots back.

"Hey! Y'all quit misbehavin' and let's go!" Missouri hollers, coming back down the stairs.

"Yes ma'am!" we say in unison, scrambling out the door.

***

Act Two

***

Jenny, the current owner of the Winchester's house, whips the door open, looking frazzled. Out of breath, she asks, "Sam, Dean? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jenny. These are our friends, Y/n and Missouri," Sam intros in his softest, kindest voice he could muster. I stand between the boys' broad shoulders, trying to look welcoming and trustworthy.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show them the old house," Dean chimes in. "You know, for old times sake."

She looks anxiously over her shoulder, shaking her head as she tells us, "You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy."

Dean's thin veil of patience drops completely. "Listen, Jenny, it's important. Ow!" He exclaims this last part as Missouri presumably smacks him across the head.

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" she chastises. "Forgive the boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." I crane my neck to glance at Dean, who's standing there scratching his head and looking at Missouri stunned.

"Hear you out about what?" Jenny asks.

"About this house."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

Jenny looks at us, confused and probably scared. "Who are you?" she asks after a moment.

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little."

She looks between the four of us and over her shoulder a few times, chewing her lip in uncertainty. After a moment, her desperation seems to outweigh her apprehension, and she steps to the side, nodding at us inside her home.

***

We find ourselves standing in her daughter, Sari’s bedroom. Missouri looks around, feeling out the space. “If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” she says.

“Why?” Sam asks her.

“This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.” I look towards him, and he seems to be taking in the room with a newfound sadness. I glance around, looking at the window facing the street, the walls, the ceiling where Mary supposedly was when John found her. I look down again to find Sam transfixed on the ceiling as well. Behind us, Dean shuffles through his jacket, pulling out an instrument. “That an EMF?” Missouri asks him.

“Yeah.”

“Amateur.” Dean fixes her with a glare, before nudging Sam and I to point out the EMF meter beeping frantically. “I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved. but this ain’t the thing that took your mom.”

Sam looks back over at her. “Wait, are you sure?” She nods. “How do you know?”

“This isn’t the same energy I felt last time I was here. It’s something different.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“Not it,” she explains, moving towards the closet. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.” My heart sinks.

“What are they doing here?” Dean asks.

“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And, sometimes, wounds get infected.”

“I don’t understand.” Sam says, stepping closer towards her.

“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted to a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.” My hand reaches up to cover my mouth in shock. What could want to hurt an innocent woman and children so fiercely?

“You said there was more than one spirit.” Sam clarifies.

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”

“Well one thing’s for damn sure–nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again,” Dean says with a strong, resolved voice. “So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

***

We make our way back to Missouri’s house, where we find ourselves now, gathered around her dining room table. Scattered in front of us is a collection of assorted herbs, spices, roots, and oils. As we sort through it, Dean asks, “So, what is all this stuff, anyway?”

Missouri answers, “Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends.”

“Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?”

“We’re gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, and west corners of each floor.”

“We’ll be punchin’ holes in the drywall. Jenny’s gonna love that,” Dean teases sarcastically.

“She’ll live,” Missouri replies slyly.

“And this’ll destroy the spirits?” Sam asks this time.

“It should. It should purify the house completely. We’ll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we’re up to, things are gonna get bad.”

I glance at her, then the boys, feeling slightly nervous at our impending tasks. Dean is hyperfocused on building the hex bags, while Sam gives me a reassuring smile. I return it, and look back down as I feel blood rush to my face.

***

Back at Jenny’s home, Missouri guides her and her kids out of the house, while I sort through the supplies in Dean’s well loved duffel bag. I hear Jenny tell Missouri worriedly, “Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you guys here alone.”

Missouri continues to herd her out, saying “Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”

We split up then, Sam and I splitting the top floor, Dean taking the ground floor, and Missouri taking the basement. She had given me a weird, knowing look when I offered to go with Sam that I haven’t been able to shake.

I decided to plant my hex bag in the wall of Jenny’s en-suite bathroom. I raise the hammer and begin to hack into the drywall, when I hear the bathroom door slam shut. I whip my head around to see if maybe someone was there, but no one is. “Sam?” I call out tentatively to no answer. “Shit.” I rise trepidatiously, moving to the door and trying the handle. Locked. “Fuck!” I exclaim, shaking the door and pounding on it, begging it to budge. Suddenly, the tap in the sink and bathtub turn on by themselves, pouring and spraying out water aggressively. I take notice that the drains are seemingly plugged, too. Is this ghost trying to frickin’ drown me in here? I turn back to the door, pounding, tugging, kicking with all my might. “Sam! Dean!” I scream, begging for one of them to hear me. The water from the sink is now pouring off onto the ground. “Shit. Shit!” I look around the room, begging my brain to regain control and find a solution. I see the hex bag and hammer forgotten on the ground and rush over to them. I fiercely hack at the wall, and throw the hex bag inside the gap. A flash of bright, white light appears and rushes out of the room, under the door. The water stops, and the door creaks open a smidge. I take the opportunity and run out, searching for the boys and Missouri.

I crash into Sam’s old bedroom to find him lying on the ground, presumably regaining consciousness. Dean’s crouching over him, cradling his head. “Sam?” I ask hurriedly, rushing over to them. At the sound of my voice he peaks up, sending a tired smirk my way.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly, blinking slowly and frog-like.

I make eye contact with Dean, asking, “What happened?”

He shakes his head, sighing, “I guess we were dealing with some bad mothers here. You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. You?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Kitchen’s a damn mess, though.”

***

Act Three

***

Missouri, Sam, Dean and I stand in the kitchen a few hours later, taking in the scene before us. “You sure this is over?” Sam asks.

“I’m sure,” Missouri answers. “Why? Why do you ask?”

“Never mind,” he relents, sighing. “It’s nothin’ I guess.” I hear Jenny open the door and walk closer to us.

“Hello? We’re home!” she calls before stopping in the kitchen, looking around at the mess. “What happened?”

“Hi,” I say, being the one closest to her. “Um, we’ll pay for…all this,” I gesture behind me. Dean glances over at me, confused.

Missouri steps in, “Don’t you worry, Dean’s gonna clean up this mess.” He stands there, for a moment, not moving. “Well. What are you waiting for boy? Get the mop.” He begins to begrudgingly walk away, before she scolds him. “And don’t cuss at me!” I hear him mutter something under his breath as he continues to walk away, and I can’t hide my smile.

***

Later that night, we find ourselves parked outside Jenny’s house again. I yawn from the backseat, trying to rub the sleep away from my eyes.

“All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asks Sam from the driver’s seat.

Sam sighs, “I don’t know. I just…I still have a bad feeling.” I reach across the seat to squeeze his shoulder.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”

“Yeah, well, probably. But, I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.” Dean slides down to rest his head on the seat back, closing his eyes. Sam shifts so his back is in the corner of the seat and window, so he can look at me and the house easily. I fold my arms across the seat and rest my cheek on them, smiling sleepily up at him. He smirks back at me, showing off his dimple. His eyes quickly flit behind me, catching sight of something towards the house. Fear grows in his eyes, and he hurriedly slaps Dean on the shoulder, waking him up.

“Dean. Look, Dean!” We whip our heads around to see Jenny, standing at the window of her bedroom, screaming for help, banging and clawing on the glass. We quickly jump out of the car, Dean barking orders.

“Y’all grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny.”

“I’ll get Ritchie!” I holler, sprinting into the house and up the stairs to the nursery. Ritchie is standing up in his crib, face red and nose running with sobs. “It’s okay baby, I got you. Come here, sweetheart, come here,” I coo the best I can while I cradle him to my chest. I rush outside with him, meeting Sari, alone, at the door. We run across the lawn to Dean and Jenny, and I look around feverishly for Sam.

“Sari, where’s Sam?” Dean asks breathlessly.

Between sobs, she answers. “He’s inside. Something’s got him.” Dean and I make eye contact, before looking back towards the house. The door slams shut on its own, trapping Sam, and whatever else, inside.

***

Act Four

***

Dean rushes to the trunk to get anything that could help. I heard the family in the car, getting them as comfortable as possible. “Please, stay here. We’ll be back soon. You’re safe here,” I assure them. Dean is halfway across the lawn, and I jog to meet him. He turns around, tossing me a shotgun before hacking down the door with an axe. When he finally makes a hole big enough, we rush in, arms drawn. Sam’s inside the kitchen, his large frame pinned against the wall, feet off the ground. A figure made of hot, white fire stands with him, and Dean raises his gun at it.

“No, don’t. Don’t!” Sam pleads.

“Why not?” Dean shouts back.

“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”

Suddenly, the fire vanishes to reveal a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair in a white nightgown, looking vaguely familiar. Dean stills, lowering his gun as they make eye contact. Her face is warm and inviting, her eyes sparkling in a comforting way. Dean softly murmurs, “Mom?”

“Dean,” she says with a voice like honey. “Sam,” she says, walking towards him. Sam’s face twitches in a sad smile, and hers falls from her face. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“For what?” Sam asks. Mary smiles at him sadly, but doesn’t answer. She walks away from him, looking up towards the ceiling.

“You, get out of my house. And let go of my son,” she demands fiercely, chills erupting across my whole body. Once again, she bursts into flames. Once her entire form is engulfed, the fire climbs towards the ceiling and disappears. The force that was holding Sam releases him, and he joins us in our place as we gaze at where Mary disappeared. We glance at each other, completely stunned.

“Now, it’s over.”

***

Act Five

***

The next morning, I stand pressed against Dean’s shoulder, looking at the old pictures in his hands with them. “Thanks for these,” he says to Jenny.

“Don’t thank me, they’re yours,” she replies. Dean moves to put the box of photos in the car. Jenny steps forward towards me. “Thank you, again.”

“Of course, Jenny. I’m just glad y’all are okay.”

“Yeah, me too. I don’t know what would have happened if it weren’t for you and your boyfriend.”

I chuckle, heat rising in my cheeks. “What? Dean? He’s not my boyfriend. He’s like my brother.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I meant Sam,” she admits awkwardly.

My face feels like it’s on fire now, and I glance over her shoulder to see where Sam is sitting with Missouri on the front steps. “What-he…um,” I chuckle embarrassingly again. “S-Sam, is like, ew no. No, not Sam. I-I don’t have a boyfriend,” I stutter awkwardly.

Jenny laughs at me, apologizing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. Thank you guys, anyway,” she says as Dean rounds the car again.

Dean saves me from this excruciating moment by hollering up at Sam. “Sam, you ready?” He nods at Missouri, and they make their way back to us. Jenny thanks us again as we get into the car, driving away.

***

“Y’all don’t be strangers,” Missouri hollers at us from her porch.

“We won’t!” I yell back from the open window. She waves warmly before entering her home. “So, y’all can drop me back at my motel,” I tell the boys. They look between themselves mischievously before turning back to me.

“Well, we actually had a proposition for you,” Sam starts.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dean continues. “We were wondering if you would want to join us on the road again. We worked pretty well together back there.”

“Plus, we missed you.”

“Yeah, like a lot. And, you smell nicer than Sam.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who uses, like, 14-in-1 shampoo, jerk.”

“It’s a multi-use product for a reason, and it takes up less room in my bag, you bitch.”

A smile breaks on my cheeks as I consider their proposal and watch their brotherly squabble unfold. It makes a giggle creep up in my throat, a warm familiarity filling my chest. They stop their bickering and look over their shoulders at me, noticing my silence. “Well?” Dean prods.

I squeal and lean across the seat to capture them both in a hug, unable to even come up with a witty remark. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Sam says, laughing at my enthusiasm.

“Of course, dummies!” I exclaim, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks. “I missed you guys so much, too.” They wipe off their cheeks, grinning and blushing themselves.

“Okay then. Where to?” Dean asks us.

“Somewhere to get a separate shampoo and conditioner for you,” I tease. Sam giggles, tossing me a wink, and Dean glares at me from the driver’s seat, flipping on the music and throwing the car into gear.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he teases.

***

Unbeknownst to any of us, Missouri had a guest in her home when we dropped her off. She had entered her home, and set her purse down on the table before speaking. “That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn’t sense his own father, I have no idea.” John Winchester sits solemnly on her couch, looking serious as ever.

“Mary’s spirit–do you really think she saved the boys?”

“I do.” John nods at her sadly, twisting his old wedding band around his finger. He still wears it all this time later. “John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won’t you go talk to your children?”

His eyes brim with tears and he replies honestly, “I want to. You have no idea how much I wanna see ‘em. But I can’t. Not yet. Not until I know the truth.”

***

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #slow burn #john winchester hate club #always an angel never a god

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maybege · 1 year ago

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May you have once again crippled me with your single dad!Boba/matchmade!Boba thoughts 😩🤤🥴

Your Boba AUs are my own true weakness 😮‍💨

Some thoughts for ✨thirst hour✨ to follow up your Thanksgiving with Boba:

You stare at Boba's number in your phone on and off for a week trying to decide whether or not to invite him to your cousin's Christmas party. It's a much more laid-back affair that she puts on for the younger members of the family to enjoy without the burden of sour aunties and drunk uncles

There's no pressure to be coupled up for the party but you find yourself wanting Boba at your side, wanting his arm around your waist and his voice in your ear. The heat of the kiss you shared at Thanksgiving still burns hot in your veins and you long for an excuse for his lips to be on your body again

Eventually you break and call him. You try not to read too much into the fact he remembered what your favorite Christmas cookies are or that he offered to bring them. Despite your feelings, you want to try and keep things professional between the two of you--just because you had fun together doesn't mean this isn't just a job for him

It doesn't help when Boba keeps tucked into his side entire night or that his green button up makes him look even more amazing than usual or that he's a surprisingly good dancer when the music comes on. He twirls you around like princess at a ball, leading you effortlessly through the music. He looks so happy and you're having such a great time that you don't notice that the pair of you are now swaying under the mistletoe

Boba does, however, smiling impishly and motioning up to it with his chin. Heat flashes through you, a thousand panicked thoughts jumbling your words. "O-oh, um, we don't have to, if you're not... I mean, um, if you don't want to..."

Boba chucks up your chin, his brown eyes sparkling and warm. "I want to, princess," he murmurs gently, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, "I've wanted to kiss you all night."

Ok I'm going to stop now before I make myself insane :))))

Okay okay okay, I love everything about this. It gives me holiday movie romcom vibes in the best way and I can see it so clearly. 🥺😭

Boba took ages to get ready and his kids tease him about how their usually so calm and collected dad asked them five times whether they were really sure that the dark green button down was the way to go ...

... and you spent a ridiculous amount of time sifting through your special occasion dresses to find The One that is not way too over the top but is also pretty (and maybe even sexy) enough to significantly heighten the chances of Boba touching you again.

Despite your nervousness, once you actually see each other, everything is just perfect. The entire night is a smooth ride full of whispered jokes, flirty banter, and - most importantly of all - Boba's hand on the low of your back as soon as you stand next to each other.

It gets even better when he asks you to dance with him, leading you through the steps to the low music and the twinkly lights shining above your heads. You both use the excuse to just gaze at each other (as part of you playing a couple, of course, and not because you are hopelessly in love with each other.)

And then the mistle toe? Be still my beating heart.

He is so proud of how brave you are to ask him so he makes sure to show you just how much he doesn't mind kissing you - how much he wants to kiss you. Maybe he intended it to be a short kiss at first, keeping in mind that this is still somewhat of a family gathering. But then you sigh and completely melt into him and before long, he has his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer and you both feel the fireworks between you.

You are so out of breath when you pull apart and maybe one of your cousins makes a joking remark about how you ought to "take a room, you two" and Boba leans down to your ear and whispers, "We might just do that."

it's thirst hours with may - come join us!

#may answers #thirst hour with may #matchmade!boba vibes #boba fett x reader

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 2 years ago

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Girl, im in the same boat as you. After the pandemic, things are finally starting to pick up pace for me and I began this year busier than ever. My twitter account was starting to collect dust and spiderwebs, and I said ok, perhaps this is it. It may be time for me to find a different hyper fixation or a new hobby. But these bitches saw me walking out the door and pulled me back in. See? Now this is why I got into kpop. It takes so little to make a woman's heart soften, and yet most days I had to sit through the most unhinged and boring drama ever. Listen, I just wanna be entertained, is that too much to ask?

Well, today it looks like my prayers have been answered. I woke up to some delicious baemin content. Loved that they showed us a little bit of the rehearsal, and have you seen how jimin talks to his hyung? I don't know how taeyang deals with the urge to pick him up and take him home. He's so strong and brave 🫡 then we finally got the live jimin has been promising since last year and i cant believe he keeps getting prettier and cuter every time i see him. How can a grown ass man be that cute and lovely? And he keeps talking about how much he's working and all the things he's preparing... honestly I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but really when it comes to jimin i cant help but get excited. And then, jk's weird ass back at it again! which i was especially glad for because I missed his live yesterday AND with the addition of jimin's comments?? he really got me feeling things ngl I was giggling and kicking my feet, I can't say I wouldn't pay them money just to see jimin tie jungkook's hair. I'm just a girl you know...

So yeah, just like that, I missed a good chunk of my morning looking for translations and staring at my phone like a dumbass. Maybe some other day i will find a more productive way to waste my time, but for now it looks like I'll stick around 😮‍💨

Girl!

We're having almost the same experience 👀

In my case, I don't need another hyper fixation or anything. I've had enough of such intensities since 2020, but as you said, mostly it's just witnessing mindless drama and the usual bullshit. And on top of that, in terms of the music and other content, what is there left for now? I've been through almost everything BTS. I'm not gonna write about the same thing until I get grey hair. Which means I'm left with paying attention to the solo projects. And since life's too short for me to spend time writing or watching what people do, especially if I don't care much about them, I'm left with the biases. Jungkook is on a break (those saying he's not getting work because the company doesn't offer him opportunities are simply demented) and the only one left is Jimin. And his solo work is starting to pick up and it's really the only relevant thing right now for me.

The problem is that it's become a habit. Keeping up to date through social media, which means that as much as I try to avoid it, I still have to see things and people against my own will and I'm too far into this thing and in my life in order to pretend that I still want to pay attention and write about it. I mean, lately I've made my position even clearer than it was before because it just doesn't matter at the end of the day. I'm in a speeding train caught on fire and at some point I will have to jump. Because I know what awaits me out there. Instead of reading and debating daily fandom bullshit, I can dedicate more of my time to watching films and pick up my dusty books from the library, knowing that there's no way I can be as disappointed as I feel after 2 hours in bts/fandom spaces. I need that dose in order to remind myself that there are things that bring me joy and I don't have to witness stupid people writing nonsense on twitter.

I also have fun here, with its ups and downs. But there's the risk of becoming repetitive and that's the death of passion. No thank you.

And then there's days like this in which it's fun again, starting with that performance rehearsal and ending it so nicely. I missed it. Like you said, I want to be entertained. That's all. And that includes everything, from frivolous aspects like watching JK eat chicken on a vlive, to a song release, a Fashion Week appearance or putting out a fascinating portfolio.

#bmt asks

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1d1195 · 6 months ago

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sam you are the sweetest person in the world actually, thank you so much🫶

STEAL MY GIRL MUSIC VIDEO IS SUCH A NICHE THING I FEEL LIKE ITS ALMOST AN INSIDE JOKE it’s sooooo funny every time i watch it i’m just laughing SO REAL WITH LOUIS AND THE CHIMP i remember watching it for the first time and seeing harry in the fucking trench coat and genuinely getting worried like “hmmm it’s too hot for that, hope he’s okay😕” BABHSHAHAHAHAHA zayn and the sumo wrestlers ALWAYS gets me

IM ACTUALLY LAUGHING SOOOO HARD AT THE "SAMANTHA -🎶" YOU GET ME😭😭 i think i read all dolcezza like the same week you posted the last part, and it’s a good thing i did cause ooooo girl….😮‍💨😮‍💨you woulda drove me crazy

I THINK I SAID THIS ONCE BUT IM NOT SURE AND IF I DID IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO BUTTTT THE SERIES THAT BROUGHT ME TO YOUR PAGE WAS ACTUALLY MADE TO BE🥹🥹🥹🥹 and i came from PART 1 !!!!! (ironic considering my aversion to waiting lol) i tuned in every week to read the new part and back then you were updating on sundays and i stg i would get soooo giddy (i was in SHAMBLESSS between chapters having to wait a week😭) and yea…after that series ive been stuck here like a leech LMAO

on the topic of waiting on chapters i started traditional like right after you’d posted the second to last chapter and O.M.G. AHAHAHAH ITS SO FUNNY LOOKING BACK BUT I WAS ACTUALLY GLUEDDD TO MY PHONE👀👀 WAITING FOR THE NEXT PART CAUSE THEY HAD GOT IN THAT FIGHT AND I WAS SOOO HOOKED and then i woke up one morning and it was out, guess how i spent my breakfast & coffee time😭

i’m just rambling at this point BUT YES !!! YOU NEED TO KNOW HOW APPRECIATED YOU ARE !!! i remember back then i wasn’t doing the best and lots of things were changing but i always looked forward to reading the newest chapter. i read in one of your recent asks about how you decide what you write based on engagement (which makes total sense) but you feel like you get a lot of non-interacting readers. this is true and it really sucks but i guess it’s the reality of posting on a website like this. however, i will gladly take the time to say what they won’t and AHHHH SAM YOURE AN AMAZING WRITER I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US YOU MATTER SOOOO MUCH MORE THAN YOU KNOW 💕💕💕💕💘💘💘💘💘💝💝💝💝💝💖💖💖💖💖💖💗💗💗💗💗💗

i cried while finished “Love & Other Words” 😪omg i didn’t see that coming but it was SOOOO. GOOD. like….i sat and stared at the book with a small smile after i finished it kind of good. i will DEF been rereading that I LOVE THEM😭😭 THAT SCENE WHERE HE SAID “I’ll take anything you give me. Is that pathetic?” I SCREAMED they’re so precious and i looooveddd the way it was written!!! i just sped through it and i love when books feel like that

it has also been storming here, like so bad the electricity went out a few weeks ago and if u go out when it’s sunny you will melt. not a fan of summer right now🙄 SO happy to hear you’re feeling more relaxed, hopefully that stays till at least the end of summer. pasta is yummy !! i like my pasta dishes w a lotttttaaaa cheese :)) ive been boring too, dw. just a lotta reading on my end cause i am notttt in the mood to talk to anyone lately, vry antisocial (i also started my period last night ??? maybe that why lmfao😭)

sorry for this behemoth of an ask, thank you for chatting HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY LOVE YOU <33333333

~🎶

I DREAM about Harry in that trench coat. A fashion icon. I love him so much in that (and everything). I totally forgot all about the sumo wrestler piece of it I was so focused on the chimp and Louis. Louis' smile in that is my FAVORITE thing in the world. It was SO pure.

hehehehehe well, I'm happy to report that Part II of Most will be up tomorrow afternoon. She's longer than I thought I could do but here we are. After writing it, I think Part 1 and Part 2 would be a good read. I don't think it will drive you crazy the way Dolcezza would have drove you crazy.

OMG. I apologize if you DID say it, but I feel like this is new information to me. I'm so so sorry if I forgot. BUT STILL. I haven't thought about Made to Be in a REALLY long time 😭 I loved it for so long after I finished writing it. It was a huge part of my life. You've been here for a while, that's so cute and nice to hear 💕 I'm so glad you liked it

You are so so sweet. I am so grateful for you compliments.

IS THAT PATHETIC made me want to SCREAM too. I love Elliot so goddamn much I could CRY. He is my ideal man. My new story is Love & Other Words coded for sure 🙈 I didn't mean for it to happen but then I think I told you I got it back from letting my sister borrow it and I couldn't stop rereading the whole "I'm pathetic part" like OMG I'm 😭😭 so distraught about it STILL. Everything about that book is perfect.

I am summer's least favorite fan. The heat makes me so sticky and gross feeling. Also, I don't look good in summer clothes (or I feel gross about myself, whatever) ANYWAY. I love a good antisocial mood tbh. I feel so obligated to be on and around everyone all the time. And what's worse is I let myself be available. I JUST started getting better at not checking my work email outside of work hours. My sister and mom need me LITERALLY all the time. My bf and I are home at the same time so I just never get a MINUTE to myself. I have to like hide in my own apartment to get any alone time. So yeah. I can't get my brain to shut off lately to read but I've been doing some hard work on the writing here so I'm hoping that will help--also been doing a GREAT job binging TV. I think I just want to keep reading romance stuff and not all the like "interesting" books I've bought and haven't read 😭 It's the only way I'm going to get through this bookshelf of mine 😂

I love the chatting and the long asks so no need to apologize or thank me. I hope you have a fantastic Monday! LOVE YOU SO MUCH 💕

xoxo

#🎶

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 2 years ago

Note

I feel so desperate replying to you so quick 😅 but I can’t help it, when I see the notification I click and I was already reading something of yours anyway lol

But you sound like the perfect partner in bed 😮‍💨 I do hope you like being touched in return though. I hate to leave my partners dripping. I can only imagine how great it would be. But I can also just see you being the most loving partner outside of all the sexual stuff.

What are your favorite types of dates to go on?

-😅

I wouldn't call it desperate... Maybe excited?

Awww ^^ you're very sweet to say so 💜

Of course I like being touched. I'm a very touchy person and I really just love physical expressions of affection. It melts me every time.

Hmm... my first dates are often restaurants. I love good food and the right setting for a good conversation.

If I know the person more I'd go to different events as well. Fairs, festivals, concerts... I'd go and watch the stars or a celestial event. I like movie dates, theaters, stand up comedy shows... I love to host parties at home. I love to have a home-cooked meal and a candle-lit dinner 💜 Bookstore dates are so fun! If I can pick, I would always choose a more personal, intimate setting for a date, because I like to give my partner my undivided attention and if I see them stare at their phone too much, it's unlikely that I'll invite them again.

I think that gives a pretty good idea about what I like.

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tiredbuthappy · 3 years ago

Text

Dress, Toto x Reader Pt. 2

Hello! It's finally here! Don't Blame Me part 2! This part is based on Taylor Swift's song 'Dress' which you can listen to here.

WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, cockwarming, light spanking, sub!Toto??

Words: 6,069 (ayyeee)

A/N: I'm sorry this part took so long, but I got a little carried away. Thank you as always, my Toto muse, @haterpenny. Love that we're in this together. I hope you all enjoy and I would really love some feedback! Also a BIG thank you to Mercedes for posting this pic. 😮‍💨 Reblogs and messages are gold to me!

It had been a few weeks since your late-night escapade with Mr. Wolff in his office and due to unforeseen circumstances you hasn’t been able to see each other again yet. Part of you had assumed it was over; that he had slipped that one time and you’d never know the pleasure of his embrace again. You thought perhaps you were his newest plaything, something to use as he wished and hideaway in the light of day or until he grew bored; a situation that you had decided to be okay with.

When he called you the first time you felt like your stomach was in your throat, but you forced yourself to answer. You were not expecting it, to say the least, and you had no idea what to say to him. Who the hell calls nowadays? You paused your murder documentary and forced your shaky hand to swipe and answer the call.

“Mr. Wolff?” You asked, confusion clear in your voice.

“Hi, Schatzi. I’ve been thinking of you.” He began, your heart fluttering at his words. His voice was soft and tender, and you were taken aback by the sweet intimacy in the way he spoke.

“I’ve been thinking of you, too.” You admitted, feeling much like a teen girl smitten with the captain of the football team.

“Would you like to go to dinner?” You were thoroughly shocked. Usually, your interactions with Toto consisted of stolen glances and lingering casual touches that left you desperate for more. Since your first ‘meeting’ you’d shared a few explicit messages, but hadn’t had the opportunity to spend more time alone together- you figured the connection would simply fizzle out with time. But dinner- that sounded like a date.

“Dinner would be nice.” You said coolly, determined not to sound too eager.

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in town. I look forward to seeing you.” You reciprocated and then he hung up. You sat there frozen and silent for a few minutes trying to decide whether or not that had just happened. Dinner with your boss? And not just your boss, but Toto Wolff.

Toto had been off for a doubleheader and you spent all of your time focusing on your work. However, the promise of your dinner date hung in the back of your mind all the time and you hated having to wait for it. But if any man was worth waiting for, it was this one.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at his empty office when you felt your phone vibrate against your hip. Every time your phone dinged and his name flashed across the screen you felt butterflies creep across your chest.

“Tomorrow night, 8?” His text read, a blush rising to your cheeks.

“I’ll see you then.” You replied and sent him your address as he insisted on picking you up. You felt like you were going to burst and you wanted to tell everyone. You refrained, knowing that if anything was going to happen between the two of you it was going to have to be a secret.

After work, you decided to go shopping and find a dress that you deemed worthy for such an occasion. Although you had no idea where you were going, Toto didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would take you somewhere casual. He always oozed money and sex appeal, and maybe for one evening, you could too. After a few stores, you found a fitted black velvet dress with an open back. It felt like just the right mix of classy and sexy and you couldn’t help but feel a little extra confidence when you tried it on. You’d certainly take all the confidence you could get.

Precisely at 8 pm, there was a knock on your door. You checked your reflection quickly and nodded reassuringly to yourself in the mirror before pulling the door open. Toto stood before you with an almost nervous smile before extending a bouquet of flowers towards you. He had chosen peonies and the softness of the gesture made you smile. He dressed rather similarly to his office attire, slacks, and a white dress shirt along with a blazer for good measure. Still, the dress shirt was unbuttoned, his collar opened just low enough to make your mind wander.

“They’re beautiful, Toto.” You told him, gladly accepting them and taking a smell of the fragrant petals.

“I thought you would like them.” He said, looking quite proud of himself. You excused yourself for a moment to go drop them into a vase, feeling like you were floating the whole way. You were glad he hadn’t asked to come inside as your place was certainly not tidy enough to make the kind of impression you would have liked. Not to mention you had some Red Bull merchandise that stuck out in your sea of Mercedes memorabilia and that you did not feel like explaining.

When you returned to the door he was there waiting patiently and you almost had to pinch yourself at the sight. He put his hand on the small of your back and began to guide you towards his car- a steel blue Mercedes Pagoda 280SL. He opened your door for you before circling to the other side of the car and hopping into the driver’s seat.

“You look beautiful,” His voice- and the compliment- startled you slightly, and when you turned to him his eyes were still trained on the road.

“Thank you, sir.” You replied before mentally kicking yourself. He wasn’t your boss right now. Or maybe he was? You weren’t totally sure. He chuckled slightly and placed his hand lightly on your knee.

“You can call me Toto, you know. Although I don’t mind sir.” He said cheekily, glancing at you just long enough to shoot you a grin. Your body felt numb just from the casual contact. It had been too long since you’d seen him- since you’d been close to him. You tensed slightly and he seemed to notice.

“So, where are we going for dinner?” You asked, trying to change the subject and regain some sort of composure. He retreated his hand and settled it back on the steering wheel and you wondered if you had already made a mistake.

“Oh, I was going to make us dinner. I hope you don’t mind.” Oh fuck. Was he taking you back to his house? That was a scenario you had not considered. You tried to act unphased, but he seemed more perceptive than most of the other men you were accustomed to.

“Or we can go out. I just thought it may be easier if we kept things… Quiet.” He told you after a moment, seeming to sense your hesitation. He snuck another peek at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Of course, it made sense to keep things quiet- after all, he was a multimillionaire and the Team Principal of the most successful Formula One team of all time- he didn’t need to have anyone taking an interest in his romantic life- especially when he was dating an employee. You had also worked too hard for too long to have people assume you had gotten your job due to anything other than your abilities.

“No, no. That sounds wonderful, Toto.” You agreed, flashing him a smile that you hoped would put his nerves at ease. You were flattered that he seemed to be nervous and you reached over and rested your hand above his knee. A small smile crept to his lips and he seemed to relax slightly. You tried to relax as he drove through the darkness, taking a moment to truly drink in your surroundings. You watched as he shifted gears, his jaw clenching slightly in concentration. All you wanted to do was crawl into his lap, but you did your best to keep yourself together.

You’d been with younger, flashier, more extravagant men before, but none of them had captured your mind and body as Toto had. He was elegant and sophisticated and had an aura of authority that made you desperate to please him.

You passed the twenty-minute drive with questions about his travels and the races from the last two weekends (which Bottas and Hamilton won respectively). You could hear the passion as he spoke and noticed the way his grip tightened around the steering wheel. He asked you a few questions about how you joined the team and how you got into motorsports.

Before you had the opportunity to bring up your romp in his office, you were pulling up to a rather modern-looking home, tucked away behind a long driveway that had undoubtedly seen many expensive cars (and people) come and go.

He trotted to your side of the car and opened your door, a gentlemanly hand appearing to help you steady yourself as you stepped out. His house was impressive, but not overly flashy- it felt fitting for him. He moved gracefully up the few steps to his front door and opened the lock with ease, glancing back to check on your progress. He invited you in with a simple gesture and you thought about how oddly intimate the moment was. Of all of the things you thought may happen tonight- you didn’t think you’d end up in his home.

Unsurprisingly, his home was much like his office. It was clean and sleek, and in some places a bit bare. Still, it was the best-looking bachelor pad you had ever seen.

You wandered through the door and into the living room, looking around at wonderful momentos that he had collected through his career. He watched you explore for a minute before finally interrupting.

“I hope you like pasta,” He said somewhat awkwardly, flashing you a smile.

“Of course, who doesn’t?” You chuckled, following his lead towards the kitchen. It was large and dark- very masculine, with black stone countertops and white accents throughout.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” You nodded your agreement and tried to fully take in your surroundings. Toto Wolff was about to make you dinner. A month ago you would never have believed this. He slid a glass of red across the counter to you before slipping his blazer off and tossing it carelessly over the stool beside you.

You watched in appreciation as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows before grabbing some ingredients out of his refrigerator.

He asked about your aspirations and watched you with whiskey-colored eyes, glancing up at you as he listened intently. You told him about where your passion for F1 began, where you went to school, working with the junior teams and how you finally got your position in the big leagues. He seemed genuinely interested and laughed at all the right times. Still, you mostly just stared at him and the way he moved, the efficiency in his large hands, and the way his arms flexed as he sliced and diced.

Before long he was carrying the finished dishes over to his dining room table and you were following with wine in hand. He had made a creamy tomato pasta that smelled incredible and tasted just as good.

“I must admit, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since our first… Encounter.” He said, giving you a slightly bashful grin. You felt a blush creep to your cheeks at the thought. This was only really your second time being with Toto, and so far this interaction was far more respectable than the first. Your romp in his office was… incredible but unexpected. You assumed it would be a one-time thing, something that would be swept under the rug, leaving you to look longingly in his direction for the rest of your time at Mercedes. But now you were sharing a meal in his home and everything felt real.

Once you had finished eating he rose to clear the table and you mentally scolded yourself for not doing it first. Something about him distracted you so thoroughly you had forgotten your manners. Still, something told you he likely wouldn’t have let you clean up, anyway.

“So, Mr. Wolff,” You began, a flirtatious tone to your voice as you spoke. He glanced up from his dishes and gestured for you to continue with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Fancy showing me the rest of this place?” You questioned, hoping to catch a glimpse at more of his private life. An amused grin fell over his lips.

“I would be happy to show you the rest. Though I’m afraid there’s not much to see.” Toto agreed, drying his hands on a small dish towel. You hated how modest he was being. If he thought his place was ‘not much to see’ he’d be sorely disappointed in your most humble flat. He met you back at his dining room table and outstretched a hand for you, which you gladly took. He guided you through the house, stopping first in the living room. His style was basically exactly what you had expected. Clean, modern, and very sleek. The house almost looked unlived in, it was so immaculate- you suddenly weren’t surprised why you had seen him at the office at 11 at night. He obviously spent far more time there or in hotel rooms than he did at his home.

Soon you were passing the threshold of his bedroom and you felt your cheeks flush lightly at the sight of his made bed. He stood only a step or so behind you, a sort of sheepish grin pulling at his lips when you glanced back at him.

“And this is the bedroom, of course. A bathroom through there, too.” You turned your head in the direction he was pointing in and continued on towards it. You imagined that any bathtub big enough to fit Toto Wolff was one you wanted to see. And sure enough, there was a huge, free-standing bathtub that sloped in the most inviting way possible. Immediately, you wanted nothing more than to climb into it.

“And the bathroom.” He said again, as though you needed the clarification. You could feel a bit of tension in the air, as though he wasn’t sure what to say next. You turned to face him and caught his eyes with your own. Something about being in his home, having his attention solely on you made you feel confident. You snaked your hand up to the zipper on the back of your dress. You slowly pulled it down, keeping a straight face as Toto’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise or question. He didn’t interrupt, just watched your movements with interest. A moment later you were stepping out of the dress exposing your bare breasts, leaving you in just your black skimpy panties and strappy heels. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as you turned on your heel and headed towards that gorgeous tub. You leaned over and turned the water on, sure to flash a generous view of your ass.

As the water ran you stalked your way back to Toto, eager to get him out of his clothes. You reached up and undid his first button, then his second, and so on. He stayed very still and made no effort to resist or to assist you. He seemed to enjoy watching you work. Finally, you pushed the button down off his shoulders and let it fall carelessly to the floor. As you reached for his belt, his hand caught your wrist.

“Would you like some wine?” He finally spoke, his voice deep with lust.

“That would be perfect.” You agreed. His gaze felt so heavy and delicious on you, you felt like you could cut the tension with a knife. In his absence, you wandered back to the tub and adjusted the temperate before finally plugging it. In a moment he was back, a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other.

“Take your panties off,” He spoke as he poured the wine, his gaze not even in your direction. You did as you were told, a little shiver running over you from hearing the word ‘panties’ leave Toto’s mouth.

After pouring both glasses he turned to face you, his naked bicep moving just slightly as he handed you your glass. With a coy smile, you rose it to your lips and drank, letting the richness of its flavor roll over your tongue.

“I think you’re wearing too much.” You took the glass from his hand and rested both of them beside the tub. Drinking wine in a bathtub with Toto Wolff? What the hell did you do in a past life to deserve this? His eyes stayed glued to you as you moved back towards him and he made no protest as you reached for his belt. Again, he watched in silence, a small smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. You lightly ran your finger over the exposed skin right over the waist of his pants, tickling along the curve of his hips, making him suck air through his teeth.

“Nobody likes a tease, Schatzi.” His voice rumbled and his brow raised as though he were scolding a child.

You weren’t sure if it was his tone or your eagerness to see him naked that made you pick up the pace. You pulled the belt through the loops and tossed it before undoing the button and zipper on his slacks. Then you were easing them down his long, muscular legs, your stomach doing somersaults as more and more of him was exposed to you. You involuntarily bit your lip at the sight of his half-hard cock and thought about getting on your knees then and there, but pulled away when you remembered the running water behind you.

You turned the water off and looked back to Toto, waiting there for you in his black boxer briefs, prettier than a picture.

“Take your panties off.” You instructed, much like he had done, trying to match the authority he had in his tone. That put a smile on his face. He obliged, bending at the waist and pushing the offending garment down his long legs before adding them to the pile of discarded clothes.

“Very good.” You praised, and you swore a light blush settled over his cheeks, if only for a second. You outstretched your palm, gesturing for him to come to you and again, he did as you wished. He towered above you and held your hand steady as you stepped into the steaming bathwater, his eyes subtly making their way over your exposed form. He stepped in next and the two of you sank down into the heat, sending it sloshing along the sides of the big marble oasis. His big hands guided you between his legs, your head leaning back to rest on his chest. The water made it hard to decipher the difference between Toto’s skin and your own. You could feel the slight weight of his head resting on yours, his lips occasionally pressing the lightest of touches against the top of your head.

“I can’t believe I’m here.” You said dreamily, almost to yourself. You felt his chest rise and fall with a slight chuckle. He ran his hands up and down your arms, sending a new wave of warmth flowing through you.

“You know, when I saw you in my office that night, I thought I was dreaming.” He confessed, his hand roaming beneath the water’s surface and along your curves.

“I thought I was going to die. Or get fired.” You said as though those things were of equal consequence. His damp hand brushed your hair aside, sending warm droplets of water trickling down your neck and shoulders.

“What were you doing in there anyway?” Toto asked, a bit of amusement clear in his tone.

“I just… I wanted to get to know you. I couldn’t help myself.” Your response was honest, but something about it made you embarrassed. You reached for your nearly forgotten drink, Toto following suit. He thought for a moment before responding. You could feel a buzz pleasantly humming through your limbs, making you feel more daring with each passing second.

“I’d seen you looking at me before,” Toto said, setting his glass back down and putting his hand back against your waist.

“Oh, really? I thought I had been discrete.” You said, only half sarcastically.

“Well, I noticed you on your very first day. Then I saw your work, and I was impressed. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you, but what could I do about it?” He said, explaining what you already knew. He didn’t want to take advantage of his position.

“And then seeing you at my desk… I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I’m only a man, after all.” You melted into him even more, his fingers tracing over your skin absently as he spoke.

“I thought maybe I’d been too rough with you.” He added quietly.

“God, I’ve thought about you fucking me over that desk hundreds of times.” You sighed, your hand sneaking behind you and up to the base of his neck, carding your fingers through his short hair.

“And I can’t wait to do it again.” He growled lowly, biting at the spot where your shoulder met your neck, pulling a high sigh from you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you held tightly against him, one of his hands brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Any time, boss.” You grinned, pulling his lips back onto yours for another passionate kiss.

Every moment that you spent beside Toto made you feel fluttery and light as air, like a giggly teenager. He was so big and toned, strong and something about him made you feel safe. You never expected to have any feelings for him beyond lust, but the more you were beside him the more you felt like you could develop real, deep feelings for him. And that made you terrified.

Before too long the water was getting a bit chilly and you were stifling a yawn. You had no idea what time it was, but it had to be nearing midnight.

“Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” Part of you wanted to argue, but you knew all good things must come to an end. You stood languidly, rolling your hips a bit as you stretched. You stepped carefully out of the tub and grabbed a neatly folded towel nearby. Then you watched as Toto slowly stood sending water droplets cascading down his body making him look somehow even more delectable than usual. Somehow, you got it together enough to hand him a towel which he gladly accepted, his hand brushing lightly against yours in the process.

He ran the towel once over his body, then secured it tightly around his waist before turning his attention to you. He pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you, doing his best to stop the shivers running down your spine. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he ran his hands over your towel and you leaned into his touch.

“Would you like to go to bed?” He asked, his voice low. You didn’t know if he meant to go to bed or go to bed, but either way, your answer was yes.

“I’d love that.” You agreed, nodding absently as you let your towel fall to the floor. Then in one smooth motion, he was sweeping you up, cradling you, and carrying you to his bed, a big giggle bubbling up in your chest in surprise. He lifted you with such ease, you couldn’t believe how small and protected you felt in his grasp. Then he was plopping down beside you, a lazy smile falling over his lips. You snuggled up under the covers with Toto following suit, throwing his towel aside. You maneuvered yourself against him, glancing up to catch his eyes.

“I’m very glad you came.” He said, his fingers tracing over your hip in little patterns.

“Me too. This is the best date I’ve ever had.” You confessed.

“So this is a date?” He questioned, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, this is a date.” You said decisively, placing your hand on top of his. He seemed pleased with your response, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this,” Toto said.

“Neither was I. I just feel very comfortable with you.” You said, thinking about how this was only your second time being close to him but it felt like you had been doing this for forever.

“I’m not used to this. I don’t usually date. I haven’t always made it a priority.” He told you a little hesitantly, as though you couldn’t have figured that out yourself.

“Yeah, I understand. You’re very dedicated to your work. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.” He raised his brows at that, a smirk rising to his lips.

“And how about the other things you admire?” You couldn’t believe the smugness in his voice.

“Well, I admire your bathtub, for sure.” You said with a chuckle, reaching out a finger to run down his chest.

“Mm, I noticed.” He said, pulling you into another kiss. You couldn’t help but push yourself closer to him, your leg nudging between his. You still had a decent buzz going, and your chest felt warm and fluttery. Toto snuck an arm under you, pressing another peck to your temple and then casually carding his fingers through your hair. You pressed a few kisses to his chest before the laziness won out. Your eyelids were so heavy but you did your best to keep them open. He seemed to notice, a soft laugh leaving his dimpled cheeks.

“Sleep, Schatzi.” You couldn’t tell if he was giving you permission or instructing you to do so, but you didn’t care. You were so happy to be exactly where you were, folded up in his strong arms.

You felt the fluttering in your stomach before you opened your eyes. A familiar tingle built with every passing second, pulling your foggy mind out of the depths of sleep. Suddenly your mind caught up with your body and your eyes snapped open. Toto’s hot breath was fanning over your folds, his tongue hungrily lapping at your clit. You tossed the sheet aside just in time to see his eyes meet your own, a devilish smirk tugging at the edges of his cheeks.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, his voice almost a growl. You tried to think of something clever to say, but the way his lips and tongue were working left you speechless, a simple moan falling from you instead. Toto’s hair was messy from sleep and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching down and carding your fingers through it, giving him just the slightest of tugs. You could feel him chuckle lightly against you, and you wondered for a moment if perhaps you had died and this was heaven. His arms wrapped fully around your hips and pulled you down the bed just a little, making it so there was no way you could wiggle out of his grasp. Toto seemed to know exactly where to lick and suck and exactly how hard to do so and the obscene sounds of your desperate, soft sighs and wet thighs filled the room. You couldn’t help but wonder how much practice it had taken for him to perfect the delicate swirl of his tongue or the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers into you.

“You’re so wet for me, little one.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. The sound of his voice, the term of endearment- it was too much paired with his sweet ministrations. You clasped your hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds that were threatening to leave you. Toto noticed and reached up, pulling your hand towards him and interlocking your fingers.

“No, no. Let me hear you.” He said in the most strained, delicious voice you had heard yet. You decided the man knew what he wanted and you’d give it to him.

You moaned his name and it seemed to spur him on, his thumb moving to rub circles around your clit, the pressure the exact amount to make your legs begin to quiver.

“Are you going to be a good girl? Are you going to cum for me?” He asked in an almost teasing tone, as though he didn’t know you were hanging on by a thread. With a few more skilled strokes you were falling over your peak, your body quaking softly with the exertion while he maintained his pace, working you through your high, milking each of your spasms with his fingers. It felt like hundreds of little bolts of electricity reverberating through your body, every inch of you singing his praises. When he finally moved away from your trembling core you felt like you may die at the sight of his slick chin and the coy smile he flashed your way. If you felt like you had any bones, you would have jumped him. Instead, you helplessly watched him crawl up to you, your eyes desperately trying to etch the image of a naked, fully erect Toto Wolff into your brain.

“Breakfast in bed.” He said smugly, his voice rife with satisfaction as he plopped down beside you, seemingly allowing you a moment to catch your breath.

“My God,” You mustered, wondering how on Earth you were going to keep a straight face when you saw him in the office.

You reached your hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, desperate to have more of him- all of him. You pushed his shoulder towards the bed, easing him onto his back before tossing your thigh over him and climbing on top. You had only fantasized about this like, a million times. And still, the way he held your gaze, the way his hands steadied your hips as you slipped him into you- you weren’t prepared for just how good he would look. His face contorted in pleasure, eyes screwed shut in focus as you began to rock your hips, his hands guiding you only as deep and fast as he could handle- he wanted this to last. Still, you wanted to have your fun- so you fought a little, bucking harder, going deeper just to pull a couple of frustrated groans from him. His response was a swift smack to your ass- a warning.

You leaned down to his neck and left wet, hot kisses on every inch of him you could reach.

“You’re asking for trouble.” He told you, his restraint audible.

“Maybe I want trouble,” You said hotly, continuing your little act of rebellion. He grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading at the skin harshly, his other hand still holding tight to your hip. You tossed your head back at the overwhelming sensation of being so full of him and used both of your much smaller hands to pin his wrists just above his head. That he actually chuckled at. You both knew that if he wanted he’d have you on your back in a second, but he decided to let you indulge. Seeing Toto spread out and dominated by you, gasping with each of your movements, little praises falling from his lips- drove you crazy. You pressed another kiss to his lips, fighting with him for control. Finally, he broke free of your grasp, one of his hands cupping your breast while the other smacked your ass again, eliciting a small yelp from you.

“I’m going to cum,” He told you, his eyes settling on yours. You decided to pretend that was him asking for permission.

“Well then, cum.” You told him, your second orgasm threatening to take you at any moment. He let out a choked groan, trembling slightly as his cock filled you up. You continued chasing your high, rolling your hips with abandon until you felt yourself falling over the edge.

“That’s it, take what you want from me. It’s yours.” He told you, reaching up and brushing your hair behind your ear. His words, his affectionate touch- it had you moaning his name as you rode out your high, his dick still buried deep inside of you.

Then you were boneless again, curled up on his chest, his arms securing you there.

“Good morning,” You said through a smile, lazily pressing a kiss to his jaw. The two of you laid there for at least an hour, still attached, talking and laughing and enjoying the intimacy of the moment.

When you finally broke apart he insisted on making you something to eat before driving you home, and you made plans for your next date. You felt like you were floating- it was hard to imagine things being more perfect between the two of you.

Working with Toto proved to be a little more challenging than you had thought. Whenever he passed you in the hall your stomach did somersaults. Or, when you had some new data for him, his hand lingered on your arm for just a moment too long while he listened. It was getting harder and harder to keep your feelings for one another a secret. Toto had told you that every decision about the privacy of your relationship was solely up to you. He knew how hard you had worked to gain your position, and he didn’t want to jeopardize your reputation or make you uncomfortable. Still, that didn’t stop him from making any possible excuse to see you.

Your phone lit up with a text from him.

“My office. Five minutes.” Who were you to argue? As inconspicuously as possible you pushed away from your desk and began to make your way to his office. Yet, it seemed nearly impossible to hide the smile spread across your face. After a soft rap on his door, his big hand was grabbing yours and pulling you inside.

He was kissing you before you had the chance to speak, a little giggle bubbling up in your chest.

“Do you know how hard it is to concentrate when I know you’re right out there?” He said lowly before beginning another barrage of kisses.

“Mr. Wolff, please. Pull yourself together.” You instructed teasingly, causing him to chuckle, reaching up to ruffle your fingers lightly through his hair.

“So I’ve been thinking, Abu Dhabi is in a week. I want you to come with me, it’s the last race of the season. If you’d like we can get separate rooms- I just want you to be there.” He gently took your hand in his.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, the sincerity in his eyes taking you back for a moment.

“Of course, Schatzi. I want you there with me.” How were you supposed to refuse an offer like that? If you didn’t know better you’d swear he was looking at you lovingly.

“Okay. Yes, of course, I’ll be there.” You agreed, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet him for a kiss.

Suddenly the door was flying open.

“Hey, Toto, I was thinking-” It was Lewis Hamilton, standing in his doorway, his sentence long forgotten in surprise. You didn’t “know” Lewis per se, but he had definitely seen you around. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks and Toto quickly took a step back and tried to regain some sort of professionalism.

“Brilliant work on that- that,” Bless him, Toto stuttered, trying to come up with a cover story, but it wasn’t even a little believable. Lewis just shook his head and rolled his eyes, though he looked more amused than anything else.

“It’s about time you found someone,” Lewis said before pausing to introduce himself to you, as though you didn’t know who he was. His eyes twinkled back at yours and you felt a little starstruck to have his focus only on you.

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Hamilton. I should be going.” You said, and he batted your formality away with a wave of his hand.

You sauntered back to your desk in awe of what had just happened. Someone knew about your relationship- and not just anyone. That meant that whatever it was that you and Toto shared, it was no longer deniable.

And yet you were smiling, the promise of Abu Dhabi at the very front of your mind. You just knew that weekend was going to be absolutely perfect.

Tags: @intotowetrust @formulakay @wetforwolff @formulakink

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