#sorry I really can't be like “FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS”
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The Thanksgiving Departure {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14.7k
Warnings: Vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, family issues, heartbreak, alcohol, Dieter being a dick, revelations of infidelity, dishonesty, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of breeding kinks, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex
Comments: Married to Dieter Bravo, Thanksgiving turns into the worst day of the year when he abandons you to go to Hollywood for his big break. Never divorcing you and deciding to stroll back into your life on Thanksgiving again years later
Happy Thanksgiving!
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Dieter sighs as he stares at his script. Another community theater project that he took when he got rejected from his latest audition for Law & Order. He rubs his forehead as the words blur together and he doesn't know how much longer he can do this. He wants to be successful. He wants to be famous...and rich. He can't do that in the middle of fucking nowhere. His hometown is picture perfect. Pumpkin patches in the fall, Christmas parade during December, flower show during spring. Town festivals and even a fucking gazebo in the town square. It's like a movie set but it's not the movie set he wants to be on. His entire life he's dreamed of Hollywood. His dad, before he died when Dieter was ten, showed him the greats. John Wayne. Cary Grant, Marlon Brando. He wants to be like them. A leading man. But he can't do that without going to L.A. "Hey baby." You coo as you walk into the kitchen, frowning when you see his script, "you want me to run lines?" You offer, leaning over to grab the papers, and he growls, shoving the papers across the table.
"No. No. I don't want to run fucking lines." His tone makes your eyebrows raise and you back away until he reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I'm sorry. Shit. I- I didn't get the part. The Law & Order part." He admits, feeling sorry for himself.
“Oh baby.” You soften slightly, knowing how much Dieter hates rejection. He wants so badly to be famous and you support him, but it’s honestly not realistic for where you live. Still, you encourage him to pursue his dreams. “They are missing out.” You step closer and wrap your arms around him to give him a hug from behind. “You are the best actor and would have made the show the highest rated episode of the season.”
Dieter huffs, shaking his head, "I love you, but don't flatter me now. I just - I want to give you the damn world and I can't do that stuck here. I know your mom is sick but baby, I want to go to L.A. I can do this. I know I can. I know I can make it." He whines, shaking his head and he turns his head to press his head against yours.
You sigh softly, knowing this is a conversation that has been going on for months. “I can’t- baby- mom needs us here right now.” You’ve been taking care of your mom for months, you and Dieter moving in and providing in-home care so she didn’t have to go into a care home. “When she’s better, we can look at moving out there.” You promise again. One thing that you love about Dieter is his persistence, but he’s also impatient. He doesn’t really want to wait, every day could possibly be his big break in his mind. “Besides, you don’t want to plan a move around the holidays.” You remind him. “Thanksgiving is in two days.”
Dieter doesn't respond, knowing that his dream is slipping away. Your mom doesn't seem to be getting better and you are young but everyone is asking when you're going to have kids. You just got married six months ago. He's not ready to have kids and all it takes is one slip up on your birth control and he's stuck in this two bit town. He pats your hand, "yeah. Yeah, of course. Let's focus on the holidays." He says but his tone doesn't match the smile he offers you.
You know he’s disappointed that you aren’t immediately jumping to pack your bags, but he will have to understand. “I’m baking your favorite pie.” You hum teasingly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Right after mom’s appointment tomorrow and your mother has already said that she’s bringing the turkey.”
Dieter eyes the script and he wonders about the tape he sent off last week for the role in a new TV show about a detective. He took a chance and auditioned for the lead. It’s a pilot, but could be picked up and he doubts he will get the part. He taps his fingers against the table and turns his head to press his lips to yours. He loves you, he really does, but he feels trapped. “Come here.” He demands, wrapping his arm around you and dragging you into his lap. “Fucking love your pie.” He smiles and presses his lips to yours.
Melting into Dieter easily, you kiss him back, straddling him. Your mother is upstairs resting after a particularly rough day and she will be asleep for a few hours. “I love you.” You coo, grinding down on him with a smirk when he groans. “You want to have sex?” Dieter finds it sexy when you just bluntly ask, so you have taken to doing just that.
Dieter groans, sliding his hand down to squeeze your ass, “yes. Fuck yes.” He smacks your ass and kisses your jaw. “Here or you wanna go to our room?” He asks against our skin, wanting you to decide but he’s already hardening beneath you.
“Here.” Spontaneity has been a little lacking lately with your mother requiring a lot of your time and you know that Dieter will enjoy it. “You can think about it when we are eating dinner here with the family.” You tease.
“You’re too fucking good to me. Think about your pussy while eating your pie.” He teases as he slides his hand under your shirt, “get your damn jeans off.” He demands as he pulls your shirt over your head.
You bite your lip as you stand up, pushing away from him so you can get undressed. “Strip down baby.” You beg, wanting to see him. Dieter has an amazing body, lean and naturally athletic, every time you see him you get wet.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, and he stands up to strip his jeans. He never wears underwear so he kicks them aside and sits back down to watch you strip while he wraps his fingers around his cock, pumping himself. “You’re so sexy.” He murmurs, dark eyes watching you with lust. You’re still in your honeymoon stage after six months of marriage and Dieter is always ready to fuck his wife.
“Me?” You snort and shoot him a playful wink. “I’m the one with a hot, actor husband.” You remind him, reaching up and cupping your tits. “You want to fuck me? Or you want me to ride that pretty cock of yours?”
He scoffs at your comment about him being an actor. He wishes. He’s a community theater actor at best. He reaches for you to drag you into his lap, “come here and ride my cock, my beautiful wife.” He demands, groaning when you straddle him and he bends down to take your nipple into his mouth after he cups your tit.
Passion is something Dieter has in spades. He never fails to make you fall deeper in love with him. It’s not like you haven’t been together since you were almost too young for love, but it just keeps growing. “Dee.” You moan, fingers sinking into his short hair. “You should grow your hair out so I can pull it.”
"Can't." He murmurs against your sternum, his face buried between your tits. "I need it short for the show." He presses a kiss to your skin before he lathes his attention on your other breast. His free hand squeezes your ass, "fuck, you're so gorgeous. Wanna eat you out later." He declares after he bites down on your nipple.
You hum, knowing that he can’t grow it out right now, but you would love it. “God, Dee.” You whimper happily, letting him do what he wants while you grind down on his hard cock and roll your hips. You are wet and getting wetter, but he will still stretch you out.
He doesn't want to hurt you if you aren't wet enough so he slides his hand down to cup your cunt, his fingers easily finding your clit to rub slow circles on it.
You moan his name again, loving how he is patient with you. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a big cock and he knows it. He’s proud of that fact, even if neither one of you has slept with too many people. “God baby, you touch me so perfectly.” You praise breathlessly. “My husband.”
He kisses up your chest until he's pressing his lips to yours while he continues to rub your bundle of nerves. "My sexy, beautiful, smart as fuck wife." He murmurs against your chin and he is throbbing with need for you. "You ready for me?" He asks, his tone a little whiny as he aches for you.
“Yessss.” You hiss, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock. “I want to ride you, baby.” You pant, lifting your hips as he pulls his hand away and you position him at your entrance.
Dieter hisses as you start to sink down onto him. You’re so fucking perfect and he has always thought it. Ever since you were kids. You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the room. His hands are everywhere, sliding along your body until he squeezes your ass, letting you adjust while you take him inside your tight cunt.
Dieter always feels amazing, you moan his name as you squeeze him with your muscles. “Fuck I love you.” You pant, kissing along his neck when he turns his head. “You’re my forever baby.”
He groans, helping you rock on top of him, “fucking love you too. So much.” He murmurs, squeezing your ass and his hands slide up your back to pull you even closer as you move on top of him. You’re on your tiptoes as you lift up and slowly sink back down onto his cock. No one has ever made him feel like this, like he is home, but it’s still in the back of his mind to want more from his career.
You don’t know what is rolling through Dieter’s mind as you ride him. All you know is that he feels incredible and you love the way he moans. The way he kisses you. He’s always been a passionate person but he truly makes you feel cherished when he’s touching you, praising you. “I love you. I love how you feel inside me.” You moan, grinding down on him.
Your moan makes him twitch inside you and he watches you as you ride him, taking what you want from him. “Love you too, baby. Tell me - tell me how much you love me.” He whines slightly, needing reassurance from you. He can be insecure and considering his lack of money due to his chosen profession, he feels like he can’t provide for you like he should.
You can tell that he is needy right now and you press your lips to his briefly before you caress his cheek. "To the moon and back." You promise him. "The only one I will ever be married to."
Your words have his heart racing and his stomach clenching when you look into his eyes and you stare at him like he’s the only person in the world, in your world. He loves it and he surges forward to reclaim your lips, needing to be as close as possible to you at this moment.
You love when Dieter is like this, needy and greedy for you. Holding you tight and kissing you like you are the only woman in the world. Even if he dreams big, what you have is real, it’s not an act. You kiss him back just as eagerly, pouring your feelings for him into that simple act while you bounce on his cock.
You take him so well and he groans into your mouth, his tongue sloppily sliding against yours. His hands are everywhere, greedy for you, and he knows you’ll be by his side no matter what. He loves that about you. He tries to get as much of you as possible and it’s so not enough.
Both of you dissolve into moans and grunts of pleasure, the pace picking up to where your tits are bouncing and you feel like Dieter is in your guts. Breathlessly panting praise for him and how his cock feels into his mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming.
He needs to feel you fall apart for him so he slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves and he groans when you fall apart for him within a few swipes of his fingers. You clamp down on his cock and soak him, collapsing against his chest and he moves fast to wrap his arms around your body, rocking you on top of him as he seeks his own orgasm.
Dieter is frantic and greedy, bordering on desperate as he starts to shuffle his hips up. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” You cry out, gasping as he pushes it towards overstimulation. “Cum for me, baby.”
He falls apart as the command leaves your lips. His cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot seed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He pants as he stiffens beneath you, his face buried in your neck as he cums for you, only for you.
You whine softly, loving how you’ve stopped using condoms since you’ve gotten married. One day you will go off your birth control and start a family, but you’ve decided to wait until your mother doesn't need as much care and Dieter is better established. “I love you.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair gently.
He pants, kissing your chin as he looks up at you, “love you too.” He murmurs, caressing your back as you embrace while the pleasure echoes through your bodies. He sighs and presses a soft kiss to your lips just as your mom calls your name from upstairs.
You sigh softly. “At least we finished this time.” You chuckle, kissing his lips again before you pull off his cock with a groan. “Coming!” You call up the stairs as you move to the sink to clean up quickly so you can redress.
Dieter sighs, shifting to grab his pants from the floor. He knows you are an incredible person to take care of your mom and moving in with her has helped you both to save up money, hopefully for a move to L.A, but his mother in law has been a cock block since he moved in. He watches you rush around and get dressed before you run upstairs and he redresses, looking down at the script on the table. The phone rings on the wall and he calls out “I’ll get it.” He answers and frowns when they say his name. It’s his agent. The one he’s scrapped money together to get some auditions booked. “You got it! You got the part!” He announces and Dieter’s eyes widen, “th-the lead?” He asks, wanting to confirm. “The lead!” His agent grins and Dieter’s heart thumps in his chest. He got the lead. He got it. He finally did it. He grabs a notepad to take down the details. “So you need to move to L.A. Read through for the pilot is the first week of December.” His agent says and after writing down the details, Dieter says goodbye. His grin makes his cheeks hurt and he shakes his head in disbelief.
When you come downstairs, his hands are shaking. “She wants some tea.” You announce as you walk to the stove and Dieter spins you around, pressing his lips to yours. “I did it!” He announces and you frown, “did what?” He chuckles, cupping your cheeks, “I got the part.”
“The part?” You’re confused for a moment before your eyes widen. “The part! That’s great baby!” You kiss him again.
“Yeah we have to be in L.A by December first.” He tells you excitedly, making your face fall into a frown. “In L.A?” You ask, hoping that he is joking. “Yeah, we can go out this weekend and see about getting a place.” He immediately starts rambling and you get more and more worried as he starts to plan out leaving and catching his big break before he finally takes a breath. “Baby….” You bite your lip. “I can’t move to LA. What about mom? What about our life here? My job?” You don’t want to say it out loud, but Dieter has never been the financially stable one of the two of you. You wanted him to chase his dreams and you had always thought once he got it out of his system, he would settle down.
His excitement falters and he stares at you, his brow furrowing. "I, uh, I thought this was always the plan. You know, us, moving to L.A. You working on your art. Me on acting. Our fucking dreams baby. Have you forgotten we have dreams?" He growls, stepping back from you, "or are we gonna fucking die in this goddamn town like our fathers?"
You rear back from the venom in his voice. “Of course I haven’t forgotten we have dreams.” You tell him, hating how he is looking at you. “But sometimes you have to put your dreams on hold. Mom is sick. What am I supposed to do? Leave her alone? Who would take care of her?” You demand. “How will you pay rent if the part falls through? Or the show isn’t picked up? We have stability here. I’m not saying we don’t dream, but I have responsibilities right now.”
Dieter frowns, taking in your words, and his heart breaks. He can’t follow his dream and be with you so he’s going to have to give up his dream. This is his chance, he feels it in his stomach, but he knows you won’t leave your mother. “I can’t stay here forever.” He murmurs, his dark eyes meeting yours.
“I promise it won’t be forever.” You murmur softly, relieved that he is seeing reason. You step closer and he’s not pulling away again. Reaching out and caressing his cheek gently. “Within the next couple of years, we will be chasing our dreams for real.”
Dieter nods despite the part being in the back of his mind but it’s Thanksgiving. Maybe you’ll see reason in a couple of days. He doesn’t phone his agent back to turn down the role, wanting to see how things go. You work on getting the tea ready for your mom and Dieter stands up, “I’ve got a rehearsal for the show later so I’m gonna go shower.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, heading upstairs to the bathroom with Hollywood in the back of his mind.
After taking your mother her tea, you start prepping Thanksgiving. It’s a huge relief to have your family bringing dishes so it’s not all on you. You know you will have a lot to do and taking care of things now will help. Humming to yourself as you make the pie Dieter loves, you smile to yourself. It’s going to be a wonderful holiday.
****
Dieter taps his fingers on the table, listening to your uncle ramble on about the election and he clenches his jaw, trying to not snap at him. "Did you vote for that piece of shit or not, Bravo?" Your uncle Frank asks and Dieter sighs, not wanting to get into an argument. "I don't really get into politics." He answers diplomatically and Frank scoffs, "if you guys value your future, you would pay more goddamn attention." Dieter picks up his glass of wine and takes a sip, glancing across the room to where you are rushing around to grab what everyone needs before you all sit down for dinner. "You need any help, babe?" He calls out and you shake your head, "no. No. I'm nearly done. Everyone sit down!" You demand and you carry the mac and cheese to the table while everyone admires the feast in front of them. Your mom wants to say grace so Dieter reluctantly takes your hand, keeping one eye open as he holds his mom's hand on the other side of him. Your mom clears her throat before she speaks, "thank you Lord for the food we are about to eat. Thank you for family, friends, and loved ones. Thank you for every day we wake up and see the sunshine. May we have many days to come." She finishes with a cough and Dieter sees a tear roll down your cheek and he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it while everyone says "Amen." You clear your throat and smile, telling everyone to dig in.
The table is soon full of food and drinks and your aunt Susan decides to sour Dieter's mood. "So when are you planning on having kids? You two have been married for six months. I was five months pregnant by that stage." She giggles and turns towards you.
You feel Dieter tense beside you and your hand quickly slides under the table to squeeze his knee in reassurance. “We’ve decided to wait.” You remind everyone, the exact same thing you said when you were getting married. “Why? You’re married now, it’s time for you to start a family.” Frankie insists and you shake your head. “We have things we want to do before we have kids. If we even have them at all.” You add.
Frankie scoffs, "don't tell me that you are putting a family on hold so Dieter can become a fucking actor?" Dieter stiffens even more, knowing your uncle wasn't impressed by his career plans and thought he should get a real job to support you and any kids that come along. "I, uh, I got a part, actually. In a pilot, in L.A. It's about a detective." Dieter tries to defend himself and his mom chimes in with "really, baby? That's amazing. Oh I'm so proud of you." She coos, knowing how much her son wants to be an actor. Ever since he was a little boy it's been his dream but your family is relentless.
"Proud of him? What's he gonna do? Drag her to L.A and leave his mother-in-law when she's sick? She's got fucking cancer and her son in law is gonna fuck off so he can follow some dream and come crawling back here when he fails and get a damn divorce because he didn't put his goddamn family over his selfish ass. He will never be famous." Frankie shakes his head and Dieter drops his fork, shrugging off his mom when she rubs his shoulder and pushing your hand away.
“Uncle Frank, that’s enough.” You hiss, although you aren’t shouting because you want to keep the peace as much as possible. “No, it’s not nearly enough.” He snorts and you shake your head. “Your vision of our life doesn’t matter. If Dieter wants to try to make it big in Hollywood, you should be proud of that.”
"Don't." Dieter murmurs, clenching his jaw, and he shoves his napkin on the table, "I'm sorry. I - I gotta go to the bathroom." He declares and you frown, "babe" but he strides off without glancing back at you. He storms into your bathroom, leaning over the vanity to look at himself in the mirror.
"I have a fucking role. I know I can do it. I know I can be an actor. Just need a fucking chance." He hisses through his teeth. "All I need is a chance. I'll fucking prove that asshole wrong." He growls to himself and glances at his toothbrush sitting next to yours. He will never make it in Hollywood if he stays here. He will never prove them wrong. You'll get pregnant and he will give up on his dream. He'll lose his hair, go grey, get wrinkles, and a beer gut like every other fucker in this town. He will be a loser just like them. "I'm not a fucking loser." He mutters and grabs his toothbrush.
“Why do you have to be an asshole?” You hiss to your uncle as everyone else shifts uncomfortably. “The boy has to face reality.” Frank insists, frowning heavily. “He’s not going to be an actor. He needs to get a better job to support you instead of you paying all the damn bills and running yourself ragged while he pretends to work at that stupid little community theatre.”
Dieter rushes around your bedroom, packing essentials, and he grabs a piece of paper from your nightstand, scribbling out a message to you. You'll come to find him any second so his handwriting is awful. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and looks at the bed you share. Hopefully you understand why he's doing this. He loves you but he needs to do this for himself. He has to prove everyone wrong. He hesitates for a second when he sees your wedding photo as he turns towards the door and he sighs, shaking his head before he makes his way downstairs quietly. "You need to dump his ass. That Grayson boy wanted to marry you and he works at his daddy's dealership. He's got a career and he's gonna be a big deal in this town. Should've married him." Frank scoffs and Dieter swallows harshly, making his way down the hall to the front door. He opens it softly and steps outside, the cold air making him shiver and he gets in his car, not hesitating as he backs out the driveway and begins his journey. "L.A here I come." He mutters, knowing he will return to his hometown a fucking Oscar winner.
You finally have to leave the table. Not even your mother chiding your uncle has helped and you are sick of his damned opinions. “Dee?” You knock on the door to your shared bedroom, wanting to give him a chance to compose himself if he’s upset. He’s a lot more sensitive than most would believe. “Baby….” You open the door and frown when you don’t see him sitting on the bed and looking miserable. “Hun?” The bathroom light is off and you sigh. Thinking that maybe he had gone outside until you spot the paper on the bed. Stomach sinking in dread, you stare at it for a moment before you reach for the slip of paper. Hand trembling, you unfold it and see that Dieter has scrawled “I can’t wait for my dreams. I’m sorry.” You choke back a sob, realizing that he’s left and you don’t even know when he’ll be home.
****
"Fuckkkkk yessss." Dieter groans as he watches the woman take his cock into his mouth while her boyfriend slides into her from behind. It's a naughty sight he's familiar with and he fucking loves it. "Look so fucking gorgeous." He coos and the man smirks, "says the Oscar winning actor and People's Sexiest Man of the Year 2023." Dieter smirks, chest puffing slightly as the woman giggles as she squeezes his cock. "should get best cock of the year too." She coos and Dieter caresses her cheek, "fuck. You two are gonna make me cum with words." He smirks, "you free next weekend?" He asks, wanting to spend more time with his co-stars.
"We are going to New York. It's - fuck - Thanksgiving." The man reminds Dieter who frowns as his cock is pushed further down the woman's throat. Thanksgiving. Something he hasn't celebrated in the years since he left you during the middle of dinner. His assistant has probably booked for him to go to Hawaii again. "Guess I'll see you when you get back." He says and smirks when he shifts onto his knees to kiss his co-star.
****
"What do you mean the fucking flight is canceled?" Dieter growls at the check in assistant at the first class desk. He would travel private but holidays are fucking expensive. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bravo, but the flights have been canceled to Hawaii. The fires..." She trails off and Dieter scoffs, "what a joke. So what the fuck am I gonna do?" He asks her, eyebrows raised above his aviators. "We can get you a flight somewhere else. Or a refund. If you want to go somewhere, this flight is leaving at the same time as your previous flight." She turns the screen and his jaw drops when he sees the flight is to his hometown. "No. No. Not there. Anywhere but there." He demands and she nods, "I can issue a refund but-" Dieter cuts her off, "actually. Get me a ticket. First class." He demands, remembering that he hasn't seen his mom in years and his co-stars talked about how nice it is to go home for the holidays. He will go home and show everyone in that fucking town that he's back. The Oscar Winning Actor who won Sexiest Man of the Year 2023 is fucking back. "There you go, Mr. Bravo. Enjoy your trip." She hands him the ticket and he smirks, "oh I will."
****
“Mom, I really don’t feel like celebrating this year.” It’s the same comment you make every year, but you are always overruled. “Don’t be ridiculous.” True to what you had told Dieter, your mother had beaten cancer and was now happily in remission. You still live with her, not because you are taking care of her, but because you didn’t want to live alone after Dieter had left you. “Don’t worry, I’ve already invited Sean.” She assures you. “And Debra won’t mind him being there.” You roll your eyes, wishing that Dieter’s mother wasn’t also your mom’s best friend and automatically invited to every family event. Even if you were technically still family since Dieter would never sign the damn divorce papers.
Dieter takes his glasses off his face when he rings the doorbell of his childhood home and his mom answers within a few moments. "Dieter?" She gasps, shocked to see her son, "hi mom." He smiles and she squeals, surging forward to wrap her arms around his neck. "You're home. I can't believe it." She cries and Dieter embraces her. Despite his playboy reputation in L.A, he's always been a momma's boy. "I missed you. Let me look at you." She cups his cheeks and frowns, "you don't eat enough and you pierced your ear. And got more tattoos." She tuts, "but other than that, you are my boy." She kisses his cheek and lets go of him when he flushes, "mom." She steps back and ushers him inside, "come in, come in. I'm just cooking." Dieter follows her inside the familiar home and it hasn't changed.
"I'm just cooking for the dinner tomorrow." She explains and Dieter raises his eyebrows, "dinner?" She nods and says your mom's name, "it's Thanksgiving." She says with a giggle, "silly goose." Dieter frowns, "I, uh, I should probably stay here. I'll be fine." He promises and his mom nods, "yeah. She will be there." His mom never mentions your name on the phone when she discusses her best friend and her life. He heard about your mom beating cancer and he took a hit of coke to celebrate. "She's engaged. So it's probably best that you don't go." She says, still protective over you despite Dieter being her son. She was shocked when you came back in to announce that Dieter had left and she wanted to slap him silly for leaving the best thing to ever happen to him. Even if he was preoccupied with his dreams. "Engaged?" Dieter chokes, knowing he has no right to be shocked but his stomach twists. "She's happy." His mom says and Dieter scoffs, "happy. Still in this damn town. She can't be happy. Who's she engaged to?" He asks and Debra sighs, "Sean Grayson. He's good for her. Baby, I know...I know you left and wow, you've made me so proud seeing you as an Oscar winner and all but...it's time to let her go." She reaches for his hand and Dieter pulls his hand away before she can touch him.
"I want to meet him. I'm going to dinner." He declares, spinning on his heel to call around, see if he can at least get some weed from someone around town. "Oh boy." Debra mutters, knowing this year will be drama filled but maybe it will be good for everyone to get closure.
Waking up on Thanksgiving is always so damn surreal for you. You dread the day, wouldn’t do anything but hide in your bed if you had your way, but you can’t do that. Your mom only let you have the first year after Dieter left to sulk. After that, she had decided Thanksgiving would go on, and so would you. So you just wake up and stare at the ceiling, knowing that this would be the last year you would sleep in this bed. The same one you shared with Dieter although you had replaced the mattress five years ago. “Fuck.” You groan, looking over at the nightstand where another copy of the divorce papers are waiting to be mailed after the holiday.
Dieter wakes up with a groan as his mom bangs on the door to his childhood bedroom. "Dieter! We are leaving in twenty minutes!" Debra shouts through the door and Dieter winces as he rubs his cheek. "Ugh, shit." He rasps as he glances at the clock. It's nearly eleven. He managed to find some weed last night. Ironically the dealer was the same kid who would sell weed in high school and he was shocked when Dieter met him. "No way man, I fucking loved you in Hunger Strike. Here, some E on me." He shoved the baggies at Dieter who offered him a polite smile and paid him before smoking in his room like he used to do when he was sixteen. He rolls out of bed and showers, groaning at his reflection. He's older, wrinkled, graying hair. Everything Frank said he would be but he's famous. He's successful. That's all that matters and today, he gets to show that to everyone who doubted him. He dresses in nicer jeans and a button down, wanting to appear successful since they cost more than someone's rent for the month. "You ready, mom?" He asks and Debra nods, "are you ready?" She emphasizes and Dieter smirks, "let's go."
Even though you would rather be anywhere else, you come downstairs dressed nicely and make sure that you put on makeup this morning. Sean likes when you dress up for him and since this is the first Thanksgiving spent with him here, you make the effort. Hours later, it is almost time for everyone to arrive and you are putting your pie in the oven.
The drive to your mom's house is quiet and Dieter looks out at the town he left in the dust. It hasn't changed and he is nervous. He knows you must hate him. You've sent him divorce papers several times throughout the years but he has never signed them. He doesn't really know why. Sometimes he's gotten high or drunk and signed them but never mailed them. Sometimes he's ripped them up and had his assistant overnight them back to you. He should give you a divorce but he can't do it. Even if he doesn't know why. Pulling up on the familiar driveway, he adjusts his sweater and follows his mom to the front door, bracing himself as she rings the doorbell.
“I’ll get it!” You just texted Sean, so you are pretty sure that it’s Debra. If you can get the talk about Dieter out of the way before he gets here, you would feel a lot better. The last thing you want to do this year is be reminded all day that your husband left you. “Hi, Deb-“ your smile freezes as you open the door to your mother in law and find not only her, but your absentee husband standing on the doorstep with a disgustingly charming smile on his handsome face. “What the fuck?”
Dieter slides his eyes down your body, taking in the sight of you after so many years apart and God, you’re just as fucking beautiful. But you are glaring at him like he just shot your dog and he guesses he deserves that. “Hi honey. I’m home.” He jokes, unable to do anything else right now.
“Are you delivering the divorce papers in person?” You demand and he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “What divorce papers?” He feigns ignorance and Debra chuckles awkwardly. “Now, now, it’s Thanksgiving!” She reminds both of you before she calls out to your mom. “Where do you want the casserole?” She slides by you into the house and leaves you staring at Dieter.
“I wanted to come home and see everyone. Is there something wrong with that?” Dieter continues to smile, loving how affected you seem to be by his appearance. “I missed my mom’s casserole.” He pouts, “and you.”
You rock your jaw, seeing how Dieter’s smile has shifted to a smirk. “Missed me?” You snort and you know that you have to let him in or risk causing a scene. “I doubt that. Where’s that fitness model you were dating? And the hotel concierge?” You watch him shift and his arms drop to his sides, telling you when he’s feeling guilty. “Guess they couldn’t make it?” You don’t invite him in, but you turn and just walk away with the door still open.
Dieter clenches his jaw, knowing his flings have been well broadcasted and his relationship with Anika fell apart because she wanted to get married and he couldn’t explain why he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t tell her he was already married. He huffs and strides into your house, one he knows well but there are differences in decor since he was last here. Shutting the door behind him, he follows you down the hall into the living room where your family is gathered. “Uncle Frank.” Dieter grins, walking over to the old man to slap him on the back, “so good to see you.”
Your uncle Frank’s eyes widen in shock when he turns to see the man he had once called a loser standing next to him. Dieter is successful, famous and rich. He chokes out a “Dieter,” without swallowing his tongue. “You’re here for Thanksgiving?”
Dieter wishes there was a camera to take a photo of the man who ridiculed him so many years ago for chasing his dream. Dieter nods, “yes. Figured I’d come home and see everyone. How you doing?” He asks and Frank chokes out “I’m the same.” Dieter tuts and shakes his head, “that’s a shame. You’ve done nothing with your life.” He mocks and your aunt Susan comes over to him, “you were amazing in Hunger Strike. You really deserved the Oscar.” She says and Dieter grins, standing straighter, “yeah. Thanks. I, uh, I worked my ass off on that role.”
You walk into the kitchen, seething in anger that Dieter just waltzes back into your life and now it could ruin everything. “Why the fuck is he here?”
Your mom sighs, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know Deb was bringing him. Hell, I didn’t even know he was back home. What - what are you gonna do? Sean is arriving any minute.” As soon as she says that, the doorbell rings.
“Oh shit.” Your eyes close in frustration and you rush out of the room to open the door before anyone else. Luckily Dieter is letting your aunt fawn and coo over him, as if she’s not completely aware that he had broken your heart.
Dieter watches you rush past the living room down the hall and he offers your aunt a smile as she gushes over his movies. This is what he wanted. To return to adoration. To come back be someone. Not a loser. His grin is cocky as he accepts her praise until you walk into the living with Sean Grayson behind you. He hated that kid in high school. He was a jock who’d make fun of Dieter for being the weird theater kid.
“Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we stay.” You murmur to Sean. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He huffs. “I’ve been looking forward to Thanksgiving with your family.”
Your family, especially Uncle Frank, all coo over Sean as he strides into the living room and your uncle reaches out to shake his hand. “So glad you could come.” He grins and Dieter rolls his eyes, he’s never been greeted like that by your asshole uncle. Sean makes the rounds to say hello until he’s facing Dieter. “Oh. Wow. Bravo. You’re back in town.” Sean says and Dieter nods, holding out his hand, digging his rings into his flesh a little harder than normal. “Yep. Back in town. Figured I’d have a small town Thanksgiving for once instead of trying to cool down in Hawaii.”
You bite your lip and watch your fiancé interact with your technical husband. He smiles that smarmy smile you’ve noticed he’s developed over the years when you’ve accidentally seen interviews and articles with him in them. The one that you can tell is fake. “I need a drink? Does anyone need a drink?” You ask. “Sean, why don’t you come help me, sweetheart?”
Dieter watches you walk off with Sean and Uncle Frank nudges the actor. “New man on the scene. You know, his daddy gave him the dealership. Boy is making good money and he bought her a hell of a ring. Much nicer than that tin you gave her.” Frank snorts and Dieter clenches his jaw and gives him a tight smile. “I wasn’t rich then. I could buy her a million dollar ring and still not touch the sides.”
“But why would you?” He asks. “You’re banging everything you can get your hands on. We aren’t so small town that we don’t know what you’re doing in Hollywood.” In the kitchen, you are rushing to get the wine glasses while Sean gets the wine. “I can’t believe Bravo came.” Sean snorts. “Got to be a shock to see your ex-husband here.”
Dieter snorts, wishing he had a cigarette or something to distract himself from the hell he volunteered for. He imagined you would be grateful for his return and he’s found you engaged to a fucking asshole who used to bully him. “True. You know, I was in a throuple.” Dieter smirks, “wore me out and I ended it because I needed to give my body a break, if you know what I mean.” He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.
Frank curls his lip and turns away from Dieter, moving over towards his wife and leaning in to whisper something in her ear. “Yeah- uh, it’s kind of a shock.” You tell Sean, quickly opening the bottle he opened and pouring out drinks. “Just- um, please don’t talk about the wedding or anything?” You beg him. “I don’t want Dieter to try to bring up the past today. I don’t know if I can handle it.” Sean knows all about Dieter leaving you on the holiday and has been supportive of you so far. You can only hope that Dieter doesn’t run his fucking mouth. You’ve never actually told Sean you are still married to the actor, assuming he would get bored of whatever little game he had been playing and sign the damned papers. The judge wouldn’t grant you a divorce without Dieter present because of his fame and the wealth he has, despite you promising the old coot you just wanted the divorce. He had also been the one to marry you and Dieter forever ago and had a history of no divorces amongst the couples who had been married by him. It makes you want to tear your hair out.
Sean nods, coming over to you so he can rub your upper arms. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s gonna be okay. We won’t let him ruin this holiday again.” Sean murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Just ignore him and if you want, I’ll kick his ass.” Sean smirks, “been wanting to do it since high school anyway.”
You frown slightly, hearing an anticipation in Sean’s voice that you didn’t like. You know they didn’t get along in high school, but that was so long ago. “No, nothing like that.”
Sean nods, "fine. Let's get a drink and ignore his ass." Sean reaches for a bottle of beer and opens it, talking a gulp. Meanwhile, Dieter is thanking your mom when she hands him a glass of white wine. He wishes it was stronger but he doesn't want to get sloppy. Today, he's here to show everyone that they were wrong.
You try not to even look at Dieter when you come back into the room, reassured by the kiss shared in the kitchen and the weight of Sean’s hand on your waist. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen.” You tell everyone, smiling but avoiding looking over towards Dieter and Debra.
Dieter's gaze drops to the hand on your waist and he shifts from one foot to the other. He knows he has no claim over you but he feels jealous. He talks to his mom who smiles at him, happy he's home, and finally, everyone is sitting down for dinner.
"So, Bravo, why'd you come back? To this town?" Sean asks after you walk into the kitchen to grab the salt and pepper. "To see my mom. To see everyone since I've been gone for so long." Dieter answers and Sean snorts, "yeah. Years. Looks like you've been busy too. Work wise and with partners." Dieter snorts, "true. I have been very busy." He smirks, "that's why I came home. I needed rest."
You look down at your plate after sitting down, pretending not to care about the conversation but it stings. A knife to your chest just like that time….you reach for your glass and take another gulp of your wine. Dieter had moved on, obviously, and so have you. It does no good to delve into the past. “Well, our small town is the perfect place for rest.” You manage brightly, picking up your fork again.
Dieter hums, “that it is. That it is.” Sean narrows his eyes slightly when he sees the way Dieter looks at you. “So what are your plans? Just hanging around? Or you gonna go out? We don’t need the town to be disrupted.” He bites at Dieter who chuckles and nods, “I’m used to signing autographs and taking photos. I just don’t want fans to be stalking me. I’ve had some issues back home with fans following me home. I did take one to bed once but she ended up being crazy.”
You shudder, forking up a bite of your food and holding it at your mouth. “I’m sure that after tonight Dieter will go back to LA where he belongs.” You look towards your fiancé. “Our small town is boring and there’s nothing here for him.” You’ll give him the papers again when Sean leaves.
Dieter shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. This town has its charms.” His dark eyes focus on you, “but enough about me. What about you two? Tell me how you met.” He orders, setting his fork down to take a sip of wine.
You are about to change the subject, but Sean actually reaches over and squeezes your knee. “Well, her car was on its last leg, a rolling road hazard really, so she came in to find another vehicle.” Sean explains. “Since dad turned over the dealership to me, I find that I actually like to be on the sales floor. I sold her on the idea of that pretty little car in the driveway and a date.” He chuckles at his own joke and you smile at him when he looks over, although your appetite is gone and your stomach is in knots.
Dieter chuckles, a fake smile on his face as he looks at you. You look a little sick, definitely look like you want to floor to swallow you up. “And do you make her cum?” Dieter asks bluntly, “because she used to love it when I ate her out.”
“Dieter!” His name is not only hissed by you, but by his mother, and your own. Your aunt gasping and your uncle grumbling about degenerate behavior while you wish you could just disappear. Sean stiffens but he looks over at you and smirks. “Well, I’m the one taking care of her now.” He turns back towards Dieter. “And I’m not talking about my fiancée like that.”
Dieter falters for a second upon hearing you’re engaged to that asshole but he recovers and smirks back, “so you eat her ass? She used to love that. Would make her drip onto the bed sheets.” He continues to push the boundaries and his mother slaps his arm, “I cannot believe you. Be quiet.” She pleads but Dieter stares at Sean, silently challenging the man you’re engaged to.
Your face feels like it’s on fire, thoroughly embarrassed by Dieter’s childish behavior and the very personal questions. Sean snorts and shakes his head. “You’re something else, Bravo.” He tells him. “It’s a good damn thing she didn’t stay in LA with you. You would have mortified her in interviews.”
Dieter leans back in his chair, his brow furrowing, "what are you talking about? She didn't come to L.A." He scoffs, "she never wanted to come to L.A. She wanted to stay in this shithole town and have babies and die having never achieved anything."
Sean frowns and looks at you. “I thought you said you met up with him in LA to give him the divorce papers?” He asks and you huff out a nervous smile. “I mean- I did, but I-“ Dieter chuckles. “Nope. Never happened.” He announces. “Dieter-“ you try to stop him, but he just smirks at Sean. “We’re still married.”
Dieter watches Sean's face drop and he chuckles, "she didn't tell you? She's still Mrs. Bravo." He reveals and his mom nudges him but this moment is so satisfying. To see that smug look fall from that asshole’s face. "We don't have a pre-nup so it's not financially viable for me to divorce."
“You told me you were divorced.” Sean’s eyes narrow towards you and you know that he’s pissed. “Baby, I’ve been trying to-“ “You know how I feel about shit like that!” He hisses, his chair scraping the floor as he pushes back from his plate quickly. “You’ve been lying to me. I can’t-“ he shakes his head and stalks around the table to edge towards the door. Leaping up, you rush after him, hoping you can explain.
Dieter smirks and his mom slaps his arm again, “why would you do that?” She asks and Uncle Frank scoffs, “because he’s an asshole.” Dieter hums, feeling satisfied to make Sean angry. “Well, let’s not let the food go to waste.” He declares and digs back into his food.
Outside you are chasing after Sean. “Wait! I can explain.” You tell him, making him stop and spin around. “You can explain how you’ve been lying to me?” He demands, his face showing how hurt and upset he is. You sigh. “I’ve been trying to divorce Dieter since I went to LA. But he refuses to do anything with the papers I’ve sent his lawyer, his agent, him directly.” You wave your arm around in frustration. “And the judge will not do anything until he does sign them!”
“So you accepted my proposal knowing you are already married? What were you gonna do? Be a bigamist?” He hisses and you shake your head, tears in your eyes. “I can’t- I can’t marry someone who lies to me and I need time. I- I’ll call you later.” He shrugs off your touch when you reach for him and he stomps over to his car, getting in and speeding off down the road.
You watch the car for a moment, angry and hurt, even though you know that he is right. You lied to him, afraid of losing the first stable relationship since Dieter had left you. Walking back inside, you find Dieter calmly eating Thanksgiving dinner like he hadn’t just turned your life upside down again. “Thanks for that, you fucking selfish prick!” You yell. “Why did you even come back here now? To ruin Thanksgiving for me all over? Mission accomplished!” You turn back around and rush out of the house again, tears streaming down your face.
Dieter scoffs and stands up, following you outside because he needs to say what he’s been thinking since he arrived. You spin around when you see him, telling him to leave you alone. “Like you really wanted to marry that prick. He just wants you to be a homemaker. Pop out his babies. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about your dreams. I did, remember? But you didn’t follow your dreams. You stayed here to fucking rot in this fucking town.” Dieter growls, “you’re the one who gave up on us. Not me. I left to do what we always said we’d do. I had the balls to follow my dreams.”
“Fuck you.” You hiss, glaring at him and wanting so back to slap him. “Apparently following your dreams was also fucking other people!” You watch as his eyes widen and you laugh at the irony. “I went to LA, Dieter! A week after you mailed me your apartment key, I flew out to surprise you. Mom had just been told the cancer treatment had been successful and I wanted to tell you in person.”
Tears are streaming down your face as you tell him. “I crept into the apartment only to find your dick down some bitch’s throat while her boyfriend was fucking her. Allllllll while you moaned about how you were going to fuck them both. So I left.”
He flinches, remembering that night, and he wondered why his door was unlocked at the time but figured his guests hadn’t locked it. “I- I- what was I supposed to do? You didn’t want me. You made it clear that I didn’t matter when I got the part and you refused to follow me. Your mom could’ve come with us. I don’t - I refuse to apologize for living my damn life.” He growls back before he swallows and slumps, “I’m sorry. I- fuck - okay? I’m so goddamn sorry. I missed you. Whenever I got drunk, I’d pick up the phone and call you and you’d answer and - and I’d lose my shit and hang up. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have left but I achieved my dream. I couldn’t stay here and be called a loser by your family anymore. I had to prove myself and my chance came. I had to take it. No matter the cost.”
“No matter the cost.” You nod, feeling deflated. “That cost was our marriage. But I guess it was worth it, right?” You ask. “You get to fuck whoever you want, everyone wants to fuck an Oscar winner.” You turn around and rush off, wanting to be alone.
He lets you walk away this time, knowing how you feel and he can tell you hate him. He’s ruined everything for you because he was selfish and wanted to achieve his dreams. Your mom was sick, he should’ve stayed, but it’s too late to turn back the clock. He watches you walk off and feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s your mom. “I- I’m sorry. I ruined her life.” He murmurs and turns to look at his mother in law.
“You know, I was so angry when you left. On Thanksgiving of all days. She fell apart. Wouldn’t speak to me. Just helped me get better and I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her, but I feel guilty. She never got to achieve her dreams. I held her back. And to know that I could’ve stopped you from your success is equally as bad. I hate you for leaving her but I love you for accomplishing your dream. When I was sick, I had so many regrets. I had to face death and I realized I didn’t do anything that I set out to do. After you left, I decided to do all the things that I wanted to do when I was better. I did all that and it’s because of you. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be regretting all the things I didn’t do. You are a great actor, Dieter, but right now, you need to be yourself and be honest. Do you want to be married to my daughter when you are in L.A and she has found someone who can give her what she needs? She wants children. She wants to be happy. She can’t do that if she’s constantly clinging to the past. Do the right thing.” She urges and Dieter sighs, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’ll go talk to her.” He promises, knowing where you are. Where you used to go. It doesn’t take long to walk to the park, finding you on the swing set you’d hang out at as kids.
You sniff as you kick at the rubber that they replaced the old sand with. It’s not nearly as satisfying as you had thought when you got to tell Dieter off and him being here has stirred up emotions you had thought you had buried deep enough. Sean is a good guy, but he isn’t Dieter. He doesn’t dream with you, and he can be annoyingly practical all the time. You hate how your heart had kicked in your chest when you opened the door to see your husband standing there. As if you sense his presence, you look up to see him walking towards you. Making you sigh softly and kick off to start swinging.
Dieter approaches you cautiously, not wanting to be screamed at again, and he sits down on the swing next to you. “Your mom talked to me. She’s still the same. Like my second mom.” He chuckles and glances at you until he turns his gaze to the falling leaves. “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. I have been selfish and I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed. Talked to you. Made a plan together.” He inhales deeply, “I’ll sign the papers. No arguments. I’ll let you go so you can be happy with Sean.”
You sigh, continuing to swing as you absorb what he is saying. “It doesn’t matter now.” You finally admit. “Sean’s first wife had an affair so he hates liars and cheaters.” You snort to yourself. “And technically, I’m both.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve really fucked up your life. I’ll sign the papers and get you one of those uh, what is it the models want, a Birkin bag.” He teases and you roll your eyes. “I won’t fuck your life any more. I’ll sign the papers.” He promises softly.
“Why wouldn’t you sign them before now?” You ask. “Seriously? I asked for nothing. Not one dime. No spousal support, no alimony, nothing. But you wouldn’t sign them while you were galavanting around the world and having public relationships with models.”
He looks down at his hands, the tattoo he got when he was eighteen of the circle you’d draw on his hand during class. He rubs the circle and sighs, “because I never stopped loving you. I know you won’t believe me and I’m not asking for anything but I thought if I signed the papers…it’s over. We are over. I didn’t want to face that when no one in Hollywood ever loved me. Not for me. Not like you did. I love you and I was selfish to keep you trapped in our marriage while I did whatever I wanted, whoever I wanted. I’ll sign the papers and I’ll talk to Sean. Tell him it was my fault. I threatened you to not sign the papers because I- I don’t know, because I didn’t want to give you any money. I’ll take the blame and you can be single and marry him, if that’s what you want.”
“You know you broke my heart, when you left?” You ask softly. “That's why I wouldn’t talk to you in the beginning. I was upset. If you had just talked to me about a plan that didn’t just include dropping everything, I would have gone along.” You continue to swing as you talk. “I wanted to be with you in LA. Wanted to help you make your dream come true, but you didn’t need me. You had everyone else.”
Dieter shakes his head, flexing his fingers, “everyone else?” He scoffs, “no one really wanted me. They wanted fame, money, connections. They didn’t give a fuck about me. The real me. I had to get lost in the haze of drugs and booze to feel something. No one has ever made me feel like you do.” He admits, “no one ever came close to you.”
“Poor Dieter.” You don’t murmur it sarcastically like you probably should have, despite everything you have to admit to yourself that you still love him. “You have everything you wanted and are more alone than ever.”
He knows he should put his walls back up and say his life is amazing but he is exhausted from pretending. “No one loves me. Not really. They only love what I can give them.” He sighs and rubs his hands.
“Your mom loves you.” You point out, even though you know that’s not what he means. Dieter huffs and you smile at his pout. “I still love you.” You admit. “It’s why I’m so fucking angry at you.”
Dieter clicks his tongue, “you still love me? Why? I’ve treated you like shit. Worse than shit. You should hate me. Fuck, I hate me.” He confesses, staring at the tarmac beneath his feet. “You deserve everything.”
“You can’t help who you love, Dieter.” You remind him, scoffing at both of you. “You broke my heart and refused to let me move on, but I watched the Oscars the night you won.” You confess. “Got drunk when I saw you making out with that model at the Vanity Fair after party.”
“I had - my PR needed me to date and make a name for myself until it became about me helping those girls make a name for themselves. I didn’t connect with anyone. Never had a relationship. Just one night stands. It was never serious. It was never you.” He closes his eyes and sighs.
“There’s no way I could compete with those women.” You scoff. “And men. They are gorgeous.”
Dieter chuckles humorlessly, "pretty but so fucking dumb. Trust me, baby. None of them had a lot of brain cells. They are beautiful but none of them wanted to talk about life. They just wanted to be seen with me and go on their way when they got what they wanted."
Some might call you stupid, but you feel bad for him. Dieter has always had this need to feel love, to be connected to someone. “I’m sorry that fame hasn’t been all you thought it would be.” You murmur. “I know that after I came back from LA, I- I just lost my passion. I couldn’t work on my art anymore. Everything was just dismal.”
“The grass ain’t always greener, huh?” He snorts and kicks his feet as he swings. “I’m sorry. I sent you that key when I was high and I always miss you when I’m high. I wanted to see you and figured that was one way to get you to L.A. I didn’t know…fuck, I wish I’d known.” He admits, “I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone for six months. Kinda lost the appeal. Casual sex. I miss how we used to be. Our sex.” He confesses, glancing at you.
“We had great sex.” You admit, never telling Sean that he didn’t quite measure up to your ex. That would have been wrong. “Maybe too good of sex.” You sigh again. “A month after you left, I found out I was pregnant. Or I thought I was.”
Dieter’s eyes widen, “you thought you were-? Did you-? I mean, I completely understand if you decided to, you know.” He finishes softly, his stomach twisting.
“No.” You quickly shake your head. “I, uh, lost the pregnancy a couple of weeks later.” You had confirmed with your doctor that it was likely you were in the early stages but it obviously wasn’t meant to be. He told you that stress could have caused it, or there was something wrong with the baby to not be viable. Either way, it had felt like the universe was telling you to let Dieter go. And then a month later you found him fucking another couple.
He hates that he wasn’t there, that he possibly caused it if you were upset by him leaving. “I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, “I know - there’s nothing I can say that will make that better or make it right.” He reaches for your hand to squeeze it, “I ruined your life. Your happiness.”
It’s the first time Dieter has touched you since he left so many Thanksgivings ago, but your heart still pounds and your skin tingles. “I wish we could have done things differently.” You squeeze his hand back gently.
Dieter nods, “me too. I wish I hadn’t fucked up. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” He confesses and kisses the back of your hand, “even better than an Oscar, but…that time of our lives is over now. I know you can’t forgive me. I’ll sign the papers.” He promises, letting go of your hand.
You frown to yourself as you wrap your hand around the chain for the swing and push off again. “Do you remember that weekend we each told our parents we were going to stay at a friend’s house and we went to that little cabin your grandfather owned?”
Dieter frowns, the memory is one that got buried beneath the haze of drugs and booze but he remembers. “Yeah. Our first time.” He smiles, fondly reminded of the night you first slept together. “It was so fucking cold and I couldn’t get the fire started. Turns out having sex is a great way to keep warm.” He chuckles, starting to swing alongside you.
“That was the day I decided I was going to marry you.” You hum at the memory, smiling softly at the way a very young Dieter had panicked that he had ruined the moment for you. You had both been kids at the time, growing up together. “That’s a fun fact that the world doesn’t know about Dieter Bravo.” You tease. “You married the girl that took your virginity.”
Dieter chuckles, “Entertainment Tonight would have a field day.” He winks at you when you giggle, “it took me way too damn long to propose to you but I was scared you were gonna say no. Who wanted to marry a wannabe actor making his money in a community theater with no house? I was a shitshow.” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself.
“You were my shitshow.” You laugh, leaning back in the swing and kicking your feet higher. “It was us against the world back then, and I didn’t believe you would make it honestly, but I wanted you to try.”
“Hey. My improv was fucking great.” He defends himself playfully, “but I had to try. Even if I went to L.A and failed, I had to try. I couldn’t live life thinking what if. Imagine if I hadn’t gone? I’d be sat at the kitchen table with our kids wondering what could’ve been. I just wish you’d been by my side when I left.” He says as he swings.
“Hard to be by your side when you left without a word. Just a note on the bed.” There’s no heat in your tone, just irony. “It just- wasn’t meant to be.”
“And Sean is meant to be?” Dieter snorts. “Do you really want to marry that asshole?”
“He’s…..” you blow out a sigh, “safe.” You admit to him and to yourself. “I like him, he’s a good man……” you know you aren’t answering the real question and it’s ironic that Dieter is the only one to ask you that since you and Sean got engaged. “No.” You confess after a moment. “I don’t to want to marry him.”
Dieter nods, quiet for a moment as he absorbs your words, “I can’t sit here and lecture you. I have no authority in your life but you need to do what you want. Fuck everyone else. You sacrificed so much of yourself for everyone around you. Even me. I was selfish and you are still sitting here talking to me. Do what you want. Be selfish for once.” He demands, wanting you to be happy.
You want to be selfish and you drag your feet along the ground to stop yourself and hop off the swing. Turning towards Dieter, you grab the chain and pull him to a stop. His eyes widen and for a second, you both think that you’re going to slap him. He would deserve it. Instead, you lunge forward and press your lips to his.
Dieter is shocked when your lips smash against his and he reacts within seconds, wrapping his arms around you to drag you into his lap. As soon as your lips touch his, his muscle memory kicks in and he deepens the kiss. Reminded of so many kisses shared all those years ago.
You are shocked by how quickly Dieter clings to you. You’re angry at him, how could you not be? But you’ve missed him so much that it doesn’t matter right now. Your fingers sink into his longer hair and you moan, enjoying how it feels. You always wanted him to grow his hair out.
Your fingers pull on his hair and he groans into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass. He devours you, knowing this is wrong, and you’re going to push him away any second, but right now he’s greedy and he wants you.
You let yourself be taken away by the moment. Leaning into him, breathing him in. His base scent is still the same, woodsy and you swear he is still wearing the same cologne you had picked out for him years ago.
He knows you’ll pull away any second and he readies himself for that rejection as he leans back, pecking your lips until he kisses your cheeks and finally, your forehead. “I never stopped loving you.” He promises breathlessly, his hands sliding up your back. “I just wanted to make you proud but I fucked it all up.”
“You did fuck it up all up.” You won’t spare his feelings, but you reach out and caress his cheek. “But I am proud of you, Dieter. Every movie broke my heart and made me proud. Every role, even when you were on Broadway.” You sigh. “I went to your performance, the second week in.”
“You did?” He asks, eyes widening as he looks at you and his heart is pounding in his chest. He hasn’t felt like this in so many years. He hasn’t felt anything real for so long.
“I had to see it. You talked about Broadway the entire time you were at our local theatre. I honestly didn’t expect you to take the role, but when it was announced, I bought tickets.” You tell him. You cried through the entire thing, but people just thought you were moved by the performances.
He smiles softly, loving that you came to see him even if you hated him. You are kind enough to support him even when he ruined your life. “So what now? You gonna tell Sean you don’t want to marry him? I go home and we act like this never happened?” He asks quietly, worried that you’ll nod and send him away.
“I don’t know.” You bite your lip. “I don’t know what you want. You have a life in LA, a …..persona.” You add. “If you want that life, still….” You shrug. “I don’t think I can be a part of it.”
“Come with me to L.A. There’s nothing keeping you here. I want you to see my life and I want you to do something for yourself. Make your dreams come true. Paint. Do whatever you want. I’ll support you. I don’t give a fuck about my persona. I want to be with you and if you want to go home, if you get sick of me, I’ll book you a private jet straight back here.” He promises, “just give me another chance. Give us another chance.”
You lick your lips, staring at him and watching him start to shift nervously. “You want me to move to LA? Live with you?” He nods enthusiastically. “I do, baby, I want you to come be with me.” You lick your lips. “What do I have to lose?”
He nods, not allowing himself to get too excited. "And if you hate it, hate me, wanna come home...I'll sign the papers." He promises, nudging his nose against yours.
You snort. “I doubt that.” You tease, closing the gap to press your lips to his again. “I’ve never hated you, even when I hated you.” You had been so upset at him, but it’s only because you loved him so much. You still love him.
****
“Baby! Did you get the juice boxes?” You call out and Dieter strides into the dining room with the boxes for the kids. “Here you go.” He leans over to kiss the head of his three year old son before handing another box to your five year old daughter who opens it herself while saying “thanks daddy.” It’s so weird to hear that even now and Dieter can’t believe he’s a father. He smiles at his daughter and leans in to softly kiss you. “You need anything?” He murmurs against your lips, pulling back to look at you. “No. No. Sit down and eat.” You order and he sits down. “It looks amazing.” Debra compliments your mom who beams, so happy to be spending the holidays with her grandchildren. “Thank you.” She smiles at Dieter who is happy to be sitting here. So different from that Thanksgiving so many years ago. You had moved to L.A with him after your mom encouraged you and after that, you had decided to try and repair your relationship. It was easy to fall in love again and now, you have two kids.
You have everything you wanted back then, finding some small success as an artist, but you really prefer spending time with your kids, and your husband when he is away on location. You bring the family now and the press is marveling over the change in Dieter Bravo’s behavior. “Happy Thanksgiving everyone.” You raise your glass of wine but you don’t take a sip, smiling at Dieter mischievously. “Next year we will need to set another place at the table.” You announce. “Baby Bravo number three will be coming to a nursery near you in April.”
Your mom’s eyes widen as much as Debra’s and she grins, “that’s - that’s incredible, baby!” She cries and tears fill her eyes. “Oh my loves. Another baby.” Debra coos and reaches out to caress Dieter’s cheek before she smiles at you. “I’m so happy you both came back together.” Your mom sighs, loving how you and Dieter have worked everything out.
It hasn’t been easy, there have been times when you’ve been angry at Dieter, but he’s sober, you attend couples counseling and he has become your rock. “Thanksgiving miracles, huh?”
Dieter nods, “our miracles.” He murmurs, reaching for your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. You all dig in to the food and soon the kids are in bed after everyone is full, the house is clean, and your moms are watching tv. “You ready for bed, babe?” You ask and Dieter glances at the clock. “It’s only eight.” He frowns until you raise your eyebrows and his eyes widen, “oh yeah. I’m tired. We are going upstairs. Wifey needs all the rest she can get.” Dieter teases and your moms say goodnight while Dieter takes your hand and guides you upstairs.
You snort playfully and reach around him to slap his ass. “You almost didn’t get the drift.” You tease him. “And I thought you always knew when someone wanted sex.” Dieter huffs at you. “I didn’t think you would want it tonight.” He whines, defending himself.
You chuckle, “you know how horny I get when I’m pregnant.” You remind him and Dieter snorts, “but you’ve had turkey and pie.” He defends himself again as you make your way to the room you used to live in when you first got married. He opens the door and closes it behind you, groaning as he surges forward to press his lips to yours.
The years apart and the life that Dieter had lived in LA had just given him new skills to use on you. While it wasn’t perfect, you have to take the good with the bad. The good is that you have Dieter completely. Your arms wind around him and pull him close as you moan softly.
His hands are gentle but firm as he slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, pulling you against him as he hardens in his sweats. “Fuck. I love you.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he guides you backwards to the bed.
“I love you too.” You promise, trusting that he will make you feel amazing. “How do you feel about another baby?” You ask as you fall back into the bed.
“Happy as fuck.” He admits, “we have money. We have a big enough house. We can have as many babies as you want.” He teases as you lower to the bed and he shifts to kneel between your legs, “and you’re so fucking beautiful full of our babies.”
You have discovered that Dieter has kinks surrounding having kids now. Breeding, pregnancy, lactation kinks all have made for some amazing nights. You love the confidence that it gives you when he works with some of the most beautiful people in the world. He’s now the one that is showing pictures of his kids to his co-stars and inviting them to meet you, rather than asking if they want to do a line of coke with him. “You just love proving you aren’t sterile.” You tease, reminding him of The Inquisitor article that claimed all your children were born via sperm donor.
He snorts, “all conceived on my cock, baby.” He declares smugly and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, dragging it over your head. “You are gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs as he bends down to kiss your stomach, not quite a bump yet.
You hum, running your fingers through his hair again like he loves. He’s always sweet and considerate while you are pregnant and this will be your last baby, so it’s a special time for both of you. “All yours.” You promise.
He’s gonna get the snip before you have the baby, just so this is your last baby, and it’s bittersweet but he is going to enjoy every moment. He hooks his fingers in your leggings, dragging them down your legs and he groans when the scent of your arousal hits his nose. You’re so sensitive when you’re pregnant and he loves it. “All mine. And I’m yours. All of me.” He promises as he tosses your leggings aside and surges down to press his nose against your clit through your panties.
“Deeee.” You moan softly, loving the devoted look on his face as he looks up towards you. “I know I have you baby.” You promise, smiling down at him. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He murmurs and hooks his finger in your panties, leaning in to slide his tongue through your folds. He loves the tang of your arousal when you’re pregnant. You taste sweeter somehow and he groans, reaching for your thigh to push it further away so he can slide his tongue into your cunt.
Whimpering with Dieter’s tongue inside you is as natural as breathing. Closing your eyes and letting him eat you out because he wants to. He loves doing down on you and hearing his name break from your lips. “Fuck baby, I love you.” You pant. “Deee.”
He loves hearing you moan his name. He laps at you, wanting to show you how much he loves you through his tongue. One hand caresses your stomach and the other pushes your thigh back to spread you more so he can bury his face In your pussy.
He loves hearing you moan his name. He laps at you, wanting to show you how much he loves you through his tongue. One hand caresses your stomach and the other pushes your thigh back to spread you more so he can bury his face In your pussy.
You don’t have to worry about waking the kids up, they are used to sleeping through anything although it’s usually just dinner parties and the two of you having sex. “Fuck, Dieter.” You moan. “Want to cum all over that stupidly handsome face of yours.”
He chuckles into your folds, knowing he's getting wrinkly and despite his co-stars in Hollywood investing in plastic surgery, he is surprisingly not interested in preventing aging. He is happy to be old beside you. His tongue laps at your clit, wanting you to fall apart for him.
Your hormones make you sensitive and in no time you are crying out in pleasure. Gasping out his name as your thighs cinch down around his head and your body shakes in pleasure.
He groans when you squeeze his head between your thighs, his hand reaching for yours as he works you through it. His cock is aching and he grinds against the mattress while he works you through your orgasm.
Dieter doesn’t stop until you are gasping and pushing his head away from you, clit aching from his attention and he pulls away with a playful smack to his lips. “I need you inside me.” You beg, reaching down and pulling him up. “I need my husband.”
He groans, shifting to hover above you, and he lets you pull his shirt over his head. He pushes his sweatpants down and his hard cock bounces as he kicks them aside while you throw his shirt on the floor. “Like this?” He asks, caressing your side and when you nod, he shifts to kneel between your legs, “I love you.” He murmurs as he grips his cock and positions himself at your cunt to push inside you.
The stretch of him is something that you will always love. Moaning as he fills you with a smooth, steady thrust that doesn’t stop until he is buried to the hilt and both of you are breathless. “Fuck.” You whimper, caressing his back as you squeeze him tight. “Feels so good baby.”
Dieter groans as he twitches inside you. You’re so damn hot and wet around his cock. “Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Marry me again.” He murmurs, keeping still inside you.
You’re surprised when he says that. You’ve talked about it before, several times. He had always said that you should renew your vows, but you’ve never really planned anything else. “You want that?”
He nods as he stays still above you. “I want to renew our vows. Either before or after you have the baby. Whenever you want. I want a proper wedding. We got married at the courthouse when we were so young and I want to give you the wedding you deserve. A dress and a cake and - and a party like no one has seen.”
You giggle quietly. “It will have to be after the baby is born then.” You huff, knowing that while he has the money to pull off a wedding in weeks, you would rather enjoy the entire event rather than feeling rushed. “We’ll sell the pictures to People.” You tease, reaching up and caressing his face. “I love you.”
He snorts, nudging his nose with yours, “this will be for us. Our friends and family.” He promises and starts to move inside you. “I love you. So damn much.” He murmurs, sliding his hand up to squeeze your breast, shifting his weight to one arm.
He keeps his pace slow and loving, wanting you to enjoy it and sometimes the harsher thrusts aren’t what you want. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you move with him. Enjoying the way he fills you and never leaves you empty for too long. Slow lovemaking. “I love you too.”
He loves how you wrap yourself around him and he keeps his weight off your stomach while he rocks into you. It’s slow and sweet and he kisses along your jaw while he murmurs how beautiful you are. He knows how to make you moan and he grinds into your cunt, shifting his hips until he finds the angle that makes you moan his name. “That’s it, baby.” He coos, his back starting to ache but he keeps moving.
You breathlessly moan for him, finding it so sexy how he keeps the pressure up just like you need it. You know that his back is hurting and yet he keeps rocking into you at the same angle. “So good baby.”
He keeps the pace and angle as he pushes into you, wanting to feel you fall apart beneath him. He groans your name, “baby. Baby. Cum for me.” He demands, pressing his lips to your jaw, his breath puffing against your skin.
You let go of him and reach between you, pinching your nipple and making yourself fall over the edge. Crying out softly, your cunt starts to spasm around his cock and soak it with your juices.
He groans against your jaw as you cum around him, clamping down on his cock and he hisses. “Fuck baby. Feel so goddamn good. I - shit - I love you.” He murmurs, rocking you through it.
You whimper, eyes closed and your fingers dig into his shoulder. “Cum for me.” You beg softly. “I want you to fill me up.”
He grunts in response, thrusting into you at a sloppier pace than before as he feels that tingling in the base of his spine. His lips press against yours as he buries himself deep after several thrusts, muffling his groan while he paints your walls with his cum.
Even when he’s exhausted and happily riding out his high, Dieter collapses to his side so he doesn’t press too much of his weight on you. More considerate than anyone would have ever believed the selfish bad boy of Hollywood could be. “I love you.” You whisper in his ear with a smile on your face. “Happy Thanksgiving, love.” Thanksgiving had been a heavy burden for you, a reminder of your husband leaving you for years until he had come back to you on that same holiday. Now, you both give thanks for being together and more in love than ever. You accomplished both of your dreams and now all of them you still work towards are ones you want to accomplish together.
#pedro pascal#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo imagine#dieter bravo fanfiction
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Parental custod
✨️Imagine✨️
Max rolls his eyes when he sees Jack making his way towards him during the drivers parade.
Don't get him wrong. He's glad that there are so many rookies on the starting grid, but he would trade them all for one particular person. It doesn't help that Jack looks too much like Daniel, with his accent, a little hairstyle, and a big nose. The wrong nose, the wrong hair, the wrong Australian that Max wants to spend time with.
"Hi Max!" says Jack, with too much enthusiasm and an awkward smile. "You...Listen, I'm sorry to bother you, but could you help me?"
He looks like Max is his only and last option. He could have turned to anyone. Lewis would have helped him for sure, and so would Fernando, but Jack came to Max. Max sighs, apparently not so well hiding his fatigue and unwillingness to help the Australian because Jack's facial expressions change. Now he looks like a scared kid in a mall who turned to a security because he got lost.
"Ya...I didn't want to bother you, but... Daniel doesn't answer my calls, and it seems that I write to him too much..."
Yes, he really is a lost child... a child whose "father" did not come to his first competition. Max's thoughts go back to the days when he himself followed Daniel, looking for every opportunity to talk to him, touch him. He was teased, called a "duckling," but Max was too blinded by this sunny man to somehow protect himself from attacks.
"How can I help you?"
✨️✨️✨️
Max returns to his room after the race. He collapsed on the sofa and hoped to sit in silence for a couple of minutes before having to return to the circus, but the silence was broken by the ringing of his phone. After seeing the caller's name, he can't ignore it.
"Your 'son'..." - Max puts emphasis on the word 'son' - "...the whole parade of drivers terrorized me." He says before Daniel has time to greet him.
"Come on, you look cute in all these photos," Max hears him smirking, but there's something else to it. Max doesn't give himself time to think about it. "And judging by the comments, you're his "dad." Have you called Seb yet? Did he give you a couple of tips for a novice grid dad? I'm sure he knows a couple of great places that serve the best ice cream after a crappy race."
Max blames fatigue after the race and jet lag for his next words.
"We could share custody of Jack, you know? In the end, yes, he has your nose, but the hair is definitely mine."
There is a silence that Max dreamed of, but which he now hates. He hears Daniel's short laugh, wants to know what's in his head right now, hates not hearing him, hates not seeing him most of all.
"Um...you know...such issues are worth discussing personally. Maybe...Maybe you'll come to my farm and we'll... distribute our parental responsibilities?"
"Just buy a normal beer, I won't drink that donkey urine anymore."
"Come on, it can't be worse than sweaty champagne from a shoe."
#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#max/daniel#maxiel#mv1#dr3#somebody write this please#rookie on tumblr
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If it's alright I would like to ask advice from tarot card if I should continue my school or should I drop out and study something I love studying, even though it's not the easiest path?
Okay so this is a major life decision which you should definitely not base on tarot cards. But I'm guessing you've already given it thoughts and is really just looking for some perspective.
Either way I'm not going to tell you what to do.
The thing with tarot cards is that... they can't actually predict the future, at least not in my hands. They can, however, give you clarity on what you already know. So I'll ask some leading questions instead and let you figure it out.
What's the most important thing to you: The Fool (Creativity, inspiration)
An aspect you need to consider: The Tower (cataclysm, destabilization, change)
Another aspect you need to consider: The Empress (Mother, abundance, home)
HOW to make this decision: Reverse nine of swords (Inner turmoil, anxiety, recovery)
Okay... sorry... you've definitely already considered these aspects but... Clearly being inspired by your area of study is very important to you.
I think overall this reading is telling you to really be prepared for change. Know that it won't be smooth sailing and be ready for it if you want to take the leap. The Empress reminds you to really consider the opinion of your family (your mother?), and your financial stability. (With the wheat.) These may not be most important in your heart but you need to consider them. Think through how you wanna communicate with your family on what's important to you. (It may also provide a solution, maybe your family can be your safety net if you get them on your side.)
Finally... Yeah it does seem like there's significant inner turmoil between what you want and what you should consider...
I drew another card to clarify... It is Emperor in reverse. Which generally mean an issue with control, too much or too little. I think in this case, in relation to anxiety, it may mean that you're a bit too hard on yourself. Perhaps reassess which of your fears are founded in reality. But don't ignore them.
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Could you do something about the drivers' new girlfriend who is obsessed with the reader? Who is the driver's ex-girlfriend? and eventually the driver's and reader end up together again. (a little inspired by Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo
Hello !! I really struggle to choose between the drivers but I ended up choosing Lando (it's no longer surprising). Hope this suits your request, enjoy ! ᥫ᭡
OBSESSED
( when your ex' new girlfriend become obsessed with you, you know you have win everything. )
warning : angst, fluff, some toxic behavior, like two innuendos
note : sorry to all the Maddie it's just the first name that came up on my mind 🫰
word count : 1.9k
You're sure this whole thing has been going on for a few weeks now. And you don't know when it's going to end. It's been several weeks since your relationship with your ex-boyfriend Lando ended. And he's had a new girlfriend for several weeks now.
Sitting in front of a table on a terrace, near the Mclaren building in the paddock, you can't help but stare at your ex and the brunette girl in his arms, walking hand in hand along the path. Her long hair styled in a magnificent bun, her model figure, her confident walk.
You can't help but imagine yourself in his place. Because after all, a few weeks ago, it was you in this place. It was you who walked alongside Lando, who came to support him on all his races, who was proudly in love with him. And his new girlfriend simply replaced you. Because she is also the reason for your breakup.
Everything was perfect in your relationship. You were madly in love with each other and incredibly happy. He gave you the world and in return you gave him everything he couldn't have dreamed of. You were simply soulmates, made for each other. Until this brunette comes and ruins everything.
You knew she was friends with Lando. However, it was absolutely no problem for you. She's not the first girl he's had as friends and you can't deny the fact that you have a few guy friends as well. You trusted each other with your eyes closed so there was nothing to worry about her.
But when she started to interfere in your life, your personal relationship, when she started to get closer to Lando at a maddening speed and when she stole his precious time so that you remained the one who finally spent less time with him, you knew there was a big problem.
And that this problem is indeed her.
It's as if the roles had been reversed, and in the end you gradually became a simple friend, while she in turn became his new girlfriend. You couldn't take it anymore, even though Lando tried to reassure you about her and her actions.
He himself didn't want her.
But it was so suffocating that you finally put an end to it. You knew that at the time of your separation, when you said those words to him that broke his heart into a million pieces, you still had powerful feelings for each other, but love isn't everything.
And here you are now in this situation. You being his ex, staring at him and his new girlfriend when you just came to support the Mclaren driver. Lando has publicly announced that you have remained on good terms and are good friends, which is why you sometimes come to the races. But the reality is there: you don't even look at each other once.
Because if Lando does, he knows he won't be able to let you go. And if you do, you won't be able to hold back either.
“Huh, what is she doing here again?” Maddie, the driver's new girlfriend, mocks your presence as her vicious gaze glares at you. "Hmm ?" Lando frowns, curious. He tries to follow Maddie's gaze, and his eyes end up landing on the woman he deep down still hopes will always be his.
“I already told you to forbid her from coming to the races.” She adds. The driver rolls his eyes and sighs, not taking his gaze away from you. It seems that you are strangely attracted to your phone. "I know, but... we're still friends, she has every right to com-" "Friends? You don't even talk to each other, and it's even she who decided to break up with you."
Lando clenches his fist and his jaw. “And because of whom do you think?” He looks at her coldly, while Maddie can feel a deep fury just by looking at his eyes. She was about to retaliate when suddenly Lando fans came to surround you. "Y/N!! I love you, can I take a picture with you?"
You slowly raise your head, surprised to see three young girls smiling pleasantly at you, waiting for a response from you. You finally realize the situation, and you show them your biggest sincere smile. It warms your heart, knowing that despite the hate you received after breaking up, there are still people there to support you.
Of course, they may be fans of your ex, but the fact remains that they are all simply adorable, and you can't help but be grateful to them, because after all these people support the boy that you love so much.
“Thank you so much, sweethearts” You can't help but giggle and even chat a little with these girls. But while you're enjoying this intimate moment, you obviously can't notice Maddie's dark and unhealthy gaze on you. She kills you with her gaze, while jealousy takes over her entire being.
For what ? Why can't she be like you? Why can't she be you? What does Lando like about you? What can she do to be like you? She would lose her mind. She scrutinizes each of your actions. She records each of your actions and gestures in order to copy them with the exact same precision.
It's toxic but she can't help it, for her it's vital and essential. She is obsessed with you, with everything you do, with your whole person. You're her current boyfriend's ex, and she knows how much he's still in love with you, so she's trying any way she can to be like you. She just wants to be better than you. But she can't.
And you know she can't. Just look at the way Lando looks at you, eyes full of love and admiration, as you listen attentively to the fans in front of you. Lando himself knows, no girl will be like you.
-
"No but seriously, she's doing it again!! Is this the how manyth time this week?" Your best friend is almost going to tear her hair out. Maddie's latest Instagram post has the exact same types of photos you posted last week, and her stories are identical to yours. You sigh, running your hands over your face. “Look, maybe she didn’t do it on purpose, it’s probably a coincidence.” You try to convince yourself.
"A coincidence? You still manage to defend your ex's new girlfriend while she does everything to discredit you!" Your best friend looks completely hopeless as she plops down on the couch in your hotel room. “Don’t tell me otherwise, Y/n. She’s wearing the exact same outfit as you in her post.”
“Maybe we just have the same taste in clothes, we don’t know.” Your best friend looks at you with empathy. She gets up from the couch and places her hands on your shoulders, caressing them gently. "Look Y/n, I know you're way too nice to be mad at anyone. But this girl is so obsessed with you, it's super toxic and unhealthy."
You can't deny your friend's words. In recent weeks, she has only copied you and used the same expressions and facial expressions as you. She only hints at you. Why is she so obsessed with you when you don't care about her?
It eats you from the inside. You've been thinking about it lately and it's almost sickening. Your best friend seems to have noticed it too. "I know what you need. I'm going to buy your favorite snacks and we're going to have a relaxing evening together tonight, okay?".
She does not wait for your approval since you already know you have no choice. And without another word, she rushes out of the hotel to go buy your favorite snacks. “What a life…”, you sigh before opening your phone again, coming face to face with Maddie’s latest insta post.
As you were about to open the comment section, you heard voices raised. As if two people were arguing with each other. You remain paralyzed for a moment, before finally continuing what you were starting to do. But as soon as you go back to your phone, the voices continue to shout and be heard louder and louder.
Panic rises within you. Maybe there is a real problem after all? You approach the door of your room to try to hear better, but without being aware of it you end up opening it, opening onto the long empty corridor upstairs.
Listening carefully, you know that the voices are coming from the room directly across from yours. But you also, and unfortunately, recognize Lando's voice. You can recognize it among thousands of voices, and you are sure that the male voice is him.
A higher pitched, more feminine voice mixes with the driver's voice. Without realizing it, you are now standing a few centimeters from their hotel room, facing the door. But you can hear perfectly what they say to each other. Despite their voices muffled by the walls, you manage to make out a few sentences.
“I mean, why are you so obsessed with her?” Lando shouts even louder. He's really fed up. "I'm not obsessed with her Lando!!" "Oh, so why are you trying to copy everything she does? Why do I always see you stalking her social media, location and contacts?" He continues to rise.
This last sentence makes her speechless. “She broke up with you, so I’m looking at her social media to find out why” Lando lets out a mocking laugh. Did he hear correctly? "Because you still haven't understood that it's because of you that she broke up with me? It's all your fault but you continue to play blind!!".
Lando's furious voice brings silence to their hotel room. It seems Maddie has stopped screaming. "I should never have accepted this PR stunt. I would have received hate but at least I could have been with Y/n right now, with the woman I truly love with all my heart and not a girl who is hopelessly obsessed with a woman much better than her.”
Several minutes of silence follow, but the din of your heartbeat seems to echo throughout the hallway. They were arguing about you. The reason for their argument is you. And Lando talked about you. He confessed information you didn't even know. That you didn't know.
He still loves you, and the whole damn new girlfriend thing is really just a PR stunt. So, everything is clear now.
You gradually regain consciousness, but the bedroom door suddenly flies open, Lando stands in front of you looking completely furious. But when his gaze falls on you, his body language shows that he is already relaxing a little more.
“Oh, Y-Y/n…” You lower your head, ashamed that he surprised you like this. He's not sure what to say as an awkward silence settles. “Did you…hear what we said?” You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze. "You were screaming so...yes. I heard everything." “Oh, okay…”
He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed and very uncomfortable. “Maybe we should talk then” He suddenly offers and you lift your head to nod. "Yes, that would be better. In my hotel room if you want."
You both go back to your room, and Lando sits directly on the couch, while you join him by sitting a little further away, leaving a reasonable distance between you.
“I meant it. I meant every word I said, Y/n.” You nod to encourage him to continue. "Of course I think Maddie is completely obsessed with you and you must have realized that." He plays with his fingers nervously as he lowers his head. "But I also meant the fact that I still love you. So much. I'm still so in love with you that it hurts me to know that I can't wake up next to you anymore. I still want you so bad and I need you in my life. I know that our story doesn't have the right to end now and that it won't end until we're old and in love."
You wipe away a tear that had just formed in the corner of your eye as you take Lando's hands in yours. You can't suppress a small laugh - or rather a sob - as you smile lovingly at him. “Fucking PR stunt, huh?” He smiles shyly, his eyes watering from the tears that threaten to fall down his face.
“Yeah, fucking PR stunt and fucking crazy girl” He answers and you end up laughing softly. Your hands came up to cup his face as you moved closer to him, your hearts almost touching. "I still love you so much Lando. And I need you too. I'm sorry I broke up with you. I must have broken your heart and-"
"Don't apologize when it's not your fault, sweetheart. I should have cut ties with her a long time ago." He places a small but sweet kiss on your forehead. “I have the best girlfriend again and I have absolutely no plans to part with her.” You smile tenderly as you roll on top of him. “Good, because me neither.”
You kiss him gently on his lips, while he puts his arm around your waist and brings your head closer with his hand to deepen the kiss. He can't stop kissing your soft lips, because he missed it so much, he can't resist.
He slowly pulls away so he can just get a clear view of your face, while resting his nose on yours. “In the end I think I’m the one who’s completely obsessed with you baby.” You giggle, stealing a little kiss from him. “No need to tell me, I already knew that. A certain fake account of yours on Instagram was only watching my stories”.
He blushed violently at your words. "Fuck. Am I really a bad stalker?" “Well, not as bad as Maddie.” He bursts out laughing and tightens his embrace around you. “Good to know I'm better than that girl” He ends up diving back in for another kiss, this time more intense and more passionate.
He moans weakly as he lets himself into the kiss. Suddenly, the bedroom door bursts open to reveal your best friend. You both look at her, surprised. But to your relief, she rolls her eyes in a mocking grin and half-closes the door, before adding, "I think I'm finally going to cancel the netflix and chill and leave you to a romantic sex night."
You throw a cushion from the couch at her, but she manages to dodge. “Fuck you!” You shout at her as she continues to make fun of you. “You should say that to me, right?” Your boyfriend gives you a mischievous grin full of innuendo. You gently hit him on the chest as your best friend finally leaves, closing the door.
“Tomorrow, she is dead” You add, already thinking about what revenge you are going to prepare for her. “I think you're the one who will be dead after what I'll do to you tonight” Lando continues to add in order to tease you and despite your annoyance, you can’t help but giggle shyly. “But first, I want to cuddle you” You tell him before pecking his lips.
“I don’t ask for anything more” He ends up confessing before kissing you again, not being able to hold back the smile that forms on his lips.
After all, maybe it's true. Lando is ultimately the most obsessed with you. But as long as it's him, you know it'll never be a problem for you.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4 imagine#lando norris fluff#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff
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shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri
Dia's Diner Menu
shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare
Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader
TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping
WC: 2k
A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.
Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.
Why was this the worst night of my life?
We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off.
“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”
I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”
She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”
Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”
Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”
The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”
“It’s fine just put me in a -”
“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”
Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.
Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.
We have hated each other ever since.
“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.
“What!?”
Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”
✿ ✿ ✿
“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.
“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.
“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.
Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”
“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”
“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.
“Shame it’s not fatal.”
✿ ✿ ✿
This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.
With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.
One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.
I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.
I came to a realization about three things, so goes:
Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.
He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.
He was grinding his very much hard cock into me - in his sleep.
My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.
I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.
I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.
The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.
A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.
He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”
The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”
“Wasn’t,” I whispered.
“What was that?” He growled into my ear.
“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.
His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Fuck you.”
“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”
Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.
I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.
I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”
In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare.
Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”
“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.
“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”
I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”
His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.
Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”
I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.
He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.
“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.
“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.
I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”
“That was one time!”
I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”
Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.
#f1 fic#dia's diner#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#op81 x reader#op81#op81 imagine#op81 fic#formula one#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one smut#formula 1#op81 smut#op81 x you#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x y/n
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out of my head ✮ l.hs [m]
✮ synopsis: years after your friendship with heeseung has begun crumbling, you ask him to be part of one of the biggest days of your life - your wedding day.
✮ genre: estranged best friends to ??? ; semi-unrequited lovers au ; angst ; fluff
✮ pairing: singer!lee heeseung x financial advisor!fem!reader ; sim jaeyun x reader
✮ word count: 10.4k (yikes...)
✮ rating: nc-17.
✮ warning(s): ...kissing? lol? a lot of hurt with no comfort, semi-unrequited lovers, wedding superstitions, mentions of having kids.
✮ playlist: off my face - justin bieber ; are we still friends? - tyler, the creator ; your eyes only - enhypen ; this is why i need you - jesse ruben.
✮ a/n: i'm a yapper sorry, but happiest birthday to heeseung <3 that's my pookie! i love u.
four months ago.
"you're getting married?"
you and heeseung had been best friends for nearly twenty years. the two of you met at a park during a winter storm, both of you having begged your mothers for a chance to go see the snow. a coincidence really, the two of you having somehow lived the same experience (one that heeseung was convinced was fate, while you just boiled it down to two four-year-old kids giving into the natural urge to plunge their grubby little fingers into cold, unforgiving snow.)
however, in the last few years, you'd grown apart.
you were freshly out of university, and heeseung had recently taken a job as a backup vocalist for one of the local entertainment companies. he'd been a singer his entire life, something you never allowed yourself to pick up because your mother had always taught you that safety nets were better. while heeseung openly explored his talents, eventually learning guitar and slowly, piano - you buried yourself in mathematical equations that made your brain hurt but forced yourself through it all because, after all, you needed a plan.
heeseung lived life on the edge. he didn't care if he had money, if he had belongings - life was more than that to him. he ventured out into the city with nothing but his headphones sometimes, not even so much as bothering to bring an umbrella if it looked like rain. "if i get soaked, i get soaked! life is more than staying inside with your head heavy from studying." he told you once, and you had just shaken your head.
"come on, y/n! don't you want to dance in the rain? don't you want to risk getting sick and having your mom make you that soup you really like? live a little, life is too short to waste away in our bedrooms." he tugged you out of your house that day, making you leave your phone behind as you trekked the entire city by foot, and once the rain did start falling, you were a mile from your house. "heeseung, i can't get sick! i have a presentation–"
"screw that presentation! live in the now!" he held you close as the rain pelted your backs, spinning you around as your laughter echoed in the neighborhood. "isn't this fun! aren't you enjoying this newfound freedom, no expectations? no logarithms, no polynomials!" he exclaimed, making you only laugh harder. "hee, i'm a finance major. that is fun for me!"
"and i'm a y/n major, i know you fucking hate math!" he giggled as he set you down, his fingers brushing your wet hair off your face. "i don't have things like you do, hee! i need a plan, i need something to fall back on. you work to make money to invest into yourself, you don't follow dreams!" you say as the two of you make the route back to your house, making him scoff.
"are you saying i'm wasting my time living the way i do?" he asked, a twang of hurt in his voice going unnoticed by you as you nodded. "i do. i think you are wasting your potential." your words pierced him, but he said nothing more as the two of you reached your mom's house. "see you later, hee."
"see you later."
that had happened three years ago. heeseung noticeably distanced himself after that day, limiting your hangouts to once a week instead of dropping by whenever he felt like it. soon, what were weekly hangouts became biweekly, before you were only meeting him for dinner on a random wednesday night in the middle of the month. you never asked so he never explained, and he simply assumed your silence on the subject meant that your puzzle of a life no longer had a need for a lee heeseung-shaped piece.
it pained him to think that you were outgrowing him.
heeseung was taking classes while working, having finally let your words get to him. you were right, in a way - he couldn't live his life on the edge forever, but the fact that you actually said that to him after constantly reassuring him that you believed in him was...unexpected, to say the least.
"she's just worried about you, hee." his older brother rattled, and heeseung shook his head. he had long told him about that day, and continued to try and decipher it for the years after. he didn’t really understand why it bothered him so much, but his only guess was the same — you had pretended to have an interest in his life, but yet, just like everyone else…
…you had no faith in him.
“yes, hee, i’m getting married! focus!” you tapped your pen on the notepad in front of you, the ice in your matcha long melted. heeseung was gripping his mug of hot chocolate for dear life, wondering where he missed the fact that you were even in a relationship to begin with. “i didn’t even know you had a boyfriend, forgive me for being curious.” he scoffs, making you roll your eyes.
“you would know if you answered any of my calls.” you say pointedly, making him groan. “okay, sorry i’ve been so absent from your life. what’s this guy’s name anyway?”
“sim jaeyun. you can call him jake.” you scribble something onto the notepad, before tearing it off and handing it to him. “this is his number, you’re going to have to talk to him at some point for what i’m about to ask you.”
your smile is mischievous, one that heeseung could never forget. it was engraved in his memory, it lit up his dreams and haunted his nightmares. the same smile he’s written endless lyrics about, the same smile he’s fallen in love with but refused to admit it.
“y/n, i haven’t seen you in six months. how can someone possibly gauge if a person is marriage material in such a short time?” he argues as he folds the scrap of yellow paper. you huff with a frustrated look on your face, “jaeyun and i have been seeing each other for a year! we made it official nine months ago, and we’ve been engaged for three months! i told you this already!”
“when the fuck did you even mention him!?” he groans, and you click your pen angrily.
"hee, if you hadn't been so focused on your own life, you'd be up to date with mine." grimacing, you reach into the knapsack you brought with you. pulling out a pink binder, you set it on the table, facing him. the paper sheet behind the vinyl reads the sims - may 2026.
he snorts inwardly, before you open the binder. "i know we haven't been as close as we'd like the past few years." you start, clearing your throat as he glances at you. you pull apart the binder rings, pulling out a folder as you continue to speak. "but, i know that you're still doing the singing thing, and i wanted to offer you a gig."
sliding the folder across to him, he glances down at it. it's thick with pieces of printer paper, lyrics typed neatly in times new roman. he recognizes the first song as he slips it out of the folder, his eyes scanning the sheet over and over.
"you want me to sing at your wedding?" he asks incredulously, and you take a sip of your watered down matcha. you press your lips together as you nod, staring at your fingers. "i showed jaeyun some clips of yours from a few of your other gigs, and he really liked it. this is our song, and we want you to sing it for our first dance." you tap the paper with your pen, and heeseung sighs.
"then why are we here alone? why isn't he here, showing face and asking me with you?" he accuses, and your frown is deep enough that he's sure you're about to throw your drink at him. "he's at work, if you must know. he's busy."
"and what does he work in that he can't come with his future wife to a measly two-hour lunch?" he taps his finger on the table, his eyes boring into yours, searching for any sign of the best friend he'd become estranged from. you weren't there.
"he's..." you bite your lip, staring at whatever was behind him in order not to meet his eyes. he looks at you pointedly, brows raised in expectation - a look he'd always hated from other people. you grimace before responding. "he's a singer, he's recording his album right now." heeseung blinks slowly, something you knew meant he was about to either get up and leave, or he was going to scold you once he processed the information. your best friend was nothing short of an open book, but as he looked down at the sheet in his hand and shook his head, you suddenly couldn't read him anymore.
"after all the shit you gave me." his tongue drips with poison before he shoves the sheet of paper back in the folder, tapping it with his hand before grimacing. "when is the wedding? do i have to be there for the whole thing?" his eyes are full of fire as he stares at you, and you can feel yourself shrink under his gaze. heeseung was rarely ever mad at you, even during these years of estrangement. you were never really on the receiving end of his anger, so you never handled it. "may second. you don't have to stay, if you don't want to. but i'd love for you to be there." your words are softer than you intended, and you can really feel the tug on the invisible string that ties the two of you together.
he nods, pressing his lips together as you watch his eyes brim with tears. "okay." he looks away as the first tear falls, wiping it away quickly before getting up. "just…send me the address when the time comes." he tucks the folder under his arm as he quickly walks away, trying not to let any more tears fall as he exits the cafe.
he can't help but hold everything in as he walks to his apartment, his mind spinning with potential thoughts. when did you get so far? how did he let you stray so deeply, and where did you even meet this guy? why didn't you tell him sooner? or did you, and he just blocked it out? he can't remember, no matter how hard he skims his memory. "fuck!" he screams as he slams his door shut, throwing the folder onto the table in the foyer.
he slides down the door, a sinking feeling taking over his stomach as he hits the cold tile. he can't help but sob into his hands, his shoulders shaking violently as he does. you're getting married and he missed the entire thing, he's missed the past year of your life and has no remorse in doing so. he only feels sorry now, now that he's realized he's too late.
april 30.
heeseung was increasingly stressed.
you had told him over text (because he wouldn't answer your calls) that he had to take the week off so he could participate in bonding activities with your fiancé's groomsmen. he'd been reluctant, and said he'd get there the thursday before the wedding, nothing sooner – making you upset. he didn't care, he wouldn't lie to himself – he felt betrayed that you were getting married to someone else. it was childish of him and he knew it, but as he aimlessly wandered jeju island alone – it only sank deeper into his bones that he had truly fucked up.
he didn't bother to bond with any of your bridesmaids, either – despite their starry eyes and warm smiles, he could only see the dread in your eyes, the twitch in your lower lip as you greeted your guests with your fiancé. he kept his hand on your lower back at all times, and heeseung wonders if jake knows that he did that in the past. heeseung wonders if jake knows that he held your hand as you both skipped through the sand on family vacations with your families, heeseung wonders if jake knows that he shared a bed with you on nights where thunderstorms would scare you out of your sleep and heeseung would run the three blocks to your house to comfort you.
heeseung wonders if jake knows that he was your first kiss, in the back of heeseung's '96 civic when you were both juniors in high school. heeseung wonders if jake knows that he is in love with you, and that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop.
not that jake knowing any of this would matter, because come saturday night, you'd be out of his grasp forever. he would never place his hand on the small of your back to ease your nerves, he would never hold your hand, he would never share a bed with you. he would never kiss you again, and he'd rather never see you again if it were up to him.
but it wasn't, was it? "heeseung! you made it!"
heeseung turns to see park sunghoon walking towards him with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "oh shit, hey! i didn't think you and y/n kept in touch after high school, it's great to see you." heeseung greets him, and sunghoon snorts.
"we didn't, actually. jaeyun and i go way back." sunghoon nods. sunghoon had been a friend of the two of you, but it was hard to keep in touch due to his prominent ice skating career. he was always busy, and it was easier to cut ropes than continuously make promises to see each other only to fall short.
"i'm sorry i didn't reach out more." heeseung starts, but sunghoon shakes his head. "don't even worry about it! my life was too crazy to keep tabs on everybody." sunghoon shakes his head, and heeseung tilts his head at him. "was?" sunghoon shifts in the sand, picking his cuticles as he sighs. "i had to quit, i got injured pretty badly during the finale of my last competition. i won, though, so at least i went out with a bang." he shrugs, and heeseung can see the disappointment in his eyes before offering a hug. "i'm sorry, hoon. that really fucking sucks."
sunghoon rejects the hug with a shake of his head. "it's fine, i'm doing other things now. i work as a backup vocalist for jake, me and jay. oh, jay's here, too! have you seen him?" sunghoon gestures to the air, and heeseung offers a small smile before shaking his head. "haven't seen him yet. to be honest, i don't want to be here." heeseung's confession, if surprising, doesn't seem to faze sunghoon. instead, the younger boy nods. "i figured you wouldn't. you're singing for them, right? i heard through the grapevine." sunghoon smirks, and heeseung rolls his eyes before lightly punching his arm. "stop lying, you brat. you read it on the wedding program."
sunghoon gives him a soft pat on the back, before leaning closer. "she wasn't going to wait forever, heeseung." with a curt nod, sunghoon continues down the beach towards the resort, leaving heeseung with wide eyes and a heavy heart. what did he mean by that?
🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊
the night was heavy as the last of your guests straggled in, and your feet were swelling in your shoes from standing for so long. jake had offered to take over as you went up to your room to change them, and you were internally thanking him as you hobbled to the elevator.
only for you to arrive and see your best friend waiting there calmly, headphones over his ears as he softly nods along to whatever is playing. he looks up when the elevator finally opens, completely oblivious to your lingering presence behind him. it's only when you get in after him, feeling the shift of the elevator's floor, that he looks at you.
his eyes are unreadable as he skims them over your face, a soft tilt to his head before he presses button six, hand hovering over the button as he waits for you to speak. you put up five fingers, and he presses it carefully as the doors close. it's silent, and for the first time ever since you were four years old, heeseung feels like a stranger. a polite stranger that presses the elevator button for you, that has come all the way from seoul on a ferry to sing at his estranged best friend's wedding.
except he's not a stranger, and you're the estranged best friend getting married this weekend. you're the estranged best friend who lied about your fiancé being excited for him to sing your first dance song, and you're the estranged best friend who wants it to hurt him. you want it to hurt, seeing you dance with your soon-to-be husband all night, you want it to burn in his chest when the two of you kiss at the end of the aisle.
you want him to ache as badly as you did when he basically abandoned you for no good reason. you want him to stay up all night in tears like you did when he wouldn't answer your calls, you want him to rant passionately about you to whoever gets the privilege of being his girlfriend like you did to jake when the two of you first started dating, and you want him to ignore the questions of if you're in love with each other.
just like you did.
loving heeseung was a thing of the past. he was out of your heart and out of your head, for the most part. you only ever thought of him when you'd talk to jake about old high school stories, skipping over the parts where you and heeseung shared loving caresses that the two of you convinced yourselves were nothing more than platonic. it didn't matter now, though, because there was no piece shaped like you in heeseung's puzzling life anymore.
you love jake. he's your endgame, and you're glad to be marrying him.
"are you excited? big day soon." he says gently, and you can feel your stomach turn as he nudges you with his elbow. you nod, a small smile on your lips as you glance down at your engagement ring. jake had it custom made, a marquise diamond nestled onto a thick gold band. it was a little tight, but you promised yourself you'd get it resized after the wedding.
"very excited. are you nervous? about your performance, i mean?" you ask, genuine concern in your voice as he shakes his head. "just another gig, really. it's special to you, though, so i've been putting my all into the rehearsals." he itches his neck, a nervous tick you'd picked up on through the years. you nod, patting his shoulder gently. the conversation stops as the elevator does, the number five on the elevator's neon sign.
"my stop. i'll see you at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, right? you need to be there." your eyes are pleading, and heeseung can't help but sigh. "i'll try."
the answer doesn't seem to satisfy you, but you nod anyway, turning on your heels to go to your room. the doors close, and he lets out a shaky breath. you're very excited to marry sim jaeyun in less than thirty-six hours. you're very excited to be mrs. sim, you're very excited to have your first dance with your husband to the sound of your best friend's voice singing the song that reminds you and jake of your relationship.
a song that insinuates the two of you are unbelievably high off each other in every which way, and how ruined one of you has made the other for anybody else. but this song doesn't take into consideration how he is ruined for anyone else, how he is in pieces at the mere thought of you wearing white while meeting someone else down the aisle.
he doesn't want to feel like that anymore.
may 01.
"hey! you must be heeseung, i've been waiting forever to meet you!"
heeseung doesn't recognize the voice as he turns, eyes swollen with sleep when he looks to see you, and who he presumes to be sim jaeyun. he nods absently, before glancing at his cup of hot water. he'd stumbled down to the hotel's complimentary lounge, a packet of fennel mint tea in his hand.
"give me a moment, i'm sorry. i'm barely here." he apologizes sheepishly, tearing the bag open and dipping the bag into the cup. he wipes at his eyes once more, before turning to face a smiling jake. "you're jaeyun, right? nice to finally meet you man, y/n has said some awesome things about you."
lies. heeseung doesn't remember a single thing you have ever said about jake, just that he's a singer. but out of courtesy, and jake's business-like grip on his hand, he smiles through it anyway. "i heard that you asked for me specifically. your wedding song is beautiful." heeseung sees you wince out of the corner of his eye as jake looks a bit taken aback. he tilts his head slightly, but goes along with what heeseung now knows is a lie. "i'm glad you could make it. y/n talks a lot about your singing skills, are you working on any projects right now?" your face is pained as heeseung looks you dead in the eyes, "no, i'm just a backup vocalist. i gave up on that dream a while ago." he looks back at jake, who has a sad smile on his face. "the fame, the money…i was never suited for that life, anyway." "i'm sorry to hear that things didn't work out for you." jake sounds genuine, a flash of sadness in his eyes as he shakes heeseung's hand again. "i hope to see you at the rehearsal tonight. have you got a girlfriend? there'll be quite a few people at our singles' table." jake wiggles his brows and heeseung wonders when you're going to speak.
"actually, heeseung won't be able to stay. he's got another gig on sunday." you lie, and jake's eyes widen. "oh, you'll be missing our reception?" "i'll be leaving right after your dance, i do sincerely apologize." heeseung gives jake a sheepish grin, to which jake nods slowly. "that's unfortunate, there's a lot of people you could network with here! take advantage of it, dreams are meant to become reality." jake finalizes, before giving heeseung another warm smile.
"i will do my best! thank you for having me." heeseung says, and you can feel the fake tone of happiness in his voice seep into your bones. you'd been the only person to ever recognize it, and heeseung knows you're aware he used it as he takes the tea bag out of his mug. "i will see you both tonight."
he spins on his heel as he hears jake whisper to you.
"you asked him to sing our song? when? why didn't you tell me?" "we can talk about this later, okay? he's really good, i promise."
🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊
your mother had been staring at heeseung for the last fifteen minutes, and heeseung was almost sure she was trying to figure out if he was who she thought he was. he gave her a small smile and waved, and the moment her eyes lit up, the person in front of her turned.
jake. he frowns as she walks away from him mid-conversation, stumbling over only moments before the rehearsal dinner is set to start.
"sorry, sweetie. i didn't know you and my y/n finally made up! it's so good to see you!" her embrace is crushing, and heeseung doesn't have the heart to tell your mother that you're a horrible liar. you hadn't 'made up' – he was simply doing you a favor, something else you'd lied about. he just smiles as she pulls back, ruffling his hair gently. "love the red, it really suits you." "thank you, auntie. it's nice to see you again." he remains relaxed as he sees her eyes soften. "what's wrong? not ready to see your little girl walk down the aisle?" he teases, and the older woman sighs inwardly. she turns, her shoulder brushing his as they stare into the room full of tipsy bridesmaids and boisterous groomsmen. "if i admit something to you, you'll keep it quiet, right?" she murmurs, and heeseung suddenly feels like this conversation isn't going to be one that favors his unruly feelings for you. "of course, auntie. who am i to tell?" "i always thought you'd be the one to marry my y/n." she sighs, clasping her hands in front of her as her eyes watch jake speaking to you gently as he hands you a glass of wine. heeseung's eyes follow hers and the two of them can see as your face falls and jake quickly moves to hide you from any lingering gazes. "i should go see what's wrong. it's nice to see you, heeseung. please enjoy the wedding!" he nods as your mother quickly crosses the room, her arm around you as jake gets pushed to entertain the guests while you get taken care of. jake looks nervous, and heeseung can't seem to stop his body as he also crosses the room, a small smile on his face. "good evening, jake." "oh, hey! how are you liking the venue so far?" a small flash of relief passes onto his face, and heeseung feels guilty as he shrugs. "it's what i expected for someone like y/n. so floral, so bright. are you sure you had any part in this?" he snickers, and jake laughs genuinely.
"she wouldn't let me even look at the flowers with her. babe, you're going to pick the wrong ones!" he imitates you, and heeseung shakes his head in amusement. you'd always been a bit of a control freak when it came to your visions, and now that your life revolved around financial decisions, you were wound up extra tight. "yeah, she's always been like that." he sighs, and jake doesn't miss the slight tone of sadness.
"listen, i don't know you very well," jake starts, reaching for a bottle of cabernet across the table. he grabs two glasses, uncorking the wine as he leans to pour. "but i want to say thank you." he holds the wine out to heeseung, and he tries not to look curious as he takes it.
"thank you for what?" heeseung asks, and jake gives him a pointed look as he blindly pours his own glass.
"for taking care of y/n all these years. i know you and i probably won't be the best of friends, i'm the first to admit that i'm not very good at sharing her attention." jake grimaces to himself as he replaces the cork into the bottle. "but i'm glad that she has someone as reliable as you, that can just… be there for her. it's a beautiful thing, your friendship."
heeseung almost feels nauseous as jake continues talking about how sweet your lifelong friendship with him seems. it just confirms that you told jake everything and anything you could about it, and based on his mention of jealousy, that includes the first kiss you shared. he can barely hear jake over the sound of his heart beating in his ears, but understands enough when jake pats his shoulder.
"...and i figured i'd be honest. y/n didn't say anything about you singing our song, we had originally planned for sunghoon to sing it with the band we hired. i guess she thought you'd be better for it, and i trust her judgment." jake says, pulling heeseung back in. "oh, i'm sorry." "don't even worry about it, man. hey, why don't you just relax, enjoy the dinner tonight. tomorrow is going to hit us like a fucking train, we should be well rested today." jake nods, and heeseung reciprocates with a gentle smile as someone else calls for jake's attention. "remember, just chill! network!" jake gestures to the room as he walks backwards towards the people looking for him.
heeseung can't shake the nausea from his throat, setting down the glass of wine to wander to the bathroom. but, the hall seems to get longer and longer, the temperature changing from the cold air conditioning to the humid spring air. he can feel a breeze in his hair, and then he realizes he's on the beach. his feet are buried in the warm sand, shoes in his hand.
sighing, he reminds himself he can't zone out like that all the time. it's not healthy, you had told him once. what if you end up in the middle of nowhere?
he reaches into his pocket, pulled out his spare headphones. he was supposed to bond with everyone at your stupid rehearsal dinner, but he didn't care to do so as he stared at the crashing waves. plugging the headphones into his phone, he gently speaks to siri as he lays on his back, looking up at the cloudless sky.
"hey, siri. play are we still friends? by tyler, the creator."
he stares into the water as the song pours into his ears. he doesn't know where things went to shit, but he knows it's his fault. he should've told you that what you said hurt his feelings. he should have communicated, then maybe it'd be him sitting next you in the private jet your mother rented solely for your honeymoon escape after the reception.
maybe it'd be him spinning you around in your beautiful wedding dress, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you dance the night away. maybe it would be him, like your mom had hoped. maybe it would be him, like he had hoped, too.
his fingers dig into the sand as he swallows the lump in his throat. there is nothing in hell, heaven or earth that would stop you from trekking the aisle tomorrow afternoon. nothing would stop jake from kissing you tenderly right in front of him, and doing it for the rest of your lives. it would taunt him, it would haunt him like the ghost of your friendship. you weren't friends anymore, the two of you knew it. things would never be the same between you, and yet, neither of you was brave enough to ask the question.
why?
"heeseung! are you out here?!" he can hear sunghoon's voice over the fourth replay of the song, lowering the volume as he tilts his head to find him. "over here, what's up?" "what's up? they're waiting for you, man!" sunghoon is standing in the doorway of the resort, the soft breeze blowing his hair back as a bridesmaid also peers over his shoulder. heeseung sighs as he stands, wiping his pants of sand and shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks quickly, humming quietly to himself to semi-prepare his voice for the perfect delivery of the song you wanted him to sing.
everyone is chatting quietly around the tables as heeseung steps inside, running his fingers through his hair as he walks forward. your mother catches his eye, a concerned look on her face, but he can't hold eye contact. he faces the floor as he reaches the small stage the venue has set up for the band, jay perched on a stool holding a guitar.
"hey, hee. you ready?" he asks as he tucks in his in-ear monitor, and heeseung shrugs as he takes his place behind the microphone. only then does he notice that the chatter he heard was just two bridesmaids, kim sunoo, riki nishimura and yang jungwon – all friends of yours and jake's that he hadn't bothered to meet further than reading their names in the program.
he watches silently as you and jake take the center of the dance floor, your eyes slightly reddened as you gingerly drape your arms over your fiancé. your smile doesn't fill your cheeks as jay begins playing softly.
heeseung takes a deep breath, and your eyes catch him as he begins to sing.
one touch, and you've got me stoned. higher than i've ever known…
you were both thirteen.
he remembers the way you held onto him the night that you lost your first mathletes competition. you cried so hard that you'd almost thrown up, and heeseung could only soothe you by dragging you to the nearest convenience store and shoving a melona popsicle in your hand. you went silent after that, gripping his hand tightly as he walked you home. you'd squeezed his hand three times that night, something he'd always done but you'd roll your eyes at.
"why would i squeeze your hand when i can just tell you, hee?"
you call the shots and i'll follow. sunrise, but the night's still young…
you were both seventeen.
he remembers when you called him to come over while it was storming, because your mother was out of town. your house was a little over a mile away and normally, he didn't mind the walk. it was almost three in the morning, and he'd been sleeping when your ringtone went off for the third time. "hello?" "hee, please come over. it's storming so bad, i'm so–"
he hadn't even let you finish before ripping his bedsheets off his body and sprinting for the door. his clothes, his shoes, everything was soaking wet by the time he got to your house. you'd embraced him anyway, your own clothes soaking through as he trudged into your home – only for the storm to stop a few moments after his arrival.
no words, but we're speaking tongues. if you let me, i might say too much…
you were both twenty.
he remembers when you asked him, in the middle of your kitchen during your graduation party, if he could kiss you. the house was empty except for the two of you – his parents and your mom had decided to throw a joint party, using the excuse that two best friends should always stick together. your mom had sent you inside for more hor d'oeuvres, and you'd dragged him inside with the excuse that you couldn't carry them all yourself.
"you don't have to, hee. i'm sorry." your eyes were full of embarrassment as heeseung stared at you, a bit in shock at your question. only as you begin to move further into the kitchen does he register what you've said, and grabs your arm, pulling you toward him. "ask me again, i'm sorry. i zoned out, i thought you asked me to kiss you."
"i did." you repeated quietly, and heeseung blinked twice before nodding. "o-okay. yeah, i can do that." he cleared his throat, looking over your shoulder into the foyer to ensure no one was opening the door.
"are you sure? i mean, it's your first kiss, wouldn't you want to have it with someone special?" he's rambling, and your gentle laugh pulls him right back.
"you are special, hee."
without another word, he backed you up against your kitchen counter, his hands on your hips as he softly kissed you. your hands were on his biceps, and he could feel your nervousness seep through your locked lips. he carefully circles your thighs to lift you onto the counter, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck before he breaks the kiss.
"how was that? okay?" his eyes searched yours, a shy smile playing on his swollen lips as you blinked. "uh, i'm not sure. i think–" "you want to try again?" his head tilted to the side, a habit you loved and eventually also caught. you nodded silently. his smile was wide as he closed the gap between the two of you, the hands on your thighs squeezing softly. once, twice, three times.
i love you.
your touch blurred my vision. it's your world, and i'm just in it…
you're both twenty one.
he remembers how he stared at his bedroom ceiling, clothes soaked in rain from prancing around the city with you. how piercing your words were, how he thought for so long that you believed in him. how all of these events he can't stop thinking about, are about you. how proud he was of you, how lucky he was to have you, how insane it was that you wanted him. you wanted him at one point.
how he didn't care that he got sick, but certainly didn't understand why your sore throat and stuffy nose didn't make him feel a pang of distress. how he didn't care that no one else was refuting his talent, because they weren't you. he didn't care about anyone else in this world, but you.
even sober, i'm not thinking straight…
you're both twenty two.
he remembers his birthday going abhorrently wrong. you weren't there, per usual – you were too wrapped up with school to give heeseung a second thought. he'd long realized that he didn't want to lose you, but it seemed that you no longer cared to keep the friendship alive. he still has the messages he sent you, and is still amazed at the lack of typos despite being absolutely shitfaced.
message to: my y/n <3 [2022.10.15 | 11:23pm] it's my birthday, baby. [2022.10.15 | 11:24pm] you can't be here for me today? [2022.10.15 | 11:24pm] i miss you. i miss our friendship. [2022.10.15 | 11:26pm] i can't believe you're missing my birthday. i never miss your birthdays. [2022.10.15 | 11:30pm] is this it? are we done? [2022.10.15 | 11:34pm] when will you come back to me? when, how much longer? [2022.10.15 | 11:35pm] when you graduate? i can wait. (not delivered!) [2022.10.15 | 11:47pm] just tell me how long. i'll wait. (not delivered!)[2022.10.16 | 12:02am] i'd wait forever for you (not delivered!)
he changed his number after that. he still doesn't know how you got his new one. he doesn't care to ask, either.
cause i'm off my face, in love with you…
you're both twenty five.
he's watching you slow dance with your fiancé, fingers interlaced behind his neck as jake's hands rest on your hips. he hates the jealousy that boils in his stomach, but doesn't bother to break eye contact with the tile on the ceiling with water damage.
i'm out my head, so into you…
he can feel his fingers tightening around the microphone stand, but can't seem to stop his eyes from averting as jake spins you gently, before your soft giggle hits his ears. you look up at jake with what he can only assume is adoration, before resting your cheek on his shoulder. you're looking right at heeseung, mouthing along to the song.
and i don't know how you do it…
you're fixing your posture instead, still staring at heeseung as jake takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles. you instinctively smile at the feeling, and heeseung's eyes zero in on your fingers as you squeeze jake's hand.
once, twice, three times. i love you.
but i'm forever ruined by you, ooh, ooh, ooh.
"i love you." your eyes haven't left heeseung as you whisper the words, and you can see the way his eyes fill with fire as he looks away. you get a twisted feeling of satisfaction in your gut, before finally averting your eyes back to your fiancé. jake is smiling softly at you, and you quickly close the gap between you as heeseung continues to sing. your lips press against jake's smoothly, before he swiftly moves away. "i can't wait to marry you tomorrow." he whispers.
"me, too."
liar.
may 02.
the wedding is in twenty minutes.
your pantyhose has ripped, you tripped going up the stairs. you're not even wearing your dress yet. there are storm clouds gathering, and you can’t help but feel like everything in the universe is working against you. the only thing holding you together is your mother, her arms are wrapped tightly around you.
“are you sure we can’t just run away and elope?” you mumble into her shoulder, and your mother laughs. “not anymore. but,” she pulls away from you, cradling your face in her hands gently. “i love you, honey. everything will be okay.”
you hate the churn in your stomach at the word everything. because if everything were okay, it'd be sunny. if everything were okay, you'd be staring down an aisle full of people and only see heeseung at the end of it. if everything were okay, you would've never said yes to that first date.
“i love you.” you repeat, your hand resting on her wrists as you nod robotically. “i’ll see you out there, okay?”
“okay.” you breathe out shakily as she presses her lips to your hairline, lingering slightly before pulling away and leaving your room. you were alone now, and you glanced out the window at all the guests gathering on the beach. everyone is dressed so brightly, bunches of pinks and lilacs scattered across the sand. jake is waiting patiently at the end of the aisle, the forest green of his suit making his skin glow slightly brighter. how he does it, you don't know.
and then you see heeseung.
he’s dressed in black, despite the theme of the wedding being floral and natural. you grimace, forcing yourself to look away before spotting your dress hanging on the back of the door. you'd have to shimmy into it on your own, having sent everyone out in a fit of anxiety.
sighing, you unhook the heavy dress from the door, carefully letting the skirt pool on the floor as you step into it. it slides on perfectly, and you can't help but lose your breath at the sudden weight of the world on your chest. you're getting married, and you love jake.
but he'll never, ever be heeseung.
"tighten up, y/n. you've got this." you shake your head, reaching back and forcing the zipper up as high as you could. you had a hook-and-eye closure at the top, something you'd simply have to forego if you wanted to make it downstairs on time. groaning to yourself, you attempt to pull up the zipper just a bit more, before giving up and covering it with your veil. grabbing your bouquet, you give yourself a final glance in the mirror.
"you've got this. everything will be okay."
your voice is shaky, but you swing your room door open anyway – only to be met with heeseung on the other side. his eyes widen, mouth slightly agape as you come into his view. "wow, you look…" "what are you doing here? you're supposed to be downstairs." you scold, shoving your keycard into the pocket of your dress. oh yeah, you've got it like that. "your mom asked me to come see what was taking so long. i told her you'd be down soon, but she insisted." he shrugs, so nonchalantly.
like none of this is eating away at him.
"ugh, whatever. come on." your tone is angry, but your face shows nothing but fear. his eyes follow as you storm towards the elevator, seeing the zipper of your dress slowly sliding down as you reach the doors. "here, hold on."
his fingers move your veil carefully as you step into the elevator, before pulling the fabric tighter together and pulling the zipper to the top. he carefully clasps the closure, and you swear you feel every hair on your body sticking up when his fingertips gently graze your back. "don't touch me, heeseung."
"i'm trying to help you. otherwise, you'd flash that entire crowd." he scoffs, pressing the floor button. you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself as the elevator becomes silent. the tension is thick between you, you know it. your eyes never leave the neon sign, watching the floor numbers go by before heeseung reaches over and pulls the emergency lever.
"what the fuck are you doing?! i'm already late!" you gasp, hitting his arm with your bouquet when he stands in front of the lever. "i can't let you do this unless you hear what i have to say."
"heeseung, i'm getting married. this is the biggest day of my life–" your whining is cut short by his hand on your mouth, and only then do you see the unshed tears in his eyes. "the biggest day of my life was when i met you on that stupid playground. i never, ever in my life thought our friendship would end this way, and you know what, it makes me kind of sick."
he breathes deeply, removing his hand from your face as he sees the shock in your eyes. "you're saying you're already late to your big day, well i just want to say i beat you in that department. i've never had a problem with punctuality, but i really missed the mark on this one." his chuckle is dry, humorless as he looks at the bouquet in your hand. "i don't think i'll get over this, ever. i'll never get the chance to be in his place. but," he steps back, fingers gripping the emergency lever in his hand.
"i want you to know that it should be me. i should be the one waiting for you at the end of the aisle. i should be the one who gets to love you until the end of my days, and even then, you'd never die. you'd be loved by me forever, the evidence strewn all over the world in compositions and lyrics. i would never let you die."
he pushes the lever back, before moving back to his original spot next to you. the elevator doors open, revealing an empty lobby. the storm clouds are no longer that far away, and you can feel the humidity through the open plan of the resort.
"i am foolishly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you. and i hope you realize this is the biggest mistake of your life." his voice is soft, as is his smile when he offers his hand. "here's to your forever, my love."
you say nothing.
🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊
if heeseung was anything, it was a sick bastard. a sick, rat bastard who had no shame. your mother took you from his arm at the end of the aisle, and you didn't even realize you'd allowed him to lead you there. jake's eyes shone with what could only be identified as jealousy.
he smiled the entire ceremony, clapping and whistling alongside your other guests through the vows. the sappy vows jake had penned were poetic compared to yours, but he knew what you meant anyway. you felt several fat raindrops plop onto your head and shoulders, while heeseung had come prepared and shared his umbrella with your mother.
he even helped her inside once the rain really started pouring, just after your first kiss as a married couple. your stomach was boiling over in fury as you watched him laugh with her, his eyes only meeting yours once with a soft smile.
you and jake slipped away to change into your reception clothing, his suit jacket abandoned and sleeves rolled up, showing off the watch you got him for his birthday. your ballroom white dress, now stained with sand, was traded in for an a-line style. jake met you in front of the resort, his fingers curled in yours when he finally spoke.
"we really did it, huh." he says quietly, his eyes scanning the shut doors of the reception venue. you nod, your breath caught in your throat when he takes a step back, his hand squeezing yours. "two years." your ears twitch at this. "what?" "all i ask for is two years. we can have a kid. we'll have an heir to our wills. we can get divorced after two years, and you can be with him." he breathes, eyes following the pattern on the heavy wooden door. you choke out a scoff of disbelief, your throat burning. "what the fuck are you talking about, jaeyun?" he winces at the use of his name, so used to gentle baby and sweetened honey. a sigh escapes his lips as he turns to face you. "i know you love him, y/n. you don't have to hide it from me. you wouldn't have brought him all the way out here, you wouldn't have gone behind my back and changed the plans for the band. your mom loves him, for crying out loud. i never stood a chance." he chuckles sadly, and your tears are hot as they flow down your face.
"how can you say that, jaeyun? i'm married to you, i've chosen you, over anything and anyone in this world! how can you say such things?!" your hurt is evident, but he can't figure out if it's because of the little blame game or if it's because you truly, deeply love him. he doesn't know what to say, but reaches to wipe your tears. you jerk away, a frown etched on your glossed lips as you wipe them yourself. you take a deep breath, grabbing the door knob.
"fix your face." you mutter, a tone jake had never received from you as he sighed, painting a smile of everything's okay on his face as the two of you threw the doors open in unison. your crowd of guests cheered loudly, rice flying everywhere as they welcomed you in. the band was loudly playing got to be real by cheryl lynn, and you almost forget jake's painful words behind the door. you almost forget that heeseung will be queueing up to sing for you and your husband, for free, on the very stage you're now standing in front of.
jungwon hands you a microphone and two champagne flutes, before slinking away to his seat. you hand one to jake, who swirls it nervously.
"wow, it's such an honor to have all of our loved ones here today." your voice is shaky as you take them all in, dozens of eyes staring you down. "i mean, i've waited for this day since i was a little girl. it's a blessing to finally see it in color, in person. thank you." jake breathes in deeply, before looking away to blink back tears. "i'm not crying, my eyes are just sweating." he speaks into the microphone, earning an empathetic laugh from the guests, your hand ghosts over his back, and he stiffens at it. "i'm so…so terribly in love with y/n. i can't believe this day is real." a soft aww echoes in the room, your chest tightening as you see heeseung sitting next to your mother. he's cooing with everyone else. "and i can't wait to be a man that is continuously worthy of her love. to y/n."
you almost burst into tears as everyone raises their drinks to you, the clink of glasses adding to the emotion as you and jake find your seats at the end of the hall. you sit gingerly, holding jake's hand under the table tightly. "i love you, jake." "i love you, y/n."
🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊 – 🟊
the speeches were a mess. jay was a mess of tears, and minjeong spewed bullshit about the two of you being like sisters. heeseung hadn't met her until five minutes after the ceremony, and if you had been close to anyone enough to consider them a sibling, he'd know them. no one knew you like he did.
"and now, for the newlyweds' first dance! we have a very special guest singing for us today, please give a warm welcome and round of applause to y/n's longest friend, lee heeseung!"
he smiled nervously as he took the stage, a puffy-eyed jay sitting behind him as he tested the microphone. "thank you for having me, and congratulations to the newlyweds. y/n, i'm eternally proud of you and so grateful to be here on your special day. i love you." none of the guests know it means something more to him, to you, as they let out an aww. how heartwarming, that your lifelong best friend was here for you. how lovely, that he was supporting you every step of the way.
he sang carefully, watching as you and jake held each other tightly, swaying to the song. he can hear your sniffle, a soft sob into jake's shoulder as he lovingly strokes your back. he looks away.
it should be him.
it should be heeseung, that gets to see you wear white. it should be heeseung, that gets to plan a tedious wedding at your instruction. it should be heeseung that gets to take you on a romantic honeymoon and spend all day in the sun and all night glued to your bed. it should be heeseung that gets to shampoo your hair for you when you're feeling too tired, it should be heeseung that gets to watch you put lipstick on in the morning just to ruin it before you're out the door.
it should be him. and everyone knows it, no matter if they know your history or not.
"thank you, everyone. let's hear it for the newlyweds!"
october 15.
"hey."
it's been over a year since your wedding. you and jake had happily posted tons of wedding photos, piled over with honeymoon flicks. you and heeseung hadn't spoken since the wedding. he left right after the first dance, catching the first ferry back to seoul. he didn't bother contacting you to see if you'd made it back safely, he didn't bother to message you a happy birthday when it came around. he just didn't care.
he dropped out of college for the second time, and spent the summer going around seoul auditioning for companies. decelis entertainment finally gave him a break, and only after he got his contract did he find out that jake and all of his friends were also at this company.
he was polite in the hallways. he smiled, he waved, he engaged in small talk and perused the past. he didn't ask questions, he didn't initiate. he spent his time holed away in the studio with a producer named yeonjun, recording for hours on end without a break. he was set to debut in two weeks, having dropped his first teaser just two days prior.
all without you to cheer him on.
"what are you doing here?" his voice was cold, nothing you weren't used to at this point. his hair wasn't red anymore, now a natural chocolate brown. it suited him. "came to visit, heard from jake that you've been training for a year." "what's it to you?"
he's being harsh, he knows he's being harsh.
"hey, y/n. nice to see you." jake calls from across the hall, exiting his studio with jay and sunghoon in tow. the two of them seem to say nothing at the sudden casualties between you and jake, or the insinuation that he hadn't seen you in a while. heeseung gives you a glance, your hands holding a gift and a grocery bag. "may i come in?" "i'm busy, at the moment." he coughs, ignoring the way your eyes roll. "too busy for a slice of cake?" you hold up a bag in your fingers, and his eyes narrow. he leans back into the studio, his eyes scanning the calendar for any potential special dates. he's not even flipped to the right month, the calendar reading july.
"shit, did i miss something?" he whips out his phone, which you simply cover with your hand. a soft laugh escapes your lips as you lift your other hand, the gift bag screaming happy birthday in gold glitter flashing at him. "oh, man." he moves away from the door, allowing you to walk in. you look around, and although the studio doesn't belong to him, it sure smells like him. it looks like him, it's covered in him, it feels like home.
"happy birthday, hee." you say gently, setting the gift down on the couch and slowly sitting down to unwrap his cake. "i know it's not much, but i'm barely here." you chuckle, tapping your temple as he takes a seat in his desk chair. he's wary, you can tell.
"something on your mind?" "why are you here? i debut in two weeks, i don't need any bullshit." he rubs his temples, and you only frown. "you know, once upon a time, you would've been happy to have me here." your tone is pointed, and heeseung sighs. "fine, fine. i'm sorry."
"i'm the one who should be sorry." you murmur, and heeseung says nothing. he knows you're right.
you're both quiet, before heeseung notices the candle next to the cake. he rolls the chair over, his fingers carefully centering the candle. "have you got a light?"
you shake your head no, a sheepish look in your eyes. "i'm sorry. we can pretend, if that's okay?" he hates the way his lips twitch into a smile at your wide eyes. "yeah, we can pretend."
you sing for him softly, your cheek squished into your hand as you lean on the armrest. he closes his eyes, making a wish and blowing the makeshift flame out. "what'd you wish for?" you yawn, and he shakes his head.
"won't come true if i tell you." shrugging, he rolls back over to his desk, leaving the cake on the table. you just make a noise of agreement, before a sigh slips past you. "i heard your teaser, you know." he doesn't care to react, only giving you a short sound. "mhm?" "is it about me?" you ask, and he straightens in his chair before spinning around to face you. "all my songs are about you. every single one of them." he gestures to a tattered journal on the soundboard. it's covered in stickers, and…a taped photo of you and him as toddlers. "oh."
"i mean what i say, y/n." he rolls his eyes, before spinning back around. "if it were me, i'd never let you die."
but it is you, you think. it's always been you.
"why did jake say it was nice to see you?" he asks, too cowardly to look you in the eyes. he hears your sigh, before hearing you shift around on the couch. he spins around again, only to see you have removed your shoes and tucked your legs beneath you. his eyes scan you, before looking at your fingers. your ring is gone, replaced by a chunky painite stone in silver. your eyes are gently burning into him, and he shivers in the warmth. "well…why?" "before the reception, he told me he knew." you shrug, "he knew how you felt about me, and how i allegedly felt about you. he brought up my mother, and how he felt like he'd never stood a chance."
"but he did. you married him, after all." heeseung rolls his eyes as you shrug, blinking slowly as you speak again. "we gave it a good shot. maybe i should've listened to all those superstitions, they're not such bullshit. the tripping, the rain, god, the way my ring was too tight." you scoff sadly, before glancing back up at him.
he seems to understand. if he doesn't, he doesn't say anything. sighing, you reach over to rustle the gift bag with your fingers. "you've got to open this, you know."
"y/n, i can't do this." he breathes out, eyes screwed shut. "i can't sit here with you and pretend like we're all good, like you're not married to the same guy i share a company with. we stopped being friends a long time ago, what are you trying to do here?" "i'm not trying to do anything but reconnect. i fully accepted the fact that whether or not you're with me, you're still someone i love. i spent years trying to figure out why you drifted away from me, and then jake and i sat down at our dinner table a few weeks ago after meeting with the lawyer and he asked me about our friendship. so i told him everything, from the very beginning."
heeseung can't breathe as you get up, walking towards him and slowly sinking into a squat. your hands are on his knees, giving a gentle squeeze before you speak.
"i'm sorry i made it seem like i had no faith in you. i said horrible things to you, even if they seemed right to me, and i'm so sorry that it took someone else to tell me that i'd treated you so badly that day."
his eyes are brimming with tears, but he looks away from you. he can't cry, not now, not in front of you.
"you've always been like that, though." he murmurs, picking at his cuticles when you carefully take his hands in yours. he suppresses a sob as the warmth of you envelopes his fingers, "i was projecting. i thought that everyone had to be like me, that everyone had to have a plan. some people are just better at flying by the seat of their pants, i mean, look at all you've accomplished despite me saying such shitty things to you. you're about to debut, you're going to see great success. everyday i'm rooting for you, even if i'm not the person you go home to."
you give his hands a firm squeeze. once, twice, three times. i love you.
"are you divorced?"
you scoff out a soft laugh, looking down at his jeans. "jake and i haven't been together since the wedding. we spent the honeymoon playing mermaids and crying over whiskey sours."
"i can't forgive you right now." he confesses, making your head snap up to look at him. he swallows hard, "i can't forgive you right now, because i'm still mad at you. for saying those things to me, and…and you hurt me, when you asked me to sing for your wedding. it hurt me a lot, y/n." "i'm sorry, hee." you whisper, your thumbs wipe at the tears spilling from his eyes. he leans into your touch, before pulling away. "i know you are, y/n. i know."
he gently pushes away, offering his hand to help you up. you take it, and he waits for you to put your shoes on before leading you back to the door. "i'll call you, okay? when i'm ready."
you step out of the studio, peering up at him with sad eyes. "you promise?"
he sighs, nodding his head. "i promise, baby."
BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen angst#enha fluff#heeseung x reader#heeseung angst#heeseung x you#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung imagine#heeseung fic#enhypen fic#enhypen series#heeseung teaser#enhypen soft hours#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#enha#lee heeseung#enhypen scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfic#kvanity#svnet
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Idk if you're taking requests but I would give it a short and it would mean so much if you actually wrote smthg bout it.
An angsty fic/drabble where woozi and reader are in a long term established relationship and the reader gets their absolute dream job opportunity but it's far from Korea and she tells it to woozi but they get conflicted since woozi cannot transfer between his work and seventeen and reader does not want to give up this once in a life time opportunity. At the same time they are sceptical about a long distance relationship since reader had already been fed up of how less they get to see and stay with woozi with him travelling and working constantly.
You don't have to write it if it's too complex but I'd love to see cuz I really like the way you write!
content: idol!woozi x nonidol!reader, established relationship, light angst, fluff, long distance relationship, etc.
wc: 716
a/n: thank u so much!! im so sorry for how long i took to get this out!!
masterlist
it'd been a week since you told jihoon about your new work opportunity. a week since the air in your apartment became just a little bit colder and the future slightly more grim.
jihoon had been supportive immediately, congratulating you and insisting on you accepting the position. he'd been as supportive a boyfriend as he'd been in the past two years of your relationship. it filled you with warmth and hope for the future of your relationship.
it wasn't until you'd let him know of the location of said job that things became more sad than hopeful.
although he still maintained his supportiveness, there was now a clear air of worry in his voice any time it'd get brought up.
you'd tried to ignore it, pushing it aside until you found the courage in you to actually accept the position. it was your dream job. a once in a lifetime opportunity. except it was an entire country away from the love of your life. and you only had three more days to accept the offer letter they'd sent to you.
the thought of doing long distance would have been fine had you been anyone else. but you barely got to see your boyfriend as it was. living with him was really the only way for you to spend time together. his busy idol schedule had him going all over the world, and when he was at home he was usually ever at the company or in your shared apartment.
if you left, you'd give up on ever getting to see him.
"babe."
the voice took you away from your train of thought. the same train of thought distracting you for the past week.
you looked away from the tv that had been playing in front of you. you hadn't even been watching it, but the background noise helped.
jihoon was at the entrance of the living room, two mugs in hand as he walked over to you and took his usual seat, silently handing you your mug with a tight smile.
not even a single sip from your drink was taken before the subject filled the room once more.
"you need to take this job."
"jihoon ..."
"no, listen," he turned his body to face you, "you and i, we're a forever thing, okay? i don't care if we have to be away for a while. i'm already living my dream, it's unfair that you don't get to do the same," he argued with conviction in his eyes.
"but, jihoon ... it won't be like when you're touring. we'll never be in the same country at the same time, i-"
his hands went to take your mug, placing it on the coffee table before taking your hands into his own.
"i don't care!", his voice raised without meaning to, "so we'll have a year or two in which we can't be as close as we've always been, so what? it won't matter in the grand scheme of things. we'll be together for forty- no fifty years. a few years of uncertainty won't matter a few years from now. babe, please."
his voice pleaded at you.
he was afraid you'd end it all instead of at least trying.
what made it worse that he refused to consider a possibility in which you didn't go and follow your dream. it was a done deal to him. he loved you that much.
that was all you needed to make a decision.
"i'll take the job," you said decisively.
jihoon released a sigh of relief right away, hand squeezing your own in encouragement.
"i-i'll rent a place big enough for the two of us over there. i'll ask for a week off every six months. i'll have it written into my contract so i can go visit you. and- and we'll keep this place here for any time you have time off. we'll call every night, no matter what. even if it's just for two minutes, we'll- we'll make it work."
all you could do was smile at him.
how could you ever worry about change when he was willing to work so hard to move along with it all?
you kissed him then, shutting him up with no words.
and he understood, kissing you back with just as much unspoken love.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#svt angst#svt fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#jihoon scenarios#jihoon x reader#jihoon imagines#jihoon fanfic#jihoon fluff#woozi fanfic#woozi scenarios#woozi angst#woozi imagines#woozi x reader
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᪇ꫭ dreamseeker, [ qimir x jedi!reader ]
summary — it all started when you find out he’s alive.
warnings — pure angst, violence, blood, mentions of injuries and tons of tension, sfw.
side notes — 4k+ // English's not my first language so please be kind! went slightly away with this one so would catalogue it as an alternative universe. Heard liking without reblogging makes you fall in an awful curse that breaks my heart in the process so let that sink in, anyway everything it's appreciated!,,, thought about making an +18 second part? dunno,,, thks also for the 110 followers! love you guys sooooo much *heart avalanche*
The air's hot in the room when you woke up.
The sweat made the sheets stick to you body as you got out of bed for the third time that week, a terrible headache forming as you leave the dormitories in the middle of the dark. Coruscant suddenly feels unbearable. You've slept almost nothing through the course of the week, so you surely are in a bad mood when the cold wind of the night makes you shiver at the sudden change of temperature.
I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.
The words are repeating in the back of you head, scratching a part of your brain while you keep on trying to remember who's voice you're dreaming so much lately.
It's all connected somehow, always is. You've learned to trust the force a while ago, learned that destiny's intertwined with an energy field that holds the galaxy together the hard way, so you know, deep down, that you have to trust your guts in this one, something that you know it concerns you but can't quite understand what really is in the first place.
Dreams. Dreams are a cruel thing that you tend to forgot sometimes, the reflection of the mind and soul projected like a high-class transmission in your head. Dreams talk, and they make you think about things you've let in the past, things you've certainly need to come back at some point.
That's why you can't sleep later, cause you know it means something. You know that dreaming the very same dream every single night for the past week means something more than just mere imagination playing around, far from an innocent scenario.
The temple is silent at night even when the city outside seems to be so wake in contrast of the inside, most of the lights out as you crossed the empty hallway hoping to avoid anyone, cause you know they'll ask questions you don't have an answer for.
In all truth, you don't have a clue why are you up so late, why this deep voice kept you awake when you should be deep in your sleep, dreaming about something more than superstitions. You don't have an answer to any superior, don't seem to have an answer for yourself either.
The Jedi trials ended long ago, yet, you don't think of yourself as someone as successful as Yord Fandar, your talent being far from what it should be expected. You never complain about anything and never would, they were the only family you ever knew and you refuse to lose everything you've been working so hard for just for questioning your bare existence.
"Can't sleep?" The male voice makes you stiff almost immediately, checking your surroundings to notice Master Sol approaching you from the left. The Jedi Master catches you by surprise, your hands already on the lightsaber that is hanging on your waist before you notice you're safe, even when you don't want to talk. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
There are things that are worth hiding, but with Sol? Master Sol seems to see through it all, the worries and the dreams that you don't know if you should call nightmares, even when you try to lock them away for a minute. That's the main reason the man stares at you, cause you expel that smell of desperation, the tension in your muscles as you don't sleep in what seems are ages.
"What's troubling you?" He asks, your own eyes betraying you as they can't hold the weight of his gaze. "I know it's not my place to ask, but are you sleeping well lately?"
"Not really, but nothing to worry about" you say almost afraid that it's going to get you in trouble, the lack of sleep making you think the most stupid things as you stop in the middle of the hallway, making sure there's no one around more than Master Sol and yourself.
Not sleeping is a dangerous thing when reality tends to become a feverish version of itself.
I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.
You're unsure of telling him what's really going on, unsure of trusting the people you've been close your whole life out of nowhere. A sudden sixth sense that commands you to keep the dreams to yourself, the sound of the male voice you've been listening like the most important secret you've ever hold account of.
It's almost embarrassing to admit you don't trust a Jedi above your rank, that your sixth sense all of sudden makes you keep the truth when it can be something important, when Master Sol has been like a friend to you after all those years of training.
Things have been weird since your Jedi Master was found recently murdered in Ueda, a heavy weight in your shoulders as it saddened you more than you even expected. Master Indara was like close family, and you find yourself missing her, mostly in moments like that when you wish you have someone to talk to
“I was going to the dormitories” Sol explains soon after, walking by your side. “I needed to ask you for a favor my dear friend, and I’m afraid I cannot wait much longer for you to heal.”
Heal. Are you ever allowed to heal? It’s been less than a couple of days since you found out about Indara, let alone the dreams that were tormenting you the rest of the week and suffer the loss, so it seems funny when Master Sol tells you he cannot wait much longer: No Jedi ever has time to heal.
“What can I do to help?”
It’s all it takes to leave Coruscant after, trapped in space in a small ship with not only Master Sol, but Yord and Sol’s younger padawan Jecki Lon, strange enough, also with Verosha Aniseya, a former Jedi you keep an eye on through time passed.
Suddenly you’re traveling through the galaxy and there’s no time for any more tears. Suddenly you need to toughen up and act like this Jedi Knight you’re supposed to be, even when you keep questioning yourself more than ever.
Maybe it’s because of Indara’s death. Her decease came so out of nowhere it shocked you to the very heart — It’s clear that you’re sensitive, dreaming stuff you’ve been getting tired of deciphering, pure nonsense, but then, the ship lands in Khofar and Sol it’s convincing you to stay inside even you’re perfectly capable of taking Verosha’s twin and his alleged master.
It’s your own mind that plays tricks on you, making you believe you’re not good enough to help. Truth is you felt your training as a padawan was not enough, you’re an easy target now that you’re hurt and it seems to make sense when all of sudden the group of Jedis leave you to fucking rot between white walls and buttons that sparkled.
It’s clear you’re affected. How can you not be affected by it? You’re overcome by sadness and anger both mixed together, and that feeling by itself is a dangerous one when in history, makes people question things too much to the point of no return.
So when you find yourself close to the light of the hologram that you turned on being so bored in the ship, your fingers dim between the white and blue rays as you wondered: Is it honorable to seek for revenge? Is it true to a Jedi to feel this gut-wrecking wrath?
You know the answer deep inside. You know it’s wrong, yet your feet think otherwise, cause when you leave the ship in the middle of the night you still debate yourself if you should disobey, if you should do what you want instead, walking through the woods like you know which way to go.
You never disobey any command, so it’s a new thing to openly doubt about the judgement of your superiors, to walk in an unknown planet despite the orders you were told. The path seems to light by itself as you can sense it in the air, the force conducting you in silence as you walked in a fast pace. You know deep down, know everything went wrong.
The blue light of your sable is enough to light the way, the humidity in the air makes you sweat as concentrated in the sounds of the nature, you run, run until your lungs are burning and your heartbeats are so fast you’re afraid the organ itself is going to jump out of your chest. You run even when the long leaves of the plants hit you in the face, when your legs are getting cramps and you can feel the lack of oxygen: The pain is not enough to stop you.
You can hear it from far away, the heat of the fight. The sounds of the physical effort, the buzzing of the lightsables against the silent night. Adrenaline creeps across your blood flow, and even when you can't breathe properly at all you run to the chaos, driven like a moth to the flame. You let the force conduct you as you close your eyes, jumping and elevating from the floor enough to hold the sable from over your head — You attack.
I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.
It’s coming again, the rough sound of your dreams when your blue sable hits the red out of nowhere, force colliding against each other as the impact is enough to send you directly to the floor. You know who the enemy is, the surprise in Jecki’s face and the disapproval moments after
The stranger is fast and he doesn’t hesitate when he strikes, it’s fast enough to hurt in a mortal way and you became aware of it when Jecki’s falling to the ground and the acid in your mouth is enough to make you look away — The anger comes moments after, the red stains blurring your vision as you let out a scream, gathering the force to dodge his deadly attack.
It’s for Indara, the young padawan, and the Jedi’s he just slayed like they were nothing: It stings in your soul yet you stop holding back, stop holding yourself to finally hit harder, to strike faster than he does, to hurt the stranger as much as he hurted you. And he responds, but not fast enough to beat you, cause you let the metallic back of your sable hit his head when he’s kneeled on the floor, and you smile to yourself cause you have no damn mercy when his helmet finally cracks and it’s enough to break apart revealing his face.
It’s all it takes then. All it takes to froze you in that very spot, holding the sable over your head, ready to end his life with no second thought.
You know that face. You know it when suddenly he’s smiling at you.
I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.
It makes sense soon after, lowering the sable to the floor without fully believing it, a ghost in front of you as you feel the air leaving your lungs. Drinking the sight of him like he’s not real, like it’s a sick joke your mind made to break you down, to make you weaker.
You’re pulled by a sudden force, by the force. However, falling to the floor hurts way less than seeing him again, the words stuck in your throat unable to speak. It’s imminent, it’s devastating when the pain catches you by surprise, your back aching against the rough surface.
He’s going to kill you, isn’t he?
It makes sense to die by his hand. The memories you two share, the intimacy that was taken away so sudden, it only makes sense to die by the one you loved before, even if it's a surprise you'll never recover from.
The heat of his red lightsaber against your neck is not enough to scare you, but enough to finally look at his face, to encounter his eyes and reveal the truth that was hidden all along between lies. You experience the intensity of his gaze, how it softens when realizing you're looking at him with that same look you have been doing it years ago.
"You're alive" it slips away from you before even noticing, the sound of your voice wrapping him in a haze he didn't expect at first, to be so devastated by you even after all the time resenting the Jedi's and everything they represented "Qimir you're alive..."
He knows you're shocked, the sound of your voice piercing in his ears as he threatened with the weapon against your neck, any sudden movement would slice you in the second — "Hello to you too."
He's real, when he speaks out loud you know he's real, he's standing in front you erasing all the theories you made about not sleeping enough now making you delusional, he's there, standing ready to kill and take what he wants to feel like he won.
It's a personal vendetta, you know it as you expect any answer, any word at all until Sol's screaming as he's taken away from you once again.
He's not a friend, he's not the Qimir you once knew, and he's not someone you can trust again as he was ready to kill. He's not was he used to be, and you can tell by the way he moves, the way he goes against Master Sol hoping to leave the Jedi in the floor, his anger when he refers to his acolyte as a traitor.
He's the one responsible for Indara's death indirectly. He's not a lover. He's not a friend.
You think he died years ago, never really understanding what really happened to the bright man you met in Coruscant, a secret no one dared to bring up. He has the same fucking smile you know too well, the one that make you crumble completely in the sight, and it sadden you, it saddens you he take that path when you seem to woke up from whatever has you nailed to the floor and finally run to help Sol.
You believe you're in the right side, you've been taught about the light and the dark, and you put your heart out filling your mouth saying how you're doing good, how you're making things right.
It's kill or get killed. It’s clear that Qimir does not seem to care about any connection you shared before, hurting you no longer means whatever it meant before, and as the sable burnt your tight, no one cares when you're fainting in the floor, abandoning the fight when it approaches his end.
Sol's mad, but it's not enough to make the master stop to check if you're alive. So many lives were lost in Khofar, and the fight was so demanding you're soon forgot in a planet when the sun is finally rising.
You know you've always been alone, know the last time you saw your family you were too young to even remember, so it's not a surprise when you're left behind. Jedi's come and go, that's why they keep training them generation after generation — It's expected to lose some percentage in missions.
What's not expected, it's when Qimir is close to your cold body later in the early morning. Still deep induced in the fever of pain when he's betrayed by his own heart, his old feelings resurfacing even when he made sure to bury them in a hole in the back of his head.
He's weak it seems. And he should be ashamed of himself when he's the one carrying you back to his ship when everyone has left you behind.
I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.
Is that his voice? The rough sound that makes you wake up in a uncomfortable place with clothing you don't remember owning.
You're confused for a second before realizing you're in unknown place, a cold breeze shivering your skin: You're in someone's house, using someone's bed.
It's all it takes to make you stand up, leaving the warm sheets behind as your eyes scan the place looking for both a person or a way out. There's a saucepan in the fire cooking slowly, and a smell you can't describe at first.
You move carefully, theories in your mind about what happened that seemed so imposible. You're sure you're far from Coruscant where you should be, yet, you don't feel much danger when you discover you're left alone in what it seems to be a cave, one that lets a windy current enter through a slit between the rocks.
You're unsupervised: Does that mean you're not a prisoner?
You remember fainting in the cold surface of Khofar, the humidity in the air as the air leaves your lungs before entering a state of unconsciousness. You remember Qimir as a ghost in front of you, smiling like he's young again, trying to get to your room in the middle of the night as if it wasn't forbidden.
Was that your dream about? A warning about the stranger being alive?
You don't dare to drink the water, you don't dare to touch any belonging more than the necessary when inspecting. Its more of a hiding than a home itself, so it lacks of belongings as you can't find anything else more than your clothes, protecting yourself from the cold air.
You're not treated as a prisoner, yet you don't feel any safe at all due to the recent events that seemed to say otherwise. You cannot seem to find your sable, and the silence it's making you lose patience.
The cave is a mess soon after, you're searching for your most important weapon, so now the lack of it seems to make you nervous. You search until you're no longer alone, a new presence in the cave as you adopt a pose of defense.
"Where's my sable?" you ask to what it seems the air, acting all tough before noticing who's the person that dragged you to a different planet, the responsable of healing your wounds with a unexpected speed. You know who it is from before, the change in the cave when he's around even when you don't receive any answer back "I'm talking to you, Qimir."
He doesn't talk when he's tossing it over the things he brought from outside, the orange details in the heavy metal shining against the dim lights of the cave. He knows you are not leaving without it, that you're too attached to it for your bad luck.
"Where am I?" you ask soon enough. At this point you lack of patience out of all, you're tired and your body is sore, you're still dreaming that very same thing, and you're not resting enough to keep your mind sane, so it's not a surprise when you're demanding answers, after all, you wanted to know what happened back in Khofar.
It hits you how much you miss him now that he is in front of you in full silence, not in the middle of violence like before, how much you wanted to hug him until he no longer breathes and spat something stupid as a not-very-funny joke. You miss him after all those years of believing he's death, that he disappeared out of sudden without telling nobody, not even you.
The silence makes you mad, and the stranger knows it, sense it in the force when the anger hits you, filling the air of the cave that feels small even when the spaces are big enough. He lied. That's all you can think of, he lied and never bothered to tell you he's alive after suffering his departing so whole heartedly.
Nights without sleeping as you let the insomnia carry you to a state you can't leave, overflowed by feeling you've learnt to deal with in the pass of time. Time heals it all they say, but it just makes things more bearable, help you live with it.
But now. Now it was cruel, it's a wound that opened by itself with the things you saw, the person he was now, embracing his dark side like it was something worth celebrating.
"Talk to me," you say, and you don't know why you're the one asking for answers when you shouldn't. "This is not fucking fair."
Fair.
"Nothing's ever fair," he says, and the sound of his voice is enough to make you shiver. Now that you're surrounded only by the crashing sound of the waves hitting the rocks outside, you can hear him without the buzz of the fight. "Your people know that very well. You make the rules after all. You decide what's fair in the galaxy."
It's a knife in your heart. You don't want him to affect you like he does, but it's impossible when it stings like a burnt from the sable, the weight of his words, the hatred on his tone when he spits the words like they're acid in his tongue.
"I've never made nothing" it's a declaration of self-hatred at it most, how you've not been capable of doing much even when you pride on being called a Jedi Knight. "You know that."
There's no response. You're used to follow orders, not question, trust you're working with the correct side, so his look is something new, something that leaves goosebumps on your skin.
"You're alive," you still don't believe it at first, now studying his factions like they were still craved in stone back on your head. "After all these years, you couldn't tell me you were alive?"
It's a bad joke, one that makes you laugh leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth — "You couldn't tell your best friend you were leaving? Nobody talked about you all of sudden, you became a dream. Almost making me sure you never existed at all."
"That's what they told you? That I leaved?" the way he's telling the information makes you furrow your brows in response, trying to make sense of what he was saying: Was he implying they lied to you?
"Please, explain me then" you're not in the mood of fighting, instead, you want information, crucial information to what you were choosing to be "Enlighten me. Tell me why you left me there without saying goodbye. Why it doesn't seem to affect you as much as it affected me."
The stranger has grown cold. He has now adapted beneath this rough amour that separated him from what he was before. So he doesn't give you any answers even when you question him, looking at you without saying a word.
You've changed too. You're not the little padawan that followed Indara around and look up at Torbin, you're not afraid of showing your force anymore, after all those years he has told you you're more than capable of defeating any enemy, you are starting to believe it more that ever. Even when he's not around to see that change happen in front of his eyes.
He's not going to answer, he's not talking nor giving you what you needed.
"Am I prisoner?" you ask again, another question added to the pile.
"Does it look like you're being held?" he asks back, squatting close to the stove in the fire to the stir his soup. "No. You're not my prisoner."
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He always was a man full of pride, but now it seemed he thrive in it, in sharing his knowledge he was sure it was so powerful he needed to take a pupil, some kind of dark padawan he wanted to train.
"I don't know you anymore Qimir," you state out loud, hoping to talk to him as a long-time friend, as the person he was in love all those years but never acted on it too afraid of the rules at first. "I don't know who you've become, and i've been mourning you like it's only yesterday you vanished from my life, yet you've been alive, plotting against your family."
"Family?" he asks, hurted by the words you choose. "I've never had a family. You know that very well, it was always me against them, against anyone who questioned their power, their use and knowledge of the force."
"So is that how we are going to act now? Like pride is enough to make you leave and act like we were never a thing? That I wouldn’t die for you without even question?" you seem disappointed as you speak — “Why you didn’t kill me back there when you had the chance?”
He's taken back by your words, the sincerity as you admit what it seemed impossible to say back then. It’s known by him the feelings he had for you were enough to stop the whole galaxy, but he never had the courage to say something about it, to go against the rules and let alone admit to you anything at all.
So to know that you care for him, even when you talked about it like it was in the past, is enough to make him short-circuit, to make his face change in a new look.
“You already know why I didn’t kill you” he says it so casually while cooking, that even when you stand in the middle of the room trying to think about anything, anything more that him and his powerful gravity that made you spin around him, drawn by his pulling force — “Doesn’t matter who you stand with, i’d never do anything to you.”
You let that sink in. You let him say it cause maybe, deep down, it’s what you need. Your eyes are full of tears but you don’t want to let any single tear roll from your eyes the second you feel the sadness, you don’t want to show any weakness whatsoever, anything that will make you look less than what you really are.
“I could ask you the same” he says soon after, looking at you from over his shoulder in a low voice that sends shivers down your spine “Why did you let me live back there?”
It’s a bruise in your ego, to your sense of defense — Walls up, not letting any feeling show at all. His question is left out in the space as you look at him through narrowed eyes, reminding yourself he’s the enemy.
He cannot have the satisfaction. He’s the one behind Verosha’s twin sister after all, the one who send her to seek her own revenge. You know you should kill him with no second though, to cease with the leak, destroy the rebel cause that was so dark and powerful, so dangerous, but as before, you can’t hurt him by any chance, too attached to the enemy to even think about using the force against him.
Qimir. You don’t expect him to be alive, to be so angry at his lies. You don’t expect him to be the threat to peace and tranquility you’ve been so warned about.
Fuck that. You can’t deal with him again.
Maybe you are a coward after all, not worthy of being called a Jedi Knight. Always too unsure, questioning if you’re doing things the right way.
It’s not your fight. It’s not your place to be, you’re not his prisoner so you reach your lightsaber quick enough to leave his side, holding the weapon against your bare hands as you leave the cave, facing the daylight and the ocean in front of you.
You're not his prisoner, so you quickly leave as soon as you can leave, unable to hold his gaze anymore, to answer a question you shouldn't be asked. Even if it's cold outside, the sun still shines and you are sure you're going to find a ship that will take you out of there, as far as possible — Maybe, even leave him there.
But when you walk, you're followed close by in silence. Not a prisoner, but not free enough to leave free whiningly.
Even when you pace fasten enough to try to leave him behind, it seems like it's not a physical effort to follow you near by, to follow the same footsteps you give in order to look for a way to get out.
What's his plan anyway? Follow you forever? He's going to get tired soon enough, the problem is you don't have the patience enough to wait for it, you can't wait for Qimir to be enlightened by mercy, to be rational, to let you leave so you can be as far away from him as possible.
So at any sudden sound, you happen to snap, to turn on the sable in one swift movement, quick enough to pull it against his neck, almost touching his skin, the blue light reflecting in his pupils as he seemed pleased by your attention.
That's what he wants in the end. Even if it's anger, he wants to get any reaction out for him.
"Stop following me around" it's a knot on your throat, a sting in the heart as you threat him, the sound of your voice almost mixing with the loud crashing of the ocean. "You said yourself, i'm no prisoner."
He can sense your anger yet he's devastated by what you've become, devastated by finally being in front of you. Even when you're hesitating to spare his life once again, he's driven by the smell he was so caught on before, the memories you brought, attacked by the lonely life he was forced to live, the perks he enjoyed embracing his dark side.
It seems like forever, an eternity while the energy just flows, while the tension consume you both.
You're caught in a spiderweb you cannot get out, cause when he opens his mouth to speak again, you don't expect to make your world tremble that way.
"I was searching for you."
You know what's coming next, the sound of his voice like a recorder playing over and over in your head, the vibrations of his tone matching the ones you've been dreaming about lately.
"I was searching for you. Even in my dreams."
It's enough to make you lower your sable.
To make the stranger smile.
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#cryptfile's happy 100!#qimir x reader#qimir x you#qimir the acolyte#star wars the acolyte#the acolyte#qimir#the stranger x reader#the stranger#qimir x fem!reader#manny jacinto#manny jacinto x reader#cryptfile // star wars#qimir drabble#star wars qimir#star wars x reader#osha aniseya#mae aniseya
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happy birthday sannie - choi san x fem!reader one shot (smut 18+) 🎂
📱pairing: choi san x fem!reader (established relationship)
📱warnings: smut (18+), porn with no plot, explicit language, mutual masturbation, slight degradation, slight angst, use of petnames, phone sex, dirty talk, san has a filthy mouth lmao
📱summary: reader calls to wish san a happy birthday. luckily, they both get a happy ending! 😀
📱a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML 🥳 also, i'm just now realizing how much i write about phone sex lmao. i can't help it! it's fun! 🤠
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This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!
"happy birthday, sannie!"
you squeal into the phone, clutching the comforter to your chest. despite the time difference, you'd never miss the opportunity to wish your boyfriend a happy birthday.
"thank you, my love," he hums, grateful to hear your voice. he knows it's super early in the morning for you, so the gesture makes him happy. even though he feels a little guilty, it's pointless to tell you to get some sleep. after all, he missed you too.
"really wish i could be there with you." san can hear your pout through the phone. it reminds him of the hollow ache in his chest, only filled by your presence. nonetheless, he's happy to have this moment with you now.
"i know, honey. wish you could be here, too," he sighs, relaxing into the stiff hotel couch. "at least you'll be here tomorrow, though."
"that's not soon enough!" you whine, suddenly annoyed by the job that you so desperately wanted all those years ago. you have your dream career. but, days like this make you wish you could pack yourself up in san's suitcase and be with him always.
his answering chuckle is low and deep, causing you to rub your thighs together beneath the comforter. it's been almost a week since you've seen him. he had a fan meeting overseas, and the distance is wearing on both of you.
as your boyfriend rambles about his day, you find yourself getting distracted by flashbacks of the day he left with his members. his strong body hovered over yours, giving you everything he had. that familiar ache between your legs is back, much stronger this time.
"honey, did you hear me?" his inquisitive tone cuts you out of your daydream. your heart beats faster, somehow feeling like san can access the dirty thoughts running through your mind.
"sorry, sannie. i got a little distracted. what did you say?" you mentally scold yourself, embarrassed by your lack of self control.
"i was asking about how your day was?" his innocent question makes shame creep into your heart. he's the caring boyfriend, while you're the horny girlfriend who can't stay focused long enough to answer questions.
"oh, it was pretty good. just missing you a little more today."
"me too, i've been jerking off like crazy."
"san!" his casual tone catches you off guard. but, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.
"don't act coy now, baby. i could hear you breathing heavy when i was trying to talk to you about your day." his tone is slightly condescending and very sexy. if he were here, you can bet he'd be smirking at you and teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
your silence confirms his suspicions, inciting a knowing laugh from him. "you're just so easy to read, sweetie."
"don't tease me," you whine, basking in the slight humiliation you feel. san always know how to push your limits, turning you on like never before.
"tell me what you're wearing." his low pitch is rich and smooth, causing excitement to swirl around in your belly. you mindlessly bring your hand up to your chest, teasing yourself through the thin t shirt.
"i'm wearing your tour merch." a loud groan comes through the phone, followed by the sound of san shuffling around. your words never fail to make him hard.
his mind is overtaken by the thought of you in nothing but his t shirt. if he could have it his way, he'd be with you right now, buried between your thighs. instead, he settles for his hand, teasing himself through the fabric of his pants.
"bet you look so sexy, baby. all laid out on the bed waiting for me." the desperation in his voice strikes through to your core. "bet you do, too," you whine back, picturing his strong body once again.
"need you to touch yourself for me," he instructs, leaving no room for argument. not that you'd even dream of that.
you follow his command, gliding your fingertips down to the top of your panties. blood rushes in your ears, heart beating a mile a minute. taking the plunge, you dip your hand into the fabric, drawing light circles against your clit.
on the other end, san eases his zipper down. his bulge is prominent, and he can feel it throb with everyone sound you make. he teases himself, running a hand along his shaft. his boxers are the only barrier left now and they will be gone soon.
the faint gasp you let out is almost too much for san. unable to tease himself any longer, he pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. the coldness of the room makes him hiss, suddenly feeling more sensitive. he's lewd in the way he spits into his hand, making sure you can hear him.
"t-tell me what you're doing, baby," you pant, now drawing steady circles on your clit. the pressure feels amazing but you need more.
"i'm thinking about that tight pussy. you always squeeze my cock just right." his tone makes you clench around nothing, eager to have him back with you. you slow down, using your fingers to tease the outline of your pussy. "i'm thinking about your cock." your admission makes him pump himself faster, unable to hold back.
the only thing on his mind is you. you. you.
how you look when he stretches you out with his thick fingers, wetness leaking into the palm of his hand. how you look when he's between your thighs, using his tongue to draw figure 8s on your clit. how you look when he's inside you, one hand splayed across your lower back, pounding into you from behind.
that's the image that excites him the most. more precum leaks from his tip, messily mixing with his saliva. he imagines the way he'd paint your body with it.
"need tomorrow to come soon, so i can stretch that pussy out again," he grunts, prompting you to ease your fingers into your opening. "you gonna let me wreck that pussy when you get here?"
another gasp slips through your lips, the slight stretch adding to your pleasure. "w-want you to fuck me now," you whine out, making a scissoring motion with your fingers.
"yeah, bet you'd like that, huh? what a slut. can't even call your boyfriend to wish him a happy birthday without sticking your fingers in your cunt."
"mhmm, 'm your slut, sannie!"
"s-shit. you're so fucking sexy," he huffs, eyes rolling back in pleasure. the only thing to be heard in the hotel room is the vulgar, slick sound of his hand against his cock. he's a mess now, every nerve in his body is awake. every time he gets close to the tip, he feels a zap up pleasure shoot up his spine.
"wanna hear a secret?" the only answer you can offer him is a whimper.
"remember that thong you wore the last time i fucked you?" your voice is so faint, he almost misses your soft yes.
"i brought it here with me. i've been jerking off to it almost every night, imagining your pussy wrapped around my cock."
"ooo, i'm gonna cum, sannie!" it's the last thing you get out before a string of moans. you're seeing white, eyes shut tightly in pleasure. you imagine san fucking your through your orgasm, his hips bumping against your ass.
the sound of your orgasm has san seeing stars. he imagines himself buried inside of you. your pussy is always so slick, wet, and hot. he swears he can almost feel it. with a couple sloppy pumps, he's following right behind you. thick ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, painting across his abs.
both of you pant into the phone, slowly coming down from your high. after catching his breath, san is the first to speak.
"you did such a good job, baby. love hearing you pleasure yourself." his praise makes your cheeks burn, basking in his sweetness.
"thank you, sannie. i love hearing you, too." he snickers at your bashfulness, always surprised by how quickly you get shy on him. he finds it adorable, making him love you even more.
the rest of your conversation carries on, both of you complimenting the other throughout. you can pay attention now, finally feeling satisfied after a long day without your man. san's warm voice makes you feel relaxed, dragging you into a state of tranquility.
"baby? you there?"
silence answers him. he can't help but laugh and think about his sleepy girl. with a dopey smile on his face, he decides to let you get your sleep. he's grateful he was able to satisfy you.
"goodnight, angel. i'll see you soon."
#𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆。 ra ra fics#choi san smut#choi san ateez#choi san x reader#san x reader#san x black!reader#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez fic#ateez scenarios#ateez
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LYV LYV LYYYV LOOK what do you think about a loser haechan who has a popular bestf who is dating the girl of his dreams. he tries his hard to not blush or at least embarrass himself in front of her, but he can't help it and his bestf notices it. so when he invites his gf over, he leaves his door open in a sole purpose of haechan caughting them. and he does. and shamelessly watches, jerking off. his bestf and his gf tease him until he cums, practically sobbing, then he's invited to the partyy
that's what friends are for... | ldh
donghyuck x fem!reader - ft. boyfriend!mark (18+ mdni)
summary: if they even share a place, why wouldn't they do the same with a girlfriend?
a/n: uGH I SUCK AT DOING LOSER BEHAVIOOURURTRR BUT I TRIED IM SORRY LOLA 😓😓 (i changed a few details too, i hope you don't mind).
cw: smut, fingering, masturbation, handjob, exhibitionism (?), voyeurism (?), kinda threesome (???).
haechan was fine just watching you from afar. you were, in his conception, perfect. you're beautiful, funny, smart and so, so damn hot. he knew from the beginning that he had no chance and, when you started dating mark, his best friend, haechan's dream became even more distant.
it was the quintessential model couple of the year. everything appeared to be in order – the beautiful girl with her popular boyfriend, living out their own version of a fairy tale, just as it was often seen with those who fit the mold.
even though he was content with that. he found solace in the fact that he and mark were roommates. you were frequently around their shared space, and that alone satisfied him more than anything he could possibly hope for. the fact that you acknowledged his existence and even engaged in conversation, made him feel like he had won the lottery.
acting cool in your presence was a must! he was determined to emulate mark's demeanor, hoping that if he imitated his behavior, you might like him more. every opportunity he had, he would try to impress you – he'd show off his achievements in nintendo ds games, his latest skin collections in league of legends, or even try to explain complex physics problems just to catch your attention.
he wasn't entirely certain whether you were laughing with or at him, but he appreciated having your attention nonetheless. whenever he made a jest and you responded with a laugh, saying things like"yeah, really awesome, haechan," he couldn't help but feel a sense of joy at the fact that he was the one who made you smile.
oh, he loved it every time he heard his name rolling off your tongue. he wished he could hear you moaning it while he fucks your pretty pussy, but it's always mark's name that escaped your lips in those moments, the same name that he heard you moan countless times while he pretended to sleep in his room, listening to all the lewd sounds coming from mark's room.
god, how he wished it was him in that moment. he would be so good to you, even better than mark. but life is so unfair, and he has to be settle for fucking his own fist while thinking about you, imagining what it would be like to have you wrapped around him, or to have your thighs around his head while he eats you out and swallows all of your sweet juices and—
“baby, stop,” haechan was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, followed by your sweet giggle. he quickly turned his attention to you, dropping everything he was doing on the computer. he was surprised that you were there this late, he hadn't expected you to come over tonight.
haechan rose from his comfortable chair and slowly cracked open the door of his room to get a glimpse of the scene unfolding just outside. his heart skipping a few beats as he saw you pressed against the wall, with mark showering your neck with kisses.
"c'mon, babe,” he already knew what you were talking about. “you know he loves it," mark muttered against your skin, his kisses trailing up towards your lips.
mark was all too aware of haechan's feelings towards you, despite the boy's efforts to be subtle. he had observed the way haechan looked at you, how he often used a pillow to conceal the growing bulge in his pants every time you sauntered around in a mini-skirt, how he tried to linger around any room you were in, how he stutters or stumbles over his words whenever you speak to him, how he desperately seeks your attention and approval, often agreeing with whatever you say.
"don't worry about it," he nibbled on your lower lip, his voice dropping to a soft whisper, “i’m sure he will love to hear you screaming how much you love my—"
"mark!" you whispered loudly, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, drawing a chuckle from him. mark led you to his room and gently pushed you down onto the bed. despite your protests, you made no effort to stop his advances.
mark didn't pay any mind to closing the door, his focus entirely on you. he quickly climbed over you, ravishing your lips in a needy kiss. his hands roamed all over your body, slipping under your shorts and soon under your panties, his touch eager and urgent.
meanwhile, hyuck watched the scene unfolding before him, holding his breath in anticipation. he could feel his boxers becoming increasingly tight, constricting his growing arousal. he tried to look away, to distract himself from the sight of you and mark together. he knew he shouldn't be watching, but he just couldn't tear his gaze away.
mark spoke against your lips, sensing the pair of eyes fixed on you both. "he's watching us," he murmured. "again?" you questioned softly, stealing a quick glance towards haechan's room and noticing him lingering there, peeking through the crack in the door. mark smirked, pulling away to whisper in your ear, "i had an idea....”
haechan noticed a shift in the atmosphere and became concerned that he might be found out. he couldn't quite make out what mark was whispering in your ear, but he saw the faint smile on your lips and the glimmer in your eyes as you listened intently to mark's words.
haechan's worry evaporated into thin air as soon as you changed position on the bed, Instead, he just opened the door wider to get a better view. mark was now behind you, your back resting against his chest, and both of you were facing him. in a more logical state of mind, hyuck would have found it strange, but in the moment, he was beyond caring when he saw you sliding your shorts down.
it felt like his breath hitched in his throat as he caught a glimpse of your panties, and his eyes were glued to your every move. he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulled them off, revealing more of yourself to him.
when you finely pulled it off, he moaned softly at the sight of your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy dripping wet. he thought he was going to cum right there. he didn't even notice when he himself pulled down his own pants, freeing his aching cock that stood proudly and ready.
he slowly wrapped his hand around his shaft, the dry sensations of his mouth were suddenly replaced by the wetness of his tongue as it moistened his lips, swallowing hard as he saw mark's hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he kissed you.
“mmh, look at this,” mark mused with a small smile as his fingers found their way to your pussy, parting your folds and teasing your entrance, a gasp escaping your lips. “you’re so wet, babe,” he bit your shoulder softly.
haechan's knees felt like they were going to give out, but he managed to stand firm, his attention completely fixated on your beautiful cunt. he started to stroke his dick slowly, the precum facilitating movement.
“don’t close your legs, let him see how good you are to me, huh?” mark whispered in your ear, not giving you the chance to respond by sliding two fingers inside you, pumping slowly while watching your reaction, delighting in your moans and whimpers.
haechan did the same, watching as mark's fingers disappeared inside your hole, how eagerly you welcomed him. hyuck's grip on his dick was a little tighter as he quickened his pace at the same time mark quickened his, all his senses focused on the lewd sounds of your cunt and the priceless sight before his eyes.
donghyuck didn't even notice when he was the one moaning, and it wasn't a subtle sound, he was loud. he was imagining what it would be like to shove his cock in your tight pussy, imagining that it wasn't his own hand that he was fucking now, but you.
he focused into hearing your sweet moans, the way you tried to close your legs and mark held it place, fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your clit.
“fuck,” hyuck's jaw clenched, his cum beginning to pearl at the tip of his cock, ready to spurt out. he moaned your name shamelessly, his head thrown back, letting out a tortured groan, his hand faltering for a moment before regaining its rhythm, his fingers flying over his cock in a blur, "fuck...", he growled, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles trembling with restraint.
"that's it, babe," mark murmured in your ear, his kisses trailing down your neck. "i know you're close," he continued, his voice filled with desire. "i want you to call for him when you reach that point. can you do that for me?” mark nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, eagerly anticipating your response.
your words came out in a shaky and breathless whisper, "y-yes," was all you managed to utter in that moment. your toes involuntarily curled, and your fingers clutched tightly onto mark's thigh, pressing your back against him as you felt the mounting pressure building towards your climax.
you could also hear faint sounds of pleasure coming from the other room and see the way haechan touched himself, adding another layer of excitement to the moment. unable to hold back any longer, you succumbed to the pleasure and came all over mark's fingers, your moan of hyuck's name escaping your lips just as he had requested.
he wasn't expecting that at all. the way his name came from your lips right when you were cumming made donghyuck's control snap, his cum jetting out in thick, ropesy strands, coating his hand, a triumphant cry torn from his lips as he came hard, his body shuddering with release.
both of you and haechan were panting, riding out of your orgasms. mark whispered a few praises on your ear followed by sweet kisses before turning his attention for haechan.
he gave a mischievous chuckle, his voice slightly raised as he posed the question, "yo, did you enjoy the show?" hyuck's heart skipped a beat as the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes widening in shock. he quickly tried to compose himself, awkwardly yanking up his pants in a flustered panic, nearly tripping and falling to the floor.
"i-i-i’m sorry," he stuttered frantically, desperately avoiding eye contact as he looked down at his feet. however, he was taken completely by surprise when your unexpected question echoed through the room. "you wanna join us?" his head shot up in disbelief, his heart racing at the proposition and his cock backing to life again.
his throat went dry and his stomach flipped, the sudden request leaving him speechless. he couldn't believe what he just heard, but before he could even begin to form an answer, his body seemed to move on its own, and he found himself walking towards mark’s room in quick steps.
you and mark shared a knowing glance, both unable to suppress a laugh as you noticed the hasty decision he had made. there he stood awkwardly in front of you, his flushed cheeks and downturned gaze only adding to the charm of the situation.
mark let out a chuckle, his gaze fixed on hyuck as he caressed your thighs absently. "dude, chill," he joked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "it's not like this is the first time you've acted like a perv," you chimed in, finding his demeanor endearingly adorable.
before he could even protest, you reached out and took his hands, gently pulling him toward you on the bed. the mere touch of your skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, his nerves singing under the simple contact.
his heart pounded in his chest as you guided him onto the bed, his breath hitching as he found himself suddenly so close to you. hyuck's mind was racing, trying to comprehend what was happening and how he had ended up in this situation.
hyuck glanced hesitantly at mark, who was still seated behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be there, that he was intruding on something private. he nervously sought approval from his friend, expecting anger or disapproval, but instead, mark responded with an earnest nod of encouragement.
hyuck's gaze met yours, and he saw the desire burning in your eyes, leaving him feeling breathless. for a moment, he wanted to ask if this was really happening, but the words died on his lips as you cupped his face and brought him even closer. his breath came out in uneven gasps as you hovered your lips tantalizingly close to his.
he could feel your warm breath against his skin, a delicious torturous tease, and he leaned in instinctively, his own breaths shallow as he sought to close the tiny gap between you. the heat of the moment made his head feel light, and all he could focus on was the magnetic pull between you two.
you pull back slightly as he leans in, his anticipation palpable. "patience," you whisper, your voice sultry, drawing out the moment. your hands trail down his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. you let your finger linger on the edge of his shirt, a mere inch away from slipping under the fabric and caressing the skin beneath. "you've waited long enough, haven't you?”
you see the mix of frustration and desire in his eyes, the way he looks at you begging to be touched. but you're not done playing yet. you lean in and whisper in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. "are you going to be patient and wait for me like a good boy?" your fingers lightly trace the outline of his collarbone, making him shiver.
“y-yes, i'll be good, i-i promise,” you can hear the desperation on his voice and feel the tension in his body, his muscles taut and coiled like a spring, ready to snap. your fingers trail down to the waistband of his pants, and you toy with the fabric, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back into place.
you hummed with satisfaction, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his ear. you could sense the way he craved your attention and knew how long he had been silently pining for you. deciding to give him a little taste of what he had been yearning for, you whispered sultrily, "i think you deserve a little reward,” you purred. “you want it?
he eagerly begged, his voice strained and desperate. "yes, yes, please, anything," he whined, his body practically writhing with need as he tried to press himself closer to you. it was as if he was a little puppy, anxiously seeking affection from its owner. "i-i'll do anything, just please touch me.”
you couldn't help but laugh warmly as you held his face in your hands, and he eagerly leaned into your touch like a well-behaved pet. you didn't want to make him wait any longer, so you quickly pulled him into a kiss, greedily delving your tongue into his mouth with a feverish intensity. he moaned in response, his body melting under your touch as his lips eagerly sought out yours, hungrily kissing you back.
he tasted sweet and addictive, and you felt yourself getting lost in the kiss, the way his mouth moved against yours, the little sighs and gasps that escaped him.
your hands slowly slid down from his face, exploring the contour of his neck before dropping lower and lower. they slid under the waistband of his pants, finding their target with a highly precision. you wrapped your hands around his hard cock, causing his gasp to mingle with a loud moan as the sudden sensation overloaded his senses.
the reality was so much better than any fantasy he had ever entertained. he had spent countless hours imagining what it would feel like to have your hands on him, but never in his wildest dreams could he have anticipated the sheer thrill of your touch.
his hips stirred, a slow roll, a lazy, indulgent movement, his cock starting to swell under your ministrations. his hips began to move, subtle, rhythmic, urging your hand to follow the motion.
instead of the pleasure he sought, you gave him a tight squeeze, just enough to make him wince slightly. it was a clear warning for him to stop, and he immediately obeyed, his face contorting in discomfort before settling back into a neutral expression. his body tensed up as if preparing to resist, but he managed to hold back his usual impulsive reaction, instead listening to your wordless reprimand.
"i thought i told you to be patient, hyuck," you scolded gently, your grip on him growing firmer. he let out a cry of apology, his soft plea of "i'm sorry, i'm sorry" escaping his lips. the pained expression on his face was a clear display of his submission, his body quivering under the pressure of your touch.
mark's voice reached your ears, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "babe, i’m starting to feel a little jealous here," he teased, his hands slowly roaming under your shirt, their path heading towards your chest.
you couldn't help but break your focus on hyuck for a moment, loosening your grip on his dick. your attention turning to your boyfriend as you felt his hands roaming freely underneath your clothes.
“i'm sorry, he just so cute,” mark held the side of your face and turned your head towards him, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, silencing your giggle.
haechan watched from the sidelines, feeling a pang of longing as he saw the affectionate display between you two. he could feel his desire growing stronger, eager to feel your touch again and to kiss you once more, the way your hand remained still on his throbbing cock making all that feel even more torturous.
mark opened his eyes and threw a quick glance at haechan, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, as if noticing the boy's silent yearning.
mark spoke playfully against your lips, “i think he’s trying to steal your attention from me again," he teased. you couldn’t help but smile at his words, pulling away and glancing back at donghyuck, who was once again looking at you with those puppy eyes, obediently waiting for your attention.
you looked at hyuck and gave a gentle command, "take off your clothes, hyuck. i can't touch you properly like that, hm?" before you even finished your sentence, he was already shedding his clothes, his eagerness to feel your touch overriding any self-consciousness he might have felt at the moment.
mark seized the opportunity to slowly remove your remaining clothing, relishing the sight of your naked form on full display for him. it was almost comical how he was the only one still fully clothed, but he had plans to make you beg for him later.
hyuck almost came on the spot when he saw you completely naked, the sight much better than anything he had ever imagined.
you adjusted your position, sitting on mark's lap, your legs on each side of him. meanwhile, hyuck stayed beside you, your mouth almost salivating at the sight of his throbbing dick, begging for relief. mark's hands moved over your sides, slowly gliding up to your boobs.
his thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing, circling, his fingers closing around your breasts, squeezing gently, tenderly, his head dipping low, his hot breath washing over your skin, making goosebumps rise, before his lips closed around one nipple, sucking hard, pulling a tiny whimper from your lips.
before haechan could even feel a pang of jealousy, wanting to experience the same pleasure as mark, he was quickly distracted by your hand wrapping around him once more, gently stroking his length. the sudden attention made him forget whatever thought he had.
his lips curled into a snarl, a mix of pain and pleasure, as your fingers constricted around him, the strokes agonizingly slow, driving him to the edge, "...faster...", he ground out, his body straining against yours, his hips bucking up, involuntarily seeking relief, "...harder...", his hands grasped the sheets beside him, knuckles white, fingernails digging in. “please,” he pleaded.
deciding to comply with his request, you moved your hand faster. his head tossed back, the veins in his neck bulging, his breathing ragged, gasping, "y-yes, please," he managed to whine through the pleasure, his voice barely audible as the words left his lips in a pleading whimper.
he looked at you with tears in his eyes, the feeling of your touch overwhelming him, his moans of your name spilling from his lips like a desperate prayer. he looked wrecked, a mess of tears and whines, his eyes begging for more, unable to form any coherent words.
he wouldn't last long, he was already on edge. “cum for me, love,” your beathy words were like a cue, his cock pulsating in your hand, spilling streams of cum, warm and sticky. the cry came from his throat, primal, raw, unbridled, as he came apart at the seams, lost in the blissful chaos of ecstasy.
if that's how he acts with just a simple handjob, you can't even imagine how he will look when you actually fuck him.
his chest heaved, still catching his breath, his eyelids fluttering open, dazed, unfocused, his pupils dilated, darkening further as his gaze locked onto mark's sucking your tits, he wanted to make you feel good too, his mouth watering at the prospect, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“don't worry, hyuck,” you let out a soft moan, his name falling from your lips like a sweet praise, bringing his attention back to you. "we're just getting started, sweetie.”
#haechan smut#mark lee smut#haechan x reader#mark x reader#nct smut#nct x reader#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader
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Yay! Your request is open!! 🥰 I hope this makes sense to you. I don’t see any rules that you don’t write for but I’m going to giving try. If you’re not comfortable with, ignore it.
Rockstar!Eddie x pregnant!reader: angst/fluff; eddie have gone pretty much all over the world for the band. He kept the promise that he’ll be home to his wife before a baby comes but the flight was delayed and worried he won’t be home. He really needs a miracle.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Dad's promise
Eddie was having the time of his life on tour with his band. They traveled all over the world and had their last show. He couldn't wait to be home with his wife. She was amazing and supported Eddie's dream. She only had one rule- he HAD to be home for the birth.
He promised he would not miss the birth of their first child and he did everything in his power to stand by that. He was rushing the band to the airport, refusing to let any of them stop for snacks or even use the bathroom. He wanted to be on the flight on time and go home to his wife.
He talked to her every day and he missed her like crazy. He got her and the baby a gift from every stop on the tour, he didn't care that he had to pay for another carry-on. His phone was blowing up from Y/N, alerting him that she was going into labor and he needed to get home as fast as he could.
He was sitting in his seat, practically shaking as he looked around. A flight attendant walked past and he was quick to call out to her.
"Excuse me, how long until we take off?"
"Should be any minute, sir." She said, a big smile on her face as she walked away. Eddie groaned but accepted the answer. He tried to calm himself down but it was clear he was panicking.
"We'll get you there as fast as we can, kid." Eddie's manager said as he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I have to make it back. If I don't she'll never forgive me and I won't forgive myself." Eddie said he closed his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing stable.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are looking at an hour delay and will continue to give updates throughout the hour. Thank you."
"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie groaned, and a few people turned to look at him with a disapproving look. But he didn't care, he was about to have a panic attack.
"Just breathe, Eddie. There's a chance she still might be in labor by the time we arrive." His manager said but Eddie was unbuckling from his seat.
"Not a chance I'm willing to take. I made a promise and I'm not letting her do this alone." Eddie snapped, grabbing his bags and demanding for the doors to open.
~~~
"Where is he?" Y/N cried, sweat covering her body as she screamed out. The pain was becoming unbearable and she was getting scared Eddie wasn't going to make it.
"I'm sure he'll be here any minute. Keep breathing," the nurse said as she allowed Y/N to grip her hand.
"How close am I?" Y/N asked, her eyes traveled to the door.
"The baby is ready now," the doctor said, Y/N shook her head no as he sat down.
"No, no. We have to wait for my husband! He's coming!" She panicked
"I'm sorry but we can't wait," the doctor said. Y/N begged and begged but the doctor continued to prep for the baby.
Y/N cried but did what she had to do. She gripped the nurse's hand and began to push.
~
Eddie ran into the hospital, smacking into the front desk as he frantically asked for his wife's room.
"I'll take you there and prep you"
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief that he made it in time, following behind the lady as she took him through the doors.
He listened carefully as the lady told him what to do and how to wear the appropriate clothes. His hands were shaking, wishing the lady would stop talking and let him in the damn room.
Once she told him the number, he was running down the hallway. His eyes scanned the numbers as fast as he could.
~
Y/N screamed as she continued to push, her sweat and tears mixing as they fell down her neck.
"I see the head, keep pushing, Y/N. You got this!" The doctor encouraged. Y/N nodded and took a second to breathe.
The door burst open, and Eddie came running in. Once they made eye contact, they both sighed with relief.
"Oh, thank God," Y/N laughed. Eddie smiled and was quick to switch spots with the nurse. He grabbed her hand and gave it a small kiss.
"I'm here, I'm here. You can do it, love." He whispered to her, but she kept her eyes on him. She smiled through her tears and nodded.
"I tried to make them wait"
Eddie chucked at her words, "That's okay. I'm here so let's do this, yeah? Have us a baby?"
She nodded and turned back to the doctor, her hand holding Eddie's as she began to push again. She felt far less scared now that he was here.
With a few final pushes, the sound of a baby crying filled the room. Eddie kept his hand with her but moved to see the baby.
"Congratulations, you have a baby girl"
Eddie leaned over and kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, pushing back her hair.
"You did it!" He smiled, kissing her again and again.
Once they cleared the baby up, the doctor passed her to Y/N.
"She's beautiful," Y/N gasped. She held the tiny baby in her arms, her heart full.
"Just like you," Eddie whispered, speaking as softly as he could. He reached over and softly touched the baby's head.
"I can't believe I'm a girl Dad"
Y/N looked up at him, watching as his eyes filled with tears. Eddie felt her staring and looked back at her. He never thought he'd have his own little family in a million years, but here he was.
"You two are going to be my whole world"
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#ashwhowrites#eddie munson angst x reader#dad Eddie munson x mom reader
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work for it
jude bellingham x reader
a/n: based on this because i can't get over it
summary: jude slides into your dms and what follows is something you could have never imagined
navigation masterlist
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
instagram:
judebellingham started following you
surely not? why was the jude bellingham following you??
yourusername added to their story
↳ judebellingham: 😍😍
yourusername: hello 🤨
judebellingham: hey
judebellingham: just wanted to say i think you're gorgeous
yourusername: thank you 🫶
judebellingham: anytime
you couldn't actually believe what you were seeing. jude bellingham calling you gorgeous? what sort of dream were you living in? you tried not to get too excited, you'd heard all about his reputation and he'd probably never give you a second thought. but you were wrong.
2 days later
instagram
judebellingham: hey
judebellingham: how are you doing
yourusername: i'm doing great
yourusername: how are you doing? i saw your last few madrid games and you played great
judebellingham: thanks. i'm good
judebellingham: maybe you should come to a game one day 😉
the next 6 months that followed were a dream. you'd exchanged phone numbers with jude a month after your first conversation and you'd spoken every day since. you'd congratulated him after every win and comforted him after every loss. facetiming eachother became your nightly routine and you couldn't believe how lucky you were.
but you tried to take it all with a grain of salt. jude had a reputation of being a player, something you already knew and had been reminded of by your friends. you were more than a fuck and you wanted jude to know that.
jude: hey love
jude: i've got a big game and i was wondering if you want to come and then stay over with me for a few days? i really wanna see you again
you: i'll try to come but i don't know if i'll be able to get the time off
jude: just let me know so i can get enough tickets x
you didn't really know how to react. you loved meeting jude for the first time, but the idea of going over to stay with him scared you. you'd started to really like jude, and worried that he only wanted to get you to come over to him so sleep with you.
you knew all about his reputation, and you didn't think you knew him well enough so you slowly distanced yourself from jude.
jude: can you come? we haven't spoke in a few days and i need to know
you: i can't come sorry. the next weeks just super busy for me :(
the following week consisted of you and jude barely speaking. you felt bad about it, you didn't mean to upset him but you didn't want to get your hopes up. you'd heard about footballers and the way they had casual hookups then ignored girls. you didn't want that. you were worth more than that and you didn't want to get hurt by jude because he didn't have the same intentions as you.
but jude was on the exact same page as you. he didn't understand why you'd just basically disappeared, had he done something wrong? did he make you feel like he was rushing you? he'd tried to call you, but you didn't answer, instead texting him a simple "sorry i've been busy lately" and leaving him alone.
at first jude tried to appreciate that you were just abit busy. he knew you cared alot about your studies and work and were independent, but he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt. nothing in your routine had actually changed, and jude had started to get the impression you were ignoring him on purpose.
you wouldn't answer his calls and barely texted him, so he decided to come to you. he messaged one of your closest friends that he'd met before and asked her to help him suprise you.
the pounding on your door abruptly woke you up, and you swung it open with a scowl on your face until you saw who was behind it. your eyes locked with judes, and you couldn't actually believe he was infront of you holding the biggest bunch or roses you'd ever seen.
jude's heart melted at the sight of you. your hair messy, a duvet wrapped about you and a tired grin on your face. "jude?"
"hi" his voice was shakey but he smiled widely regardless.
"what're you doing here? come in you're gonna get ill"
he stepped in, shutting the door behind him but he didn't dare move any further. "i'm sorry. if you want me to leave i will but i just wanted to see that you were ok. we've suddenly just stopped speaking and i was worried that i pressured you. i'm sorry if i made you think i was pushing you to get too serious to fast. i just really like you"
"seriously?"
"yes"
"jude i'm so sorry. i didn't wanna upset you i just got scared. i know all about footballers reputations and yours and i just didn't wanna be another girl that you just sleep with then ignore" you felt mean saying it. super mean.
"what? look i've done that before but you're so so different. everything about you is so perfect. your laugh, your eyes, how kind you are, the way you always see the best in people. i've known you for six months but i feel like i've known you all my life. you're literally perfect. i'm sorry if i made you feel like i didn't see you that way. i will do whatever it takes to prove to you how much you mean to me" he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and you leaned into them, the warmth of his palms and his words making love wash over you.
"i really really like you jude" you mumbled, and he grinned wide "good cause i really really like you too"
"y'know, if you can still get me tickets i'll come to your matches"
"don't feel like you have to baby"
"i do. i want us to spend more time together jude"
he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. "d'ya wanna go and get breakfast tomorrow? it can be our first proper date" he lightly pinched your side, melting when he felt a smile form on your face. "i'd like that"
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fic#football imagine#football one shot#footballer drabble#footballer imagine
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warnings: weed, lots of smoochin', things get a little hot and heavy, mentions of and allusions to sex, but nothing beyond him rubbing you through your shorts, fem!reader, not proofread
smoking with higuruma hiromi on the balcony of his apartment is a dream. the twinkle of the city lights is almost mesmerizing as the smoke leaves your lips, your brain feeling more syrupy by the second.
you're basically sitting on his lap since he's pulled your legs to rest over his and his arm around your shoulders. the summer evening is warm, but pleasant now that the sun has set.
you admire hiromi's side profile as he breathes out a cloud of smoke. he's as gorgeous as ever, and you can't help but smile a bit as your eyes slowly follow every curve and line of his handsome face.
"is there something on my face, sweetheart?" hiromi asks, startling you out of your daydreaming.
your eyes find his, and your smile grows when you see the gentle expression on his face.
"no," you reply, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "you're just so handsome, 'romi. just gorgeous."
hiromi snubs out the joint so he has a free hand to hold the side of your face when he pulls you in for a kiss. it's all love—slow, sensual, a little bit hungry—and you feel like you're in heaven.
he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let him in, let him pull you even closer. you rest one of your hands on his chest and thread the other through his thick black hair. you tug at the roots gently and hiromi groans into your mouth and now you're certain this must be heaven.
hiromi chases your lips for one more quick peck when you pull away to catch your breath, and you giggle at how adorable your fiancé is.
"love you so much, baby," he breathes with a blissful smile on his face, pulling you all the way onto his lap.
you hold his face with both hands now, taking a moment to admire him, "i love you too, handsome." you kiss his nose softly before resting your forehead against his, noses against each other. "love spending time with you, love kissing you, love ..." you pause, heat rising to your cheeks when your thoughts turn dirty. "i love everything about you, hiromi.
he pulls back with a grin, "yeah, baby? what else do you love? what were you thinking about?"
sometimes you hate how well your lover knows you, "don't tease me, hiromi, you know what i was thinking about," you pout.
he gives your lips a quick kiss, "c'mon pretty girl, just tell me what was on your mind. who knows, maybe i can make your dreams a reality."
your cheeks really heat up now, but you're so undeniably turned on by the way hiromi is devouring you with his eyes. although, you're doing the exact same thing—imagining him doing what he says he might, how sexy he looks with his hair a little messy and his shirt halfway unbuttoned.
"was thinking about how good you fuck me," you admit, looking at him through your eyelashes.
he smirks before his lips find your neck, kissing and sucking softly, "i know, baby. i was thinking about the same thing." his hands travel up from your hips, slipping under your shirt until his hands rest just below your breasts. "will you let me show you how much i love it? how much i love you?"
you arch into his touch as his lips move along every inch of your neck and your chest, mouthing over the curve of your breasts that are available in the top you're wearing.
"yes," you breathe softly, "please show me, hiromi."
he takes his lips away from your chest to kiss your lips again, deep and passionate and eager. his hands, however, travel back down your body, his thumb quickly finding your clit even through your thin shorts, forcing a moan to spill from your lips.
"good answer, pretty baby," he kisses you one more time. "gonna make you feel so good, just like you deserve, angel."
sorry to cut it off right before the real smut but not really that sorry
jjk masterlist
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk higuruma#higuruma hiromi#jjk higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader#higuruma smut#cw weed#x female reader
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cliche but I’m a sucker for those tropes where she’s the dare matheo’s friends made him bet on and she finds out
I love those tropes too, it hurts, but is so good. Thank youuuuuu! <3
Bet
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Angsty, one use of 'shitty', I think that's it.
You and Mattheo had been dating for just 3 months now. It had been going great. Your dates were always really fun and nice. You always seemed to be hanging out and kissing and holding hands and just being a regular grossly cute couple. It was all so perfect.
That was until you were coming up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower to hang out with the boys. They were up there already and talking and you heard your name so you stopped to listen.
“It's been 3 months with (Y/N). I guess that means you win.” You heard Enzo say, just making you confused.
“I can't believe you did it. I thought you'd get bored of her after 2 weeks.” Theo added.
“You guys should already know how seriously I take bets. I like proving you guys wrong.” Mattheo, your boyfriend, said.
“I think you just like taking our money.” Draco said and the boys laughed.
You felt sick. You were a bet?
You stood on the stairs for a moment, just taking in the conversation and if you paid attention, you could even hear the money being exchanged, the little clinking of coins as they were being passed.
You turned around, hurrying down the stairs as quietly as you could. How humiliating. How could you face any of them again?
You actually really liked Mattheo. He was so sweet and made you laugh and made you feel appreciated. And now you just felt sick and horrible. How could someone fake all that?
You went back to your dorm, unsure if you should hurl or cry. Instead, you settled for going to sleep, not even bothering to change as you settled into your bed, hiding under the blankets. Was it embarrassing to throw yourself a pity party over a boy toying with your feelings? Yes. But right now, you didn't care. You just wanted to sleep and hopefully wake up to either that conversation being a cruel dream or Mattheo never existing.
It took a lot of tossing and turning, but you managed to get to sleep. You woke up in the morning all sweaty and still upset. You didn't wanna get out of bed. You knew getting up meant that you'd have to see him and probably confront him and you didn't know if you were ready for that.
You forced yourself out of bed anyways, knowing there were still classes today, and as much as you would've loved to sulk in bed, you couldn't miss lessons. You got ready for the day, showering and getting dressed in your uniform before heading out.
Only Mattheo was in front of your door when you opened it, holding a pastry and some drink with a look of concern. You froze, not sure what to do.
“Morning, princess. We missed you last night.” He said, offering you the food and drink.
“I was too tired.” You lied, stepping out of your dorm and closing the door. You accepted the food and drink knowing you'll probably just end up throwing it away anyways. Your stomach still felt too sick to eat.
“You could've told me, angel. I would've just spent the night with you. You know I'd rather spend time with you.” He said with a soft smile.
“Sorry. I wasn't really thinking.” You said and started making your way to your class.
Mattheo was quick to follow. “It's alright. I was just worried. Plus, I missed you.” He said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
The contact made you feel gross. It didn't feel right anymore. But you kept your mouth shut for now. You didn't want to make a scene before classes. You were already embarrassed as is, if everyone knew you were just a bet because you fought with Mattheo in front of everyone, you'd probably die.
Classes were awful. They probably would've been normal, even good, if that pit in your stomach would've left. You felt too sick to eat other than a few bites at lunch. You locked yourself in your dorm after classes and tried busying yourself with schoolwork. It was really hard to concentrate, though. Merlin, in only 3 months, you had a few pictures of him in your dorm. Not to mention a shitty necklace he bought that hung around your neck. You took it off and tossed it to your bed so you wouldn't be seeing it every time you looked down at your work. Even put the pictures away in a drawer so you could focus.
You got so focused in schoolwork, a good distraction from your asshole boyfriend. You still felt horrible, but at least you weren't thinking of him as you answered questions about the history of magic. You didn't even notice you missed dinner as you sat at your desk, throwing yourself into work instead of sulking.
You got pulled out of your little world as someone knocked on the door. You looked at the door for a second before standing up and opening it to see Mattheo again, standing there with a plate of food and a smile.
“Hey, princess. You missed dinner, so I brought you something. I don't want you starving.” He said.
“Thanks. I was just caught up in some schoolwork.” You said as you took the plate, this time it was the truth. Even just looking at the food made you sick. Why was he being so sweet when this is all a lie?
“Is everything okay?” He asked and you noticed you were making a sour face at the food.
“I don't feel like eating.” You said simply.
“Why? Are you feeling sick?” He asked, reaching a hand out to feel your forehead for a fever.
You stopped his hand by pushing his arm away. “I'm not sick.”
He frowned at you not letting him touch you. “Then what's going on?” His eyes looked over you, stopping around your chest. “You aren't wearing my necklace.” He noted, knowing you haven't taken it off since he gave it to you.
You couldn't do it anymore. “Was I just a bet?” You asked, matching his frown.
His face softened slightly as his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. He didn't wanna say ‘yes’ but he didn't wanna lie either.
It answered your question anyways and you felt tears stinging your eyes at the confirmation. “Don't bother me ever again.” You said and shoved the plate of food at him, letting go before he could even react to grab it, making it fall to the floor as you closed the door on him.
He stood outside your door, trying to gather his thoughts as to what to do next. You may have been just a bet to start with, but, Merlin, help him, he was falling hard for you.
You curled up in your bed again, too depressed to even think about continuing your schoolwork.
The next few days were spent trying to avoid Mattheo and his friends while getting through classes. You saw him try to approach you several times, but you dodged him every time. You missed him and you hated yourself for even thinking that. He hurt you. Why did you miss him?
It wasn't until almost a week later, when you came back to your dorm after classes, you opened the door to see Mattheo leaning against your desk, looking at one of the pictures you shoved in a drawer. You dropped your bag to the floor beside you with a sigh as he looked up at you, standing up straight as he put the picture down.
You crossed your arms as you looked at him. “I told you not to bother me again.”
“I'm sorry.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “I'll do anything you want but that. I know you're upset. Kick me, punch me, hex me. Do whatever will make you feel better. But I can't just leave you alone.” He looked like he wanted to touch you, but put his hands in his pockets instead.
“I don't care, just leave.” You said, gesturing to the open door.
He went over to the door, but instead of leaving, he just closed it. “I'll be honest, completely honest. Yes, you were a bet. It was supposed to be something fun for me and my friends, but instead, I ended up getting feelings for you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “So what? You want me to forget that what you did hurt me? You want me to pretend that you didn't have the intentions to play with my feelings and use me for fun?” The hurt and anger was obvious in your tone.
“No. You're right. What I did was awful and I shouldn't have done it.” He said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the floor.
“So what do you want from me?” You asked, your tone was still harsh.
“You. I want you.” His answer was immediate as he took another step towards you.
You looked away, sighing again in frustration. “I can't just forget and ignore what you did.”
“Please, (Y/N). I'll do anything.” He said, now reaching out for your hand but you step back out of his reach.
“How much?” You asked.
“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he let his hand fall by his side again.
“How much? How much did you get from the bet?”
He hesitated before answering, obviously not fond of the question. “100 galleons.”
“Did you get it? You win?” You asked, the harshness in your tone causing him to shift uncomfortably.
“Yeah.” He said, putting his hand back in his pocket.
“You mean it? For real? About you catching feelings?” You asked a little softer.
“I do.” He really didn't wanna say more than you asked in case he said the wrong thing, so he bit his tongue to not ramble about his feelings towards you.
You stared at him as you thought about what to do. He hurt you, but you actually had feelings for him too. “Was anything else a lie?”
“No. Everything I said and did was all me. No lies, no acts. I was being me. The real me.” He took another step towards you.
You let out a long exhale as you thought. If he was being genuine, then you guys could restart properly. But he wasn't genuine before, so why should you believe him now?
“Please.” He said softly as he stepped towards you again, nearly toe-to-toe with you.
You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing what you were about to do was stupid. “On conditions.” You say and open your eyes to look at him.
His face immediately lit up as he nodded. “Anything.”
“I want the money.” You said and he smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “Not fair you played me and got money for it. Not fair for your friends to get it back either since they made the bet with you.”
“Absolutely. I was gonna take you somewhere nice with it and maybe buy you something, but whatever you want.” He said.
You almost smiled at the thought, but wanted to keep up being angry with him. “I want an apology and love letter. Handwritten until your hand hurts.”
“Fair.” He nodded, his smile getting bigger.
“I want apologies from everyone involved with the bet too.” You added.
He tilted his head in thought. “I can do that.”
“Better get started.”
“Right after this.” He said and cupped your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you gently. “You're so cute when you're upset.”
“I'm about to be downright adorable if you don't get to work now, Riddle.”
“Fine.” He said, stepping back towards your door. “You're gonna love me tomorrow, though! Just wait!” He smiled at you as he left your dorm.
Taglist:
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@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader
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100 Ways to say "I Care"
See the original 100 Ways to say "I Love You" list here: [x] I was inspired to make one of my own for caretaking themes 💕
"I'm here."
"Stay still."
"Trust me."
"You're safe."
"I've got you."
"I don't mind."
"I'm not mad."
"Lean on me."
"I understand."
"It's no bother."
"I'll clean it up."
"Take my coat."
"Need a hand?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'll handle this."
"Happy to help."
"Get some rest."
"Can I hug you?"
"I'll get the light."
"I can't lose you."
"Shh, don't cry..."
"My door's open."
"Take small sips."
"Stay behind me."
"I'll walk with you."
"Feel better soon."
"You're not alone."
"How'd you sleep?"
"I just want to help."
"I've got your back."
"Please be careful."
"It wasn't your fault."
"I'm a good listener."
"Let me help you up."
"When I say run, run."
"I'm glad you're okay."
"You're not a burden."
"I made your favorite."
"I'll see what I can do."
"How are you feeling?"
"We'll get through this."
"That's it, just let it out."
"I'm worried about you."
"I'll start a bath for you."
"I'm coming right back."
"I can stay up with you."
"I wish you had told me."
"It's okay to not be okay."
"Your health comes first."
"You need a ride home?"
"Sit tight, I'm on my way."
"I'm not here to hurt you."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Just looking out for you."
"I'm sorry, I know it hurts."
"Let me worry about that."
"Stay as long as you want."
"I'll take care of everything."
"It's fine, I'll take the couch."
"I came as soon as I heard."
"You really gave us a scare."
"I'm not leaving you behind."
"I'm never too busy for you."
"I'll stay until you fall asleep."
"You don't have to apologize."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It's okay, it was just a dream."
"You ready to eat something?"
"Don't strain yourself, I'll get it."
"I've missed seeing you smile."
"Do you need another blanket?"
"You didn't deserve any of this."
"Follow my breathing. In...out..."
"Don't scare me like that again."
"I'll wake you in a couple hours."
"It's really me. I'm here, I'm real."
"I won't let them near you again."
"You first, I'll be right behind you."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"I know I don't have to. I want to."
"You can hold my hand if it helps."
"I've got your next round of meds."
"Let me put on some fresh sheets."
"It's good to see you up and about."
"I'm with you every step of the way."
"I'll be outside if you need anything."
"Hey, you're supposed to be resting."
"You're the strongest person I know."
"Is there anyone you want me to call?"
"If you're not up for this, let me know."
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"I just hate to see you hurting like this."
"Tell me what you need most right now."
"I called off work. You've got me all day."
"You've got my emergency contact info."
"I know you. You don't seem like yourself."
"I have a change of clothes ready for you."
"I'm so proud of you, and how far you've come."
"Call me if you need me. I don't care how late it is."
"They want to get to you, they'll have to go through me."
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𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚
Fem!Felix x Fem!Reader
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Smut 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3.5k 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Your best friend is curious about a certain taste so you offer some help like a good friend would. 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Oral sex, Rule 63 - Felix is depicted as afab in this fic, 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆(𝒔): Felix is referred to as Lix & Lixie + No use of Y/n + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: Cherry by Lana Del Rey, This is what makes us girls by Lana Del Rey, Cola by Lana Del Rey
♡ Masterlist ♡
"What do you think it tastes like?" You peer up from your laptop screen, your curious eyes take in your best friend staring down at her phone screen, her platinum blonde bangs covering her furrowed brows and her glossed bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“What?” She tilts her phone towards you, showing you the filthy video she's been watching on loop for God knows how long.
“Gosh, Lixie, in my room? Really? Right now?” A chuckle escapes you as you watch the video replay.
“I'm sorry, I know, I was just scrolling and it popped up. You know how unpredictable Twitter can be.” You only half heard what she said, you can see why she stopped to watch this video. Whoever that lucky lady is, is getting her pussy devoured in a way that you can only dream of.
“But seriously… what do you think?”
“Uh, I actually already know what it tastes like. Well, everyone is different but -”
“Pause.” Your brown eyes shoot up to meet her wide ones. “You've done that before?”
You can't help the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah I did, I mean it wasn't planned and it was just -”
“How did I never know this?”
“I don't know but you won't find out much more if you don't let me finish.” Lix locks her phone, throwing it to the side and sitting up on her knees so that she faces you with shining eyes. Her plaid skirt rides up her thighs a bit as she gets comfortable on your bed. It’s way too short so that doesn't surprise you. It was her idea to get matching skirts but when the one she wanted was only available a size smaller than what she needed she decided to squeeze into it so that the two of you could match.
“Start talking.”
“Okay okay uhm, it happened at my old friend's 18th birthday sleepover. It was a classic case of girls just messing around and things going too far. I went down on my friend while everyone else was sleeping, we always had some tension between us and we were both questioning if we were into girls so we just said fuck it and went down on each other.” She stares at you, blinking a couple of times as the information sinks in. “I’ve done it other times since then but that was the very first time.”
“What… does it taste like?” Her Australian accent decorates her words as they slowly fall from her lips, she bites at the inside of her cheek as she waits for your reply.
“Uh, kinda like nothing? Some girls taste kinda bitter and some kinda taste metallic? It depends on where you are hormonally but it generally tastes like licking the back of your hand.” You giggle a bit when her eyes flicker down to her hand. She makes a fist and brings it up to her lips to slowly run her tongue over the skin. You watch her closely, taking in her reaction. She licks again, closing her eyes this time and following with a low hum.
“Then why do guys say that it tastes sweet?” Her brows are pinched together as her eyes flutter open. “I never understood that.”
“It’s just cause it sounds good I guess? It makes us feel good.” Lix sits back against the headboard to your bed and rests her head on your shoulder. You tuck your curls behind your ear so that she can get comfortable. “Have you never tasted yourself before? You don’t kiss Hyunjin after he goes down on you?”
“I mean, yeah but I just thought it would be a bit different I guess? He always says that I’m sweet so that’s what I expected.”
“I think that they say that when they really like you, ya know? Maybe Hyune likes you a lot.” The scoff that escapes her makes you chuckle, you can already tell that she’s rolling her eyes.
“He likes everyone, he'd never actually wanna date me and that’s fine cause I’m not interested.” She’s not wrong, Hyunjin is the flirt of your friend group. He only started sleeping with Lix after they shared a drunken kiss and Lix went down on him. Ever since then he’s been trying to sweep her off of her feet but your friend isn’t easy to impress.
“Then why do you fuck him?” You turn to look down at her and she’s already looking up at you with a coy smile.
“He’s got a big dick.” A loud laugh ripples from her throat as you stare at her with a slack jaw and big eyes. So the rumors are true? “I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Come on, you can not basically tell me that what everyone says about Hyunjin is true and then shut the conversation down!” She kicks her feet as she sinks further down onto the bed.
“I don’t wanna talk about how big Hyunjin’s dick is, I’ll show you a picture later. I wanna talk about how I think I might be into girls.” She pauses, waiting for my reaction.
“Oh, you are. You always have been. Everyone knows it, you’re late to your own party.” You slide down to lay next to her, resting your head on her chest.
“No one was gonna tell me?” She chuckles, playful pushing you off of her. “Some friend you are.” She runs her fingers through your hair mindlessly as she stares up at the ceiling pondering her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I already know what my pussy tastes like. I wanna know what others taste like.”
“Are you interested in anyone? Like, any girls?” A comfortable silence blankets the both of you while she thinks, her eyes trace the blemishes on your ceiling as she picks her next words.
“I don’t know, not really.” You crane your neck to look up at her but she doesn’t look at you.
“No one at all?” You whisper like you’re trying to get her to let you in on a secret. “Do you fantasize about anyone?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” She whispers back. “I’ve imagined eating someone out…it’s always the same girl.”
“Do I know her?” Lix shakes her head and you smile, sitting up a bit to get a better look at her. Her eyes stay trained on the ceiling until you ask her. “Is it me?” Her gaze slowly drifts over to meet yours. She studies your features for just a second before shaking her head, a deep cherry blush washes over her freckled cheeks as you smile down at her.
“You’re always staring at my tits, I knew it.” You tease with a laugh, falling back down against the mattress and Lix scoffs.
“As if.” She rolls her eyes before falling into a fit of laughter with you “You’re my best friend and you’re a total babe. How could I resist? I was doomed from the start.” She puts the back of her hand against her forehead and sighs dramatically.
“Lixie likes me, Lixie likes me.” You sing song as you tease her, poking her side and making her laugh as she swats you away. You two giggle and thrash around a bit before you’re still again, laying on your sides facing each other.
“I’ll get over it.” She sighs, snuggling into her arm folded under her head. “It’s not like I’m in love with you, I just think you’re hot.”
“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” She shakes her head and you smile “I think about you sometimes.” Her eyes go wide at your confession and you chuckle at her.
“Swear?” You nod, moving closer to her.
“Do you wanna know what girls taste like… or what I taste like?” You’ve been best friends with Lix long enough to recognize that look in her eyes, you know the answer to your question before she even opens her mouth. “You could… taste me if you want.”
“Now is not the time to mess with me! I’m having a crisis here.” You roll your eyes and grab her by her hip.
“I’m not messing with you, I mean it. You wanna know if you like girls and I’m a girl, this is what friends are for.” She smiles at you, shaking her head a bit as she ponders your offer.
“Are you serious?” You smile back.
“So serious.” The two of you stare at each other for a minute or two, allowing your racing heartbeats to fill the quiet that’s surrounded you. Both of you know what you want to do but who’s going to make the first move?
As if you both can to the same conclusion simultaneously you both lean in to each other, gripping the others hips and capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. Lix giggles at the contact, kicking her feet a bit as excitement surges through her. She leans in again, deepening the kiss and you sigh into it. She feels just like you thought she would and she tastes even better. Soft and sweet.
“This is insane.” She whispers against your lips before kissing you again. “I have no clue how to eat pussy.” You both fall into a fit of laughter, clutching onto the other's waist as you struggle to find words.
“It’s not hard at all I promise!” You wrap your fingers around her wrist gently and guide her down to your core. “Feel it first, get to know it.”
“Why are you talking about your pussy like it’s a cat?” You hike your skirt up with your other hand, revealing your cotton white panties with an obvious wet spot forming on the gusset.
“Hey, it’s my kitty and it has feelings.” You rest her hand on your pubic bone, giving her control of how far she wants to go. “Be nice to her.”
Lixie’s slowly moves her fingers over your clothed pubic bone, taking in your trimmed pubes that you’ve carefully styled into a perfect triangle. She inches her way down the inside of your thigh, her palm slightly brushes over your clit and you sigh at the feeling. Her careful touches are something that you’re new to, everyone you’ve ever been with has been rough, their touches seemed rushed and eager but not Lix.
The feeling of her fingers brushing over your vulva brings you back to the present. Her touch is feather light as she runs two fingers over your clothed folds. She trails up and stops right at your clit, pressing a bit against it. “Oh” You kick your head back, allowing your eyes to flutter shut at the feeling. That’s one thing that you’ve always loved about being with girls, they all know where the clit is.
The feeling of the mattress dipping next to you makes you open your eyes, you watch as Lix moves further down to get a better look at where you're gushing for her. Her barely glossed lips are parted slightly as she looks you over with wide eyes. Her breathing is slow and calm despite her heart beating out of her chest with excitement. The cherry blush on her cheeks has only grown deeper now that she’s face to face with your cunt. Before you can even say anything she’s leaning into you, she places a soft but long kiss over pubic bone and your breath catches in your throat at the sight.
“Is that okay?” Her voice is barely above a whisper and her eyes never meet yours.
“Yeah.” You let out a shaky exhale as you watch her kiss a bit lower this time. You spread your legs further and she quickly slots herself between them. Her lips brush over your inner thighs, peppering soft but sloppy kisses over the skin. As she got more comfortable she left sweet kisses over your labia, licking a bit at the wet spot forming to get a hint of your taste on her tongue. You tried to stop your hips from bucking up into her but you couldn’t help it, the closer she got to your clit the more eager you got.
“Lixie.” You moaned out her name and gasped as she started to tease your clit with her tongue. Her gaze is trained on you as she kisses and licks over your panties, her wide eyes sparkle with faux innocence. You lazily grab at the blanket under you, small whimpers and restrained hums escape your throat despite your attempts at being quiet.
It’s the middle of a sunny day in May and your room is in the front of the house and your window is wide open. Your record player is playing some random song by Lana Del Rey and though it’s fitting for the situation you highly doubt that the soft music will drown out your moans.
She breaks eye contact and pulls away so that she can observe your pussy through your ruined panties. She whimpers at the sight of your pussy under the cloth, cocoa and pink just like she imagined it.
“ ‘S so pretty.” She coos as she pinches the lips between her fingers. You moan at the pressure, rolling your hips a bit. She taps to fingers right where your clit sits under the wet cloth and you hiss, throwing your head back.
“Was that okay?” she asks quickly, pulling back a bit. “Hyunjin always does that, and I wanted to try it.”
You laugh and she follows. “You’re trying tricks on me that your fuck buddy does to you!?” She laughs louder, resting her forehead on your thigh.
“No! Well, yeah I am but I don’t have any other reference!” She continues her ministrations, running her fingers over your clit and halting your laughter immediately. Your whole body tenses in pleasure as you clench around nothing. Your body tingles with excitement as she kisses you over your panties once more. You could cum from just the thought of her doing that and now she’s here, with her mouth on your clit and you can’t help but want to explode right on her tongue.
“Can we take these off?” she tugs at the hem of your panties and you offer an eager nod before lifting your hips to allow her to pull them off. Lix gasps as she pulls your panties down, her jaw hangs slack as she watches a string of arousal connect you to your soaked panties. She takes in the way that your cunt glistens in the spring sunshine and she swears that it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. “Is this a dream?” She mumbles under her breath but you hear her.
“It might be.” You prop yourself on your elbows, determined to watch her as she tastes you. She throws your panties to the side and spreads your pussy with two fingers. Her lust glazed eyes study you like you’re a work of art. She takes in every mole, every slight glimmer of your arousal and every clench of your tight hole. Her eyes meet yours for a second before she leans in closer. You stare down at her, not daring to break eye contact. She dips her tongue out and slowly licks a stripe up your leaking cunt. A loud moan escapes you when her eyes roll back at the taste of you, a whine leaving her throat when she swallows your essence.
“Oh my god.” You say in unison, chuckling for just a second before falling back into the moment. She’s eager to taste you again, wasting no time dipping her tongue back out and licking up your folds.
The tip of her tongue teases your clit a bit and you buck up into her. She notes the reaction, leaning in to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes are on yours the entire time, she blinks up at you, drinking in your reactions to her amateur work. “ You look so pretty down there. Holy fuck, Lix.”
She feels more confident with your praise lingering in her head. She sucking your clit between her lips, laving over the sensitive bud and humming in satisfaction when you arch your back off of the mattress with a loud moan. Her small hands press against your inner thighs to keep them open for her as she runs her tongue up and down your folds. She flicks, licks and sucks all of the right spots, fucking you with her tongue once she’s truly comfortable.
You’re a moaning mess, your body trembles with pleasure as she works you towards your climax. Her name tumbles from your lips like a prayer and your fingers grab at the hair at the crown of her head. You’re so close but you don’t want this to end.
“Y-you’re really good at that.” She swirls her tongue over your clit, writing the alphabet with her tongue and you shudder at the dragged out moan she offers in response. You can feel your orgasm creeping up your spine, the familiar warmth starts to wash over you but she pulls away before it can take you completely. You whine in protest but before you can say anything she slides a finger inside you. You cry out, fisting the blanket under you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“Oh my god, yes, like that, please, please add another.” Your breathing intensifies when she slips another finger into you, stretching you perfectly.
“I should still eat you out right?” You nod frantically, eyes shut tight as you chase your high. She dives back in immediately, lapping at your clit like an expert as she fucks your clenching hole. Your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, your moans and cries are so loud that you’re positive that anyone passing your house can hear your signs of pleasure but you couldn’t care less.
“Lix-ah, Lix, Lixie, I’m cumming” She licks up your gushing arousal as you come undone, her free hand keeps you spread open for her as she laps up your juices. A chorus of moans float through the air, some belonging to you and some her. Once you start to settle down she slowly slides her fingers out of you and gives your cunt one last lick before backing away. Her chin is glistening in the sun as she smiles, her swollen lips are coated in your juices and the two fingers that were previously buried in your cunt are now between her lips as she runs her tongue over them. She rests her head on your thigh as she watches you come down from the clouds.
“This is definitely a dream, there’s no way that I made you cum that hard.” She smiles, as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand. “Did I do okay?”
“Was my screaming not enough of a give away?” You both laugh and she crawls back up to lay next to you. “Thoughts?”
“You taste…sweet.” She side eyes you with a smile and you both erupt into a much more intense fit of laughter. “You must like me.” You tease, pushing her playfully. “C’mere”
You lean up in an attempt to catch her lips with yours and she closes the gap, pressing her swollen lips against yours with a hum. “I am sweet.” She chuckles and you push her down onto your mattress.
“It’s your turn now.”
“You don’t have to -” You cut her off with a kiss.
“I really want to.” She smiles up at you and watches as you crawl down her body. Just when you’re about to flip her skirt up her phone chimes underneath her. She ignores it and turns her attention back to you, lifting her hips to give you access to her pink strawberry print panties. You kiss her outer thigh and start moving inwards but before you can get too far her phone vibrates again. She groans in annoyance before she lifts up and grabs the device, unlocking it aggressively and checking her notifications.
“Oh.” She whispers with wide eyes as she sits up. “Oh no oh god I completely forgot.”
“What?” You ask, crawling back up to look at her screen. “Oh.”
“I completely forgot that he was picking me up, our plans completely slipped my mind.” She starts typing quickly, trying to come up with a message that would get her out of her plans. Her phone vibrates in her hands seconds after her message is sent and somehow her wide eyes get even wider. “He’s here.”
“What?” Before you could even ask any questions there’s a knock at your window. All of your friends come through your window when it’s open. Why not? It’s in the front of your house and it’s fucking huge. You turn quickly and sure enough Hyunjin is lifting himself up and into your room.
“Ladies.” He greets with a sigh once he’s in, he takes you both in with furrowed brows. His eyes dart from your skirt around your waist to Lixie’s messy hair then down to your friends flipped up skirt and then they finally stop at your ruined panties discarded at the end of your bed. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” You say in unison, not even bothering to fix your appearances.
“Nothing?” He questions, an eyebrow raised and a sly smirk on his lips as he looks you both over again.
“Yeah we’re just…” Lix trails off, looking at you for assistance but Hyunjin finishes before you can jump in “Tasting cherries?” He walks over to your bed, sitting at the edge and leaning back against the frame.
“Mind if I have a taste too?”
a/n : Thanks for reading! I've never written anything like this ever so I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs, Comments and likes are appreciated and always make my day!
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