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#I KNOW IT TAKES MONTHS AND MONTHS TO MAKE THESE BUT EVERY TIME I HAVE AN INSANE NEED FOR M O A R
lipringlrh · 2 days
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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)
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read: part one | logan ending
summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.
pairing: lando norris x gn!reader
wc: 1.8k
Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.
He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.
At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.
“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”
Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.
“I know, I didn’t mean to-”
“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.
“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.
“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.
“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”
Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.
“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.
Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.
Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.
You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.
“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.
“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.
“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”
“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”
After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.
The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.
He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.
You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.
He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.
“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.
“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.
“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.
“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”
“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”
“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.
“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.
He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.
“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”
“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”
“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.
Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.
“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.
“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.
“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.
Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.
“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.
You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”
“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.
You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.
“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.
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itsmrshamilton · 2 days
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That's My Wife! | LH44
Summary: lewis & reader get married and make an instagram reel displaying their shock. (PLEASE check out this👇 reel cause it inspired me.) //www.instagram.com/reel/C6Wxj_zR_l1/
a/n: this is my first time writing on here. Im excited but nervous cause I feel like someone will judge me or call me out for copying (which i would never do). Let me know what you think & requests are open.
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You laughed loudly as Lewis' arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into his chest. The elevator you were in was bright and empty so your giggles bounced off the walls.
"Oh my gosh, Lew. We're going to fall over!" You exclaimed as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and rocked the both of you side to side. You weren't actually worried but your intoxicated state did mean that if you went down, Lewis would have to bear all the weight.
"You smell amazing," he mumbled. "You look amazing, you feel amazing. God, I love you." He pressed kisses onto your neck, ear, and temple as you hummed in contentment. You and Lewis had left your wedding reception to get some time alone and rest before tomorrow's big brunch. The reception was somehow still in full swing at midnight with uncles and aunts from both sides tearing up the dance floor. It had been the best wedding you had ever attended. Gold and ivory fabric adorned every table, chair, and wall with large crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings and fairy lights in the rose garden to top it all off. The wedding planning had taken months and left you with many sleepless nights, but in the end, it all came together and was worth the hassle.
Now, in the elevator on the way to your room, the two of you took a second to breathe. You reached up to stroke Lewis' head on your shoulder. "I love you more. I can't believe I get to spend eternity with you." You said to him. He straightened up just as the elevator dinged and opened it's doors, allowing him to lead you out by your hand. He stepped into the empty hallway of the hotel, walked over the wall and whipped out his phone to fiddle with it.
"What are you doing?" You asked as you stood there with the train of your big white dress draped over one arm and your silver heels in the other hand. "Give me a sec." His brown eyes connected with yours as he glanced over his shoulder before he quickly set his phone up against the wall. Lewis stepped back to take your shoes out of your hands and pull you closer to him in front of the camera. "I'm just introducing everyone to my wife, baby." He smiled at you.
Your breath hitched and you grinned back. Lewis calling you his wife was thrilling and you felt butterflies in your stomach. He pecked your lips then turned to his phone. "Hey! What are you looking at? Are you eyeing my wife?!" He said to the camera as he took on a threatening stance. You giggled at his antics before giving the phone a stink eye and leaning towards your reflection in it. "Yo, are you really trying my husband? You've got to get through me first." You were both boisterously laughing at this stage.
His beautiful brown eyes sparkled with pure joy when he looked you. He would never stop thanking his lucky stars that he had met you. You were truly the most etheral being he had ever laid eyes on. With your hair done up, your make-up accentuating your best features and your beautiful lips gracing him with a smile. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders and raised your diamond-clad left hand at the camera sassily. "You see this ring? I'm his wife! That's right." You laughed. He lifted his hand too to show off his diamond crusted ring as well.
"I'm her husband so you better back up" he placed his hand over yours so that both rings were on display for the phone still recording your shenanigans. "I'm a married man. I'm a hubby, now. So watch yourself."
You dissolved into more laughter at that. The glasses of wine you had drank all evening were definitely working through your system right now. "We're married! We're a married couple! I'm your wife! " you were yelling and laughing at the same time. Struggling to keep yourself upright, you leaned into Lewis more. He caught you and reciprocated your energy. "I know, baby! Oh, man. I can't believe it! How is this allowed??"
You looked at the man of your dreams. Looking beautiful in a white suit bedazzled with expensive jewels. His bright eyes, pinks lips, sweet dimple. All of him was yours. Yours to love and to hold til death do you apart. Facing you, he lifted his hands to your face and gently pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled into it and wrapped your arms around his waist.
"I love you so so much, Mrs Hamilton." He whispered against your lips. He kissed you again, deeply this time and you groaned into his mouth. Feeling electricity run straight to his groin, Lewis pulled away to quickly turn to the camera. "And, now we're off to do married couple things!" He snickered.
"Lewis-" You exclaimed as he cut the video.
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Thanks for reading. Be sure to interact with this post before you leave. 💗
Please do not translate, repost or alter my writing because I do not consent. If you do, I will send evil shongololos to bite your toes off at night.
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velvetsainz · 2 days
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summary: [ cs55, cl16, mv1, lh44, fa14, sv5, dr3, mwebber, jb22 x fem!reader ] three major kinks + a couple minor kinks for each driver
word count: 1.8k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp; i'm not going to tag all of these bc that would take 5ever BUT 1) everything is consensual & in the setting of a happy, healthy relationship & 2) dm me if you are needing any specific tw's/cw's & i'll be happy to share those!
a/n: it's been a hot, hot minute since i've had the energy to write (i was busy surviving my surgery core rotation at a level 1 trauma center & pediatrics at a major children's hospital), but i've been brewing up a lil something for awhile now! i was stalling out on writing the last part of corsica, so i figured i'd at least give you this to get the juices flowing again! i started this blog about six months ago, & i'm nearly at 500 followers & i wanted to take a moment to thank you all! i love you so much and i hope you enjoy this! these are the kinks i think each of these drivers has! what proof do i have, you ask? absolute fuck-all! enjoy, loves! xx
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creampie + breeding kink — he’s a family man & lord knows how badly he wants his own. he’s possessive, too, & this sates both of those desires well for him.  he’s always whispering something in your ear, hand low on your belly about how good you’d look carrying his babies. and once you’re actually pregnant? sweet jesus, he’s never taking his hands off of you.
shower sex — he’s talked a number of times about how he’ll shower multiple times a day, and something tells me he’d never object to a partner. more than once he’s had you against the tiled walls until the water ran cold and your teeth were chattering.  he’d then proceed to take it upon himself to warm you up again, ever the gentleman.
post-workout sex — there’s something about the way you look, out of breath & drenched in sweat that sends all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. you’re trying to push him away, afraid that you’re just too gross, but this man does not give a single fuck.  he adores you in all your sweaty, sticky glory & is on you the second you make it back from your class, peeling you out of your leggings and wrangling your too-tight sports bra over your head.  and it goes the other way as well: his favorite workout cooldown is fucking you senseless; there’s something deeply primal about the exertion of a workout that clouds his head with only thoughts of you, out of breath & on the brink of orgasm.
minor kinks | hair pulling — rough sex — cockwarming — pussy worship — possessiveness — soft dom — teasing — dirty talk
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praise kink — he’s a talker in bed, and that means that he’s telling you just how delicious the tight clutch of your velvet walls feels around his cock. one language is not enough to tell you all the ways you make him feel, how good you are, how badly he’s wanted you. it certainly doesn’t hurt when you reciprocate, but the sounds he’s able to work out of you are often enough for him.
vanilla sex — listen: it’s no secret that this man is a romantic, and there are few things as romantic as good ole vanilla sex. sure, some spice is nice every once in a while, but he doesn’t need it to get his rocks off. he’s too caught up in the romance of it all—the tangle of limbs, skin pressed against skin, stuttering breaths, and stammering hearts—to want anything else.  all he needs is you.
kissing — similar as above, charles is a sucker for romance, and a good makeout sess is just the right thing to get him hot and bothered.  he’s very talented with languages, and his mastery of his tongue doesn’t end with words. *wink wink*
minor kinks | oral sex (giving + receiving) — creampie — cowgirl — bathtub sex — breathplay
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mutually drunk sex — no matter how much he loves a club scene, he’d always find himself back in your arms.  happy, sloppy, messy sex. as much as he loves a g&t, he loves the taste of you more.
wax play — we’ve seen the clips. he likes dripping the wax just as much as he likes being dripped on, and every time you go to light a candle his eyes get that hungry look like he could devour you whole; you’ve learned how to use this to your advantage.
dirty talk + praise kink — as we all know, this man is a certified YAPPER. and, unsurprisingly, that extends to the bedroom, too.  always groaning, grunting, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, there’s very little that leaves him truly speechless; you’ll always know exactly how he feels when you're riding his cock or taking him deep in your throat, whether that’s in dutch, english, or the french he’s been trying to practice. and, given his upbringing, he lives for the praises that fall past your lips; he aims to please, and your sweet words are all the motivation he needs.
minor kinks | restraints (giving + receiving) — spanking — threesomes — nipple play — sensory play
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massage — he takes great pride in his physique, and he thinks every inch of you is perfect.  he loves watching all the tension leave your body. with such limited time in his busy, busy life, he thrives on the time he gets to spend with you; few things can compete with the peace, intimacy, and pleasure that comes from the feeling of your hands working over the tight muscles of his back and legs. and if they happen to wander somewhere else? well, what a happy accident that would be!
fingering — if there’s one thing lewis knows, it’s that a man’s most important tool isn’t the one between his legs.  he loves all the ways in which you unravel for him, your back pressed against his chest with your legs draped over his own to keep them open.  he’ll play with you like that for hours if he could, unlacing your composure until you're boneless and melting into him with every touch. (also, dear god, have you seen his hands? female gaze bait of the highest form.)
the lingerie stays on — there’s a litany of pick-up lines about clothes, etc. looking good on you but better on their floor, and a one mr. hamilton disagrees with that sentiment; we know well how he appreciates fine garments, and he loves them even more when you’re wearing them.  he’s most certainly one to spoil his partner, and if he’s going to buy you that agent provocateur set, you can bet he wants to see you in it.
minor kinks | soft dom — cowgirl — voyeurism — intimacy — dirty talk — shower sex — pillowtalk
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face riding — why do you think he takes so much pride in his neck strength? and even when you’re squirming away from overstimulation, he’s more than able to hold you in place by hooking his toned biceps over your shaking thighs. he’s a menace, but he never leaves a partner wanting for more.
wearing his clothes — okay, this one isn’t original in the slightest because i simply cannot get this blurb by @folkloresthings out of my head.  nando would keel over at the sight of you in his clothes, especially if there was a particular lack of certain undergarments. he’d pull you in by the excess material and have you right there if feasible.
anal sex — all the nando fuckers know that he’s a little freaky—can i get an amen? that being said, his experience goes a long way in helping his partner get the most out of it and making it a pleasurable experience for all parties. he’d take his time working you open, pairing it with leg-shaking orgasms to wash away any doubts in your mind. it’s a new sensation, but a welcome one at that.
minor kinks | swallowing / facials — teasing — spanking — rough sex — sloppy sex — aftercare
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teasing — a tyrant on the track and one in the bedroom as well. or in the car. or at a dinner with a few too many pairs of eyes. regardless, being a tease is his favorite above all else despite his own inability to handle a healthy dose of his own medicine. 
overstimulation — this more or less goes hand-in-hand with his teasing, but he loves the way you beg when you’re coming down from one high and coasting right into another. “just one more, liebling” or “you’ve got another one, don’t you, schatz?” or “i know you can take it, kleiner hase” before making your vision go white as he wrings another orgasm from you.
morning sex — but, above all else, sebastian is a lover, and few things are quite as intimate as slow, fumbling, half-awake morning sex where you’re mumbling praises and communicating in soft, hushed sounds of pleasure. chasing sensations and desires before your mind is even fully awake takes a strong, trusting bond, and he prides himself on this with his partner.
minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — mutual masturbation — toys — soft restraints (giving + receiving) — creampie / breeding — praise kink — dirty talk
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cowgirl — this man & his mobsession w/ texas—need i say more? how does that saying go, again? “save a horse…”
photos/sextape — daniel3.jpg would like a word.  he’s obsessed with this new medium, and what’s a better way to remember a spicy moment than on film? plus, when you’re traveling 200-plus days a year, you need a way to bring a piece of home with you however you can, whether that’s watching you fall apart while arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight or taking him into the back of your throat as you look up at him through damp lashes or riding his cock or or arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight…you get the picture.
threesomes — considering the way that everyone fawns over him on the grid, this man could so easily work himself into some surprising pairings. his love language is physical touch and he’s not afraid to share it. that, combined with his competitiveness and desire to please, turns into a dangerous desire for him to see you fucked out and overwhelmed by your own need for more.
minor kinks | mirror sex — dirty talk — thigh riding — facefucking — rough sex — hair pulling
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rough sex — aussie grit. there’s nothing else i need to say other than he’s a wild ride.
aftercare — any rough lover worth their prowess, though, knows the importance of aftercare, and mark is no different in that regard.  he takes it very seriously and is always checking in afterward to make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, peppering you in sweet kisses and warm embraces.
pussy worship — we’ve all seen the clip, right? this man knows how to eat pussy and he’s damn good at it. better yet—he loves doing it. you’d practically have to pry him off you from the overstimulation, his tongue, lips, and teeth finding alllll the right ways to make you fall apart.
minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — possessiveness — massage — swallowing / facials
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exhibitionism + voyeurism — the grid slag. he’s confident about his body and his abilities, and he’s not afraid to share. he’s not overly possessive and an unabashed hedonist to boot, so this pairing works perfectly to get his rocks off (and hopefully yours, too). he’s a little freak, and he’s not afraid to let it show!
spanking — when you’re especially mouthy (frequently to get these exact reactions) and he’s a little bold, jenson is partial to taking you over his knee and seeing how long you can keep up the act before you’re a whimpering mess. frequently this ends with him literally kissing your ass, two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping cunt while another toys with your too-sensitive clit.
brattiness — again, like above, he loves when you backtalk or drag your heels on him, making him work for your pleasure and, on some nights, your submission. (though, he’s not afraid to admit how fucking hot he finds it when you take control, using him for your pleasure and taking what you need. all that matters to him is raw, messy, dirty fun.)
minor kinks | threesomes — begging — degradation kink (giving + receiving) — nipple play — oral sex (giving + receiving) — toys
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final note: that's all, folks! now what do you think? let me know! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes​ where i reblog inspo & recs!
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massacredkitty · 2 days
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hi honey!!!!! kay so ... how about ... mechanic abby with a mechanically clueless reader n she comes in like once a month and abby is like always giving her a huge discount n stuff idk?? do what you will with that??? lmao
also is 🐚 taken? i want that pls xx
female reader x mechanic abby anderson hcs second part is nsfw
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you stare at her hands, dirty and calloused as they do god knows what under the hood of your car. her thumb and index play around with buttons and screws, and you can't help but notice how she seems to use her middle and ring fingers regularly. maybe its muscle memory. you hope so
you've become a regular now, somehow always having car trouble since your first visit. and of course, abby is always there to help you out, standing out from her fellow mechanics that gawk and whistle when you walk in.
she is such a gentlewoman, always treating you with respect and even cursing herself out when she catches herself staring at you for too long.
you're not much better; completely focused on how her body moves. specifically when she's checking your brakes underneath your car, the bottom half of her body sticking out.
you watch as her shirt rises, revealing her toned abdomen... the way her hips push up to adjust herself— it fogs your brain up too much that when she slides out to question you, you have to take a few seconds to compose yourself.
the sweet nicknames she gives you, rather nonchalantly. you settle on the thought that she calls every girl that, all her clients. what's so special about you? but what you don't know, is that abby pays very little attention to every other client that comes in. you're very special.
and she never lets you pay full price, not even the first time you came in. you don't know how to explain that one— maybe she's just nice?
mechanic!abby who lets you stick around after her shift, when the store is empty and quiet. letting you follow her around, asking about your day and life overall
nsfw ..
helps you clamour onto the hood of your newly fixed car, the combined body weight denting and marking the car. it makes abby cringe internally, hearing cracks and squeaks that she knows a car shouldn't make.
leaves you with marks she hopes you don't cover up, prays you purposefully display them on your skin the next time you come in. and surely enough, you do!
straps you in the backseat of your car, knees pressed against your chest and the windows fogged up. you can do nothing but take it, reaching up to claw at her muscular arms and cry about how good it feels
mechanic!abby who locks the store down a lot earlier now.
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corvidae-00 · 3 days
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Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747
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The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.
You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.
Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain
"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow
"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better
Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.
"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose
"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.
"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head
"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.
you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language
"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum
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Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!
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sturniologals · 3 days
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Mine. {M.S}
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
warnings: smut/p in v (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy)/ slightly angry sex
Summary: Y/n and Matt are roommates. Your parents are all close and you were moving to go to college in new york, so of course Matt’s mom forced him to let you stay with him in the new and strange environment. This would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s always been extremely over protective and tries to control your social life in every aspect, so what happens when Matt finds your one night stand shuffling out his penthouse?
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
The sound of my feet pattering against the cold floor of the kitchen is the only sound that can be heard in aydens desolate penthouse.
I walk towards the fridge to get some water but before i can make it there, i hear a loud snore. I quickly whip my head around to see my one night stand passed out on the couch.
“fuck! shit! fuck!” i whisper shout to myself under my breath as i run over to the couch and start shaking the man awake. i don’t even know his name, i met him at a club last night.
“Hey! wakey wakey buddy!” i shout at the man as i continue to shake his shoulders.
I have to get him out of here before matt gets back.
The man starts to groan and shift his body as he stirs awake. “why are you still here?!” i shout.
He woke me up when he left my room at around 4:30 this morning and i assumed he was leaving.
The man sits up and brushes his slightly greased black hair back. “s-sorry- i fell asleep in here when i was putting my shoes on i think.”
“yeah, okay time to go.” i say as i rush him as he slips on his sweatshirt and stumbles as he walks towards the door.
“jesus! okay! okay!” He says in a whiny voice as i shove him towards the front door.
He opens the front door and i’m met with Matt, standing in doorway.
“shit.” i mumble to myself, seeing his face instantly turn angry as my hookup awkwardly smiles at Matt and shuffles past him in the doorway. Matt’s not moving and holding intimidating eye contact as the man slides past.
The man walks past Matt but before he can get even a foot away, Matt grabs him by the collar of his shirt and jerks him back towards him.
“Don’t ever fucking speak to y/n again.” Matt gruffs out harshly as he looks down at the man, towering over him.
“Matt-“ I say, but i’m ignored in the moment.
The man says nothing but just runs off as Matt lets go of him.
Matt turns back to look at me, a look of desperation and anger in his eyes as he walks in through the door past me. I slowly turn behind him, shutting the door behind us.
I have to talk to him and address the problem because i’m not doing this shit again with him. The last time this happened, he was an asshole for a month.
“Matt, what the fuck?” I retort as ayden opens the fridge up and gets a bottle of water out.
“Hm? what’s the matter y/n?” He asks, faking a look of confusion as he takes a sip from his water bottle, his full lips glowing with a shimmer of wetness as he pulls the bottle away.
“Don’t act fucking clueless. I’m tired of you getting so mad when i hookup with someone. I’m not even dating him for Christs sake! It was just a fuck!” I yell, obviously getting bothered. I can physically feel my face heating up and getting red.
“y/n, don’t shout.” Matt says quietly and eerily calm, trying to put on a facade of being not bothered by the conversation.
“Matt, listen to me.” I say as i let out a deep breath. “I’m not doing this shit with you again. The last time i even talked about hanging out with a guy, you threw a fucking fit and was an asshole to me for a fucking week! i’m not doing it again. I’m 20 years old- i’m allowed to have a hookup or hell- a boyfriend if i want.”
I finish off breathlessly, relieved to have finally said the words that have been brewing in my mind for almost a year.
Matt’s face remains stoic as he places his glass cup down on the counter before rolling the sleeves of his white button up, up to his elbows and slowly walking over to me.
“why don’t you have a boyfriend then, hm? why just hookups?” He says quietly, the words rolling off of his lips so smoothly as he looks down at me.
“Because- you- you’d get mad and i just don’t want to deal with your attitude-“ I stutter my words out, my voice faltering as Matt continues to close the space between us.
“I don’t think that’s true sweetheart, you do whatever you want anyways. You always have. That’s what drives me so fucking crazy.” Matt says as his hand comes up to the side of my face. I can do nothing but stare up at him as his thumb runs over my bottom lip. I close my eyes and let out a huff of a breath that i didn’t know i was even holding in.
“I don’t want another man in this penthouse alone with you that isn’t me.” Matt says quietly as his eyes continue to scan over my face.
“Matt-“ I begin to grow angry and displeased with his words but he cuts me off by leaning down a few inches to my ear before i can finish my sentence.
“I want it to be me, y/n. You’re already mine anyways, just let me- let me be here for you.” he whispers seductively into my ears, sending a shiver through my body as he leans back up to look at me with desperate and pleading eyes.
“Matt, this will never work.” I say with hesitation. Deep down, i know it could work because now that i’m thinking about it, Matt is obsessed with me. Almost everything he does revolves around me, so i know he’d make it work.
“yes it will, y/n. I love you. I’ll make it work sweetheart. Please-“ He says as his eyes scan all over my face, looking for any of my emotions to read. I’ve never seen Matt like this. I’ve never seen him so- desperate…so vulnerable.
Before he can plead with me again, i throw my arms around his neck and place my lips on his quickly and passionately. He quickly reciprocates the kiss and his hands go straight to my hips as he lifts me up and places me on the kitchen island, i groan into his lips as the cold countertop hits my ass.
“My god-“ He groans out lowly before sliding his tongue into my mouth. My legs tighten around his waist and i can feel his hard erection pressing into my thigh.
When Matt feels my legs tighten around him, he lets out a low whimper that makes me audibly moan his name. He looks at me with swollen lips and dazed eyes.
“I want you- please.” I say with exasperation evident in my voice.
Matt groans into my shoulder before quickly pulling his belt through the loops as he grabs me by my waist and pulls me down off of the counter. I have no time to breathe or ask questions before he turns me over so my stomachs half way onto the counter and pushes my face against the cold granite countertop.
“Yeah?” Matt says with a lustful voice.
“Yes Matt.” I groan as he presses himself against my ass.
“Mm, can i?” he asks lowly as he fiddles with the waistband of my shorts.
“Yes- please.” I quickly give him my consent and he wastes no time as he jerks my shorts down along with my underwear. He immediately shoved himself into me without warning, making me yell out loudly as my pussy stretches, trying to accommodate his size.
“Matt! fuck!” I moan loudly as he bottoms out.
“So- so tight. You feel so good y/n.” He says with a hoarse voice as he slowly starts moving inside of me.
After a few moments, im starting to get used to his size as he slowly pulls out before shoving back inside again, this time he relentlessly increases his speed as i shout moans of his name. He grabs onto my scalp, getting a fistful of hair as he pulls my head up as he continues to ram into me.
“Did you make up your mind? are you ever gonna let another man fuck you like this?” He says loudly, having to almost yell over the erotic sounds poring from my mouth.
“Nobody ever again! I’m yours Matt, all yours.” I moan, my mouth gapes open when Matt hears my words and speeds up his pace even more somehow.
“I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’re gonna take every fucking drop.” He says sternly as his movements become sloppier.
“Matt please-“ I moan loudly as we both finish at the same time.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, ayden slowly pulls out while rubbing my back soothingly.
“I’ve thought about doing that to you for so fucking long.” Matt says with a small chuckle. I’m not even able to say anything, my body still trying to come down from my high.
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st4rrth0ughts · 3 days
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Hey!! I really lhcde all of your posts especially bodyguard reader x sub aven series, it made me go feral and scream like a monkey. Makes me think to stuffed him full until he carry our child
May I request a hc of pregnant aventurine if you don't mind, he will be the type of people that 24/7 needy
Let’s get into this FUCKKK
tw,cw: mpreg!!, afab! Aven, amab! gn! bodyguard! reader, self indulgent, FLUFFY domestic and married life, reader is described as muscular, NOT PROOFREAD, Aven's real name mentions! may not be accurate lol, lmk if i missed anything!
He's shocked. Staring at the test, he doesn't know how to feel, should he be upset? Happy? Oh Aeons, what's he going to say to you?
Of course, he loved you, he really, really did, but you were his bodyguard, surely you didn't want the burden of raising a child... right?
haha, wrong, he's stunned as he watches you as you practically, squealed, squealed, in pure joy as you dash over, picking him up and spinning him like a princess
Watching someone that was so muscular, cuddling him so tenderly and rubbing his belly, kissing his nape and soft skin, he was on the verge of tears.
For the next months, he didn't think he could, but damn it, he fell in love with you all over again. You did everything around the house for him, and treated him so gently.
Every morning, when he had his morning nausea, it was horrible, but you were always by his side, rubbing his back with your warm hands, and then cuddling and kissing him all over the place.
Whenever he had weird cravings, somehow, you'd be able to make it at home, and playfully feed it to him because he was too tired and drained. Not that he couldn't, of course, but still.
You did all the household chores, cleaning the dishes, cooking for both of you, making sure the house was in its best state, hell, you even dedicated the spare guest bedroom and converted it into a beautiful nursery.
You dealt with him even when he had horrid mood swings, from sobbing, to getting irritated with the smallest of things, you were there, taking his insults and comforting him when he was crying in your arms.
He finds himself much more needy and wanting your attention, more so than the first few years of your relationship, constantly burying his head in your back, chest, neck, anytime of the day, when your cooking, doing chores or filling in boring paperwork.
Every night, you would always hug him, kiss him, and take care of him, and rub his belly, whispering how you two would be such wonderful parents he thinks he won't be, and how your new child would be such a beautiful addition to your lives.
In the last few months during his pregnancy, you took extra care of him, getting a few more part time jobs so that you two would have enough savings to take care of the new life you would be taking care of in about a few month's time. (he insists that his money can handle everything and more, but you simply shushed him)
You always accompanied him everywhere, (not that you didn't before he got pregnant lol) to his doctor's appointments, when he had to attend urgent IPC meetings, and he swears that you were probably more emotional than him, you would get in a full blown fight with anyone who looked at him the wrong way.
Outside, you would hold his hand constantly, intertwining your ringed fingers, proudly showing everyone that he was your darling husband, and you always made it a point to kiss him when he least expected it, always getting a laugh when he squeaked and blushed.
His water broke suddenly, which sent both of you into a massive panic, luckily, the two of you were nearby a hospital, so you ended by driving him there yourself.
The delivery was difficult and painful, as it ended up with him having to give birth to twins, you were holding his hand as he squeezed it so hard it was almost painful, and he was sobbing throughout the process.
But seeing the two newborn babies, one girl and one boy, in his arms, Aeons, he couldn't help but cry as well. You were crying, and even the doctors were tearing up from how absolutely overjoyed you two were to have two children.
Now that he thought about it, he's pretty sure you cried more than him even though he's the one that gave birth
Anyways
You kissed them, held them, and gently cooed at the twins adorable expression, and held their tiny fingers with such love that he swears he'll fall in love with you again for the third time.
The girl had his dirty blond hair, but had your eye's beautiful shade, and the boy was vice versa. They looked like adorable angels.
Speaking of which, his heart melted while his next few hours were spent in the hospital, recovering in the soft pillows of the hospital bed.
You'd been fussing hard over him, being the one to feed him, take care of him, and being the one to rock your babies to sleep, while he himself fell asleep as well.
He wasn't expecting it, but he was shocked and touched that Ratio, Topaz and even the Trailblazer decided to visit, all of them congratulating you and him, and it was certainly one of the best times Kakavasha ever had in his life.
Topaz absolutely adored the twins, she was giggling and playing peekaboo with them, while ratio spent his session reading a children's book to their sleeping forms, and you had to refuse Trailblazer's thoughtful but rather unsanitary gift of trashcan salvaged items.
For the next months, it was bliss. Of course, it was tiring, having to take care of two new children, but honestly? Having a happy family with you and his beloved children, always by his side, he was sure the world seemed brighter than before.
A/n: Not my usual stuff as i rarely want to post actual writing of headcannons, but lmk how i did :))
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rebelfell · 3 days
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Evidently never gonna be done with thoughts of these two... 18+, MDNI 4.8k
older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson
cw: unprotected piv, finishing inside
cont'd from here
The ride back to the house is silent.
No music playing. No words being said. Just the rumble of his van’s engine and the spin of its tires making the floor vibrate underneath your feet. Eddie’s hands keep tensing, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosening as he navigates the deserted, winding backroads.
The trip that seemed to take only minutes on the way now stretches on interminably. Like when you wake up from a dream and the elasticized time snaps abruptly back in place and you realize your alarm has been going off for over an hour and now you’re definitely late for work.
You swallow thickly as you stare out the window at the blur of trees whipping past, your fingers twisting in your lap as you pick at the skin around your thumbnail. You rack your brain for some words, any words, that might be helpful. That might somehow fix this mess you’ve made.
But there isn’t a lot left to say after the lake.
Eddie, don’t, you can’t say stuff like that.
Why not? It’s the truth, it’s how I feel, I—
Because this can’t go anywhere! I’m leaving, I’m going back to—
Then I’ll leave too! I’ll go with you, I’ll go wherever you go, I just want to be with you.
Stop it, you don’t know what you’re saying.
He tries to tell you he does mean it. He means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his whole life. He doesn’t care about Hawkins or his stupid community college classes or his handful of odd jobs he could do literally anywhere. He’ll pick up and move. He’ll work. He’ll take care of you.
He’ll do anything so long as this doesn’t end.
What about Steve?
You stare at him plainly, certain you’ve delivered a death blow. And his face does flicker, if only for a moment, as the guilt that’s been festering in his gut for months finally shows through. And even as he shakes his head as determinately as he can, the waver in his voice is unmistakable.
I’ll…I’ll explain it to him.
Explain what? That we fucked on every available surface in his house?
Eddie shrank at your harsh words, not ready for the anger that flashed in your eyes, nor the vitriol that rose in your voice when you so crassly described the best summer of his life.
No! Well…yeah, but—I don’t know, I’ll figure it out!
Okay, and then what? We date? You practically spat the word out. Show up for Christmas dinner at your best friend’s house? Sit across the table from him as his aunt’s…as my…
You can’t even say the word “boyfriend”—it feels so juvenile, so high-school.
The argument drags on until the deep, brilliant midnight blue sky begins to tinge gray with the arrival of a cold and sickly dawn. Eddie probably would have kept going until the sun rose, until it hung in the middle of the sky, until it had set and come back up all over again. But you told him as calmly as you could that you had to go back. 
It was time.
His van practically crawls to a stop in the driveway, the screech of his brakes mixing with the soft tweets of birds just beginning to stir. He shifts it into park and reaches up to grab the keys and cut the ignition, but you lay your hand on top of his to stop him.
“I don’t think you should stay,” you tell him, forcing back the wobble in your voice.
And the way he looks at you when you say it makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed. His face crumples, his brow pinching together, his mouth contorted in an ugly shape more snarl than frown.
“Don’t do this…” he says, gritting out the words through a clenched jaw. “Please.”
And it’s not the sort of begging you’re used to hearing out of him. It’s not an eager plea for you to kiss him or touch him, nor a cheeky request to fuck you somewhere you could get caught. This is real begging. It’s him clawing at you from behind a chain link fence, a lost puppy who wants only for you to take him home from the pound.
Not asking for anything but you.
“Eddie, we can’t—”
He reaches out for you, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, his touch somehow soft and tender despite the rigid tension you can see in his arms, in his back, in his shoulders.
“We can do anything we want,” he whispers.
His breath is warm on your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He really believes it. And god do you want to believe it too. But…
“I’m sorry.”
Tears brim along your lashline as you wedge your fingers under his to wrench them from your face, rushing to get out of the van before he can stop you. Your footsteps thud on the concrete as you retreat inside the house and lean on the door in the foyer until you hear him backing down the driveway and the glow of his headlights has disappeared completely from view.
You drift back upstairs, heading for your sister’s room that has lain untouched since they left. Past all the places you and he defiled this summer. Past your bed with its rumpled sheets that still smell of Camels and cologne. Past the guest room where Eddie barely slept, lying awake at night thinking of you instead. Past the answering machine and its flashing red light that signals a new message has been left, one you’ll listen to in the morning with bleary bloodshot eyes.
It’s your sister letting you know they’ve changed their flight. They’ll be home tomorrow.
Which is now today.
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Having John and Viv back in the house is an adjustment.
Upon playing their message, you and Steve did a sweep of every room trying to get it back up to his mother’s impeccable standards you’d let slide since your arrival…in more ways than one.
You don’t see much of Steve’s father, which feels normal because you never do. Even after all the deals he closed this summer, he somehow only has to work more now that he’s home. Most mornings, he’s up and headed to the office before the rest of the world has hit the first snooze on their alarms. And some nights he stays until long after the rest of the house has gone to bed.
It gives you and your sister lots of time to talk. Well, it gives her time to talk. And the one thing she simply can’t seem to stop talking about is how incredible the yard looks.
She keeps looking out the windows and sighing wistfully as she stares at the haven Eddie has created. She starts to take her morning coffee, her afternoon tea, her evening glass of port out on the patio just to marvel at the perennials just beginning to flower. She’s beyond thrilled.
And you’re…fine. At least you can pretend like you are. Most days.
It’s easy to slip back into the state of numbness that was your home base after everything with your ex. But with him, you had just felt mad. There was no guilt or remorse eating away at your insides. No bottomless pit of doubt in your stomach, no needling thoughts of regret gnawing at you constantly. No part of you left wondering if you’d made a terrible mistake.
Or rather, another one.
What’s really not helping is Viv going out of her way to berate you about how you’re going about this all wrong. She’s quick to scold you for moping around the house, asking if this is what you’ve done all summer. She’s adamant you should be getting back out there—back on the bike or the horse or whatever other tired ass cliche you preferred.
It’s during one of these rants that the phone rings and mercifully cuts her off. Steve is calling. He left his lunch at home and he’s wondering if someone can bring it to him. Vivian grins.
“Your aunt would love to. She was just saying she needed to get out of the house.”
And she’s not wrong, even if it’s her and not the house you need a break from.
But as you make the turn into Family Video’s lot, your stomach drops at the sight of the brown and white van parked out front. Eddie’s long frame leans on the hood, unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, his hands resting on the hips of a girl he’s got pressed up against him, his fingers toying with the frilled hem of a baby pink top that flashes the bare skin of her lower back.
Your neck is as stiff as death as you walk past, keeping your eyes glued to the door in front of you, trying to ignore the breathy laugh that floats on the air and punctures your brain. You yank on the handle a little too hard, the silver bell overhead even louder in your already ringing ears.
Steve lets out a loud groan of relief when he sees you, or rather when he sees his lunch, and he tears into it right there on the sales floor. He’s the only one on today and the store is deserted— everyone likely at the pool or out enjoying the last few weeks of freedom and warm weather.
Or going for a gold medal in tonsil hockey.
You fold your arms across your chest and lean on the counter, sneaking a glance over your shoulder you know you’ll regret. Most of the display going on outside is obscured by the decals and posters on the windows, but you can still see plenty.
Eddie’s head dips to whisper something in that girl’s ear and you feel about as tall as the crumbs scattering from Steve’s sandwich.
As he chews, your nephew’s gaze follows yours out the window. His brows raise as Eddie grins and he starts to run his hands down the curve of her spine, slipping them snugly into the back pockets of her jeans. Unable to see the grimace on your face, Steve just nods approvingly.
“About time,” he sighs as he rips off another bite. “He’s been like…catatonic lately.”
The sourness in your stomach only curdles further until you mutter out a goodbye to Steve and turn to make your escape. But the very moment that you do, that girl is taking Eddie by the hand and pulling him along behind her into the store. You and she nearly collide at the door, close enough you can smell the sickly sweet peach lip gloss she’s wearing.
“Oh! Sorry, ma’am,” she says, blithely smiling as she floats over to the new releases.
Behind her, Eddie stands staunchly in the doorway. He takes up the entire exit, his dark clothes seemingly absorbing all the light in the room as you lift your chin to look him in the eye.
You expect to find contempt. Something callous and unfeeling. More than merely smug, you’re sure he will be dripping with arrogance and condescension. Because he’s got every right to be, doesn’t he? You really think I cared about you? Don’t you see how fast I can replace you?
But when you do look at him, there is only pain etched into his features. He holds your gaze for no more than a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. You think that all of civilization could be crumbling into ruin around you and you would never know because you can’t stand to tear your eyes away from his. And you don’t, until he drops his head and turns sideways to let you pass.
His cologne stings in your nostrils as you do, and your arm brushes the edge of his denim vest. And you don’t make it but a block away before you have to pull off onto a side street and cry.
For the next two weeks, the sky is permanently gray.
Dark and mottled clouds roll in sometime that evening and suddenly even the smallest sliver of sunshine becomes as precious as real gold. Their coverage is dense and the air becomes thick and muggy with humidity that only gets more oppressive, yet never gets any closer to breaking.
Every day, the house seems to get smaller. It’s like you’re a rat in a maze and the scientists who are studying you keep removing portions of it until you’ve been boxed in with no escape. But the idea of going out, the thought of running into Eddie again, is too much for you to bear the risk.
The only thing that brings you any sort of solace is that the school year will start soon and you’ll have work to distract you again. Truthfully, the only reason you have yet to extract yourself from Hawkins is because your new housing—a little craftsman you’re going to rent from the head of your department at the university—won’t be ready for you to move in until the end of August.
But the looming threat of your departure somehow only encourages Vivian.
You should have known something was up the moment she said she wanted to have a “family dinner” to celebrate your last night. You should have known when you came into your room and found a bag from her favorite department store sitting on your bed containing a sundress far too floral for your taste. It might as well have had a post-it on it that said “Wear Me” like your mother used to put on your school clothes when she laid them out for you in the morning.
If you were smart, you might have thrown it out the window. Or maybe even climbed through it yourself and scaled down the trellis to make a run for it. Instead, you put it on. And your feet are like lead on the steps as you come down to find your sister bustling around the dining room.
Your brow furrows as you count four place settings. “I thought Steve had a date,” you say.
“He does,” she hums, shooting you a sidelong glance. “And so do you.”
“Viv, no. Please don’t do this—”
“I haven’t done anything!”
She throws her hands up and smiles, but all the faux innocence in the world can’t disguise that glint of mischief in her eyes. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by the doorbell.
“That must be him,” she titters, flapping a napkin behind you to shoo you into the foyer. “Go on, now, don’t keep him waiting!”
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Eddie parks his van down the street from Steve’s house, under the cover of some tree branches that hang low over the road. He smokes two cigarettes down to the filters and debates on a third as he tries to summon the courage to get out of the car. Every part of his body seems to be at odds with him, unwilling to settle until he finally kicks open the door and gets out.
His feet carry him forward in long, determined strides but they falter when he sees a car he isn’t expecting sitting in the driveway. It’s a cruiser. One Eddie found himself pulled over by on more than a few occasions, being scrutinized by the giant hulking man now ringing the doorbell.
Hopper.
He’s not in uniform. In fact, he’s more dressed up than Eddie has ever seen him, all trussed up in a sport coat over a button down that he’s actually buttoned. Shit, is his shirttail tucked in?
“Munson?” he says in surprise. “What brings you here?”
But before Eddie can answer, the door is opening and it's you on the other side. Eyes widening when they land on him and then blinking furiously when you realize Hopper is there as well.
“Um…hi.”
It’s hard to say who looks more uncomfortable as you step aside so Hopper can come in and you exchange some stilted pleasantries. You remember him from high-school and you aren’t all that surprised the town’s terminal bachelor is the one your sister has decided to foist upon you.
What is surprising is that Eddie is here. And his eyes are searing into you, while you have yet to fully acknowledge him. In all honesty, you're not entirely convinced he isn’t a hallucination. Only when Viv appears and glides into the chaos like a parade float do you actually believe it.
“I thought that was you, Chief. So glad you could make it—Oh, Eddie!” 
Her eyes fall on the boy still hovering in the doorway, her hand coming up to her chest. 
“I’m so sorry, dear, but Steve’s already left for his date. Wait right here, though, I have some money for you for all that work you did.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
Eddie takes a hurried step forward, his white sneakers finally breaching the threshold. Vivian is already gone, though, rushing up the stairs. Leaving you alone. With both of them.
“Hey…Hop. John’s in the den, if you want a drink,” you tell him, pointing the way.
With a terse nod and a gruff sound you presume is him answering in the affirmative, Hopper heads down the hall and leaves you and Eddie to your uncomfortable hovering. He leans on the narrow table in the entryway, staring at his own hand as he traces the edge of the wood with his finger, the rest of his hand closed in a fist. He won’t look at you now. Won’t lift his chin an inch.
“What are you doing here?” you whisper.
Eddie just shrugs, staring now at his sneakers he’s scuffing against the oriental rug under his feet. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. His chest rises with the breath he draws, but he swallows his non-response when he hears Vivian at the top of the stairs.
“Here you go, dear,” she says, handing over the envelope full of cash with his name written on it that’s been sitting on her bureau for weeks now.
His head shakes. “You really don’t have to—”
“Nonsense! You did such beautiful work out there, it was so wonderful to come home to. You ought to think about going into landscaping.”
Vivian just about forces the envelope into his hands and he mutters out a thank you, tapping his fingers on it and making furtive glances towards the door as she whirls around to you.
“You two met, right?” she asks. “He must have been here all the time working.”
“Y-yeah, yes, we—”
“Thank you,” Eddie says, stuffing the money into his back pocket and reaching for the doorknob in one motion. Still not looking you in the eye. “I’ll, um…I’m sorry to disturb you…”
He goes to leave, one foot already out the door when she suddenly stops and looks back over his shoulder. You feel your breath catch, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours.
“Have a good night,” he says quietly. And then he’s gone.
The door doesn’t slam. He doesn’t even shut it particularly hard. Still, you can’t help but flinch as it closes soundly behind him. There’s something so final about it, but it doesn’t feel like enough after everything that’s happened—it doesn’t feel right for it to end with something so hollow.
Vivian just smiles and loops her arm with yours.
“Ready to go find the boys?”
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You walk Hopper to the door after dinner, more or less coerced into it by your sister.
There’s a slight scuffle as you try and figure out how to say goodnight to one another. He winds up reaching out a hand as big as a bear’s paw and clumsily pats your shoulder, almost like he is one, when he seemingly can’t decide between hugging you or shaking your hand. 
Chuckling through it the best you can, you keep the same fake smile you’ve worn all night firmly plastered in place until the door closes with him on the other side. And you stand there for a minute, not too keen on going back in the kitchen for your impending cross-examination.
But then your eyes land on the vase sitting on the table in the entryway. More specifically, on the folded piece of paper tucked behind it with only a ripped edge peeking out. 
You reach for it, flashing back to a ringed finger tracing the edge of that table, fist clenched around something, and your hands shake as you unfold it to read Eddie’s note scrawled inside.
I’m parked down the street.
It’s just starting to rain as you hurry down the driveway, skulking through shadows as you walk along the quiet street. In the distance, you can hear the rumble of the approaching storm as fat raindrops hit the top of your head and slide down your scalp through the forest of your roots.
A pitch black sky overhead matches the road under your feet, scantly lit by a lone streetlight. The wind picks up as you look around for Eddie’s van and just when you’re starting to think he must have left already, you spot him on the side of the road under the cover of some trees.
At first all you can see is the glowing orange dot at the end of his cigarette, but his face steadily comes into view as you approach the driver’s side door. A blatant attempt to avoid what you know will happen if you climb in the passenger seat.
The rain starts to fall a little harder as he rolls his window down. It soaks the ground at your feet, clouds of steam rising from the pavement. The air is thick and heavy, like standing in a bowl of soup. It has your shoulders sagging with the weight and your lungs struggling to draw breath.
At least that’s what you let yourself believe.
“How was your date?” Eddie asks with a bitter laugh that does little to disguise his disgust. You shake your head, pushing back a wet piece of hair clinging to your cheek.
“It wasn’t a…It was just dinner.”
The hurt in your voice makes his eyes round and soften, cheeks hollowing as he takes a long drag. Seemingly breathing in as deeply as he can to steady his own frayed nerves.
“I was afraid you might have left already,” he says.
“No,” you tell him, eyes falling to your feet. “Not ‘til tomorrow.”
He nods.
“I, uh—I know I shouldn’t just show up like this. But I wanted to tell you…” His jaw is clenched, bottom lip shaking almost imperceptibly, corners of his mouth turning downwards as he stubs out his smoke. “I need you to know that I don’t regret it. Any of it.”
He lifts his gaze to meet yours on the last words, brown eyes like twin black holes that hold all the mysteries of the universe. There’s a terrifying vastness to them, a depth you’ve only barely scratched the surface of. Your lips press together and you pinch your eyes shut as your hand creeps up to rest on the door, fingers curling around it as raindrops splash on the interior.
The thunder only gets louder as the storm nears, the rain now falling in a rapid patter. Here it is, you tell yourself. This is what you knew was coming. This is where you knew you’d end up.
“I don’t regret it either,” you say, raising your voice over the sound of the rain, forcing down the tremble in it. “And I…I’ll never forget it.”
You can only hold his gaze for a second before you have to look away. And as you do, you give the door a tight squeeze, wishing it was his hand instead.
“Bye, Eddie.”
Your feet carry you away like you’re on autopilot.
You’re barely conscious of the steps you take or the direction you head in as the rain ramps up to a downpour and fully soaks through your clothes. Your head is spinning and foggy, unable to register much of anything until one sound breaks through—the creak of the van door swinging open and slamming shut, followed by the splashing of water under sneakers.
The solid weight of his hand on your shoulder makes you start as he turns you towards him, the rain falling harder and the wind blowing faster all around. The trees overhead whip back and forth in a frenzy, their branches dipping low and their leaves swirling wildly in the air.
“Eddie, someone could see—”
He wraps his hands around your wrists to wrench you closer, pulling you into his body, both of your faces splattered with rain, barely able to see anything beyond each other.
“Let them,” he breathes out before his lips slam into yours.
The sound of the storm is only magnified inside of Eddie’s van, every drop of rain on the metal roof practically deafening as you climb through the rear and your bodies slide against the floor. The carpet inside is rough and scratchy, the fibers imbedded with decades worth of dirt and crumbs and tobacco and weed particles, but you can’t find the will within you to care.
All you can think about, all you can focus on, is him.
His kiss is harsh and punishing, lips mashing rough against yours, teeth clacking as he devours you. Aggressive and bruising in a way that, deep down, you know you deserve. 
Your wet clothes cleave to your bodies as you struggle to drag them off, steadfast in their refusal despite your feverish attempts. Eddie’s jeans and boxers only make it to the middle of his thighs before he’s pushing inside of you and a strangled moan releases from his throat.
The stretch makes you writhe, the stinging pain quickly becoming an afterthought as your need for him overrides everything else. You fist his wet shirt in your hands, rivulets of water trickling down your forearms as you clutch it tight to pull his body as close to yours as it can get.
Adrenaline races in your veins as he begins to thrust and you realize it’s the first time he’s taken you bare, the velvet of his skin dragging against your walls with nothing to separate you.
He fucks you fast and hard, your legs kicking up to wrap around his waist, your ass burning from the friction, your muscles tightening and tensing with every move. His whole body is quaking as he drives himself inside, the van rocking, teetering like it’s about to tip over the edge of a cliff.
He fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll get to, because he’s pretty sure it will be.
“Let me come in you,” he groans in your ear, more command than request. “Want to fill you up, want you to feel every…fucking…drop…”
The words are grunted out in time with his thrusts, his hips pushing deeper with every heaving breath, his cock twitching inside you as your walls pulse and tighten around him.
“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god!”
Your fingers weave into his wet curls, twisting them in your grasp at the root, tugging his head up and holding him there so you can stare into his eyes, your own vision strained in the dark.
Lightning flashes through the windshield, followed instantly by a clap of thunder. So close it could have struck right outside. For an instant, the van is illuminated and you see his face fully—eyes wide and wild, hair half-dried in damp coils, tattoos stark against pale skin that glows white.
It only lasts a second, but it shows you everything you need to see.
“Come, Eddie,” you gasp as the lightning dissipates and the whole van rattles from the force. “Want you to come for me, come in me—”
And he does. As fast and hard as the lightning strike, Eddie’s cock bursts with rope after rope of his release spurting inside of you, your center tingling as the feeling of it spreads throughout your body. The noise he makes in your ear is ungodly. It pours out from deep in his throat, guttural and resonant as the echoing claps of thunder. He drops all of his weight onto you, shaking from the force of his orgasm as you’re flattened between him and the floor.
“It’s okay,” you coo softly, your fingers loosening your grip on his hair to stroke it instead, nails dragging soft and slow against his scalp.
He shivers at your gentle and soothing touch, inhaling shaky breaths of you with his face pressed to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Safe and dark and warm.
“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking in a dry sob as his tears slide off his cheeks to mix with the rainwater and sweat on your skin. Your throat clenches as you swallow, still trying to force down the words that have sat heavy in the center of your chest for weeks now, fighting to be said.
Finally, finally, finally, they make it out.
“I love you too.”
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requested tags: @winchester-angel @nope-thanks @skyfullofsong123 @mmmunson @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction
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starlostseungmin · 2 days
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husband!changbin
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✰ notes: finally a changbin fic after 2 years omg and i apologize for posting this late as i was busy studying !! special mention to @l3visbby for giving me ideas <33 not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33
chan | lee know( changbin )hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin
Husband Changbin who proposed on a random Thursday evening when you were on a car ride home. He suddenly parked the car by the sidewalk and asked the million-dollar question that would determine your relationship in the future. 
Husband Changbin who would always ask you to hold his hand while driving. 
Husband Changbin who is tough on the outside but sweet and soft inside. He’s the cutest human being in your life. 
Husband Changbin who would send pictures of him while he’s at the gym making you giggle and blush every time. Sometimes he would ask you to work out with him as a form of bond, “You need to exercise to be healthy!”
Husband Changbin whose muscles you want to bite (he would say yes) that you would often ask him to headlock you but he’d refuse because he might choke you later. 
Husband Changbin who loves taking an interest in your hobbies and asks you to teach him. (e.g. if you happened to like crocheting then he would gladly pick up his favorite colors of yarn and crochet Dwaekki). At first, he would mess it up and complain playfully but he gets it later on. 
Husband Changbin who spoils you A LOT and lets you use his card. 
Husband Changbin who’s loud and gets even louder when he’s with his friends. 
Husband Changbin who has the most precious and contagious laugh. 
Husband Changbin notices everything subtly and gives you the things you want without you asking for it. 
Husband Changbin who loves showing you off, enjoys writing songs about you, and telling everyone how great you are, how much he loves you, and how he is so proud of having you in his life.
Husband Changbin whose love languages are words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gift-giving. 
Husband Changbin who loves taking photos of you. He would often ask you to pose on a pretty scenery/background so he could choose something to be his home screen later on. 
Husband Changbin who takes you on a trip once a month and goes to your favorite places when you need to get off from work. 
Husband Changbin who is protective and makes sure you don’t get hurt. He takes care of you diligently, tells you to eat on time, and nags you (lovingly yet strictly) like a mother when something he doesn’t like happens.  
Husband Changbin who would put you first before everything and let the world burn just to save you. 
Husband Changbin who panics when he sees you crying and sad. He would automatically capture you in his arms as he whispers how much he loves you and that he’s always there when you need him. 
Husband Changbin who’s calm when you’re having an argument and tries his best to make up with you. He’s the type to never let anyone sleep in this household unless everything is fine. He may lose his temper sometimes but apologizes a few minutes later. 
Husband Changbin who refuses to leave your shared apartment without you giving him a sweet kiss and showers you with kisses when he gets home. 
Husband Changbin who loves cuddles on random nights after having a very long day until you two fall asleep on the couch or your shared bed. 
Husband Changbin who loves to joke around but when he noticed that you weren’t laughing he’d turn away out of embarrassment and sulk at the corner making you baby him. 
Husband Changbin who acts cute and makes questionable noises to get what he wants which you would immediately give in to. 
Husband Changbin who would bring up the topic of having kids in the most subtle way but just like the other members, he doesn’t pressure you and lets you decide whenever you’re ready to have one or two with him. 
Husband Changbin who never misses a call or text from you and updates you a lot whenever he can despite his busy schedule. 
Husband Changbin whom you promised to love to the moon and back no matter what challenges come in your way. You never said your vows for nothing and will love him to eternity. 
Husband Changbin who loves you more than anyone and promised to stay with you until death do you part. 
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✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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imaluckygirl · 23 hours
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⭑ tastes better because of you
( enhypen reaction )
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synopsis: why does his orders always tastes better? — where you ask or get them to switch drinks/food after tasting his ; because his orders are always better.
( 엔하이픈 ) - hyungline!fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; fluff & some domestic content
୨ৎ back to the bookshelf . . .
note: hi . . . me after disappearing and appearing all of a sudden hehe ,, didn’t really checked this one ( just took a quick look as i was adding some stuff ) so it might have some grammar errors ; forgive me ><
warnings : mentions of food.
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i can picture heeseung's brows going up, because he couldn't understand what you just said. however, the first time it happened he acted like it was completely normal.
when heeseung and you started dating for a month, he decided to celebrate his free time with you, asking you to go out with him to a cafeteria, get a coffee, kiss, hug, hold hands and take pictures. that was the plan. heeseung was a frequent costumer at that cafeteria, so when he walked in with you, he already knew what he wanted to order — even receiving greetings from the workers ( and not gonna lie, you got a little bit jealous back then ). “yeah, and for her is... what do you want to order baby?” your boyfriend whispered at you while he gazed at you looking at the coffee options. pouting at some options, you finally decided what you wanted to order. he then proceeded to finish the order and respectfully thanked the cashier, holding your hands once again after you thanked the cashier as after him.
waiting for his order, heeseung spent this minutes talking with you. since it has been just one month you two began to date, he was still a bit shy and hesitant, afraid that he might make you uncomfortable. when the barista called that familiar name, heeseung — still holding your hands — walked to the counter, handed the man the receipt and handed you your drink; taking a sip of his after thanking the barista with a smile.
walking out of the cafeteria, you took a sip of your drink and it was good. “what do you think?” he asked you. “it's good.” you shrugged with a smile, shyly nodding. “do you wanna to try mine?” oh, our naive boy... you remembered hearing his drink of choice and you kinda scrunched your nose, not really impressed or interested. however, when he insisted for you to try it — yelling in the middle of the street “just try it babe!” — and you took a hesitant sip, your mind was blown. “it’s so good.” your eyes were widen and your brows went up in surprise. your boyfriend chuckled, asking: “did you?” smiling widely. and then you nodded and he asked the fatidic question: “wanna switch?” “no, i’m okay...” you shyly answered, feeling your cheeks burning because of your exaggerated reaction over a drink; embarrassing yourself in front of your one month love while you enjoyed your blend boring drink.
nowadays things are completely different. a new kind of intimacy had bloomed, steps forward from puppy love to a more mature one. with that, the level of shyness was close to zero and you felt more free to talk to heeseung without blushing every single time, or feeling like you were being inconvenient. so, whenever you go out with your boyfriend and he orders something, you ask him for a bite or a sip — saying that you were saving him time. “is it good?” you asked heeseung, your mouth slight watering at the sight of his ice cream. before he could answer, you said: “can i have some?” you blinked your eyes at him, sending your puppy eyes directly to his heart. he just handed you his spoon and moved his arm closer to your hand; so you could scoop some of his ice cream, and obviously his ice cream tasted so much better. but oh well, i think he would rather sharing both ice creams than actually switching with you, still, every time you order something you don't like, heeseung is there to save you.
let's talk about jongseong now. we know that he's very caring and loves to pamper you, so you expected he would just say “sure.” and give you some of his coffee. however, when you asked your boyfriend if you could try his drink, probably he would chuckle a little, exposing his beautiful smile and playfully take a sip of his drink. “i thought you said you don't like coffee?” he cocked a brow, teasing you. “yeah, but i want to try it now.” you pouted. “you can try some of mine if you wan-” “here, try it.” he handed you the drink with a soft grin, like jongseong was mesmerised by your cuteness. — how did he get so lucky to have you for himself?
okay, let's say you didn't like the drink, what would he say? “i told you so.” or something, laughing at your scrunched nose and squinted eyes, all of that because of the strong coffee flavour; you thought you would get familiar with — at least you hoped so. but, in the other hand, if you actually liked his drink he would simply say: “let’s switch them then.” and just shrug. and, don't you dare saying no to him. if he baby likes it, his baby gets it. — couple goals...
another situation that this can happen is when he’s off work and goes get you take-out like you were craving the whole week. i mean, he cooks for you, but sometimes you just want a greasy industrial food; and not a homemade soup or something. and honestly, if you are feeling guilty about it, brush this feeling away, jongseong is just like you: he has these times where he just don’t want to cook, but he DENIES to see you in the kitchen. you still don’t know if this was an excuse to make him feel better for not feeding you 'real' food or if he was honestly scared to see you making a mess at the kitchen and accidently blowing up the house...
alright, let me get straight to the point! he text you saying that he was going home. once he walked in the living room, he was met with the cutest scene — you wearing your cozy pyjamas with your fringe slipped back by the pink headband you bought last time he went at daiso with you. “you look so cute.” and when you saw him your body jumped, surprised by him and embarrassed. “h-hi...”
“did you like it?” your boyfriend asked if you liked the burger you ordered. “yeah...” feeling your unsure and disappointed tone he smirked. “want to try mine?” and when you slowly nodded and pursed your lips, getting closer to him across the table and hesitantly taking a bite of his burger, jongseong could tell your eyes shined. “good?” he asked while you sat back on your chair, enjoying the savory burger. this time you instantly nodded, making your boyfriend smile. “here.” and surprisingly he had ordered another one, just for you because he knows you so well. although he bought you a brand new one, you insisted that you preferred the one he was eating because it tasted somehow kinda different — even though it was the same burger, it wasn’t the same flavour.
i can imagine how long it would take for jaeyun get your hints that you didn’t like your drink/food that much and wanted to try his. you remember the scene of both of you just sitting on a park bench, and keep in mind that this encounter was in the very beginning of his relationship with you. i mean, jaeyun is not dumb because let’s be real, back then his favorite subject was physics and math; numbers, letters and all of that math things we’ll never use in our daily life. anyway, you got my point. however, even though you knew jaeyun since middle school, when you started dating him you really thought he was kinda dumb, when he actually was just too focused on you. for an example, one day you were holding hands with him and when you were about to cross the street, jaeyun almost got ran over by a car. don’t even ask me how this happened, it just happened.
okay, let’s continue: as you sat on the bench by your boyfriend’s side, and you were clearly NOT enjoying your drink and trying to give him hints by making a disgusted face after taking a sip of your drink while replying to one of his random questions. you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring your hints or actually not realising. you preferred to believe he wasn’t getting them. nowadays you would probably distinguish in a second and tell him what you want right away; and jaeyun is less stupid because he matured and became an adult. “baby,” he called you with a frow, and your eyes shined, thinking he finally realised. “what if we moved together in the future and get a dog?” you sigh, but still replied him calmly.
after a few minutes taking small sips of your drink, you got the courage to ask your boyfriend if you could have some of his drink. “of course baby!” he would flash his head at you the second you call him, moving his focus from the little boy petting his dog’s head and handing you the drink with a sweet smile. you smiled back, taking a sip of his drink and damn he’s drink of choice was MUCH better. actually, you found out later that it was the same coffee but he added something different ( like an extra ) and that little something changed the entire drink’s flavour. of course he knew what was better, you remember how much you’ve seen that coffee’s shop logo back in high school.
“did you like your drink?” he would ask you after you took a long sip from his drink. “yeah, it’s okay...” when he saw how your lips pouted and you shrugged; speaking in a low tone voice, he asked you softly: “did you like mine better?” and when you nodded he smiled. “okay, give me yours and you can have mine.” you definitely wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to kiss your cheeks and lips after taking your ordered drink out of your hands. he was trying to hide a smile and hold in a giggle, ending up in some weird mouth/guttural sounds?
nowadays, as i previously mentioned, jaeyun got more mature as expected and got to know you better for a long period of time. even though you were his best friend a long time before both of you confessed to have feelings for each other in your late days of high school — close to the graduation day where he asked you. your boyfriend kept being kinda silly around you but he’s more observant. not completely because he still has that unique and authentic puppy personality you always cherished, and sometimes you can tell when he’s pretending to not get your hints just to see your cute frustrated frown and kiss that pout out of your lips, saying that he understood that you didn’t like your drink/food that much.
sunghoon would be completely silent. like, he would immediately realise you didn’t like your drink because he is more of an observant than an speaker. it’s funny how jaeyun and sunghoon contrast with each other.
usually he goes out with you, and one day he decided he wanted to book a fly to japan with you, to spend a whole month exploring tokyo, osaka, and spend time with you at the best restaurants and cute coffee shops he could find in the internet. even though, as i always say, sunghoon doesn’t show or look like an affectionate person, he is, but he loves in silence, and waits for the right time to let it show. he feels safe with this type of love/relationship, and you never showed signs of being uncomfortable with how he deals with his feelings. i think it was always a lot for him to process, but we’ll talk about those feelings in another opportunity.
in japan your boyfriend told you he knew a cute coffee shop in tokyo, and he was definitely not admitting too soon he was following a account named: ‘best of japan restaurants’ ( with an underscore between japan and restaurants ) — he also followed some of riki’s advice.
arriving at the cute coffee shop — that looked more like a chic boutique if someone passes by the place in a rush —, sunghoon had already planned everything, so there was an booked table just for both of you. right after he walked in — with your with your hand attached to his and warmed up in his coat’s pocket — hearing the sound of a bell ringing and an feminine voice exclaiming ‘WELCOME!’ in japanese; and watching an young lady approaching. — “こんにちはようこそ!テーブルは予約しましたか、それともテーブルを選びたいですか?” “sunghoon, call riki to help us…”
okay, this is a funny story so i’ll probably tell you later, but after spending a good minutes trying to explain the attendant that he had an table booked under his name, she finally gave both of you a green light. as the menu got placed onto the table by the japanese lady, you began to look for something and your boyfriend seemed to do the same as you, but asking: “what did you liked in the menu pretty?” and you would blush. when you told him what you wanted and he struggled once again to order in japanese, a few minutes later your drinks and pastries arrived. “looks good.” sunghoon hummed and took a sip of his drink, waiting for you reaction after trying yours. and when you smacked your lips twice he knew you didn’t liked it.
with that information, he looked at you and sighed, switching the drinks and proceeding to take a sip of your order. “it’s good, keep this one,” he pointed to his order. “i like this one better.” and you pout, but still tries really hard to hold in a big smile — even though he can still see your cheeks getting red.
and he did this every time since then, already being able to tell if you liked something or did not. — and that counts at social events too.
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extra note: maybe i should post an sunghoon headcanon about this trip to japan + a ot7 enhypen scenario/thoughts — what do you guys think?
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© imaluckygirl , originals .ᐟ 24.
taglist: @jakesangel . . . ( wanna join? send me an ask ! )
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marvelsmylife · 2 days
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Irrationally jealous
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel becomes jealous when he finds out Cassian has been visiting you a lot lately, so he decides to reminds you that he was the first one to bed you when you first moved in.
A/n I’m sorry this is so short. This is more of a drabble. Nesta is next though and things are going to get kinky with her (followed by a Nessian threesome).
Inner Circles Whore Masterlist
ACOTAR Masterlist
Fourth Wing Masterlist (I know this has nothing to do with this story, I just want you guys to be aware that I write for Fourth Wing as well)
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Azriel was seething as he watched you make out with Cassian before disappearing into your room. This wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that Cassian has been staying over for two consecutive weeks. Yes, he knew you didn’t belong to him, Rhysand and Feyre hired to bring them all pleasure when they wished. Still, a part of him that felt like you did belong to him.
As soon as Cassian left, Azriel appeared at your door. “Cassian, for the last time, you have to tell Nesta- oh Azriel, how can I help you?” You asked.
Instead of replying, Azriel just lifted you into his arms and carried you into your room. Azriel wasted no and got both of you undressed and was between your legs. “Azriel, go easy. I’m still sensitive from Cassian,” you arched your back as you felt Azriel’s tongue flicking your clit while he curled his fingers deep inside you.
“Never mention another male’s name while my fingers are inside you,” Azriel warned before removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock.
You were panting heavily as Azriel took you in every position he knew. A part of you felt like he was trying to mark his territory as he bit, licked, and sucked every inch of your body. “Mine,” Azriel growled possessively, “You’re fuck mine.”
“Yes, gods, yes,” you chanted, “I’m yours Az. I’m all yours.”
Just then, Azriel felt something snap in him. He stopped mid-thrust and stared deep into your eyes, “Are you ok?” you asked Azriel.
Azriel quickly nodded his head before he continued his actions. Reaching down, Azriel started massaging your clit until he felt you cumming around his cock. “That’s it, cum. Fuck, you look so hot when you cum,” Azriel groaned into your ear as he continued to thrust until he came as well.
Azriel kept moving until he felt his cock softening and reluctantly pulled out. “Gods, I missed you in my bed. Why haven’t you visited me?” You asked while Azriel covered your neck with love bites.
“Cassian has been hogging you,” Azriel replied bitterly, “He’s lucky he’s my brother, or else I would have murdered him already for taking so much of your time.”
You found yourself rolling your eyes at Azriel’s comment before replying, “He’s having a difficult time with Nesta, and I’ve been fucking him to distract him from his troubles. You, my sweet shadow-singer, will always be my number one.”
Azriel felt his ego boost at your comments and was ready to go again when you stopped him. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we can’t go another round or spend the night together. I’m leaving for the day court in the morning.” You could see the hurt in Azriel’s eyes, but he nodded and started getting dressed. When Azriel was at the door, you called his name, “I’ll see you in two months.”
Pushing aside his hurt, Azriel replied, “I’ll see you in two months,” before exiting your room and started to wonder two things. One: if what he felt while you were having sex was the mating bond snapping into place for him. Two: if you were his mate, would he have the right to tell you that you couldn’t have sex with anybody else but him. Azriel just shook his head and disappeared to his room.
@lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @golden-canyon @nayaniasworld @slut4acotar @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @harrystylesfan2686 @heartless-tate @fussel9913 @123345566 @paleidiot
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chosows · 2 days
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FIRE ON ICE 🏒
Ice hockey Sukuna x Fem Reader
Summary: Hockey—a sport that had taken over his life, and yours. Every day of the past month has been dedicated to his performance for the upcoming game; this game determines their position in the tournament as the rightful victors.
Sukuna takes great pride in his preparations, often neglecting you in the process to ensure his focus is entirely on the game. Whatever the fate may be, he is aware of his absence in the relationship. He swears that given this victory tonight, he will share you a fix of his undivided attention.
Word count: 5.5k
Contains: Smut, established relationship, teasing, public displays of affection (brief), top!Sukuna, bottom!reader, cunnilingus, penetration, brief aftercare
Note: i keep getting hockey edits plastered over my social media feeds and it’s taking over my life, so now it can take over yours too. this is also my first post on tumblr + first oneshot (not my first time writing—i typically prefer my long fics); this may be a little rough
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Saturday, September 14th, 11:00 AM
With a few hours remaining before the match begins, you attempt to settle down in the hotel room they had provided as his accommodation. It was ridiculously fancy, decked out beyond belief; the closet has its own room, something even your apartment lacks. The view was exceptional; you could see the arena from the floor-to-ceiling length windows. The building that would decide the fate of his career could change both of your lives if his team succeeds. Though Sukuna would never admit to his emotions, you could sense the tension and dread growing inside him each passing day. His anger becomes out of control when he is overwhelmed; he struggles to process his thoughts and allows them to overflow, spurting whatever hurtful words they harbour at you. You know he doesn’t mean it, he could never harm you; you’re his good luck charm—his motivation. When tensions are heightened, you figure it’s best to stay out of his way; he regulates alone, any other input will add kinder to his raging flames. Fans have been highly active in the media, small video and picture edits of the team are blowing up—especially the ones of your boyfriend. Herds of women flock to these hockey matches despite admitting they only attend to see the player they deem most attractive. Many of the older men had found your social media accounts through Sukuna and would send you direct messages, expecting you to have the latest scoop on the team. In reality, you pay little to no attention to the logic behind the sport; all you do is support Sukuna with no other thought in your mind. He has attempted to explain the process but it doesn’t register in your brain; a brick wall would take better understanding than you do. Buzzing sounds and your phone vibrates on top of the wooden bedside table, casting your attention to the lit-up phone screen. A Facetime call is coming through, so you quickly do your best to shape up your appearance before answering.
“Hey,” The camera shows Sukuna alone in the locker room, his jersey resting beside him on the bench as he rests his head against the cool metal, “Only three hours left, you excited to see me out there?”
“You know I am; you should see what it’s like on social media. They’re all talking about the game, there’s been a few thousand posts under the team name in an hour.”
“Good, we’re going to give them something to talk about.”
“I can’t wait for this to be over, I feel like I haven’t spent time with you properly in months.”
“I know. It’s been tough, you’ve gotten through it quite well though.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to steal you straight after the game?”
“Don’t know, they might have us do some interviews. I’ll try my best to make it quick.”
“How come you’re not dressed?”
“Started sweating so I took everything off, it’s been a mess over here.” He pats his hand against his abs, then tilts his head slightly to the side to reposition himself more comfortably.
“You’re stressing yourself out again, Sukuna.”
“You think?”
“Give yourself a breather, don’t let it weigh too heavily on your mind. You don’t want to let your emotions mess with you mid-game.”
“That’s easy for you to say, it’s far harder than it looks.”
“I believe in you,” You smile at him through the screen, and his eyes drift to your mouth, “I’ll be there yelling your name, cheering you on louder than everyone else.”
“That’s all I need. I’ll see you soon, baby.”
“I love you, go win us that game.” He takes a final moment to glance at you, the grin on his face visible before he ends the call.
With little time left to spare, you take action and begin dressing accordingly. Since it can get cold being so close to the ice, you’re advised to layer up. You select one of your sweatshirts and a pair of pants that will ideally match the outfit you crafted inside of your mind, praying that it will look better when it’s on your body than it does laid out in front of you. Pairing the sweatshirt with one of Sukuna’s jerseys adds to a cosy yet stylish outfit; you have to look your best since there are chances that the cameras, at some stage, will be on you. It doesn’t have to be formal, but it must be presentable—that’s what Sukuna always tells you. If you wouldn’t wear it for a job interview then you shouldn’t wear it in front of the camera, so you take those words into careful consideration while dolling yourself up. You do your usual makeup routine and style your hair in your preferred way, aiming to keep the casual look to not overdo yourself. To finalise your appearance, you slip on a bobble hat and scarf which matches the colour of the team; your pace increases as you catch the time, sliding into your shoes by the door.
Travel has already been arranged for you; there’s a car waiting outside to take you to the stadium to avoid the hassle of fans. Since you are the girlfriend of a team member, they allow you to enter earlier. Driving through the city spotting civilians wearing the rugby jerseys and merchandise sends sparks of exhilaration through your soul; it’s a thrilling experience and you are more than grateful to be in the position you’re in. Many women would kill to be you; Sukuna is just as dreamy as they make him out to be, but they will never gain the true experience of being his lover. His appearance is what gets them hooked; he’s brooding, standing at around 6’7” tall. Fierce eyes, proportional features, and cocky mannerisms make him the man he is. You can’t blame them for drooling over him, he’s everything any woman could ever want. His career isn’t what you chased him for; you initially had no idea who he was when you first met him at that party. The car comes to a halt and you step out, cluelessly approaching the stadium until you wait for someone to guide you. Sukuna’s personal jersey makes you stand out, fans would never be able to attain one like this; he had signed your name under his, a true limited edition. Two of the event managers spot you and escort you through the back, now passing through the hallways where all the players are situated before the game starts. You attempt to peek around corners in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sukuna before the game, but your luck runs dry.
Front row, in a seat beside the wife of the coach; you are more than familiar with Kenjaku, considering yourselves as friends due to the interactions you share outside of the sports world. Her seat was empty but his jacket was draped over the chair, signalling his return shortly. A few other women were here, though you aren’t acquainted with them; a majority of the men on the team switch their girlfriends far quicker than you can keep up with. Sukuna is teased for his long-term relationship, especially for the fact that he still hasn’t proposed to you. Their words are a nuisance to him, nothing but fodder; when the time is right, he will make his move. Peer pressure could not affect someone who has always stood out amongst the crowd. You settle down and shove your hands into your pockets, eagerly waiting for the fans to begin piling in. The sound elevates when the main doors open, and then the hordes of people flock to their designated areas. Life is what makes the atmosphere of these games so mesmerising, you wonder if Sukuna still feels that awe while on the ice. Kenjaku slips past and takes his wife’s seat momentarily, handing you a pair of gloves Sukuna advised him to give to you.
“Good afternoon, hockey fans!” The commentator blasts out on the speakers, diminishing the build-up of chatter into silence. Kenjaku pleads with you to keep a keen eye on his wife’s personal belongings while he dips back to the player bench, awaiting the arrival of his team.
“Welcome to the final game of the tournament; a great day to show up and support your favourite team!”
On the giant screen, the camera pans to the players exiting backstage. There he was, taking steps onto the ice and gliding as though he were still on land. Sukuna was breathtaking, your eyes are trained on him as though he were a deer you are hunting in the wild. The commentator continued to ramble on with the general procedure of announcing the lineups of both respective teams and introducing the coaches to the fans. You stand up from your seat like the others around you and clap, joining in with the chant before the game officially begins. Sukuna spots you in the crowd, shaking his head at how clueless you appear; he tries his best to suppress the chuckle attempting to burst out—he can’t shame you for trying. He settles down, now shifting his mindset to the main goal—securing this game as a victory. This team may cause a problem, but he’s confident enough that this win is in their hands.
“Good luck to both teams, may the game commence!” The voice fades out and then both teams launch towards the puck, battling for ownership.
It’s hard to make out what’s happening as all you can see is the mass amounts of various players whizzing past your eyes. Sukuna is determined to take the lead, so he does. He manoeuvres his way, breaking the opposing team’s line of defence and sending the puck directly to another one of his teammates, only to have it stolen back almost instantly. This battle has been ongoing for the past ten minutes, and Sukuna’s fury is beginning to bubble up. His team are unable to maintain security and control of the puck, rendering his efforts useless. You glance over at Kenjaku near the team bench and notice him holding his head in his hands; his team is falling apart in front of his eyes, and there is little hope for them to obtain a goal anytime soon.
Crashing, cursing, and tumbling are all that have happened so far. Sukuna’s performance is becoming more aggressive, nudging players out of the way as though they were ragdolls and sending them crashing into the barrier. Kenjaku’s screams register over the rowdy crowd, urging him to stop before the referee targets him for fault. Frenzied turmoil had possessed him as he turned a deaf ear, now taking the game into his own hands. He secured the puck and denied making the same mistake he did before; he kept the puck close and eased his way through the obstacles, acting as crowd control amongst all the other players. They were struggling to catch up to him as he approached the opposing goal, their goalkeeper springing to action as he saw Sukuna heading his way—rapidly. That sight alone is enough to make anyone begin to falter, and before he knew it, Sukuna had made his shot, sending the puck straight into the goal through the space left unprotected. The crowd roars as the commentator announces Sukuna’s name and number as the unassisted goal scorer. He sticks his tongue out as the camera captures his face, skating backwards to return to his original position.
Shortly after, the opposing team had matched the scores just before the first intermission commenced. While other members of his team were escorted off, he swiftly made his way over to you, banging his hands against the barrier to grab your attention. You run over to him from your seat, catching a glimpse of Kenjaku scolding him in the background. Sukuna points at you and you cock your head aside, confused as to what he could be wanting to say. You point at yourself and he nods, then he changes the positioning of his finger to himself. You copy his motions and he bobs his head with approval, a knowing smirk painting its way onto his face. He bites his lip and spins in place, rolling his eyes back to make a dirty innuendo. The people behind you were puzzled at the interaction taking place in front of them and you motioned for him to cut it out, hearing his laughter descend as he made his way to catch back up with the members of the team. Before he disappears to the locker room, he points at the area where his heart resides and then back at you, leaving you with a stupidly big smile presented as your current expression. Sukuna deserves this win more than anybody else on their team does.
Behind the scenes, Kenjaku devised a new approach. Since Sukuna is the fastest and most offensive on the ice, he’s their best shot at scoring, meaning the opposing team will have their members on high defence around him. With the idea shared of deceiving them with who their main shooter could be, the other team will not know exactly who to target or when. Sukuna is going to remain off the radar until he’s required to strike, a simple approach that fools typically fall for. While the discussion dies down, they are shortly announced to arrive back on the ice to continue the game with an equal score of 1:1 for both teams.
A new energy radiates and overtakes the rink, Sukuna’s body language is shifting and his eyes darkening. As soon as they began, someone had already shoved into him. In turn, Sukuna manages to subtly take him to the floor, avoiding a penalty since he cannot be pinned for the fault. Several of the opposing team are hounding him, hardly allowing him any free movement even when he isn’t in possession of the puck. It’s incredibly hard to play a game when you are boxed in, especially in a sport where movement plays a key factor in success. In a sudden outburst, Sukuna shifts his position and sends two people into the barrier. The referee intervenes and pulls them to the side, a possible penalty on Sukuna’s behalf. The chants increase in volume as the game picks up pace, yet you can hear the sound of Sukuna’s voice overpowering the chaos unfolding around him. He was furious, battling the violent thoughts plaguing his mind. If he wasn’t so strong-willed, he would’ve lost control of his hands and swung the hockey stick against the skulls of the pests who have been harassing him. Upon final decision, he was sent to the penalty box and was unable to participate in the last two minutes of the period.
No goals were scored as the game shifted to the second intermission; there were zero rational thoughts left inside Sukuna’s mind, he was a walking hazard. While he was exiting the rink, he swung his stick against the metal pole and snapped it in two, tossing the remains aside as he stormed past the rest of the team. Kenjaku informed the group that he would temporarily bench Sukuna since it would give him time to recollect and focus his attention back on the game—and he had no other option but to agree with this decision. Sweat was rolling down his face and the veins on his hands were threatening to burst; riling himself up like this is never a position he wishes to put himself in, especially in important scenarios such as this. When intermission finished, Sukuna had switched out with a member of the bench and sat there bouncing his leg, a new hockey stick by his side. You scoot to the end of the row and shout over to him, catching his attention by pure miracle. Though in a terrible state of mind, the sight of you had twisted his lips up into a subtle smile. He raises his hand to wave until he’s suddenly switched out, now making his way back to the ice. There was an opening and he didn’t hesitate to take it, he checked the puck away from the imbecile navigating it and was making his way swiftly to the goal. Rather than taking the shot, he passed the puck to Kashimo; their secret weapon. While they rushed to Sukuna, Kashimo had taken the opportunity to score the goal, adding a point to the team on the leaderboard. Sukuna grins widely as the other team realises they had been outsmarted, relishing in their failure.
Kenjaku stands up from his seat and claps his hands while the camera zooms in on him and splits screens between Kashimo and Sukuna. The final intermission had arrived with a score of 2:1; the last round would determine the winner, and at this rate, this would leave their team victorious. While they’re in the locker room, you send Sukuna a text. He won’t be able to read it until the game is finished, but you feel it’s only fair to let him know how proud of him you are. Watching him out there while understanding how hard he works is rewarding, especially when it goes in his favour—he puts his soul into this sport; no one could work harder than him. Sukuna is a legend in the making, a fire that will only burn brighter. You’ll be there throwing gasoline into the flames, making sure he doesn’t die out.
5:20 PM
2:1, the final score was announced and the stadium celebrated the victory of Sukuna’s team. It warmed your heart to see the wide variety of individuals supporting him; from children to elders, Sukuna was able to please all of his fans on this special day. Most importantly, he had pleased you. You watched as they placed a medal around his neck and cheered his name, holding your hands together in the shape of a heart. When the award ceremony had concluded, many fans were flocking out of the stadium, preparing to camp outside and say their farewells to the players. When the arena had cleared out, most players went straight through to the back. Sukuna strides over to you, dropping his helmet while you wrap your arms around him. He had lifted you off of your feet and squeezed you, almost crushing you with the sheer dumb strength he harbours. You gaze up at him and pout, an unspoken demand for a kiss. Who would he be to deny you? He pressed your back against the glass barrier and held you there until the sound of a voice behind caused him to break away, placing a final peck on your cheek before he turned to the source.
“You’re in public, you know?” Kenjaku points at his tongue, mimicking a gag as he picks his jacket up. “You need to behave, you had me on the ropes that entire game. Are you serious, Sukuna? I can’t keep—”
“We won, didn’t we?” Sukuna takes your hand into his, though there was no skin-to-skin contact you could still feel the heat he radiates.
“Don’t be arrogant, and don’t make a total fool out of yourself in the interview. I’ll be in the room, I’ll make sure I’m sitting right beside you to keep you in place.”
“I can’t believe you’re the same man who gets shitface drunk every weekend; I’ve babysat your kids and you still hound me.”
“I’m a man of many wonders—endless possibilities. Come on, this interview is about to start,” Kenjaku turns away to head through the back, then addresses you in his final words, “You can come too, they have seats behind the cameras.”
Sukuna waits until Kenjaku is out of sight before he pulls out the puck used for the match. He closes your hands over it and links your arm with his, dragging you towards the room where the interview will take place. Walking through the hallways filled with pictures of local legends is bone-chilling; perhaps Sukuna will be on one of these walls someday. When you reach the interview room, you take your seat and beam at him, proud to see him amongst his members with medals hanging from their necks.
8:30 PM
Left on the back wheel of the team, you had become burned out from their excessive amount of celebratory activities. Interviews, photographs, autograph signing, and the list goes on. You were forgotten about, struggling to remain patient for much longer; all you want to do is go back to the hotel room and sleep. Sukuna steps out of the locker in his casual attire, pushing you out the exit doors with him to the cab he booked. It was silent on the way home—in your case. You had dozed off while he muttered about the game, unintentionally exhausted from so much hockey. You don’t intend to be disrespectful, but when it’s the only thing you hear constantly for a month, your brain begins shutting down at the trigger word—hockey. You’re surprised you are able to escape it in your dreams; it’s a mosquito you cannot kill, nipping at you and draining your energy.
Thump. Your eyes flutter open as the mattress sways. Sukuna had carried you to the room and had fully prepared himself for the evening. His hair is still damp and his skin is clammy, your hand had intertwined with his the second you recognised his presence. It had been a long day for both of you—more so him, you were just the spectator. You scoot closer to him and place your chin on his shoulder, coming into contact with his eyes that possess a devilish glint.
“You tired? It must be so much work cheering me on.” His nail scratches under your chin, causing you to scrunch up from the sensation.
“It is, it’s a lot of work. Unpaid too.”
“How should I pay you?” It was a rhetorical question—he already had his answer, he just wanted to hear it from you.
“Some attention would be nice, we haven’t cuddled properly since last month. You always come home late and—” Before you can finish your complaint, he lifts you and places you on top of his chest. His hands rest on the small of your back, sliding under your sweatshirt.
“Poor you,” He coos, his fingers tracing lines down your skin the lower his hands venture, “You must feel so neglected.”
“I forgot what your touch feels like.” You mumble into his bare skin, the vibration of his raspy laugh causing you to stiffen up.
“Has it been that long? Or are you just that desperate?” His thumb toys with your lips, your breath fanning his hands while he waits for you to reply, “What one of the two is it?”
“Both. It’s been three weeks since we had sex, I started to believe you fell out of love with me. You wouldn’t even kiss me properly.”
“I couldn’t afford any distractions, you know that.”
“But it’s not fair, Sukuna. You can’t just kick me off to the side, I won’t distract you—I promise. It’s been horrible for me, I hate it when you have to play these big games.”
“Didn’t know it was that bad for you, I never meant to make you feel like shit. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Sukuna pushes you off of him and looms over you, unbuttoning your pants, “I’ll make it all better, you shouldn’t have negative thoughts in that pretty little head.”
“Should be me, I’d take it all from you if I could. You’ve been there for me through it all, my most loyal supporter. My number one girl.” He tugs your pants down, revealing your panties and the wet patch that had formed in them.
“You’re—”
“Turning you on? I can see that.” He pokes his finger on the patch and your legs clamp shut, tramping him in between them.
“—Making me flustered! Slow down—” You’re cut off when his lips graze your inner thigh, planting pecks down the strips of exposed flesh.
His teeth attach to the thin fabric and slide your panties down slowly, the heat from his breath interacting with your cold skin causing goosebumps to rise. When he drags them past your knees, he slings them off to the side and spreads your legs, keeping your most vulnerable region in view for his prying eyes. You’re there in his jersey, eyes unable to meet him and hands gripping the sheets—he had almost forgotten how pleasant this view could be. He lowers his head and his hair brushes against you, smearing some of the moisture it withheld from his shower. Rather than diving straight in, his index finger slips between your folds and coaxes your clit with slick. You were far too easy—getting this soaked when he had hardly even touched you. You must’ve been fantasising about this moment all day. While he could give you what you want, he decides to drag it out further, testing your limits. Your patience has already broken and the weak pressure he is applying to your clit isn’t enough to stimulate you, it’s just enough to make you aware of his presence.
“Are you grinding against my fingers? You’re so needy,” He cackles at your desperate attempts to receive satisfaction and pulls his fingers away, slipping them into his mouth and indulging in your taste, “You’ll wait until I’m ready.”
“Please don’t do this to me, it’s been so long—don’t you think I deserve it?”
“I do think you deserve it, which is exactly why I’ll give it to you in a way you won’t forget. You’ll get what you want if you are patient, can you do that for me?” His hands knead your thighs, and you nod in response, “Good.”
Dominance came naturally to Sukuna, in both his hobbies and his sex life. It’s what he knows best, and is certainly what he excels at. He makes you weak just by the touch of a few fingers, melting slowly as his buttery words raise you to the pedestal he sits you on. Held so highly in his life only to be belittled by his condescending words—humiliating you and taunting you for becoming so aroused. You find your gaze fixed on his heaving chest, eyes daring to lower and come in contact with his highly defined abs. Sukuna’s physique resembles a hand-carved statue, chiselled with all the fine details a true creative could only dream of. He lowers his face and stares up at you, his eyes fluttering gently making him appear innocent–you both know that’s not the case. Kisses are littered on your abdomen, and your body wriggles, silently begging for more. Your body was heating up and your stomach was in knots, anticipating the moment he finally made contact with your clit. Sensing the urgency, he drags his tongue between your folds, sending a shudder through your core. Since he started, he can’t turn back–he’s hooked on your taste, and he’s starved; a luxury he had forced himself to miss out on. He got lost quickly, but you had been far gone for much longer than he had. Your hands are tangled in his ashy, strawberry-coloured hair, fingers wrapping around strands doing their best to bring him closer. Sukuna’s tongue was toying with your clit, repeating the same circular motions. Wriggling due to the pleasure didn’t affect him, he had you locked in a position where you couldn’t move. Breathy moans fill the atmosphere as you near your climax, though your release is yet to be granted as he pulls away. Your slick is smeared across his lips, his cheeks possessing a hardly noticeable twinge of pink from his lack of oxygen intake.
“I’ve missed you, you know?” He wipes his face clean with his forearm and drags you into a longing kiss, his eyes flickering with adoration as he distances himself, “Do you think I stop thinking about you when we aren’t together?”
“I missed you more.” He pins your arms behind your head, a sultry smirk twisting his lips up. All you can do is gawk at how heavenly he looks; he’s an angel with the personality of a devil, a wolf in sheep's clothing.
“That’s impossible,” Using one hand to restrain you, his other ventures down to his boxers, stroking his dick through the fabric, “You have no idea how much you mean to me—I don’t think you fully understand the lengths I’d go for you.”
That’s the truth—you don’t know how far he’d go for you, and you’re unsure if you want to find out. His struggles with regulating his fury place him in treacherous territory; there is no doubt in your mind that he could take a life just by using his bare hands, there are times when even he is unaware of the extent his strength can reach. With his boxers now discarded, he lines his tip up with your entrance, teasing your hole while he prepares to thrust in. Though he is completely bare, your top half remains covered with his jersey. In a sudden snap of his hips, he forces his way in, your plush walls massaging the length of his dick. Allowing you time to adjust, he slowly inched his way deeper, being careful not to overstimulate you. All of his six and a half inches being consumed by you, taking him in nicely. Getting you wet is no struggle, and it certainly helps with the penetration; your body has adjusted to his girth and size, similar to a lock and key mechanism.
Thrust after thrust; sweat was pouring from Sukuna. The bed would creak at any given movement and the two of you were far from quiet, giving this floor of the hotel an insight into what you were doing. His groans would cause knots to tie in your stomach, your walls clenching around him only adding to the pleasure he receives. You are beautiful when you are sprawled out like this for him, muttering and whispering his name under your breath, assuming he wouldn’t hear it—but he heard everything. He heard how good you said it felt, he heard you chanting his name as though you were handing yourself over to him, he also heard those pleas for a release. It was nearing your breaking point, your climax had been toyed with, but now it is threatening to reach its peak.
“Tell me everything that’s been on your mind, let it all out.” Sukuna continues to wind his hips in those rugged motions, hitting sweet spots you weren’t aware existed. It took you a while to process his words, too fucked out to think straight.
“I hate how— How you distance yourself from me—” Your mouth hangs open while whines roll from your tongue, head lolling back and your eyes closing over, “And I hate how you never listen— You always— It’s always what you think is best.”
“And?”
“I wish that you’d just— That you’d—” You can’t fight your release and you cum, allowing yourself to come loose. Your breath hitches as he continues, chasing his own release.
“That I’d what?”
“I just want you to myself, ‘Kuna.” A tear slips from your eye as your overstimulation turns into a second orgasm; the presence of his lips on yours catches you off guard, resulting in you moaning in his mouth.
What once started strong becomes sloppy; his forehead is pushed against your shoulder while his groans become silent, the huffs of his breath now creating more sound. His core tightened as he pumped his cum deep inside you, your hands rubbing up and down his back while he lay down. All of the pent-up tension from his mind and body dissipated, replaced by the lust shared with you. His teeth nip at the skin on your neck, nuzzling his head further into the crook to latch on better. Your nails had etched their mark into his flesh, and his teeth had imprinted their shape into yours—a fair exchange.
“I am all yours. Every day during this break will be dedicated to you.”
“It’s the worst feeling knowing other women wish they were yours.” That’s the biggest con of having a boyfriend known in the media; it drives you insane seeing what others say about him online—especially when they find a way to criticise you for being the one he chose to settle for.
“None of them could ever compare to you; they’re spiteful. Who wouldn’t be? You’re a gorgeous young woman who is successful. They have to take their anger out on the people who are better than them. You have everything they will never obtain.” He squeezes your hand, intertwining your fingers; a symbol of remaining linked for eternity.
“I have you. I think I’ll keep you forever.” You plant a kiss on his forehead, watching the smile spread across his face; the shift in his tone was noticeable, his voice huskier than it was before.
“Who said that was a choice? You’re never leaving my side.”
295 notes · View notes
atlabeth · 1 day
Note
🧸 - i hope this piques your interest LOL but i'm deep in a benedict bridgerton mood waiting for s3 to air
could you do a fluffy slow burn blurb for him where reader completely takes him by surprise? up to your interpretation men are just always sexier when caught off guard and proven wrong 😁☝🏼
happy 3k again my love!!
twin flames
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
summary: you and benedict bond at an art exhibition. he only seems to be oblivious when it can embarrass him most.
a/n: thank you so much for the request!! it was literally the first one and it's taken me almost a month. lol. im so sorry. but i hope you enjoy!!!
wc: 1.1k
warning(s): all fluff
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“This is beautiful,” Benedict murmured, and he glanced at the man beside him. “Is this not one of the best pieces you’ve seen?” 
“I suppose it’s alright,” the man shrugged. 
“Just alright?” He frowned. “Are you feeling well, sir?” 
The man frowned as well as he moved onto the next painting, fully ignoring Benedict. He just shook his head and focused back on the painting, thinking aloud. 
“The use of color is just—” he shook his head again. “It’s incredible. The way the brushstrokes are used for depth and the unique way of shading… It all melds together so well, and yet I never would have thought to use any of it in that way.” 
“Is that true?” 
Benedict’s eyes flickered down to see you by his side, a pretty woman in a rather unassuming dress. He’d never seen you before at one of these exhibits, so you must have been new. He would have remembered a face such as yours. 
“Certainly,” he said, nodding with exuberance. “Art is meant to make you imagine, feel— when I look at this piece, I feel some sort of amazement. It captures the beauty of a starry night impeccably, but the technique gives it a completely fresh feel. It is as if I am looking up at the horizon on my own for the very first time again, amazed by the vastness of the world.” 
You smiled. “That is very kind of you to say, sir. You’ve quite an eye, sir—and certainly a way with words.” 
Benedict shrugged. “It is very simple with a piece such as this. I could wax poetic all day, Miss…” He trailed off, and his gaze fell back to you. “I apologize, my lady. You have me at a disadvantage.” 
That coy smile remained on your lips. “Miss Tilbury. And you are Benedict Bridgerton, yes?” 
He nodded, and he couldn’t help the slightly nervous laugh that came along with being in your presence. “I am embarrassed. You knew my name, but I didn’t know yours. You must forgive me.” 
“Oh, it is of no matter,” you said, brushing your hand through the air. “You already know more about me than most.” 
His eyebrows rose, and when his mouth opened, he found himself at a loss for words. It took a moment to compose himself—it was awfully difficult to think with those pretty eyes focusing so intently on him. 
“Pardon me for asking, but are you new to these exhibits?” 
Your eyebrows rose. “What makes you think that?” 
“I’ve not yet seen you around here,” he said. “And I am sure I would remember a face such as yours.”
“No,” you said, and your smile widened. “No, I frequent these sorts of exhibits. I’ve seen you before—I just must not have caught your eye.” 
“Oh, I think that impossible,” Benedict insisted. “Not only are you quite beautiful, my lady, you’ve also a sharp mind and a quick wit. Those are three things I can never ignore.” 
At that, you fully grinned, and he felt a smile of his own form. He’d only just met you and yet he felt this innate need to bring you joy. Perhaps it was a good thing you’d only just now met, for he could easily imagine thoughts of you consuming his every waking hour. 
“And you are quite the charmer, Mister Bridgerton,” you said. “Are you always this forward with women you just met?” 
“Only ones such as yourself,” he assured. “It is a delight to be able to discuss art with a twin flame.” 
“A twin flame?” 
“Someone who sees things the way I do,” Benedict said. “I tried to have a conversation about this piece with a man just before you, but he did not seem to understand it the way I did. You are refreshing, Miss Tilbury.” 
“Ah,” you said, and you nodded sagely. “Well, I may have just a bit more insight into this piece than that man did. I am the one who painted it, after all.” 
Benedict blinked. The words didn’t fully register in his mind. “What?” 
“I am the artist of this piece,” you said, gesturing at the painting they stood in front of. “I’m certainly flattered to know you enjoy it.” 
Benedict blinked again, and he felt heat spread across his whole face. He could not find any words in him for a strikingly long moment. 
“You can see my signature in the bottom right corner,” you continued. “My initials, of course. I paint under a pseudonym, for though those who run these exhibitions are more progressive than most, it can still be difficult as a woman to get our art displayed.” 
“I— I apologize, my lady,” Benedict finally managed to stammer. 
You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him. “For what?” 
“For not knowing your name,” he rushed, “and insinuating that you were a newcomer, and acting as if I know more about your own art than you do.” 
You laughed, and Benedict once again found himself smiling at it. It felt like fresh snowfall—you were indeed refreshing. 
“You need not apologize, Mister Bridgerton,” you assured. “I do not lie—it is indeed flattering to know you see my art in such a light. I have seen some of your own pieces, and you are talented.” 
“I do not always feel it,” he mumbled. “More often than not, I can only see the flaws in my work. You have a rare quality indeed, my lady—you are able to compliment yourself.” 
“I do not believe in the need for self-deprecation in the artistic world,” you mused. “I am proud of this piece, so why would I not compliment it? I already have enough men trying to scorn me each day—I see no reason to contribute to the fire with my own words.”  
“And there is no reason for you to!” Benedict exclaimed. “Miss Tilbury, you’ve a way with a brush that very few do—at least with what I’ve seen. I— I consider it an honor to even be standing in your presence, if I am honest. Have you any other works I can see?” 
You smiled. “I do, but none of them are available in a manner such as this. I hope to display more soon.” 
“As do I,” Benedict said, nodding rapidly. “Mayfair should consider itself lucky to be graced by such fine artistry.” 
“And I consider myself lucky to get compliments from a man such as yourself.” Your smile turned slightly coy. “I could offer you some tips, of course. Since you were such a fan of my artwork.” 
Benedict could only stare at you for a moment. He did not know whether your words held more or not, but he realized he was alright with either—or both, if he found himself lucky enough. 
“I would love to, Miss Tilbury.” 
“I see no need for formalities.” You said your first name, your eyes sparkling. “We are twin flames, after all. Yes?” 
Benedict’s throat bobbed, but he could not help his grin. “Yes.” 
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nightsmarish · 2 days
Text
Summary: James might actually like Slytherins.
Poly!Starchaser x Reader (James Potter x Reader x Regulus Black) | 1.2k words
TW: mentions of Sirius leaving, getting kicked out(?), honestly not a lot I think
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ
When James started Hogwarts, he had a certain distaste for Slytherins. Never an outright hate, unlike his best mate, Sirius. But something about the house always put a sour taste in his mouth. 
Maybe it was the stories Sirius shared of his family, or the way many of them seem to sneer at him, or maybe it was Severus Snape. He was never really sure. But, nevertheless, the Gryffindor seeker has always seemed to avoid Slytherins. 
Until James’ sixth year at Hogwarts. The previous year, Sirius had left Black Manor for good (but if you ask James, Sirius had left closer to third year, the incident in fifth year just made it official). 
All the Marauders know the story well, and all the boys know just as well how distressed Sirius was when Regulus didn’t take the chance to leave with him.
The refusal created a rift between the brothers—a big rift. Like the big crack in the earth muggles call grand that James never remembers the name of. And that rift lasted for the entirety of fifth year.
But the summer before their sixth year marked when Sirius couldn't take it anymore. So, the boys' sixth year marked when the Black brothers started mending their relationship.
And also when James became a pathetic mess for Regulus. Lily was the first to find out. Besides the boys, Lily was James' person. Once he finally got over the childhood crush he had on her, they became actual friends. 
Regulus is just so…. Regulus. He's pretty, first of all, like, so pretty. James isn’t very poetic, but he reckons one of the romance books Remus has read wouldn’t even begin to describe how beautiful Regulus is. From his well-kept, dark hair to his gray eyes, which at times reminds James of The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. The same painting his mother has fawned over to him and his father many times. The poetically tragic painting. 
And dear Merlin, he's so smart. James has shared very few classes with the boy, being one year apart makes it hard. But when they shared The Study of Ancient Runes, James became almost certain that he's attracted to people smarter than him, (which he realized greatly limited his dating pool because it can be a bit hard to find people smarter than him (save Remus, Lily, and now Regulus)). Don’t get the seeker started on how good Regulus is at quidditch, he could talk all day. 
Honestly, not much changed with this crush when James met you. You had been friends with Regulus (and Crouch and Rosier, but that was irrelevant to James); maybe a little more; he wasn’t sure at the time; the little friend group had always seemed suspiciously close sometimes. 
You. Oh Merlin, you. It made a lot of sense, at first glance, how you and Regulus got along. Both of you seem to be able to sit in silence, not needing a conversation every time you hang out, yet still having fun. But at the same time, James had seen you able to joke and have banter with Crouch and give half glares at Sirius when he was trying to borrow -steal- Regulus for a bit. 
And finally, after months of talking to (mildly annoying) you too, the lot of you finally started dating. Even though Sirius nearly had a heart attack when he found out, either way, James has found himself walking to the Slytherins table before his own more often, and has found himself ducking from Crouch throwing potatoes at him even more regularly. James has also found himself sneaking into the Slytherin common rooms when he isn’t planning a prank. Like right now. 
It's not exactly necessary to sneak into a common room. The way to get into most common rooms stays the same. Ravenclaws answer a riddle; Gryffindors have a password that changes semi-regularly; Hufflepuffs have changed a few times over the past few years, but right now you have to tap a barrel located in the kitchen space near the Hufflepuffs door. But, as it seems, the Slytherins seem to change more regularly. 
Rarely just a simple password nor a rhyme or riddle. Though James likely doesn’t deserve the right to be annoyed by the constant changing because the Marauders pranks are often the reason for a change. And it's not like the boys exactly need a password to get in. Not when you have learned almost all of the secret passageways through the castle and can sneak in through one of them. 
James finds a way down to the dungeons, with or without any password or trick, and makes his way to Regulus' dorm. When he gets there, he's presented with a loving, beautiful, and perfect view.
The dorm is free of Regulus’ dormmates, Crouch and Rosier, the only people who lay claim are you and Regulus. There you two lay, your head on his stomach, arms wrapped around his waist as your body lays between his legs, any closer and you'd be under his skin.
Regulus is lying back on his pillows, jumper far too red to belong to him. As one hand rests on the top of your head, the other lies abandoned. It’s clear both of you had been reading at some point; books lay abandoned nearby on the bed. 
James could scream, squeal even, but instead he silently closes the door and locks it (the only people that would really need it are people with a key (Crouch, Rosier) or people who don't believe in locks (Sirius, and honestly, probably also Crouch and Rosier)). 
James slips off his shoes near the bed, climbing onto the bed with the two of you.
“Love?” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face as he gently rubs your shoulder.
You shift, barely coherent, as you open your eyes the smallest amount to look at who woke you. They soften a tremendous amount when you register that James is in front of you. 
“Hi, baby,” Salazar, his smile is so bright, he could make the Black Lake change its name with just a curl of the lips. “Your arms are gonna cramp if you don't move.”
James slowly draws your arms from under your shared boyfriend for you, limp like a liquid cat in his arms, and he somehow finds it the most endearing thing in the wizarding world. 
The movement makes Regulus come to consciousness, opening his eyes much quicker than you did and already more alert than you. “Chéri?” 
“Hello, love.” James drags your liquid body to the side of Regulus, instead of on him, and kisses his boyfriend's temple. Freeing a hand to smooth out his hair and stop him from getting up. “Go back to your nap, just moving you guys a bit so neither of you hurt.”
You are quick to go back to wrapping your arms around Regulus, now in a slightly less straining position, ready to go back to dreaming. James' smile might just grow impossibly founder.
James goes to the other side of Regulus, leaving you to cling to his left as James takes his right. “'S ‘kay to go back to sleeping.” 
“I know.”
You reach one of your hands blindly and grab James’ arm, resting it there as the three of you drift back to a lovely sleep.
Maybe James has a taste for a type of Slytherin after all. 
178 notes · View notes
whowantslovergirl · 2 days
Text
Casual
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Paige Bueckers x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst, italics are flashbacks, no happy ending, loosely based on a true story 🤣, paige is SUPER clueless,suggestive but no smut so tht one part will not be in this story, cursing, again paige is kinda mean in this, NOT ASSUMING HER SEXUALITY THIS IS PURELY FOR THE STORY gonna make a new masterlist once there’s more stories 😫
Summary: Y/n knew what her and Paige had but she never wanted that and Paige just wanted this casual
posted: May 30,2024
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This has been going on for months. Ever since I hooked up with Paige we had this little thing going on. Then I did the one thing you shouldn’t, catch feelings. Technically it’s not my fault she shouldn’t be acting like a girlfriend, giving me gifts, taking me on surprise dates and even saying ‘I love you.’ I mean my friends call me a loser 'cause I'm still hanging around. Which is completely understandable it’s been like six months and she hasn’t asked me to be her girlfriend.
______
“Oh that’s Paige’s girl.”
“Yea Paige is dating that chick over there.”
“I heard they’re not even together yet.”
Every single day. I walk around campus and I hear the same thing. “That’s Paige’s girl.” Like my name is Y/n.
Then you heard someone say.
“Paige said she’s just fucking her nothing more nothing less.”
What the hell. I've heard so many rumors that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch but I never believed it was true. You texted Paige saying you’re coming over and she said okay see you soon.
______
“Why would you say shit like that?!” This always happens we always get into an argument about something she said or something I did. It’s like a routine.
“Well are we not just fucking Y/n?!” Paige yelled back. Then you started to tear up. “Well I- I thought you thought of me better, you know like someone you couldn't lose or something.”
She shook her head and took my hands in hers. “I don’t know what you wanna hear Y/n.”
"We're not together"
Well that hurt. “Yea I know Paige. It just hurts that you see me like that.”
“I don’t but- but I do love you. You know that right?” I nodded and leaned forward. “I love you too Paige.” She smiled and connected our lips.
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues.
_____
“Baby, no attachment”
Those three words make me madder than I ever been in my life. I should leave but to be honest I don’t want too. I mean I always had a crush on Paige and when something finally happened I never been so happy. But at the same time.
Is it casual now?
I remember when we just started messing around and in two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends
“So what’s going on with you and Y/n.” Azzi asked. They were always curious about your… relationship? So they always asked you or Paige what’s going on. Paige shrugged.
“It's casual.”
They didn’t say anything just nodded when they know damn well what Paige and Y/n have is not casual.
_____
Dumb love, I love being stupid.
Sometimes I like to dream of us in a year. You know maybe we'd have an apartment.
And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier.
I walked into our apartment and Paige is already coming up to me giving me hugs and kisses.
“Hey baby how was work?” You shook your head. “Stressful but you know it happens.”
_____
“Come on! They’ll love you I promise.” Paige was showing you off to her new team. “Y/n!”
“Y/n!” I see my friend waving her hand in my face.
Well shit.
______
Paige and I just finished doing our thing and I was putting my (her) shirt on. “Hey so do you wanna go on a date or something?” Paige asked me and I nodded. Usually we do casual dates so it wouldn’t hurt doing a serious one right?
“Do you wanna go to a restaurant or something.” I saw the panic in her face and she immediately shut that idea down.
“Baby, no attachment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t know going to a restaurant was being attached.” I got all my stuff and left before she could stay anything.
Who asks to go on date then talk about being attached? Fucking idiot.
Is it casual now?
______
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
You just started your ‘relationship’ with Paige Bueckers. Two weeks in and her mom is asking you to go on vacation.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends.
“And she just stormed off like a kid bro. Just because I didn’t wanna go to a restaurant.” Paige was telling Azzi about your recent argument. Azzi just looked at her. “What?” Paige asked.
“Well what did you say for her to storm off P?” She shrugged. “I told her she shouldn’t get attached.” She said looking down and mumbling. Azzi looked at her again. “How is wanting to go to a restaurant being attached?”
“She said the same thing! Look, it's casual going to a restaurant is what couples do and we are not a couple.”
“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be casual Paige.”
And that’s what scared her.
______
It's hard being casual
When my favorite bra lives in your dresser
I was getting ready to go out with some friends and was looking for the bra that makes my boobs look big then I remembered that it’s probably at Paige’s which is not good because we are currently not talking.
Whatever I need my bra back.
______
“What are you doing here?” Fuck why does she have to look so hot. “Don’t cream your pants I need my bra.” She just moves out of the way.
I got my bra and was trying to leave but Paige grabbed my arm. “So where are you going dressed like that?” Is she serious?
“I’m going out with friends.” She nodded. “I miss you Y/n.”
“Ok” and you left.
And it's hard being casual
______
“Im so tired of this shit Paige!”
You’re finally confronting Paige about this thing you have going on due to your friends hyping you up.
“Tell her you’re over this shit Y/n!”
“It’s been too long for her not to do shit.”
“Tired of what Y/n?!”
“You! This has been going on for months. Almost a year and you still think this is a casual thing?!”
“If it bothered you so much why didn’t you say anything?!”
“Because Paige I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space.”
Before she could say anything you cut her off.
“I try to be the chill girl but honestly, I'm not.” You started to tear up and she noticed but didn’t say or do anything.
“Well I didn’t want to lead you on-.”
“But you did Paige.”
“Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her Long Beach house and you don’t think that’s leading someone on.”
“And I know what you tell your friends. You probably told them it’s casual right?” She looked down avoiding all possible eye contact. “What we have is not casual Paige and you know that.”
“You knew what this was Y/n. And what we have is casual or so I thought!”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh please I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner and you told me you loved me. That’s not what casual is!”
She ran her hands over her face knowing you were right.
Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter
You’re at dinner with Paige’s parents and before you got here. We got into a huge argument about… honestly I don’t remember but I do know that it was her fault and I’m mad at her. You had been a little rude to her parents but they know you didn’t mean it.
After a while Paige pulled me to the bathroom obviously fed up.
“What the hell bro. I get you’re mad at me but don’t take it out on my parents.” You didn’t say anything and just went back to the table.
“I just want to say sorry for the way I acted today.” They assured you that it’s okay and they know you mean no harm.
Paige wondered why you were being so bitter.
But she didn’t do anything to fix it.
Bragging to your friends
“Yea we’re like doing this thing and like I’m so happy I did it!” Then Paige went on and on and on about you basically bragging. The team was obviously not going along with that, shutting it down immediately.
I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself
“Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell!!”
You pushed her out the door and slammed it in her face.
Note to self: never be in a ‘casual’ relationship.
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An: ENJOYYYYY MY LOVERS 🤍🤍🤍 but definitely making a wbb masterlist maybe emily engstlers next who knows…
162 notes · View notes
metalmonki · 2 days
Text
A Well Kept Secret Part 2
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
1.8k word count
Summary You and Spencer have been in a secret relationship for a year. When you unexpectedly become pregnant it becomes harder to keep that secret.
fluff
Warnings mention of cheating while drunk.
Part 1
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Six and a half months had crawled by since the life-altering night. Exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, your belly a growing testament to the little miracle nestled within. Today was the day you were finally going on leave, a bittersweet escape from the whirlwind of the BAU. No one knew the true story of the baby's father, a secret that gnawed at your conscience with every passing day.
Spencer had been a constant source of support, his gentle nature a balm to the storm brewing inside you. You'd even discussed godparents, a picture-perfect tableau of the BAU family surrounding your child.
"So how are you feeling?" Hotch asked as you lumbered into the office, the weight of the baby making every step a conscious effort.
"Fat and tired, but okay," You replied, managing a weak smile.
"How much longer will you be with us?" he inquired.
"Just here to pick up some things, then I'm heading home," You explained.
"Did you drive yourself?" he asked, a furrow appearing in his brow.
"No, Spencer dropped me off," You replied, your stomach clenching at the thought of the conversation that loomed.
"Well, get him to drive your home, then tell him he can have the day off too," Hotch said with a rare smile.
"Thanks, Hotch. See you when I get back, I guess," You shrugged.
Gathering your belongings felt like an eternity, each familiar object a reminder of the life you were leaving behind, at least temporarily. Stepping back out into the crisp morning air, you found Spencer waiting by the car.
"Ready to go home?" You asked, the words heavy on your tongue.
"Let's get you settled in, then I'll get back to work," he replied, his voice neutral.
The ride home was a tense symphony of silence. Every stolen glance at Spencer revealed a growing distance, a hurt you understood all too well. You kept your eyes glued to the ever-expanding landscape, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you.
Reaching the house, you managed to drag a box inside before collapsing onto the couch, the familiar ache in your back a dull throb. Spencer entered a few moments later, placing a bowl of popcorn and two drinks on the coffee table before settling the DVD player.
"What are you doing?" You finally managed, surprised by the sudden break in the tension.
"Well, if we both have the day off, why not spend it together before the baby comes?" he offered, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
Relief flooded you, warm and welcome. "Good idea," You whispered, scooting across the couch to lean against him.
"There's something I've been wanting to talk about," You began, your voice barely above a whisper.
"What is it?" he asked, his gaze holding yours.
"It's about the baby's father," You confessed, bracing yourself for the storm that might follow.
"I thought I was the father," he said, his voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty.
"You were," you stammered, "but there's something you need to know..."
The words caught in your throat, the memory a bitter pill to swallow. Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, "There was someone else."
"I don't know," you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "The night we were together, I...I had a little too much to drink, and then the next morning..." Your voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the memory a blur of self-loathing.
Spencer stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. The air crackled with unspoken accusations. "So, you're saying the baby could be Morgan's?"
"I don't know," you repeated, tears spilling down your cheeks now. "The timing just…lines up with that night. But you're the one I wanted, Spencer. You're the one I..." Your voice broke, unable to express the depth of your feelings or the regret that gnawed at you.
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. You both knew the implications. The life you'd envisioned, the little family you were building – it all hung precariously in the balance.
He stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. "We need to get this figured out."
Relief warred with fear in your chest. At least he wasn't walking out. "I thought maybe a paternity test…"
"Yeah," he snapped, his voice tight. "Let's do it."
The drive to the clinic was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. The sterile atmosphere of the clinic did little to ease your anxiety. Spencer held your hand silently as the nurse drew blood, his grip tight enough to leave white marks on your skin.
"How long will it take to get the results?" Spencer finally asked, breaking the tense silence.
The nurse glanced at a chart on the wall. "Typically, paternity tests take about a week to come back," she explained. "We'll call you as soon as we have them."
A week. Seven days stretched before you, an agonizing limbo. The weight of the unknown settled in your chest, a leaden companion. Looking at Spencer, you saw a similar worry etched on his face.
"What are we going to do until then?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.
He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance. "We wait," he said, his voice gruff but determined. "And we try to focus on the good news, no matter what the results are."
"The good news?" you echoed, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest.
He offered a strained smile. "That you're finally on maternity leave, and we have a little miracle on the way, one way or another."
The forced cheer in his voice couldn't quite mask the underlying tension. You both knew the good news could turn sour depending on the test results. But for now, you clung to that fragile hope, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty.
The following days were a blur. The house felt suffocating, the silence punctuated only by the tick of the clock. Every ring of the phone sent your heart racing, only to plummet when it wasn't the clinic. Spencer tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, even taking a rare day off work to keep you company.
One afternoon, while flipping through baby magazines, you stumbled upon a section on twins. Double the bottles, double the diapers, double the trouble. A nervous laugh escaped your lips. The possibility of twins, once a distant thought, now loomed large, a complication layered on top of the paternity question.
Looking up, you saw Spencer watching you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Thinking about double trouble?" he asked.
You managed a weak smile. "The doctor mentioned it as a possibility, didn't she?"
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Maybe that explains why you've been so exhausted lately."
His words brought a faint blush to your cheeks. The exhaustion was real, but so was the constant worry gnawing at you. You both knew the weight of the wait, the unspoken fear that hung heavy in the air. But for now, in the face of uncertainty, you clung to the possibility of a future, a future with a baby, or maybe even two, on the way.
You'd watch movies, fold tiny baby clothes, and talk about nursery paint colours, all the while a dark cloud of uncertainty hung over you.
One afternoon, while attempting to assemble a ridiculously complicated crib (courtesy of Rossi's overenthusiastic gift-giving), the phone rang. Spencer, closer to the receiver, snatched it up with a speed that belied his usual composure.
"Hello?" he answered, his voice tight. A beat of silence followed, then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yes, this is SSA Spencer Reid. Yes, I've been expecting your call."
Your breath hitched in your throat. The crib parts clattered to the floor as you scrambled to his side, your gaze locked on his face. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, before finally murmuring, "Thank you. We'll be there shortly."
He hung up the phone, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, they were a stormy gray, reflecting the turmoil within him. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that reached his eyes and banished the shadows.
"We need to get going," he said, his voice surprisingly calm.
"The results?" you stammered, your voice thick with anticipation.
He took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "The good news, the bad news, or both? We'll find out at the clinic."
The car ride was a tense dance of silence and stolen glances. Your mind raced with possibilities; each one tinged with a sliver of fear. Would the results confirm your worst nightmare, shattering the fragile hope you'd built? Or would they clear the air, allowing you to move forward with a future you could finally embrace?
Pulling into the familiar parking lot of the clinic, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Spencer squeezed your hand reassuringly, his silent support the only anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to engulf you.
You walked into the clinic hand-in-hand, a united front despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. The receptionist, recognizing you, offered a sympathetic smile. "Dr. Lee will see you now," she said, her voice gentle.
Following the nurse down a sterile hallway, you entered the doctor's office. Dr. Lee, a woman with kind eyes and a calming demeanour, greeted you warmly. "Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing towards two chairs in front of her desk.
You sat, the silence deafening. Dr. Lee placed a file on the desk and took a deep breath. "I'm happy to report that we have the results of your paternity test, Mr. Reid. Okay, so do you want the good news or the bad news first?" the doctor asked, a small smile playing on her lips.
"The good news," you squeaked out, your voice barely audible.
"Spencer's the father," the doctor announced with a warm smile.
A wave of relief washed over you, so intense it almost knocked you off your feet. Spencer, however, remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"And the bad news?" he finally inquired; his voice low.
"It's twins," the doctor replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Your jaw dropped. Twins? That would explain the constant exhaustion and the way your clothes seemed to be shrinking daily. Looking at Spencer, you saw a mixture of shock and a hint of amusement flicker across his face.
"Well, that explains a lot," you finally managed, a shaky laugh escaping your lips.
"Double trouble," the doctor chuckled, her eyes twinkling.
Spencer chuckled too; the sound rough around the edges. Then, in a gesture that surprised you, he reached out and took your hand in his. "You got that right," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "We can do this, together."
Leaving the clinic, hand in hand, the weight of the secret lifted. You were the happy (albeit slightly terrified) parents of twins, a future both daunting and exhilarating. There was still a lot to work through, the memory of Morgan a lingering shadow. But for now, the knowledge that Spencer was by your side, ready to face whatever came, was all the comfort you needed.
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