#absent from my first hour but as long as i was okay with that i could stay. and so i did and i was working on stuff. and then | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babybluebex · 9 months

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def write more best friends dad!cillian orrrr maybe you can dip ur toes into dads best friend!cillian??? i feel like that would be awesome!

here you go, lovelies, the long awaited dad's best friend!cillian! enjoy! warnings for smut (oral f!receiving, fingering), age gap (cillian is 46, reader is in her 20s)

The moment you surfaced from the water, you felt his gaze on you. You had known Mr. Murphy for years, for long enough for him to insist that you call him Uncle Cillian (although you didn’t, but you were never sure why), and his bright blue eyes were hard to miss, especially when they were fixated on you.You swiped the droplets of chlorinated water from your eyes as you looked around for him, dodging the various people that were in your backyard. It was a hot Saturday evening, and your parents were putting on a little summer party to celebrate you being home from college; of course, Mr. Murphy was invited, and you had briefly greeted him when he arrived a few hours before, before you got in the pool. But now, you felt him watching you, and you found him standing by the back door that led into your kitchen.

You watched as he averted his eyes, obviously having been caught looking, and he slipped inside your house quickly. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his hasty exit, and you swam to the edge of the pool, tugging yourself up and out. Your towel laid nearby, and you quickly dried off and wrapped it around your waist as you padded barefoot by your dad. “Don’t track water into the house,” he told you as you passed, and you absently nodded, still intent on following Mr. Murphy inside.

You found him all alone in the kitchen, standing with his back to the door, leaning against the island, sipping at his beer. He had his phone in his hand, scrolling too quickly to really be looking at anything on his screen, and you purposefully opened the fridge louder than usual to get him to look at you. “What’re you doing in here?” you asked playfully when he looked at you, his paralyzing blue eyes scanning your body, from your soaked hair to the almost-too-small white bikini top you wore. “Don’t you know the party’s out there?”

Mr. Murphy shrugged. “Got hot outside,” he said. “And I know where your dad keeps the good beer.”

You nodded, not really believing him, and you pulled out a can of soda and shut the fridge door with your hip. “Well, wearing sweaters and shit probably doesn’t help with the heat,” you said, reaching out for the corner of his navy cardigan. “You should’ve brought your swim trunks, you could’ve gotten in the pool with me.”

“Ah,” Mr. Murphy scoffed. “Nobody wants to see me parading around in my bathing suit. I’m too old and out of shape for that.”

“As if,” you said. “You look fine, don’t stress too much.”

“Thanks, love,” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Sorry, I’ve just… Ever since the divorce, I haven’t really felt like myself.”

Ah, right. The divorce. Your parents and The Murphys had been friends since they were your age— you had seen the scrapbook pictures of college-aged versions of your dad and Cillian getting up to no good— and you had to admit that you were always a little closer to Aunt Yvonne (not to say you didn’t like Mr. Murphy, because you did, but you always liked Aunt Yvonne more). When you were at college and your dad offhandedly mentioned on the phone one night that Yvonne and Cillian were separating, you had frowned. “Is Yvonne okay?” you asked. “What happened?”

“I’ve only talked to Cillian about it,” your dad had told you. “And he hasn’t said much. People just grow apart, I guess.”

You screwed up your mouth at the mention of the mysterious divorce, and you popped the tab of your soda. “That’s okay,” you told him. “You just need to find someone new.”

“Really?” Mr. Murphy asked. “A rebound? Is that how you deal with breakups?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “Whenever I get sad about my ex or whatever, I just go find someone else to focus on for a little while.”

“First of all, that’s not healthy,” Mr. Murphy chuckled. “Second… I don’t know, I was married for 20 years. I have two kids. I can’t just go find a girl at a bar and hook up with her and expect to get over it.”

“I don’t know, man,” you mumbled. “Just trying to help, I guess.”

“I appreciate that,” Mr. Murphy said. “You’ve always been a sweet girl.”

Oh. Oh no. You felt a stirring in your lower belly when he said that, one that made heat flood your bikini bottoms, and you shifted your weight on your feet as you nervously sipped your soda. You had to admit that Mr. Murphy, with his high cheekbones and greying hair and brilliant eyes, was quite attractive, exactly your type, and you had considered fucking him before, but, because of Aunt Yvonne, you had pushed down that desire and pretended it didn’t exist. It was just a fantasy about your dad’s best friend; that wasn’t that uncommon, was it?

“So,” he started before you could think anymore. “How’s college?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess,” you said. “Classes are okay, but exams are hard as hell.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mr. Murphy said softly. “Any boys catch your eye?”

“Honestly, not really,” you said. “They’re all kind of… Eh, I guess. I don’t like any of them the way I—” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence, the way I like you, and you stammered, “I-I should.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Mr. Murphy asked. “I mean, I know college boys can be dumb, but what’s wrong?”

“They’re just not mature enough,” you said softly. You set down your drink and wrapped your arms around your middle, and you added, “I don’t want to worry that my boyfriend will do some stupid shit on a night out. And they just, umm, don’t do things the way I want them to.”

Mr. Murphy wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, also setting down his drink, and he leaned his hip against the kitchen island. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well…” you started. “Boys my age don’t, like… Whenever I’ve hooked up with a guy, I’ve always asked him to do certain stuff, and he never does. At least not well.”

“Wait,” Mr. Murphy said. “Are you telling me that the boys you go out with don’t go down on you?”

Your skin prickled at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth, and you eyed him suspiciously before you cleared your throat. “Um, not really,” you said. “Like, they do it, but never well.”

“Oh, darling,” Mr. Murphy sighed. “You need to find a really good guy that’ll do that. And he’ll treat you like the princess that you are; don’t ever let a man do anything less.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Thanks, Mr. Murphy,” you said softly.

He smiled softly, tilting his chin down to look at you, and he said, “Now, how many times have I told you to call me Cillian?”

Your heart skipped in your chest, and you mumbled, “A-A few.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Cillian said. “Why not? You called my wife Yvonne, why not me by my name?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I never felt like I was close enough to you to really… Deserve to call you that.”

Cillian took a step towards you, then hesitated, then reached out for you. You expected him to grab your hands or touch your shoulders, but his fingers tucked in the towel around your waist. He waited for a moment before he slowly unraveled it from your body, and his eyes hungrily took in the sight of your legs. “Wow,” he whispered. “I knew that you would be so beautiful…”

“Cillian?” you said gently, nervously looking over your shoulder to the outside door, where everybody else was still outside. “Wh-What if someone sees?”

“Sees what?” Cillian asked. He set your towel on the counter, taking a step closer to you. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Yeah, but…” you started. “But—”

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask,” Cillian told you. “But ask nicely.”

You swallowed thickly. “I-I don’t even know what I want,” you told him. “I’ve thought about this, sure, but…”

“Do you want me to go down on you?” Cillian asked. “Just say the magic word, love.”

You blinked, fluttering your eyelashes at him, and you softly said, “Please?”

Cillian’s face softened, and he took your hips in his grasp, pulling you close to him. He gently moved you to the counter and helped you jump up on it, and he buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath as his fingers danced at the ties on your bikini bottom. “Sweet girl,” he whispered. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Umm…” you started, and your breath caught in your throat when he deftly undid your ties, pulling your wet bottoms from your skin. “A long time.”

“Yeah?” Cillian breathed, and he carefully moved down to kneel on the ground in front of you, his face level with your pussy. You felt almost shy as he looked at you, and you wiggled on the countertop as his dull fingernails pressed into the flesh of your thigh. “And how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

“A few weeks,” you told him. “I haven’t since I moved back home.”

“Oh, you’re dying for it, aren’t you?” Cillian cooed softly. “Your little vibrator isn’t enough, right?”

“No,” you breathed. Cillian leaned forward and littered soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, coming close to where you wanted him but never landing exactly there. He was teasing you, the bastard. Your hand left the counter and curled in his salt and pepper hair, urging him closer to your pussy, and he smiled, looking up at you with those brilliant eyes. You felt shocked, like his gaze was electric, and Cillian sighed heavily, focusing back down between your legs.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across your core. “My sweet girl…” Then, before he could say more, he pressed forward, touching his lips to your pussy. You jolted in surprise, letting out a quick laugh to try to ease your nerves, and he chuckled lightly. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just… Nervous.”

“Why’re you nervous?” Cillian asked, smoothing his hands up your legs to rest on your back.

“If someone catches us—” you started, and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

“They won’t,” he told you.

“But if they do?” you countered.

“But they won’t,” Cillian said firmly. “Ease up, love, just enjoy this. Let me take care of you.”

“O-Okay,” you said softly. Your fingers rested against the back of his head as he continued to kiss all over you, and he finally put his mouth right where you wanted him to, almost like you had led him there. His tongue darted out to taste you, playing gently with your soft clit, and you closed your eyes blissfully, letting the wet warmth of his mouth overtake you. “Fuck, Cill…”

“That’s it,” Cillian whispered, and his lips captured your clit, sucking on it for a brief moment, just long enough for you to moan softly, and he broke away. His tongue ran a thick line up your wet cunt, tasting you from throbbing hole to quivering clit, and he went back to your hole, teasing you with the tip of his tongue.

You clenched your teeth to keep from being too loud, and you watched Cillian eat your pussy like he was starving for it, lapping up your wetness and sucking eagerly at every inch of flesh that he could get his mouth on. He held you tightly, yet tenderly, wanting all of you that you would give him, and the warmth of an orgasm began to build in your belly. God, that was quick, but you suppose that Cillian had years of experience. He knew what he was doing, far better than any kid from your sociology class could do. “Cill,” you whispered, and he looked at you through his eyelashes, shocking your system again. “Fuck!”

“What is it, baby?” he asked softly. His fingers itched to your pussy, lighting trailing up and down your slit, and you whined as you felt an intense and sudden need.

“Want you,” you mumbled.

“What do you want?” Cillian asked.

“Anything,” you panted, jolting your hips again at his light teasing. “Everything.”

“Unless you have a condom,” Cillian started with a laugh. “I’m not having proper sex with you. I’ll do this and finger you and everything else, but…”

“Why not?” you asked. “Are you worried that I…?”

“No, I’m not worried about that,” Cillian said. “I know you don’t have anything, it’s not that. I just… I don’t want there to even be a chance that you could… That we could…”

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking down at him through half-open lids.

“I don’t wanna knock you up,” Cillian said quickly, as if saying it quickly would lessen its impact. “And I’m not going to fuck you if I don’t have a condom, because, once I get inside you, I know I won’t be able to control myself from cumming inside you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “It’s not a… An Irish Catholic thing?”

That made Cillian laugh. “You know, just because ‘Irish Catholic’ is a thing doesn’t mean that all Irish people are Catholics—”

“No, no, I know,” you said quickly. “Sorry, just checking.”

Cillian smiled softly, laughing gently at you, and his fingers gently touched your hole, waiting for you to do something in response. You sighed, flexing your hips down to urge his fingers inside you, and he did as you requested, pressing his middle finger past your flesh and inside you. You gasped at the feeling, loving him so deep, and you mumbled, “Cill…”

“I know, love,” Cillian said, placing a soft kiss to your clit. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” you whimpered. Cillian began to slowly thrust his finger inside you, moving gently as he sucked lightly on your clit, and you gasped quickly. “Cill! Oh my God!”

“That’s it, lovely,” Cillian said. He pushed his second finger in, pausing to let you adjust to the feeling of it, and then he started up a relentless pace, fucking you quickly on his fingers as his mouth and tongue explored your pussy. “God, you’re so tight, s’good…”

The heat inside you was becoming too much, tingling even down in your toes as it grew in your belly, and you whimpered and let out a cracked moan as his fingers hooked up inside you, brushing that sensitive nerve. “Cill!” you yelped, your hand flying down to grab at his wrist, as if that would stop his quick fucking. “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mhm,” Cillian hummed, burying his face fully into you. “Let it out, baby.”

You whined high in your throat, everything becoming all too overwhelming, and your legs shook as the heat burst in your belly. Your head fell back as you moaned, maybe a little too loud, and Cillian fucked you through it, whispering out “Yes, love, you’re so good, you’re such a good girl for me.” You tugged on his hair as your orgasm crashed through you, trying to keep him right where he was but also pull him away all at the same time, and Cillian smiled into your pussy, letting his tongue linger a bit at your throbbing hole. “Now,” he started softly. “Was that better than what you’re used to?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. You looked down at him, still kneeling on the floor, and you brushed back his hair out of his eyes gently before he started to stand up. “Thanks.”

“Of course, love,” Cillian said. He grimaced a bit as he stood, mumbling out something about that damn knee, and he added, “When’re you going back to university?”

“Not for a few months,” you said. “It’s summer break.”

“That’s nice,” Cillian said. “Well, erm… I’d like to see you again.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled. You slid off of the counter and retrieved your bottoms, and you did the ties back up as you tried to stand on your shaking and weak legs. Jesus, he really did a number on you. “When?”

Cillian took his drink back into his hand and sipped at it for a moment, thinking hard. “Well,” he began. “Whenever you’re free. I’m at your mercy, love.”

“Right,” you said, laughing softly. “I’ll let you know.”

At that moment, the door to the backyard creaked open, and your heart stopped as your dad came into the kitchen. “There you two are,” he said. “I thought you were still outside.”

“No, I cornered her to ask about school,” Cillian chuckled, and he looked at you. “Remember what I said: school first, parties later. Right?” He winked at you, and you huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Whatever you say, Cillian.”

#bex answers #anon ask #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy rpf #dad's best friend!cillian

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

Text

Off Limits

✶ One shot - is a part 2 to untouchable but can be read as a stand alone

Pairing | Eddie x his best friends little sister

Post summary | You’ve been in love with Eddie since you can remember. When he refused to see you as anything except for his best friends, untouchable, innocent, little sister, you worked out a way to get him to look at you differently, now you deal with the fall out of it.

What to expect | Established friendship, mutual pining, jealous Eddie & reader, lots of tension - no use of y/n

Post Warnings | Drug mention, F oral, Fingering, voyeurism, public sex acts, slight choking - let me know if I missed any

Word count | 6 K

Pt 1 | Pt 3 |

Authors Note | Okay first of all - Tumblr was being a B and wouldn't let me post, so I had to refresh and lost all of the tagging I did (which took me for effing ever) I'm posting this and I'll tag everyone once I've had a goddamn ciggerate. Anyways, I wrote a long ass part 2 and then decided I wanted to halve it and make a part 3 because I have an unhealthy obsession with ending things on a cliff hanger (sorta) but it's written and proof read and will be posted 24 hours after this. I hope this lived up to everyones expectations

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

I jumped at every sound that drifted down the entry hall, flipping through an open novel spread across the kitchen counter that I wasn’t paying attention to, as I re read the same paragraph for the fifth time. My nerves spiked and my fingers gripped the next page, in danger of ripping it from the spine of the book as the front door smacked open and my brothers voice rang out.

I hadn’t seen or heard from Eddie since what happened under his Hellfire table. He’d ushered his club out as soon as the campaign ended, providing me with a quick escape as I fled from the room and didn’t look back. I’d worried about what to say – or not to say – the next time he turned up with Trevor, but I shouldn’t have bothered panicking about it because Eddie had been ominously absent without an excuse.

I couldn’t very well go and ask my brother about it, his response making me choke up before I could even figure out the words, and I didn’t want to give myself away as the reason why Eddie might be avoiding me – and by extension Trevor. But tonight was movie night, and if Eddie missed this without a good enough reason – like a broken leg or death – Trevor would get suspicious.

I definitely had not changed my outfit three times and spent an hour on my makeup just in case Eddie turned up for tonight.

A shiver shot down my spine as I leant further over the counter, burying my head further into the book as I fidget, trying hard to look relaxed and unbothered as footsteps filled the empty hallway.

I couldn’t help my glance up as an unfamiliar footfall slapped against the linoleum.

“Umm… Hi?”

“Hey” The tall blonde smirked at me, helping herself to a drink from the fridge as her short mini skirt rode up her thighs. My stomach sunk as I watched her prance around the island bench, leaning on it as she popped open the soda can and glared at me over the lip of it.

“Who are you?” I hissed, slamming my book shut as I straightened up.

“Laura.” Her eyes flashed in surprise at my animosity and her smile was sickly sweet as she took a loud slurp, leaving makeup stains on the can.

“Right… and you’re here why?” I was afraid of the answer.

“Movie night.” She grinned and tossed her hair back as my face dropped, my lunch threatening to make a reappearance.

“Or a movie date, whatever you want to call it, we met at the Hideout.” At that moment she glanced towards the hallway, and I spun around to face what my anger was internally screaming at.

Eddie was hovering in the darkened entry space, turned towards the living room but facing to where I stood shaking in fury next to the stranger dressed like a whore in my kitchen. His brows knotted as he spared her a glance and his hand moved to rub at his jaw as his gaze reluctantly moved to mine.

I didn’t know what I expected, something along the lines of how he’d looked at me between his legs in front of his throne, or if he wanted to pretend it didn’t happen then maybe how he’d always looked at me, like a kid sister. The dark resolute of disinterest bordering on anger was not what I thought I was going to find when his glowering stare met mine.

Trevor chose that moment to burst through the doorway, shoving past Eddie as he came to stand around the bench. He slowed and rested his fist on the countertop as the thick tension hit him, his eyes flickering between our faces.

“You ready babe?” I spun around as he slid his arm around Laura’s waist, accepting her kiss eagerly as he scowled at me over her shoulder, not knowing what caused the awkward atmosphere but blaming me for it anyway.

“Wait she’s here for you?” My voice came out in an unplanned shocked screech.

“Obviously, who else?” He stared at me like he wouldn’t expect me to consider Eddie as a possibility. I tried to not be noticeable as I dropped my eyes from them and turned back to face him but he’d disappeared from the door frame.

“You joining us?” The microwave door creaked as Trevor slid a bowl of unpopped corn kernels into it.

“Uh yeah.” The whole situation had caught me off guard, and I’d answered without thinking.

I hesitated in the kitchen as my brother and what appeared to be his new girlfriend, giggled and groped at each other as the occasional pop echoed off the cabinets, I groaned and grabbed my water bottle as they started making out without shame, heading for the living room filled with the blue glow from the tv set that was geared up and ready to play Trevor’s horror movie choice of the night.

I waited for him to acknowledge me, but his eyes were glued to the paused screen, leaning his head into his arm perched on the side of the couch. I briefly considered taking up residence in the uncomfortable chair directly next to the tv and facing away from it, but that would look more suspicious to Trevor than sitting next to Eddie on the couch we always shared.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gripped the bottle tighter to my chest, unsure where we stood after what happened between us. His eyes flashed to my face, softening as they moved behind me to see that I was alone.

“Hey you.” He allowed me half a smug smirk as I took a probing step forward, returning his smile with a careful one as my heart unclenched a little.

“Haven’t seen you for a bit.” I walked past his spread knees as I plopped onto the furthest end of the couch, trying to keep my eyes on his and not how tight his pants were around his hips as he stretched and tugged his jeans down an inch.

“Yeah, had some stuff to sort out.” He titled his head towards me as his stare burned into me, and even in the cold space between us, the night time sky seeping in through the open window casting long shadows over us, I could feel the suffocating zaps of electricity that flared between us.

It was strong enough to steal my breath away, too strong for me to have imagined it, and from the way Eddie’s eyes darkened as his eyes fell to my lips, he had to be feeling it to.

I opened my mouth to say something when the entry hall light flicked off and Trevor strutted into the room, bringing the strong smell of butter with him.

“Bunch up man.” He nodded at Eddie as he gestured for Laura to take a seat, handing her the bowl as he went to go grab the tv remote.

I heard Eddie’s low sigh as he balled up his hands and used them to push into the couch, propelling him towards my end as I shuffled up against the very edge of it. The room blackened completely as the screen went dark, the quiet static creeping through the speakers.

Fuck

In the darkness the tingling tension between us hiked up a hundred times more, almost palpable in the air. My breathing stopped, and from the way Eddie froze beside me as he went rigid from trying to keep the non-existent space between us, so had he.

The couch groaned under Trevor’s weight as he folded himself onto the opposite end of it, slinging an arm over Laura and pulling her into his side from where she was wedged between him and Eddie.

The screen lighted up, the words ‘based on a true story’ spread across it as it faded back into blackness and a scene of a happy couple making out at a lookout, took its place.

“Thought this was supposed to be a horror, not a romance Trevor.” Eddie hissed, digging his hand into his knee as he picked at the loose threads and grimaced at the display of affection in front of us.

“It is, dude.” Trevor glanced over the mound of blonde hair to shoot Eddie a concerned look. I burrowed down into the cushions away from Eddie, crossing my arms across my chest as I tried to melt away.

Any other night if I was sat in front of an R-rated movie, I’d be jumping and letting out little squeals the same as Laura. But I was too focused on snatching my hand back when it reached out to brush against Eddie’s thigh like it had a mind of its own, barely catching myself in time. I was literally having to remind myself to breath as every little shift that brought our bodies together, sent a flash of heat from wherever our skin touched.

He was driving me insane, but most infuriatingly of all was how unbothered Eddie seemed. Even though it felt like he was going to strenuous lengths to avoid touching me as much as possible, he was slouched in a relaxed position with his head leaning against the back of the couch, his hands resting in loose fists along the curve of his lap.

I swallowed hard as his lashes lowered against his cheeks, his breath fluttering from his parted lips as the mixed colours of gore from the tv, reflected off his sharp features prettily.

I’d turned my head too far and he noticed me, I dropped my gaze just as Eddie’s eyes slid to mine, watching my cheeks blaze in indignation at being caught. I felt his stare burning heat into me like an actual physical touch and I couldn’t help myself, I glanced back up shyly to find his almost black eyes focused entirely on me now.

The upturned corner of his lips twitched as a tight coil constricted around my chest, making it impossible to breath as his eyes trapped me. I caught my lip between my teeth as Eddie leant across my lap, his fingers brushed my knees as he swiped up the bundle of blankets at the corner of the couch.

“It’s cold.” He didn’t give the others a choice as he tossed a blanket into Trevor’s face, turning his back on him as he tucked the fleecy material into the contours of my body. I stayed as still as stone as Eddie draped it over my shoulders, his warm breath tickled my neck as he bent close to whisper in my ear.

“If you bite your fucking lip one more time, I’m going to do it for you.”

Fuck

I was lucky it was dark because my face was on fire, my breath blew past my lips in a shudder as Eddie sunk back against the pillows. A satisfied scoff vibrated through his chest as he lightly hung the rest of the blanket over his lap, his arms disappearing beneath it.

Spurts of red danced across the screen as the movie reached the point of the killer going on a spree, his victims screams bounced off the walls and drowned out my gasp as Eddie’s fingers brushed against my thigh.

His light touch traced across the fabric of my skirt, quickly moving down the side of my naked leg as my breath tumbled out in gasps. The thin blanket bunched up in my lap as I twisted it in my hands, gulping as Eddie’s fingers tips crawled over the top of my thighs, making his way to the blazing heat between them.

Eddie kept his eyes on the screen as he bantered back with Trevor over the low budget gore effects, squeezing my inner thigh until I relaxed and spread them apart for him.

I didn’t know what was in the air between us that made even the slightest touch feel like a lightning strike. But my body betrayed me as it became alert to every delicate brush of Eddie’s fingers, every inch that brought him closer to my drenched panties made me tremble against him.

I buried my groan by biting into my fist but he wasn’t so subtle. Eddie’s head fell back against his shoulders and let out a sigh through clenched teeth as his fingers slipped between my folds, flicking up and down through my slick as I anchored myself to the couch, holding on for dear life as his finger tip moved over my swollen bud, rubbing constant circles until my legs were shaking so hard the pillows beneath us started moving.

I whimpered as Eddie’s hand curved, pressing his first long finger inside of me, the intrusion burned slightly as he stretched me out before drifting off into a new sense of pleasure. I’d played with myself before, too many nights to remember where I pretended my smaller fingers were Eddie’s long ones, covered in bulky rings as they slammed into me.

But out of all the times I’d imagined this, I didn’t expect to have to have to swallow my cries because Eddie was secretly touching me in front of other people. Eddie laughed loudly to cover my moan as he slid a second finger deep into me, leaning forward over his lap to block me from view as I grabbed his wrists above the blanket, using him to keep me steady as the feeling of his hand threaten to send me over the edge.

“You’re actually enjoying the movie?” Laura scoffed, glaring at Eddie as I tried to blink through my tears of pleasure.

“Uh yeah, I actually really like what I’m watching.” He smirked, covering his mouth with his free hand as he glanced over at me through his thick lashes.

My head snapped back as I couldn’t stop the shudder and soft whimper that fled me as Eddie pushed up against a sensitive soft spot deep in my pussy. I squeezed my eyes and shook my head as Trevor asked me if the movie was too scary, not trusting myself to speak.

There was a roar of a chainsaw and Laura shrieked.

“Oh my god stop stop stop.” I scrambled as Eddie ripped his hand from between my legs, rubbing his jaw with the fingers still drenched in my essence as he glanced at my brother reaching for the remote. I used the distraction to shimmy my skirt back down my thighs, pinching the fabric of my panties to cover my slit again after Eddie had shoved it out of the way for himself.

He turned his head to look at me with alight eyes as my chest heaved and I sat up straighter, breathing deeply as I tore the blanket off my lap and let it fall to our feet, wanting to hide the evidence. Eddie grunted and curled over like he’d been punched in the gut as he glared at me, his hand pressed against his crotch.

I narrowed my eyes back confusingly at him before he huffed and his hands quickly dipped beneath his pant line, readjusting his hard on before the others noticed it straining against his jeans.

“I cannot believe you thought a double date watching a gross horror movie was a good idea.” Trevor’s face flared in anger as we all snapped our necks towards Laura and the boys almost yelled over each other.

“This is not a fucking double date –“

“-God no, she’s just Trevor’s sister.” Eddie shook his head with a look of – what I could only describe as disgust – clouding his face.

Just Trevor’s sister

The rush of air that was knocked from my chest was quiet, but he heard it. Eddie’s face was cold and devoid of any emotion, hiding whatever thoughts burned behind those pretty dark eyes as hurt flared in my face. That hurt quickly spiralled in anger as Trevor laughed like Laura had told the funniest joke in existence and she glanced between us in confusion.

I was only ever going to be the little sister. Nothing more, nothing less. Never my own person. The cold gut wrenching feeling of being used washed over me as everyone’s eyes settled on me.

Eddie had been right. He knew what guys wanted, what all guys wanted.

What he wanted.

My pathetically pining heart that had chased him for the last decade, cracked as I struggled with the realisation.

It didn’t matter how much I tried to fight and prove myself against the ‘innocent’ label they’d branded me with, because Eddie wasn’t going to feel anything genuine for me, he was just going to treat me like his little play thing.

I was such a fucking idiot

That knowledge made the corner of my vision turn red as my nails bit into my palms, the words falling from me without fear or hesitation.

“You know what Laura? I completely agree with you, it is a stupid idea. And I’m really glad that the guy that asked me to go out this weekend, doesn’t think I’d enjoy watching a horror movie under a blanket for a first date.” I spat the words at the shocked face of my brother and the stone cold, barely concealed simmering rage of Eddie’s. His eyes followed me as I launched myself from the couch, kicking his feet out of the way as I sped from the room before my building tears could fall.

The cold press wasn’t helping to dim the puffiness around both of my eyes, I slammed the wet cloth against the sink as I sighed and leant over it, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. My scream mutilated in my throat as I clutched my chest and spun around, cowering against the vanity as the pair of reflective eyes that scared me, emerged from the darkness.

Eddie hovered in the doorway with a grim expression, anger tightening the corner of his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’ve been crying.” His voice didn’t reveal anything as he pointed out the obvious.

“Clearly, genius.” I swallowed as my eyes roamed over his bare chest, flitting away as he shifted and his plaid pyjama pants dipped lower against his v-line.

“What’s wrong?” His jaw clenched as he stumbled over the question, his eyes flaring with the answer he knew was coming.

“Why would you bother asking me that? I’m just Trevor’s little, innocent, stupid sister.” For the first time real anger flowed between us, pure undiluted rage as I stood my ground, copying his stance as I cocked a brow at him, daring him to deny the truth.

“Untouchable. Remember?” My hushed yell was still far too loud in the quiet house, cutting through the darkness as something burned in Eddie’s eyes and tears threatened to make a reappearance in mine.

“I never said you were stupid.” His face blazed with his own anger now as he took a few steps towards me. I backed into the few inches of space I still had behind me, needing to stay away from him to keep my head clear.

Eddie muttered my name as my eyes closed on their own, squeezing shut tighter and his rough, cold hands cradled my face.

“Open your eyes.” He demanded, pressing his hold on me as I shook my head. They flew open in shock and widened as Eddie’s chest pressed against mine, feeling it expand as he sucked in a deep breath and tilted his face towards me.

He was so close it was hard to look up at him, his lips moved closer to me as he whispered his question, the words vibrating through both of our bodies as he pressed me to him.

“What do you want?” It was barely a sigh, sending my mind blank as the minty smell of him washed over me. Eddie’s lashes brushed his cheeks as they focused on my quivering lips, patiently waiting for an answer that I couldn’t comprehend.

I caved

I couldn’t resist him

Even if he only wanted what every guy wanted

“You.” I didn’t say it, I just mouthed the word because Eddie’s dark stare had stolen the power of speech from me.

“Say it again. Louder.” His jaw flexed as our shaky breaths mingled, our lips moving closer together as his loose hair brushed past my collar bones. He paused, just as his bottom lip caressed mine and my knees gave out.

Eddie’s arm slid around my waist to keep me upright and the corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to force his smirk away.

“Say it.”

“You.” Eddie’s lips encased mine.

His heat flooded through me as they moved in a way that I’d only ever read about in my romance novels. They were softer than his hair looked, firm but they moved perfectly in sync with mine. God, the taste of him was more than I could have imagined, somehow a perfect mix of his cologne and weed and cigarettes and our peppermint mouthwash.

He was everywhere, his hands touching each bare patch of skin that I needed him to as I gave in completely, twisting my hands in his hair to pull him closer to me as I revelled in finally having our first kiss, never wanting to feel the cold air between our lips again.

Eddie groaned in response to my own one that tumbled from my lips, gripping the fabric of my shorts at my hip until I was afraid he was going to tear it away, his free hand trapped the side of my face, tilting my head up so he could attack my neck.

Each gentle bite followed by a kiss elected a desperate moan from me, flowing faster from me before I could stop them, almost like Eddie was chasing after them and finding pleasure in each sound he forced from me. My head rested back against the mirror with a sigh as his lips traced across my collar bone, teasing at the base of my neck as his hand brushed past the side of my breast, seeming almost like an accident until I spotted the smirk on Eddie’s face.

His hand tightened behind my ear and the nape of my neck as our eyes met, Eddie rose to his full height as an electric bolt shot through me from where our bare skin touched, straight to between my legs.

A tremor of cold reality washed over as his hand moved to trace the outline of my lips and I remembered where his fingers had been only a couple of hours ago. His face dropped as I gasped and lightly shoved at his shoulders, slipping out of his grip as I pulled up the strap of my shirt that Eddie had sneakily slipped off my shoulder.

“Don’t do this. Please, if you don’t care about me, don’t act like you do. I’m not some whore you can have when you want.” I couldn’t hold his stare as my breath quivered from me, sounding embarrassingly like I was going to cry as Eddie gripped the sides of the vanity beside me and leaned over it, forcing me to bow back against it and look up at him.

His jaw was clenched and his eyes flashed dangerously, Eddie ran his tongue along his bottom lip as his stare flicked between mine, trying to read something in them as his brows creased angrily.

“You have no idea how much I fucking care about you.”

I refused to believe him

“Like a sister.” I mumbled.

Heat flashed up my arm as Eddie wrenched it away from his chest, pressing my fingers against his hard length hidden beneath his pants. I glanced up at him as he let out a hollow sigh, smiling without humour as he shook his head.

“I haven’t stopped being hard since you decided to hide under that fucking table. I haven’t been able to stop thinking you. You have no idea-.” Eddie tilted his forehead until it was pressing against mine, letting his eyes fall shut as he loosened his grip around my wrist.

I kept my hand pressed against him, my cheeks blushing as I waited.

“-what you do to me. Fucks sake you pretty, silly girl. I tried to stay away because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. Look what happened tonight, I thought I could handle seeing you but I fucking can’tstay away from you. I love Trevor like a brother, and because of that, you’re off limits.” Eddie dropped his grip completely and took a step back, shaking his head to clear it as he stared up at the ceiling, clenching his fists together before he yanked them through his hair roughly.

Eddie glanced back down at me with a sad smile as I froze, soaking up every syllable.

“Like a sister.” He mocked me. “You’ve got no idea how hard it is not to corrupt you. I was able to stay away from you for ten years, but you just had to prove how bad you actually are didn’t you?” Eddie shook his head again, his hand squeezing my cheeks until my lips mushed together.

“Not so innocent, am I?” White, hot pleasure cut through me. I’d won

Eddie groaned and threw his head back, muttering the word Succubus

“The things I want to do to you, what I dream about doing, what I need to do to you. You don’t do that to a sister.” Eddie took a few more steps back, like he needed the space between us as a foreign heat spurred me across the tiles of the bathroom a couple of paces.

“Like what?” I demanded, excitement urging me on as the walls between my legs fluttered at his words.

“That’s not the sort of thing I should tell someone like you.” Eddie wrapped his hands around my wrists to pull them away as I reached up to cup his face, pinning them between us as he smirked at the pout on my lips.

“Someone like me?” I scowled.

“Virgin.” Eddie grinned widely, whispering the word like he was embarrassed.

“How would you know.” I shot back, flinching away from him.

“Because from the first day I met you, I haven’t taken my eyes off you. Trust me, I would know if you weren’t one anymore.” Eddie’s eyes flashed a warning in them as his face coloured, his chest heaving as he ran his gaze over my body.

“Show me.”

“What?” I enjoyed catching him off guard for a split second before I pushed forward, refusing to lose my false sense of confidence.

“Show me… what you want to do to me.” My voice sounded heavy with lust even to my own ears, a blush creeping up my neck as Eddie halted.

Eddie’s hands fell to my hips as he pushed me back against the counter, kicking the bathroom door shut with his heel as he lifted me onto the counter behind us, sliding my legs apart as he moved between them.

“That’s it. Keep those pretty eyes on me.” My breaths were shallow as Eddie dipped against my chest, biting at my breasts beneath the thin fabric of my shirt as he moved across my stomach, his hands tracing the trails of fire that his mouth left behind.

My head pressed back against the cold surface of the mirror as I knotted my hands in Eddie’s hair, holding onto him to keep me on earth as his face pressed against my slit covered by my pyjama shorts.

I wasn’t wearing panties and Eddie knew that. His eyes glinted up at me as I peeked down, shutting my eyes and throwing my head to the side as he pressed his nose against me and rubbed it against my swollen clit, laughing deeply as I trembled and hooked my legs around his back to trap him against me. Eddie pushed my thighs up further until they were resting on his shoulders and I was sitting half off the vanity, my pelvis angled perfectly towards him as he looked at me like I was edible.

“So goddamn corruptible.” Whatever snarky response I might have had, died on my lips as Eddie devoured me like a mad man. His lips latched around my clit as he tugged slightly, grinning into my thigh as a loud moan slid out of my chest. He squeezed my legs and shushed me before he brought his tongue to my puffy lips drenched in my own arousal and his saliva, spreading the mixture around and burying his face in it as I twisted beneath him and tugged his hair up towards me, begging for him to suck on my clit again as I whimpered.

“Please Eddie please.” I arched away from the mirror as I reached up to cup my own breasts, surprising myself as I pinched and twisted my hard nipples until I was crying out from both the pain and the laps of pleasure Eddie’s tongue was erecting from me.

“Uhh I’m fucking powerless if you beg.” He rolled his eyes as he moved higher on his knees, digging his fingers into the tops of my thighs as his teeth dragged along my throbbing bud, each tug from his mouth made my legs ache to snap shut and trap him there forever.

The mirror steamed up as heat billowed around us, a lusty concoction of my moans and Eddie’s grunts and the erotic sounds of his tongue on my pussy was enough to suffocate us both.

Something tightened just below my stomach, forcing my eyes shut as my legs twitched and I froze, almost seizing as Eddie’s tongue circled around my clit as his longest finger slid inside of my drenched hole easily, almost like he recognised some unseen cue to go faster.

His free hand that wasn’t working between my legs shot up to shove his fingers in my mouth so that my gag muted my scream, coating my tongue in the sticky residue that his hand had fucked out of me.

It all happened at once, something invisible broke inside of me and my legs snapped shut against the sides of Eddie’s face, my crossed ankles digging into the middle of his back as I arched up off the mirror, ripping his hair from the roots as my lips locked around a silent scream and choked on his hand.

Waves of immense pleasure, nothing like I had ever been able to elicit out of my body myself, destroyed my composure. This feeling came deep from within my soul, no, Hell.

It had to come from Hell because nothing could so devilishly intoxicating, I would ruin my soul searching for this feeling for the rest of the time.

As quickly as it came, it was over. I slumped against the vanity as I melted, my eyes ringing and blocking out Eddie’s question as he rose to his feet, grinning as he wiped the wetness from his chin and wrapped his hand around my ass, crushing me to him as he dipped his head down to me.

“You still think I’m innocent?” My hypothetical question came out groggy, like I was drunk as I clasped my fingers around the back of his neck. I couldn’t help the stupid grin on my face as I shivered, unable to block out the tingling between my thighs as my internal walls fluttered around nothing, begging for something.

“You just came on my face, what do you think?” His grin was twice as wide as his lips moved to mine.

“Yo Eddie, is that you in there?” Eddie’s face froze inches from mine as Trevor’s voice rung out from the hallway, his heavy footsteps thudding against the carpet runner as he headed towards the bathroom.

“Uh yeah man, just taking a piss.” I jumped as my brother’s fist pounded down against the wooden door, flinching as it rattled on its hinges. Eddie’s face was an exact image of fear the same as mine, as we tensed in each other’s arms.

“Well I’m gonna smoke if you wanna come.” There was a pause as Eddie’s eyes snapped shut and he pinched the bridge of his nose, I could see his thoughts ticking over as my head swam, my thoughts turning foggy from the breath I refused to let go off.

I tightened my hold around his shoulders as Eddie’s hands gripped my sides, lifting me off the bench and placing me with a feather light touch next to where the door would swing back on. His hand wrapped around my mouth as he turned towards the closed doorway.

“I’m going to tell him.” His words were barely more than a whisper as resolve hardened in his eyes, speaking more to himself than me as my face narrowed in shock.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec.” Eddie’s eyes flashed back to mine as his hand dropped to my throat, not tight enough to hurt but he squeezed it until my core throbbed for him again. Eddie mashed his lips to mine, wiping the smile off my face as his free hand cradled the curve of my cheek softly, he pulled away only to whisper in my ear.

“You’re not going on that date this weekend.” Eddie’s smirk disappeared from my shocked glance as he placed a soft kiss at the side of my neck, leaving me alone with my shiver as cold air replaced his hold and he tugged the door open, wide enough to slip through but still hiding me and my reflection, from view.

“You been jerking off in there or something?” I pressed both hands against my mouth as my knees shook, my brothers voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears.

“Yeah, couldn’t help myself.” There was a tinge of nerves and annoyance in his voice that Trevor didn’t pick up on, drowning in his forced laugh and my brothers boisterous one.

“You need a girl man.” It sounded like Trevor slapped Eddie on the shoulder and I glanced up in the mirror.

Eddie’s pained and honest stare met mine in the reflection as he glanced over his shoulder, a war raging in his face as he pulled the door closed behind him.

“Believe me, I’m trying.”

Part Three

Also readers - if anyone’s looking for a slow burn Eddie x enemies to lovers, check out my Opposite Ends series (almost completed)

#untouchable #off limits #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie imagine #Eddie brothers best friend #eddie x y/n

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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

sweet pea ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, dad charles/pregnancy au, fluff!, humor, super slight angst

word count: 4.6k

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?” “Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm.”

Or: you finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

notes... some nsfw allusions, nothing too bad. if pregnancy isnt ur thing this is all about it so.

auds here... i hated this for a long time so i thought id never post it hahahah but i will now bec i just redid some scenes and its okay in my eyes... also this is a bit overdue. i hope u like it everyone! :) title from this

It’s an hour before the race and you’re absent from your usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, you’re leaned against the wall of the tiny motorhome bathroom, silently digging your toes into your sandals. Charles knocks twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. He beams when he sees you, goes, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

He offers a hand, but you let your eyes shut, refusing to take it. You fail to even make eye contact, holding up the plastic stick that’d been in your clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s an omen, a portent, a cursed thing, casting your best friend into silence.

It’s cold and sterile in the bathroom—a stark contrast to where other families might find out they’re pregnant for the first time. You imagine a lemon yellow room bathed in noon sunlight and a happy balding doctor going “It’s positive, mama!” You picture a white family SUV in the parking lot, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness.

Instead, you get: “Do you have COVI—oh.”

“Yeah.” You say, pursing your lips. You swallow. “Oh.”

“I thought the puking was food poisoning,” he says. “Jesus, you know how many takeout places I’ve avoided lately?”

“Well, it’s not Panda Express. It’s your alien sperm,” you counter, lifting yourself from the wall and bumping past Charles on your way out and into his room. He follows, brows knitted together, muttering something French under his breath.

“By that logic, that’d mean you’re an alien now, too. See, your kinks have finally met their match.”

You turn, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He almost collides with you, his eyes trained determinedly on the positive pregnancy test in his hand. You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, annoyed. “Seriously. Jokes? Right now?”

“I mean—”

“Whatever,” you say, waving him off. “Just go and drive. We can talk about this later.”

“I’ll dedicate the race to the little alien.” He giggles, mimicking a champagne spray, waving the invisible bottle back and forth toward your still-not-showing stomach. His accent switches to a measly English one when he goes, “Oh my Gawd! And there goes the alien Leclerc! Wins in first! From pole!”

“Get out. Or so help me God this baby is growing up without you.”

He ends up winning. (“Should I dedicate every race to the ali—” “Stop calling it that.”)

—

This is nothing but a final culmination of your very layered relationship with Charles. For years, you two had comfortably gone by the “best friends” label, with a hidden “with benefits” clause. You’d grown up together, separated only when you went to university in New York. Your re-arrival in Monaco, coupled with the both of you having grown older and more independent, marked the start of the sex.

It works like clockwork. To relieve stress, to celebrate, to cure boredom. At some point, both of you just inwardly admitted there was a certain weakness to it. A glass of wine, a stick of tobacco, and you’d give in to the temptation easily. Then, in the morning—sometimes in Monaco, other times in foreign countries where your body feels like it’s still three a.m.—you come to a mutual agreement to never do it again.

But you always do, laughing in between kisses, mumbling whispered nothings between the sheets (or in the bathtub, or against the wall, or—that one time—on the balcony.) And now there’s proof of it. Well, barely any yet, you realize, staring at yourself in the mirror of Charles’ hotel room. You turn and flop yourself onto the bed, but face-up. You inch yourself toward the headboard and lean against it in a half-seated position.

“I can’t believe I’m…” You sigh. Finally, the jokes fizzle. This is the real talk.

Charles burrows himself next to you, shirtless and in a stupid pair of boxers with red hearts all over them. You’d gotten them as a Valentine’s Day gag two years ago, but now you’re thinking of the future, of telling this kid their dad has a pair of heart-decorated boxers. Momentarily, and temptingly so, you weigh the options of telling Charles you were joking and running away before sunup.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. He’d learned the phrase from some obscure American rom-com, if you recall correctly. He uses it constantly, and for many years, improperly.

“I’ll give you them for free,” you say, breathless with worry. “We’re having a kid.”

A hand places itself on your knee. You almost jerk away, but you relax. “What do you want to do?”

“With?” You ask, emptily. There’s so much to do. “The baby?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, but also us.”

“We’re not dating,” you say, a bit sharper than intended.

“We could.” He pauses. “For its sake.” He pokes your abdomen.

“I don’t—” You inhale, trying to reorganize all your thoughts. “I don’t want people thinking we’re suddenly dating and engaged and happy just because I’m about to pop a Charles Jr. out. I mean, what are you going to do with your racing? With a kid on the way, how’s travel going to work? My job? My masters?”

“I think… I think you and I are lucky enough,” he says slowly, “to be able to weigh all these options without losing too much time or resources. I will support you no matter what, and you know that. And really, who cares if people think we ‘date’ because of the baby? You and I have been ‘dating’ since we were eleven.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until your laugh is mixed with a sob. You don’t know if you’re sad, pissed, overwhelmed, loved—or all four. “Okay? So… let’s both think about it. More you than me. And tomorrow, we can weigh this all over again. Let’s sleep on it. Remember? La nuit—”

“—porte conseil,” you finish tearily. “Okay.”

—

It’s two weeks later. Charles gets stuck in the paddock doing something or other for Sunday, so you’re left to your own devices in the parking lot. Five minutes of waiting turns to fifteen, then a half hour. That’s the catalyst for your mid-evening freakout—suddenly you’re thinking about all the times you and this weird thing inside you might be alone, left for work, by an athlete dad.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks when you’re heaving out another dry, panic-induced sigh. You turn, finding it familiar, and see Seb behind you. He may have been Charles’ teammate, but he’s a friend to you, too, and you find he’s always the most grounded in heated discussions.

“Seb,” you croak, caught off guard. “I’m fine.” Your voice breaks on the ine, and suddenly fat tears roll quietly down your face.

You tell him eventually, when he asks you again if you’re okay, making him the second person to know; still, the telling doesn’t get easier. You didn’t even tell Charles, you think. You merely shoved a Clearblue stick in his face and waited for the goofy reaction that would undoubtedly meet your ears.

“A baby,” he says softly. Happily. “Congratulations. This is a big step… but you don’t sound excited.”

“I mean,” you say in between waves of tears, “I am? I am. But—it happened so fast—we’re not even officially together—and Charles is—”

“Do I need to talk some sense into Charles?” Seb asks suddenly, concerned.

“No. He’s—he’s being great. Really supportive.” You wipe the tears and fresh ones come. “He’s happy. You know him. I think I’m just overwhelmed. I mean I’m the one who’s toting this baby around.”

“Take it one step at a time,” he muses. “See a doctor, work out non-race schedules with Mattia, get everything in order. If I know you, this baby will be in the best hands. And that’s not even counting Charles.” He pulls you in for a hug that lasts ages, one that says thank you and I love you better than words. You inhale, find the tears have stopped. You realize what comes after this—it’s telling everyone else. Lily, your best friend. Carlos. Charles’ family. Your family. The fans, oh God you’d forgotten about the fans. The social media announcements.

Charles strolls into the parking lot—runs, more like, with apologies spouting out of him, just two minutes after Seb leaves. He presses a delicate, apologetic kiss to your forehead, a hand on your stomach. “Hey,” he says. Then, to your abdomen, covered by a sweatshirt, “Hey there, alien.” You wonder what this will be like in two months. In seven. In nine.

—

You tell your families over lunch on a lucky off day. There is little surprise—just tears from both your moms and Arthur teasingly asking you to recount the details of conception. You’re in a sundress serving crostini when Pascale pulls you aside to the back of the yard.

She presses a kiss to your cheek, one of conviction and faith. “I always knew,” she says. “You’re going to be a wonderful mom.”

—

The drivers all find out one way or another, news trickling through the grapevine like honey. You share it to Lily first, and of course she tells Alex. You tell Lewis, too, over spring rolls that he claims will power up the baby when it’s born. Charles tells Pierre, who tells Yuki, and Carlos, who tells Lando. You tell Mick, who hugs you and says, “Oh my god! I already knew, Seb told me. I kept wanting to say congratulations.”

It’s a matter of two weeks before everybody knows. You know because you’ve barely taken a step into the dimly lit Ferrari motorhome when you halt and bolt back outside, harboring yourself a few metres away at a safe distance. Charles, who had been walking beside you, arm looped around your waist, turns, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“No. Nuh-uh. It smells in there.”

He sniffs the darkness, fumbles for the light switch. “No it doesn’t.”

“It smells like”—you grit your teeth, trying to identify the stench—“cheese. And champagne.”

“Why would it smell like che—”

He bangs the light open and illuminates a surprise party. The entire grid starts cheering, having unheard the entire conversation. There’s a huge banner that says CONGRATULATIONS PARENTS, and on a makeshift table in the centre, an assortment of cake slices, cheese, and flutes of champagne. Charles laughs with delight at the surprise, and then turns to find you squatting on the ground, trying to quell your stomach.

“Give me five,” you say, waving him off.

He returns after ten to find you still trying to calm the waves of nausea. You hear his footsteps and heave yourself up, standing to face him. “I asked Esteban and Max to evacuate the place of cheese and champagne. It’s just coffee and cake now. I even got three fans going.”

“Desolée,” you say, miserable. He wraps two big arms around you, nestling his chin atop your head. “I feel like a high-maintenance monster.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re not the monster. The alien is.”

“I told you to stop calling it that,” you say, shutting your eyes and leaning into his touch. “Before it catches on.”

“Okay. E.T.? Spock? Open to suggestions.” Hand in yours, he walks you gently to the party, arising loud cheers again. In between sips of hot water, he says, “How about Chewy?”

—

The sense of smell proves to be useful in endeavours elsewhere.

“You never clean your car,” you say, lying horizontal on the leather seat and picking bits of dirt off. “I can smell month old Cheetos.”

Charles watches you obsessively nitpick at the detailing. “Last time you looked like this, I gave you a baby.”

“One more word,” you warn sharply.

“But seriously, be careful. The alien might get stressed.”

You brace yourself for the stupid words that will indubitably follow.

“Don’t worry. If it falls out I’ll plop it in a race car and it’ll be the next Hamilton. Imagine how light it’ll be.”

There it is.

—

Your first trip to the doctor’s is interesting. Charles insists on wearing a wig because he’s so easily recognized in Monaco, so now you look like you’re conceiving a baby with Weird Al Yankovic.

The doctor wheels in a cart with a monitor and all the necessary equipment, and even if it suddenly feels all too real, Charles squeezes your hand and you’re calm again. “I’m back,” she says, sliding into a wheely chair beside you and gelling your stomach.

“Hi, Back,” Charles responds in a crude, twangy Texan accent. The dad humor starts early, you suppose.

You grit your teeth to try and excuse his embarrassing behavior, but suddenly the monitor clicks open and there it is. It looks like the ones in movies, print-outs from friends, but at the same time it doesn’t. It looks different. Special. Yours. You zero in on it, breathless. That’s yours. The doctor says a couple minor things—nothing worrisome—and when you turn to relay it to Charles in case he’d zoned out, you find his face splotchy.

“Are you crying?”

“That’s ours,” he says, dipping down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s mine and Charles’, not mine and Bob Ross’,” you say, but you pull him closer anyway.

You order two printouts. The week next, you discover that Charles snuck back in to order an extra eight and has mailed them out to friends and drivers. You find out because Kylian Mbappe messages you “Due in April? Make me godfather!” on Instagram.

—

Gradually, you fall into a pattern of being queasy constantly. You get nitpicky with meals, and not irrationally—Charles had fed you a spicy hotdog and you’d gone half a bite before hurling it, and your breakfast, into the nearest toilet. You find solace in your cravings—all of which happen to be the same everyday.

Chinese takeout from just about any restaurant ends up being your best friend. You somehow can’t stomach anything but that specific cuisine, much to your own surprise. You find new ways to combine them with each other. Rice paper wrappers with chow mein. Hotpot with fried rice. If you’re not eating Chinese, you reduce your appetite to crackers or hot tea to avoid becoming too nauseated.

It’s poetic almost, the way he sets out the food carefully, in the order you like them. He always presses a kiss to your forehead after.

Around this time, you develop a crazy sex drive, waking Charles up at numerous points of the night, begging into his neck for something, anything. You last an hour before you’re asking again. This proves especially difficult before races, where Charles gives in a bit too easily and Carlos has to knock on the door, going “You have to finish somewhere else too, Charles!”

—

You insist Charles hold off on telling the fans, for a few months. It goes okay until your outfits on the paddock evolve into the variety of “Charles’ hoodies” to hide the increasingly evident bloat of pregnancy, and nosy fans start speculating all over Twitter. That’s when he sits you down and gently tells you he thinks it’s time you both announce it.

You’re sitting beside him in his hotel room, after two calls with his bosses, trying to formulate the proper announcement. You download PicsArt to make it pretty and clean and formatted—because the poor guy was about to post a Notes app screenshot—and then it’s on the Internet.

“She’s truly MOTHER,” one fan comments. Despite yourself, you press the heart icon beside it. It’s your bit of comfort when you catch sight of the nastier comments under the post.

—

You’re ironically gifted an ancient 80s aerobic exercise DVD for mums by Lily and Alex. You’re sure it’s older than you. Charles, though, in his valiant effort to connect with you and Chewy, does the routine everyday. You wake up to the electronic synthpop and Charles doing booty squats in the living room.

The permed instructor smiles through the scratchy 80s quality and goes, “You are rocking it, momma!”

“You hear that?!” Charles pants. “I am rocking it!”

—

Your first parenting fight ends up being one over the baby’s name. Yeah. Of all things. You don’t know why you’re so worked up about it, considering you don’t even know the gender of the baby yet. You arrive in Monaco to mark the first of five off days and Charles makes some random, offhand joke about naming the baby Daryl, and you suddenly start rambling on and on about how it’s too ugly, even if you’d never thought about names before now.

“It’s not going to be Daryl. It won’t be Daryl,” Charles says, hands on your shoulders. You heave another sob. “Please stop crying. You never cry. I’m a bit freaked out.”

“It’s—just—that,” you hiccup, “I—don’t—want to name a—our—baby—Daryl.”

“Yeah, yep,” he says, soothingly. “I got you. It’s not going to be Daryl. Never. We don’t need to decide anything. You gonna calm down for me?”

“I can’t—stop—crying,” you snivel desperately, burying your face in your hands.

He presses a firm kiss to the corner of your quivering lips, and you tug him in for a real one. You calm down when you pull away, exhaling. You gaze at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Blame the alien,” you sniff.

He kisses your stomach, which shows signs of pregnancy more and more as the days pass. “Hear that?” He whispers into the skin. “She’s blaming you, Chewy.”

—

Your next trip to the doctor’s is with your appointed private physician, Dr. Davies. Two minutes before the doctor walks in, you make a serious and compelling order for Charles to remove the Weird Al wig, which he does—but stores in your bag, “just in case.” It’s also his opporunity to play teacher’s pet and showcase how involved he is in your pregnancy, which, judging by the amount of weird cultish pregnancy books he’s burned through, is very much so.

“It’s gonna be a boy,” you declare while you’re being gelled up. You’re past the point of denial and bloat, now showing way too obviously. “Mom’s intuition.”

“Well, all the books say it’s a girl,” he says proudly.

“Yeah, they also say drinking lemon juice while trying to conceive gives you a girl. I’m sure scientific accuracy was their greatest objective.”

“Girl.”

“Boy,” you say dismissively.

“Girl.”

“Boy.”

“Girl.” It’s not Charles this time, it’s the physician, with a small smile on his face.

You squeeze Charles’ hand so hard you’re half sure it’s chipped off and fallen to the tiled floor. You’re having a girl. Normally Charles would turn and make some petty statement about he’d been right, but—you’re having a girl. A pretty baby girl. You almost can’t believe it. He totally can’t, pressing kisses to your hair and face.

You let him buy pink paint later that day.

—

You predict it, but it comes—fights and squabbles over nothing at all.

First it’s about work, then housing, then his job, then the danger of his job. It’s petty, and usually you storm off in an emotional cloud of irrationality, brought down after a talk, a play-by-play, compromise, reassurance. It’s hard when you’re carrying around a human being, you want to say. Try being in my shoes.

“Can we talk?” Charles says, in the thick of another fight. You’re on the balcony of your flat, mulling over nothing at all. Your stomach is heavy, you’re always exhausted, you never feel pretty anymore even if Charles is always unfailing at telling you you are.

“Okay,” you murmur, turning. You’ve already developed a habit of placing your hands on your bump always.

He inhales. “I’m scared.”

This is a first. And you realize—in these six months of being pregnant, Charles has been your rock, but has never expressed much fear until now. He’s always been good. Great. Supportive. “Of what?”

“Of—becoming a dad.” He pauses, as if to weigh his words. “I don’t have… a blueprint anymore.”

It dawns on you what he’s talking about. You accept the hug when it comes, holding the nape of his neck. He isn’t crying, but is close to it. His voice is shaky when he continues, whispers against your ear. “What if I don’t know what to do?”

“Baby,” you say, weakly. You push him gently so he’s looking into your eyes. “If the way you’ve taken care of me the past how many months is any indication of how you’ll treat this alien, I know she’s in good hands. You’ve got so much of your dad in you. You’re caring, sweet, you even got a headstart on the dad jokes.” He laughs. “I want this. And the only reason I ever did was because I knew you’d be with me, being an amazing dad, and an even better…”

“Boyfriend,” he says. His eyes hold hesitance—but you quell it with a nod.

“Boyfriend,” you echo. “For now.”

—

The nursery looks like a nursery in February. It was a storage room in Charles’ flat that had really, at some point, become yours, too. Full of boxes and old suits and memories, it’d taken weeks to properly store everything and make way for the furniture. Charles, of course, insists on painting it himself, with the shade of pink he purchased especially for the room.

He hits his head twice and touches the wet paint. There’s a handprint embossed above the bassinet. (Yours is next to it, at his insistence.)

—

You’re a yoga ball by mid-March, having trouble sleeping and dealing with everything being swollen. Charles helps you through it all, turning the heating up and down every time you get even a bit scratchy with the temperature in the flat or motorhome. Your cravings also morph again at this point, into rigatoni that Charles cooked sometime over winter; he requests Ferrari add an induction stove to every race weekend motorhome that you can make it to so he can cook it at your beck and call.

The season begins. Every race is dedicated to Chewy, and every race is won.

—

It’s early morning in late March when Dr. Davies sends you an email with a one-liner that sounds firm enough to set you and Charles in place after two races that involve you being flown around.

Absolutely NO more air and long car travel for Mommy.

“Can we manage?” You mope, rereading the email, genuinely distressed as you watch your boyfriend pack for Australia. It’s a long haul flight, with only one stopover in Zurich, and you’re filled with anxiety. There isn’t a compromise—until you’re popping the baby out, Charles needs to try and score the title.

“You know I can always drop out of races,” he says softly. “That’s what reserve drivers are for.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue. “I’m just worried.”

“You’re not due ’til the 12th,” he assures you. “I’ll be back then, even if it means dropping a race.”

He leans down and kisses you softly, rubbing your shoulders and ankles. “I’ll be back before you know it. Get some sleep first, okay?” He repeats the sentiment to your stomach, adding a kiss and a bye bye Chewy. You drift off to a sorrowful sleep when he departs, a slow ache in your lower back blooming that feels just like many of the other slow aches lately.

You’re up after a half hour with discomfort. You suppose something is just up with your sleep position, and readjust yourself. The discomfort sharpens, then melts. You sigh with relief, a long whistley exhale, and sleep again.

Bliss lasts about three hours, then you’re up again, groaning. You’re not due for a prenatal yoga class until four in the afternoon, and your body isn’t used to being awake. Hell, it’s not used to being this pained. You shift once, twice, trying to sleep with fruitless and exhausting attempts. It takes a while, but in between shifting positions and trying to make yourself yawn, it registers.

“Chewy.” You groan, cupping your gigantic bump. “Seriously?”

—

The first person you call is Charles, naturally. He should be in Zurich, but maybe signal is spotty or something, because none of your texts or calls ping. So you move down the list to the person you know will be in Monaco and not off racing, like everybody you know is—and it just so happens to be Dr. Davies.

You always thought Charles would be nowhere but beside you when you went into labor. But you’re here clutching the straps of your overnight bag being driven to the hospital, exhale, inhale, try Charles, try Carlos. Exhale, inhale. Try Charles. Try Carlos. Your contractions don’t quell; they only grow in intensity and you wince the whole ride through.

“Looks like it’s going to be a fast labor,” Dr. Davies says when he’s done checking you in and making sure everything is in order. You nod, breathless and flushed. You’ve called your mum here and she’s on the way with Charles’ but—Charles is the issue.

“I will weld myself shut if it means I’m giving birth without the dad,” you beg. “Without Charles.”

Charles, who picks up after forty-five minutes of radio silence. He’s in the jet. Give him an hour. “I will pilot this plane myself if I have to. Don’t do anything—don’t make any decisions without me.”

“Too fucking late.” You say, wheezy with labor. “I’m putting N/A on the certificate.”

“You carry Chewy around for nine months and I don’t get to meet her first?” He asks, in a last-ditch effort to cheer you up. You tear up, splotchy and red all over.

“We can’t call her Chewy. We never discussed names. And oh God it can’t be Daryl,” you say, whimpers turning into half-sobs of overwhelm and yearning. You’re scared. You need Charles, who’s been with you for every week, every milestone, every kick, every rigatoni craving. But he’s not here. You have Dr. Davies, and in five minutes you’ll have your mum and Pascale, but they are not Charles. You breathe heavy into the phone.

“I love you,” you say finally. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says gently. “I love you. I’ll be there, okay? Just—just wait for me.”

—

Lil 3s ago

does it hurt?

i know it does but i’m trying to make u feel better

love from houston. i will call you ASAP.

You 1s ago

yeah it hurts so bad

apparently they don’t do epidurals

fuck europe

—

In between quiet periods and intense ones, you finally reach your peak. A nurse takes one glance and nods and your bed is disengaged and wheeling around again. Pascale squeezes your left hand, your mum the other. “Wait!” You pant, voice spent, totally tired, flustered.

The nurses exchange a look. “Ma’am—”

“No, you don’t understand. The dad, my—the dad—he’s out—and I don’t.” You pause, the onset of a cry coming on. Pascale takes the lead, firm, asking for a few more moments of patience.

“I can’t do this,” you say hopelessly, throwing your flushed head back. “No. Not without Charles.”

“I’m here,” Charles says, bounding through the door. He’s in official Ferrari gear and his hair is disheveled and he's clearly been crying. Had Chewy not been wedging her way out, you would’ve kissed him right then. You feel nothing but love.

“You’re a sneaky fucker,” you say instead, and the rest is a blur.

—

It’s an hour before the race and Charles is absent from his usual spot greeting friends and guests along the paddock. Instead, he’s leaned against the wall of the motorhome, silently digging his toes into his shoes. You knock twice before trying to open the door and succeeding. You beam when you see him. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

His two girls.

Julia stretches out a chubby hand, but he smiles teasingly, refusing to take it. He holds eye contact, holding up the ring that’d been in his clammy grip for about twenty minutes. It’s a symbol, a sign, a blessed thing, casting his girlfriend into silence.

It’s a bit dark—a stark contrast to where other guys might propose for the first time. He imagines a Caribbean beach bathed in sunset. He pictures a Jeep in the sand, a happy blonde couple jumping into each other’s arms with unadulterated happiness. He figures if you don’t like this, he’ll pay for that.

Instead, he gets: “You’re a doofus—oh.”

“Yeah.” He says, pursing his lips. He swallows, gives you the biggest smile of his life. “Oh.”

It’s perfect.

#f1 #leclsrc1000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months

Note

Oh no...! The fluff...! I'm gonna have sweet tooth because of your works (jkd i luv them dun worry :'3)

So we had the kings as kids now... How about they meet their kids from the future??

Like some kind of accident(s) happen that take them back in time (yeah I'm out of idea 😭 sr)

Family's meeting!!!! *vroom vroom*

Shhh, that's my plan! If I give everyone cavities, we'll be lining up to see Morax as dentist, and he won't hurt himself in the war again lmao

The royal kids are definitely clever beasts. It wouldn't surprise me if they figured something out and were thrown into our times for 24 hours. We've already had a Christmas miracle, so I can believe anything. Let the kings meet their teenage offspring~

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan would like a family more than anything. When one day he saw white-haired twin nobles next to you and heard that they were your children from the future, his heart would melt in an instant. Ironically, they're both taller than him. But he's still able to get through it. He wants to take them to the front to see how they fight and then have a good beer (juice for them, they can fight but not drink) in the best pub. You have never seen him so happy and with so much love in his eyes. Do they really have to go back to their own time? Well... As soon as they were gone, Satan would grab your hand with a smug smirk. Be prepared to not get out of bed for a week, and certainly not on your own.

Mammon has a bunch of children, and nobody can convince me otherwise. You can create a whole group of idols out of them, and that's basically how they are treated in their times. He would spend time with each of them, curious to see how the future would unfold. Each of them is so enterprising that they would rule Tartaros without hesitation if he just left them alone for a while. But what he likes most is your reaction. He would watch lovingly as you happily talked and cuddled with every one of them. They also know well that the most important person in the entire country is their sweet human parent. Be ready to be spoiled by both Mammon and your entire group of children.

Beelzebub is terrified. He'd be sure he was absent so long that you'd actually had teenage child. There is no doubt that girl he met is his daughter. She appears and disappears just like him, has this petty smirk, and her first impulse was to sniff him. Besides... he just know it, okay? They actually ran into each other by accident in Avisos. After all day with her he will come back, promising you that he will visit you more often. You wonder how quickly he will forget about it, especially since he is clearly relieved when you tell him that you don't have children (yet), and it was just some anomaly in space-time. And it’s not that he doesn't want children. He would rather be there as they grow up… as much as he can.

Leviathan first glances at you, just to find out if you and this beautiful princess have something in common. His daughter must be perfect, and only your genes and his combined would be able to create a being more beautiful than himself. Not that you'd ever heard him say that out loud. Jealousy would fight within him with duty. Fatherly pride will prevail when he sees that she is perfectly brought up and treats him with due respect. Ah, anyone who looks at her will hang. If he's only going to have her for one day, then only he and you can spend time with her. The nobles will be delighted because they haven't been hanged so lavishly for a long time.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan

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dead-dove-yandere · 2 months

Text

OC Intro - Noah

Voyeur Yandere

Male ♡ 21 ♡ Human ♡ NEET

TW: Stalking, non-consensual photography, voyeurism, obsession

♡ - By all accounts, he’s a nobody, a loser. A former latchkey kid with an emotionally absent family, no friends, constantly teased and bullied growing up.

♡ - All he had to satisfy his need for connection was the ever growing collection of horror films.

♡ - Everyday after school, he’d watch them over and over, taking pictures of his favourite actors and actresses from magazines and posters and carefully pasting them into scrapbooks for him to worship later.

♡ - He’d spend all of class daydreaming about meeting all his favourite stars and how they’d love him, not ignore or mistreat him like everyone else in his life.

♡ - He barely managed to graduate high school and afford a small apartment, with nothing but a mattress on the floor, piles of his movies and a cheap portable DVD player to watch them on.

♡ - He only just manages to scrape by, scrounging up enough each month to pay his bills. With no job and no social life, he falls into a spiral of depression.

♡ - Until he met his darling. You.

♡ - Dragging himself to the convenience store one evening to search for dinner, he saw you, practically glowing under the fluorescent lights and he knew he had to do absolutely anything to worship you.

♡ - It started small, frequenting that same store in hopes of seeing you again. Then he escalated. He scoped out other shops you went to. Collected receipts that fell from your pocket. He scoped out where you live and stood outside, trying to find the best angle to peer into your bedroom window.

♡ - With what little money he was able to scrounge up he bought a camera and started taking photos of you surreptitiously, first through your bedroom window, then from afar at your place of work, and eventually even from right behind you as you walk down the street, once he plucks up the courage.

♡ - Every photo is treasured, loving printed, cut out and pasted into his scrapbook just like all of his favourite movie stars.

♡ - It isn’t long before he starts filming you too. With no job of his own, he has all the time in the world to secretly follow you and film your every move before burning the footage to a disc and watching it over and over - his own found footage horror film.

♡ - He can’t wait to meet his favourite star. For now he’s too shy to try to introduce himself. But for now, perhaps it’s better he loves you through the screen. It’s what he knows after all.

♡ - But soon, he’ll make his move - after all, he wants nothing more than to show you all his favourite films.

♡ - He’s a sopping wet pathetic loser of a nobody, but he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to ensure that he is your sopping wet pathetic loser.

Personality

Noah is a NEET, prone to bouts of low self esteem, but he is easily motivated by his darling. He worships and reveres his darling like they were a deity, the same way he obsesses over film stars and celebrities, who he used to get attached to as a teen. He’s shy and feels it’s a lot easier to just watch his darling, whether it be through the thousands of photos and hours of footage he’s amassed or whether it be engaging through voyeurism more directly. That being said, he dreams of finally working up to courage to talk to his darling, and take them back to his apartment, even if he is embarrassed about how bare it is. He’s obsessive, devoted and utterly pathetic and would bend over backwards to please his darling even if it would hurt him. He’d do almost anything - except let his darling go, of course. A lovesick puppy of a yandere, completely in denial about anything being wrong whatsoever.

This is my first time writing something like this! I hope it is okay!

More OC intros and writing involving my characters will be coming soon - I plan to open requests for the first time once I have built up a larger catalog of stories and OCs :))

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

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7ndipity · 2 months

Text

Quiet

Hobi x Reader

Summary: Just a lil blurb about Hobi realizing that it's okay to not always be his sunshiny self around you.

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @seleneacyoflove for requesting this, as well as the lovely anon who sent this headcanon! This is short and kinda eh, but I hope you’ll still like it💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Quiet was something that Hobi had learned to avoid over the years. Quiet was awkward, quiet meant concerned glances and inquiries. In his work, quiet meant stagnation. Even on his own, he had come to dread the silence.

But after weeks of packed schedules and non-stop traveling and rehearsals, fatigue had finally weighed him down enough that nothing could possibly compel him to move from the place where he’d spent the better part of the last hour, resting heavily against your side on the sofa, head on your shoulder while your hands traced absent-minded patterns on his skin.

The two of you hadn’t gotten to spend any time together in weeks, but mercifully, you had managed to match up your schedules so that you had an entire weekend together to catch up and reconnect.

Normally he would be bouncing off the walls with excitement; no work, no worries, just you and him and two days of freedom to do whatever you wanted. And although he was happy to finally have time with you, he was so unbelievably tired that he found himself drifting, unable to find the energy to add much to your conversation throughout dinner, just quietly basking in the comforting rhythm and cadence of your voice.

Eventually though, you fell quiet as well, letting silence settle over the two of you as you cuddled together watching tv, his eyes on the screen but not taking in anything that was going on, his mind wandering further as a faint sense of guilt began to swirl in his stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He suddenly said in a quiet voice.

You looked down at him, confused. “For what?”

“For not being here.” He said, playing with your fingers as he avoided your eyes.

You intertwined your hand with his, stilling his movements.

“You are here.” You said gently.

He shook his head. “Not properly, not how I want to be.”

He was always known as everyone’s sunshine, their energy, their hope. But at moments like this, when he was so drained and distant, he felt like he was letting you down.

He was pulled from that train of thoughts by the feeling of your lips against his cheek, glancing up to meet your gaze, your face full of understanding.

“That’s okay. Everyone needs quiet time, there’s nothing wrong with that.” You said. “I don’t mind being like this with you.”

And in a way, it was such a simple statement, but the sense of relief that it caused to wash over him was so profound, it was like he could breathe properly for the first time in he didn’t know how long, his whole body relaxing back against you, letting his head slowly droop to rest on your shoulder again.

You were still looking at him with a small smile. “Is there anything you need me to do? Do you want to just go on to bed?”

He shook his head, snuggling closer to you.

“Can we stay here?” He asked. “At least for a little longer?”

“We can stay here as long as you want.” You replied, letting your fingers resume their previous activity, tracing tiny designs along his arm.

“Thank you.” He whispered, the silence that surrounded the two of you for once not feeling suffocating to him. Instead, it felt comforting, like slipping into bed at the end of a long day. It felt peaceful, safe.

“Anytime, baby.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters

#hoseok fluff #hoseok scenarios #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts fluff #bts requests #hoseok blurb #bts blurbs #bts blurb #7ndipity

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gayvorestories · 2 months

Note

How about predator who’s having huge indigestion/belly ache from the person he ate, and he’s struggling very much with hiding his belly because prey is melting much longer than he expected?

this got very long, so I'm gonna have to write a second part another time. I liked this idea, and I thought it would be kind of a hot twist for the pred to get caught and have to eat the person who figured them out. I hope you like it!

Derek sighed and stretched, the warm water of the shower running down his distended, shaking belly. A hot shower after choking down a hookup always felt amazing, and this one was putting up a huge fight.

He sighed and patted the sides of his belly, "hey, shhh, it's okay, you're gonna hurt yourself fighting like that."

The man in his stomach yelled something he couldn't make out, but sounded very angry.

He turned the water off and stepped out, drying off with a towel as he stepped up to the mirror to fix his hair. The smooth surface of the counter was cold as his belly brushed it while he leaned in close to the fogged up glass, making sure to get the part even. He wiped the glass with a towel and stepped back, getting a good look at his stomach.

Derek was 6'11" and built like a brick wall, and his latest lucky meal was a 5'2" twiggy twink he had picked up online. He let out a long burp and gave his belly a rub while he thought to himself, I give him a few hours and no one will know.

He wandered towards the kitchen, his stomach shaking and kicking, and searched the fridge for a beer. When there was nothing in the door he took a deep breath and bent down to check the lower shelves, his meal thrashing as the contents of his stomach went sloshing forward.

Ah FUCK, I forgot to get the beer first!

Absently rubbing the bottom of his gut while leaning on the fridge door, he questioned whether it would be worth an in-and-out at the gas station down the street. The cashier is usually high and it's a weekday... maybe if I wear the baggy hoodie... he was kind sm-

Derek let out a pained moan, his meal had just given him a pretty solid kick. He flexed his abs back hard in response, squeezing his entire core on the man trapped inside until he started to shout.

"Don'tchu fuckin kick me like that again. I can squeeze harder than that, I'll break your fuckin arm. I'm not lettin you out, but I can make this hurt," he said as he gave another mild squeeze with his abs.

He heard a whimper in reply and went to get his big hoodie. Now he needed a beer.

The biggest hoodie in the house barely covered his belly, but it was bulky enough he just looked like he'd had a huge meal if he leaned forward a little. He slipped out, hood up, and tried to quietly slip to his car.

Two steps out, he almost walked directly into his neighbor.

"Oh hey man!"

"Oh, uh, hey Kenny," Derek said, trying not to lose his balance stepping out of the way.

"Really great day out today, it's finally warming up," Kenny said smiling as he turned the key in his apartment door.

"Oh, yeah, yeah it's great. Gotta, uh, go do some stuff."

"You alright man?" Kenny said, pausing before going in.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just woke up late," Derek lied. He felt his meal shift, pushing into the front of his stomach. He moved his hand to cover the spot and turned around quick, unsure how much Kenny had seen, "I gotta get goin, good to see you man."

"Yeah, you too," Kenny said in a slightly different tone.

Fuck I hope he didn't see that.

Derek put his hands in his pockets and walked across the lot to his car, the heavy weight in his stomach starting to weigh him down. He practically fell down into the seat of his car and leaned back for a moment, rubbing his sore belly. It felt like the guy in there had been doing backflips the whole walk, and his stomach was starting to wake up.

He tried to sit the seat up, but was immediately stopped when his gut pressed hard into the steering wheel. Derek sighed, repositioned the seat, and cranked the car. At least my feet reach the pedals, he thought to himself as his stomach gave an uncomfortable groan.

The entire way to the store, his stomach bubbled and churned as the man inside struggled against his waking digestive system. He parked and leaned back in the seat again, patting his gut as it let out a low, unhappy groan. "Buddy you have got to stop moving so much."

Derek got out and walked inside the almost-empty gas station and headed straight for the beer cooler in the back. He picked up a single 24 pack and felt another rough bump from inside. After a long sigh, he reached down and picked up another and headed for the door, only to be see that the previously empty store was now packed with about a dozen people.

He steeled himself and pushed forward. Two people blocking the first aisle, one person in the second but standing in the dead center... ah, I see a path, he said to himself as he slipped around a kid spreading out candy bars on the bottom shelf and counting them. He stepped into the next aisle through a gap between them and had to take a quick step back when two kids running through the store almost ran right into him.

His meal gave a solid nudge against one of his organs and he lurched to the side, bumping belly-first into a display rack filled with individually wrapped muffins. As it tipped Derek tried to catch it, but his newly-weighted stomach knocked him off balance and he lost his footing, hitting the ground alongside it, plastic wrapped sweets sliding across the floor.

Derek was dazed and blinked a few times to get his bearings as he tried to stand, but couldn't quite do a full sit-up.

"You alright, mate?"

Derek looked to the side and saw a hand reached out. The man reaching out was tall, decently built, and had a thick aussie accent.

Oh fuck, he's hot

He took the man's hand and stood up, picking up the stand with his other hand and setting it back where it went.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," Derek managed to put together.

"Yeah you took a hard fall there mate," the man said as he picked up a few muffins off the ground.

Derek realized everyone in the store had just watched him wipe the fuck out, including this incredibly hot man who was now helping him clean up.

Oh no, he's hot

"Y-yeah, just lost my balance there," Derek said as he picked up a few muffins too and set them back on the display.

Unthinkingly, Derek stood up to full height as the man turned around and looked up at him. He froze while putting a muffin back, his mouth slightly open.

"You uh. Glad you're good. Good you're uh, on your feet," the stranger said with a very familiar look.

Derek smiled, suddenly a lot less embarrassed. The man had a handsome face, a thick blonde mustache with dark brown eyes, and the tanktop he was wearing showed off nice arms and a cute beer belly. He seemed so tall from the ground, but now Derek could see he was at least a foot taller than the man.

"I'm uh Joshua. Josh. I'm Josh."

Derek's stomach gave a low grumble as his meal shifted again, rippling the surface of his hoodie.

Josh's eyes widened and Derek grabbed both cases of beer. "I gotta go," Derek said, taking a step forward.

"W-wait!" Josh said, taking a step in front of him, "I uh.. do you.." he started. He lifted his arm and scratched behind his head while he tried to form the words and Derek did everything he could to stop from darting his eyes right to his pit. His stomach let out another groan and the movement under his hoodie was obvious this time.

"Do you want to go to dinner? I uh. Can bring a friend," he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

It took a second for what he was asking to process, but when it did Derek's eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'd like that."

His stomach let out another gurgle, like water flowing through a pipe, and someone looked over from the next aisle. "I gotta get going though."

Josh took out a pen and wrote a phone number on the side of Josh's beer box. "Just uh. Y'know, gimme a text."

Derek smiled and went over to the line, his stomach starting to pick up in intensity. He could feel it starting to squeeze and fill with juice by the way it sloshed when he walked. He leaned forward to hide the movements under the jacket as he waited for the person in front of him to pay, his stomach making increasingly loud, increasingly wet groans.

The person in front of him took his receipt and looked at Derek as he passed, clearly unhappy with the noise. He put up both cases on the counter and set his card against the chip reader, using his other hand to lean on the counter. The constant weight in his stomach was starting to turn from a dull ache to a steady pain as he heard the card reader beep.

"Keep the receipt," he said as he took the cases and slipped out the door.

...

When he got home, he set both cases down on the couch and kicked his shoes off to the side. His stomach ached and he was ready t-

The doorbell rang.

Oh my god please let me sit, he thought to himself.

He looked through the peephole and saw Kenny. Oh fuck, he saw.

After taking a deep breath, Derek opened the door.

"Hey man, what's up?" Derek said quickly.

"Hey man, can I come in for a sec?"

"Y-yeah, sure, why?"

Kenny stepped inside, "hey, y'know, we've been neighbors for a while, right? I uh, I see stuff. I see guys go in, I see... only you come out. I'm not dumb, I know what's goin on. I know where all the protein for that bulk comes from," he said laughing.

Derek was silently staring down at him.

Kenny stopped laughing and his smile dropped. "Look man, I got stuff in my apartment I don't want the cops going through. You can't be going out all..." Kenny mimed having a bloated stomach and Derek felt a bead of sweat running down his neck.

"All what, Kenny?"

Kenny froze, locking eyes with Derek. He reached for the doorknob but Derek was fast, grabbing him by the wrist so hard it hurt.

"A-Ah! Dude stop, stop! It doesn't have to be like this!"

Derek let go of his wrist and shoved Kenny down the hall. He turned the deadbolt and tossed his sweatshirt on the couch as Kenny stood up and tried to get his balance. He looked up and froze when he saw Derek approaching, the distinct shape of a man still shifting just underneath the muscles of his stomach.

"O-oh fuck. I-is... dude what the fuck."

The man struggled inside Derek's body, kicking and yelling. Derek could make out one word: "run."

Kenny crawled backwards until he hit the wall. When the meal in Derek's stomach gave another hard kick to his kidney, he flexed his abs hard, the vein in his forehead popping out. Kenny's blood ran cold when he heard a sickening crunch.

"Should have minded your own business, man."

Kenny tried to make a dash for the door, but Derek reached down and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him into a wall.

"Here man, since you're so curious," Derek said as he shoved Kenny to his knees and pushed his belly against the side of Kenny's head, "have a listen."

Kenny struggled and tried to push Derek back, but he was stronger than he could have imagined. He grabbed Kenny by the neck again and lifted him to his feet.

"I think his name started with an 'A'," Derek said as he made a strange face. His stomach gurgled and a few seconds later he coughed up a slimy, half-digested wallet. He opened it and looked at the license inside and showed Kenny, "I was right! His name was Aaron." He popped the wallet back into his mouth and swallowed it, forcing Kenny to watch as his throat bulged when it went down effortlessly.

"You know, it's so nice not to have to fuck my meal first for a change. You wanna know a secret?"

Kenny was too stunned to speak and just gasped.

Derek leaned in and whispered in his ear, "do you wanna know a secret?"

Kenny let out a sob and shook his head.

"Well I'll tell you anyway. Men taste so much better when they're afraid. Are you afraid?"

Kenny nodded and let out another sob.

"You should be. I'm going to digest you alive."

"P-please," Kenny said sobbing again.

"It's gonna hurt the whole time."

Kenny panicked and tried to fight back but barely shook Derek's arm.

Derek changed his grip and lifted Kenny by the back of the neck with one hand and grabbed one leg with the other. He put the first foot in his mouth - shoe and all, and swallowed while he grabbed the other foot. He bent Kenny over as he started to drag him in, his knees scraping Derek's teeth.

"No, no no no! NO!" Kenny screamed as he tried to swing a punch. He missed every swing as Derek turned him, forcing his legs to cross as he continued to descend down Derek's throat. He was at his waist and Derek straightened up, speeding up the processes as gravity started to do most of the work.

"You can't do this! You can't! DON'T DO THIS!"

He pushed against Derek's face, but his throat was too strong as the steady pull of his esophagus and hard pulses from forceful swallows dragged him deeper. When he felt teeth on his chest, Kenny pushed hard on Derek's shoulders but he wouldn't budge, and a hard gulp pulled him in so far his arms could no longer bend all the way down.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!" Kenny screamed as Derek gave another swallow, bringing Kenny's head into his jaws.

"SOMEONE PLEASE! HE'S EATING ME! PL-" Kenny's voice was suddenly muffled as Derek took another swallow, dragging his head into his throat. A few more gulps and all that remained outside were his hands. Derek walked over to the couch before the final swallow and plopped down. He gave one last very difficult gulp and felt Kenny's fingers disappear into his body.

As Kenny's body slipped under his rib cage and into the wider part of his stomach, Derek felt his entire center of gravity change. He pulled the lever on the couch to pop out the chair and leaned back as he felt Kenny's hand slip past the valve to his stomach, sealing him in permanently.

Kenny began to thrash as Derek turned on the TV and cracked open a beer. He chugged half the can and gave his enormous belly a rub. "Shouldn't've gotten involved bud."

Derek leaned his chair forward slightly so he could see over his gut, but after a few minutes of watching Kenny struggle and fight he leaned back again to watch.

He looked over at the box of beer cans and remembered Josh. He reached for his phone and punched in the number, hoping Josh wouldn't block him for calling.

"Hey it's Josh."

"Hey, it's Derek, from earlier."

"Oh, hey, didn't uh. Didn't expect you to call."

"Yeah uh. Well earlier you asked if I wanted to uh. Have dinner."

Derek blushed a little when he heard the voice on the other line laugh softly, "yeah, you feeling hungry mate?"

"Oh, well, I ate a pretty big meal."

"Yeah I remember you looked pretty full when I saw you earlier."

Derek grinned, "I mean I ate again just a minute ago."

Josh laughed, "Twice in one day?"

"Yeah, I didn't think I would be able to but I got it down. I was wondering if you want to come over for uh... dessert."

"Mate I'll level with you, I'm bad at the double-meaning thing, you askin if I want to come over for a good fuck?"

Derek laughed hard, "yeah, pretty much."

Josh laughed back, "alright yeah that sounds fucking great. Text me your address."

"Alright, see you in a bit then."

Derek texted Josh the address as Kenny thrashed in his stomach. He leaned back and finished off his beer, stretching as his stomach gurgled happily.

Part 2 Coming Soon!

#male pred #male vore #gay vore #m/m vore #unwilling prey #same size vore

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youunravelme · 10 months

Text

to all the girls you've loved before part 5

author's note: this might be the softest part out of all of them? sorry for the wait, i hope the fluff makes up for it. :)

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, very volatile/toxic relationship

day forty-four

"does this look okay?" mat popped his head in your room where you were sitting on your bed with a book in your lap.

"you look like you normally do."

he ran a hand down his face. "i mean, is it appropriate to wear to a doctor's appointment?"

oh shit.

you forgot.

you jumped off the bed and ran into the walk in closet.

"did you forget?" mat teased. any sign of insecurity at his outfit choice disappeared when you sprinted into the closet.

"would you believe me if i said no?"

he laughed. "not a chance." he cleared his throat. "let me go wake ella up and get her ready."

you pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater as well as thick socks and shoes. you walked out, nearly running into mat and ella in the hallway.

ella immediately perked up at seeing you and reached for you while mat rolled his eyes.

"can't believe she loves you more."

"i'm with her all day," you quipped. but the second the words left your mouth, you were backpedaling. "not to say that you're an absent father!" you amended. "i just mean that i live here and i take care of her when you're not here, so she sees me more and--"

mat's laughter cut you off. he placed a strong hand on your shoulder and squeezed. "i didn't take it that way, relax." and like nothing happened, he continued down the hall to the living room.

a sigh escaped your lips the second his touch was gone.

it was another ten minutes before the three of you left. originally, you were stunned that he asked you to join him in the first place, but when mat explained how confused he and tito were for that the first doctor's appointment, it made more sense.

everyone needed an emotional support friend.

you had a whole crew of them help move you out of your old apartment.

even the thought of that day made you want to tear up again. you'd never been one for having a large group of friends, usually just a close few. but after graduating college, after your school friends moved away from the city, somewhere along the way, you stopped picking up your phone to text them.

which was how you landed in your former apartment with natalie. she was a friend of a friend, and easy enough to live with.

until she fucked your boyfriend.

so when mat, tito, sydney, and marty all helped you move out? even after only knowing the latter two for less than twenty-four hours?

they put your old friends to shame.

"what's going on in that mind of yours?" mat asked. "you got quiet." you shrugged. "oh come on, you're thinking about something! i can see the wheels turning in your head."

"you sound like my mother."

mat guffawed and laughed at the same time in a sound that you wanted to commit to memory. "your mother? should i be offended?"

you smiled despite yourself. "she's alright."

"she must be if she raised you."

you crossed your arms. "you're such a flatterer."

"only for you."

you ignored the weird fluttering sensation in your gut and rolled your eyes. "wait till i tell tito that you like me more."

mat groaned and ran a hand over his mouth. "please don't, i get enough shit from him as it is."

interesting.

you turned in your seat to face him a little more. "and what shit would he be giving the great mathew barzal? spending too long on your hair? being too talented? having too many female fans?"

as you came to a stoplight, mat rubbed the back of his neck, looking increasingly more uncomfortable with your line of questioning. "not necessarily..." he trailed off.

but you ignored his signs of hesitancy and kept pressing on. "i bet it's about you being a dilf."

if the car was moving, you'd bet money that mat would've slammed on the brakes. but you were currently still sitting at the stoplight, so he just looked at you with an expression that boarded on shocked and horrified.

"a what?"

"surely, you know what a dilf is, mat."

he sputtered. "i mean i uh know what it is--"

"then why are you so flustered?" you asked, leaning on the center console.

"just wasn't expecting you to say that is all."

"i'm sure you and your teammates have said worse in the locker room."

"yeah but that's them and you're you and--" he cut himself off and chose to wave his hands in the air like that action alone would fill in the blanks.

"and what?"

mat accelerated as the light turned green. "i just didn't know you saw me that way."

you shrugged and sat back in your seat, ignoring the way your heart raced at the way the conversation took a turn. "don't tell me i'm the first person to say you're attractive, mat."

"well, no, but--"

"so what's the big deal? it's just me."

mat shrugged. "exactly. it's you."

you froze momentarily, but tried to brush his comment off like it didn't send a shiver down your spine.

the both of you were silent for the rest of the ride.

when you got to the doctor's office, both you and mat got out, with mat offering to carry ella into the building. though, the three of you made it twenty feet before ella was whining for you.

"my own child likes you more," he grumbled.

you just laughed.

the waiting room was semi full when the three of you walked in, but mat was the only dad in sight.

he leaned down towards you with a hand on the small of your back. "i'll go check us in if you'll find us a seat."

you did as he asked and ignored the way you could feel his touch long after he walked away. you and ella found a seat in a corner away from most of the women and children there. did you look antisocial? maybe just a little, but you weren't taking chances of ella or yourself getting sick, and you sure as hell weren't taking a chance on mat's health with the season in full swing.

"didn't want to sit with the other families?" mat asked as he took the seat next to you.

"i don't know those people, why would i sit next to them? they could be sick."

mat nodded along. "fair enough."

the three of you only waited a few minutes before ella's name was called. you stood up but it was mat who gestured for you to lead, again, with his hand on your back guiding you.

the nurse took a few vitals before taking the three of you back to the room. "the doctor will be with you shortly," she said before leaving you, mat, and ella alone.

it wasn't long before you heard another knock on the door and the doctor came in. she greeted the three of you before getting right down to business, directing you to place ella on the table.

doctor stevenson took ella's vitals while she wriggled around and reached for you and mat. "vitals look good," she said. "now she does need to have a few vaccines today..." the doctor kept talking but you were focused on mat.

specifically how all the color drained from his face.

you placed your hand on his back and directed him to one of the open chairs in the room, scared he might pass out if he stayed standing.

"is everything alright?" the doctor asked.

mat sat down and exhaled. "are you sure she has to get shots today?"

doctor stevenson's face looked grim. "do you not like needles or...?"

"i don't like seeing my daughter cry," he admitted.

"that's completely normal for parents," the doctor assured him. "if you'd like, you can stay out in the hall and we'll let you know when we're done. should only take a few minutes, if that."

you weren't listening to the doctor though, your eyes were focused on mat's face. a deep set frown worked its way onto his lips and you hated it. you reached out and touched his shoulder. "i can stay with her, if you don't wanna be in the room," you said.

his eyes met yours; for a man as confident as he was, you'd never seen him so hesitant. "last time she got shots, it about broke me."

"that's okay," you said. "i'll be here if you wanna step outside. i'll still be here if you wanna stay."

he nodded and stood up. for a second, you thought he'd make his way to the door, but he stood by the table and kissed the top of ella's head. "it's gonna be okay, ella bean," he mumbled.

doctor stevenson looked at you before pulling out the needles. you saw how mat kept eyeing them in the corner of his eye, but kept his focus on ella who was babbling like nothing was going on.

it took a few seconds after the first injection before the water works started. ella's cry sounded throughout the room but instead of looking at her, your eyes were focused on mat.

he was completely enraptured by ella, whispering soft things to her in an attempt to soothe her.

"it's okay, ella. dada's here," he whispered. "it's okay."

she kept crying despite the calm voice mat was using. she was twisting towards him and away from the doctor.

"just one more," doctor stevenson said. and in a minute, she was finished.

but ella wasn't.

the second the needle was pulled out and the band aids were placed, mat was picking ella up and cradling her to his chest. she wailed and wailed, only calming down when mat was bouncing her and speaking softly in her ear.

you halfway listened to doctor stevenson talk about what percentile of weight and height ella was in, half of your attention was focused on the gentle way mat was holding his daughter and how his arms, as strong as they were, protected his child from the big, bad, scary needles.

you were free to follow the nurse out the door to checkout. mat refused to let go of ella, so you were the one scheduling the next appointment and entering it into your shared google calendar.

ella was still hiccuping from the crying by the time the three of you got to the car. mat strapped her in while you got in the front seat and looked through the paperwork they gave you.

"everything look alright?" mat asked as he got in his seat and locked the doors.

"yeah, she's right as rain. i added the next appointment to our calendar."

mat hummed.

"what?" you asked.

"our calendar?"

"we share a calendar, mat. that was your idea, if you recall." you weren't about to be embarrassed about something he initiated. why would you? it's just a calendar, not something with an underlying meaning.

"i know," he smiled. "i just like the sound of it, is all." he put the car in reverse and placed his hand on your headrest.

"weirdo," you mumbled to compensate for the fact that you also liked referring to something as mundane as a calendar as ours.

mat scoffed. "i'm not the weirdo. you're the weirdo."

"oh please, i have an entire roster of your teammates that would say otherwise."

"you would trust their word over mine?"

you shrugged. "majority rules."

you didn't think someone could roll their eyes as hard as mat did in that moment.

the three of you got home a few minutes later. mat was in charge of getting ella while you grabbed his keys. you both waved to the doorman and headed up to your shared apartment.

god, you loved saying that more than you probably should.

"are you still going out with syd later?" mat called after you when you got into the apartment. you were headed back to your room while he was putting ella in the play pin.

you stripped out of your clothes and changed into something more comfortable. "yeah!" you called back, walking back down the hallway to the living room. "why?"

"tito and anders invited me out for drinks, so i'll need to find a babysitter."

"i can ask grace if she knows anyone--"

"don't. i'm the one who needs the sitter, it's my responsibility, not yours."

ella babbled in what you assumed was agreement.

later that day, you heard mat getting ready in his room while you got dressed in yours with ella playing on the floor with her toys. you weren't dressed in anything too fancy, just a nice black dress that had been sitting in the back of your old closet because your roommate said it was "too slutty for someone who has a boyfriend."

then she went and fucked your boyfriend, so you couldn't really say you gave a shit about her opinion anymore.

you strapped some heels on and gave yourself a once over in the mirror, fluffing your hair when it looked too flat. you scooped ella up and made a mental note to bring her toys out to her play pin later when you got back.

if you could even walk straight.

you weren't planning on getting shitfaced, but does anyone over the age of 23 ever plan on it?

you carried ella down the hallway and into the living room where mat sat on the couch on his phone with espn playing on the tv.

"i thought you'd eventually get tired of all the sports talk," you commented.

mat didn't even look up, he just liked a random person's photo. "it's nice background noise. besides, they're talking about sports other than just hockey."

"right." you walked in front of him to put ella in her play pin, your heels clicking on the hardwood. it wasn't until you turned around that you saw him staring. "what?"

mat cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "nothing! you just look...nice."

you smiled. "thank you! syd should be here any minute now. where did i put my phone..." your voice trailed off as you looked around for your cell phone.

"it's on the coffee table," mat said. and low and behold, it was. "do you have a coat? it's supposed to get cold tonight."

you nodded and headed to the coat closet beside the front door. you grabbed the black peacoat you had since college and tried to put it on before a pair of hands stopped you.

"let me help," was all mat said as he held the coat open for you. it took you a second to register what he was saying, he had to clear his throat to get you to snap back to reality.

"thanks," you said as you put your arms in the sleeves. your phone started ringing a second later, sydney's contact photo taking over your screen. "are you sure you don't want me to wait until she gets here?" you asked, talking about the babysitter. "i can help explain ella's routine!"

but mat rolled his eyes and herded you closer to the door. ""i'll be fine, go have fun!"

"if you need me, text me."

he gave you an award winning smile. "if you need me, call me."

you nodded and walked out, picking up the phone as mat locked the door behind you. "hey, i'm on my way down."

"great! i have an uber waiting for us."

you walked a little faster to the elevator, determined to not let the uber run up more money than was necessary, despite the fact that sydney was not strapped for cash.

you made it down quickly and without busting your ass on the polished floor.

sydney was waiting in a black suv like she was some government official in a marvel movie. she popped the back door open when she saw you and smiled. "you look fantastic!" she said once you got inside the vehicle.

you looked over her outfit which wasn't too dissimilar to yours, just not as revealing. "grace is joining us, hope that's okay!"

you nodded, vaguely recalling meeting anders' wife when jason had that meltdown in front of everyone.

not the best first impression, you hoped tonight would make her forget about that first night.

grace met you and sydney at a bar about twenty minutes away from yours and mat's apartment. she smiled as the two of you got out of the car, hugging you instead of shaking your proffered hand.

"it's great to see you again," she said. "you look fantastic."

"so do you!" you replied.

the three of you walked into the bar and were immediately greeted by loud music and an enormous crowd. you pushed your way through the people and ended up in front of the bar.

"get what you want!" sydney yelled over the music. "it's on me, tonight."

it didn't seem like a lot, but when you thought back to how jason and natalie both would conveniently go out with you on nights when they were broke, and then proceed to ask you to fund their near alcohol addiction? you were immensely grateful. if you were a pettier woman, you would've venmoed natalie and jason for the money they owe you in drinks alone.

but you were moving on, making peace with your new situation, your job, your new friends.

and mat.

you weren't sure what category to put him in yet.

"boss" seemed too professional. "friend" didn't seem heavy enough.

"what're you having?" the bartender's question snapped you out of your reflective moment. you gave him the order and watched as he started to make it.

your drink was in front of you after you waited for a few minutes. you sipped at it while walking to the table grace had picked out.

"so how's it going, living with mat?" grace asked as soon as you walked up.

you shrugged lightly. "not as bad as i thought it would be. i was expecting it to be awkward, but it's just been nice not to have to wake up as early to go to work."

sydney nodded. "matt told me barzy looks happier since you moved in."

"anders too," grace added. "my husband said he needs to 'meet this girl who has barzy smiling like a fool.'"

you flushed at their statements. "he's a good guy," was all you said.

sydney and grace were talking amongst themselves while you bopped your head to the music playing. you supped on your drink when a familiar head of hair caught you eye. it was followed by another familiar head of hair. you were squinting, trying to remember where you'd seen them before when they turned around your heart stopped.

jason and natalie.

you choked on your drink which caught sydney and grace's attention.

"are you okay?" sydney asked. she only grew more concerned when you threw your drink back, the alcohol barely burning your throat in comparison to the pain in your chest.

"i'm gonna get some shots," you said before stumbling to the bar. you ordered four shots of vodka and downed them all in succession at the bar top, and then doing your best to get back to the table afterwards.

your heart was pounding as you saw them cozied up in a booth. you wanted to vomit. you wanted to cry. you wanted to go over there and pour their drinks on their heads.

but mostly, you just wanted to go home.

but you couldn't. not when the night was still young. not when you were still feeling sober. you'd stupidly thought that the four shots would get you drunk quickly because you forgot that metabolisms exist.

you did your best to keep up with the conversation grace and sydney were having, and it was clear they were trying to include you. but your gaze kept drifting to how happy jason and natalie looked. and wondering how long they'd gone on dates when you were busy working, how many times did the sleep together before you caught them? you wondered if they were in love? or if it was just lust.

you wondered what made you so unloveable that he'd cheat on you. you wondered how despicable of a person you were that your roommate would agree to it.

you weren't drunk enough for this.

you excused yourself from the table again to get another drink. as you waited, you tapped your fingers on the bar, humming to the top 40s playlist playing over the speakers.

"can i get a jack and coke?" that voice sent a shiver down your spine in the worst way. you hesitantly turned your head and saw jason standing next to you, thankfully with natalie nowhere in sight. you didn't know what you'd do if they were both there with you in that moment.

he must've felt your stare because he turned his head and made eye contact. his jaw clenched a little before his lips curved into a sly smirk. "well look what the cat dragged out," he said. "where is he?"

you blinked.

"c'mon. like you don't know who i'm talking about?" when you didn't say anything, he rolled his eyes. "barzal. where is he?" jason glanced around the bar. "because i don't see him anywhere."

"why would he be here? mat's not my boyfriend."

"right, he's just letting you stay with him for free because he's such a good person," he teased.

maybe it was the shot placed in front of you. maybe it was the other four shots kicking in. but you downed the drink, wiped your mouth and shot back at him. "he's a better person than you could ever hope to be."

"he'll get bored of you eventually. people always do," jason scoffed. "you're his nanny, for fuck's sake. if you're not fucking him, he'll realize he could get better pussy and a better looking face from literally any other girl in new york. and once he realizes that, you'll be homeless and jobless."

you shook your head, willing the stinging in your eyes to go away. "he's not like you, jason."

"he's not gonna fall in love with you. you're a no good bitch who didn't know what she had when she had it. and i'm glad we're done, natalie is a thousand times more interesting than you could ever hope to be." with that, he turned on his heel with his shitty drink and walked back to his booth.

you walked back to your table but before you could even register the water running down your face, sydney was pulling you into her arms as you sobbed.

"sweetheart what's wrong?"

you could barely get the words out to tell her, but as soon as you did, she was pulling you back and looking you in the eyes. "i'm gonna call mat, is that okay?"

"please call him," you said. sydney brought you back into her chest with one arm while her other hand dialed mat.

"mat! hey!" she said with an overly cheery voice. "are you busy?"

just the sound of his voice, even if it was sounded like a small whisper, made you feel a little safer. she continued to talk to him through the phone until she hung up and hugged you tighter.

"he'll be here soon and take you home, okay?"

you nodded into her shoulder and cried a little more. "i'm sorry for ruining your night."

sydney squeezed you a little closer. "it's not your fault. your ex is a piece of shit."

mat must've texted syd a few minutes later because she was ushering you out of the bar to stand on the sidewalk.

it was a matter of seconds before mat pulled up and hopped out of his car looking like a man on a mission. in a blink of an eye you were being pulled out of sydney's arms (or maybe she was pushing you) and into his.

you could've sworn your life made a little more sense right then and there.

"mat--" you sobbed. "i--i can't--" and to be honest, you weren't quite sure what you meant to say, words weren't stringing themselves together like they usually do. maybe you were trying to say you couldn't keep doing this, or that you couldn't understand why he still kept you around.

it could be a million things.

but he kissed the top of your head and your brain was silenced. "let's get you home, okay?"

mat put you in the car and held your hand the entire way home, stroking his thumb on the back of your hand in a way jason never did.

jason.

you wanted to vomit but the interior of mat's car was too nice and he already ditched his friends for you, the least you could do was keep it together.

"do you wanna talk about it?" he asked.

you shook your head no, so he squeezed your hand.

when you finally got back to the apartment, you stood in the living room in a catatonic state while mat paid the babysitter and ushered her out. the second the front door closed, he was by your side, taking your hand, and leading you to the bathroom where he turned on the shower. when he made a move to leave, you grabbed his hand.

"i'm just gonna grab you some clothes, i'll be right back."

he was back in thirty seconds with one of his shirts and a pair of sweats. you were brought back to the first night you slept over after your relationship blew up. you should've smiled and said thank you, you should've said you appreciated all mat had done.

but you just burst into more tears.

mat knelt in front of you, wiping the tears as fast as they came. "hey, what's wrong?"

before you could even stop and think, you were launching yourself into his arms and wrapping your own around his shoulders. he didn't even hesitate to hold you back as tightly as he could.

"you're okay," he said. "i'll be right outside when you're done, alright?"

you nodded against his shoulder and hesitantly pulled away. mat seemed just as reluctant to let you go, but the steam fogging the mirror reminded you both that there was a line you hadn't (and maybe shouldn't) cross.

mat shut the bathroom door behind him and you stripped out of your clothes.

it was the fastest shower you'd ever taken in your life.

true to his word, mat was outside the bathroom door when you were finished in a set of sweats he wasn't wearing before. he looked up from his phone and held his arms out, and for what felt like the fiftieth time (though that still did not feel like enough), you were in his arms again.

"let's get you to bed," he mumbled into your hair before placing another kiss there.

before you could stop yourself, you mumbled back. "can i sleep with you tonight?"

mat froze.

hell, you froze.

neither of you knew what to do.

but a minute later he was pulling away. you felt the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of him rejecting you, but what did you honestly expect? him to say yes? you moved to go down the hall to your room, but his grip on your hand stopped you.

"c'mon," was all he said.

up until this moment, you'd never been in mat's room. it was about what you expected, king bed in the middle of the room, a dresser, a few clothes strewn about. it looked lived in.

mat got in the bed first and extended his arms to you. it was like he was the center of the earth, pulling you in with such a strong gravitational pull, you stood no chance to resist it.

you were curled up against his chest a beat later.

"thank you," you said.

"anytime," he said against your hair.

your head was placed right over his chest where his heart beat loudly. the sound of it began lulling you to sleep.

it should've been a picturesque moment, but it was tainted by the lingering anxiety in the back of your mind.

was jason right? was this a bad decision? would mat kick you out if you never have sex with him? would he kick you out if you did?

but then mat started running a hand over your hair and down your back repeatedly, and all your worries disappeared.

you'd have more time to think about that tomorrow.

taglist:

@nicoleloveshockey @thg02 @fallinallincurls @bbbbruins @random-readers-world @sydsxoxo @jhughesy @whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @matthewkniesys @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe @diary-of-jj @literatureluster @dani746

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader

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bibittybopittybadbxtch · 2 months

Text

Dinner and a Heart Attack

Summary: You make a questionable decision while making dinner and Wonwoo catches you in the act.

Pairing: Wonwoo x Pregant! Reader

Word Count: 578

A/N: Hi lovies! Just a little Wonwoo for the timeline. I’m OT13 for Seventeen so picking who got my first fic was a tough one. But i had this prompt saved in my drafts and it screamed Wonwoo. So here’s a gift from me to you! please be kind. not proof read. written on my phone. You know the deal lol.

XOXO, BiBi🩷

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

NOT MY GIF

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You wanted to surprise your sweet husband. Wonwoo was on his way home and you were making his favorite meal. It had been a long week for him. Prepping for the upcoming tour and rearranging choreography to accommodate two absent members. He needed a treat. So you decided to give him just that. It’s an old family recipe. You could mostly make it from memory but you always got stuck towards the end. You kept your grandmothers cook book on the top shelf, away from the wear and tear of daily life. The only problem was Wonwoo was the one who usually got it down for you. At 5 months pregnant you weren’t necessarily as nimble as you used to be but climbing on the counter couldn’t be that difficult. So you made sure the counter was clear before climbing on to it.

The scene the welcomes Wonwoo as he enters this house is certainly unexpected and absolutely unwelcome. Upon entering the house he gets a clear view of you. His gorgeous loving wife, on the counter. He doesn't think his body just moves. He rushes into the kitchen and sweeps you off the counter and sets you on your feet. You’re taken by surprise. You hadn’t heard him come in, and didn’t expect him for another half hour. "Hi Baby" you greet him with a smile, getting on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. Wonwoo doesn’t return your affection. He is staring down at you completely stunned. "Are you okay?" you are both puzzled and concerned by hid reaction. He takes a deep breath while running a hand through his hair. “Gorgeous, what on earth were you doing on the counter” He asks after he’s finally collected his thoughts. “Oh, I was trying to get the recipe book down” You don’t think much of it and turn back to the stove to stir your pot. “I can never remember how much gochujang it requires.”

Wonwoo can’t help but smile at you. He knows you mean well, but your tendency to disregard your own safety troubles him. “Baby, I appreciate you cooking my favorite meal so much. I love you. You take such amazing care of me. Could you spare some of that care for yourself?” He pulls you into his embrace and rests his chin and your head. That’s when it clicks. That look in his eyes when he first walked in. Fear. He was scared. “Woo, I promise. I was being careful. Don’t worry.” You try reassuring him even though you know he’s right. “It’s not just you I’m worried about. It’s the baby. You know you’re clumsy. You almost gave me a heart attack.” You pull back to smile at your husband and adjust the glasses on his face. “I promise to wait next time.” You tell him as he moves his hands to your growing belly. He kneels to have a whispered conversation with your unborn child before returning to his full height. “What was that about?” You ask unable to hide your smile. “I just told him that I hope he inherits my coordination.” He laughs at the expression on your face before turning to the stove. “Sweet and Spicy Chicken? I’ve been craving it all week.” He places a swift kiss on your cheek. “Thank you so much, but no more counters deal?” “Deal.” You agree as he reaches up with ease and grabs the recipe book.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #fluff #reader insert #reader imagine #jeon wonwoo

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader has agreed to go out with Dean for one date only but is pretty sure he's just a flirt looking to get in her pants. But Dean is more than he seems and may be the first person she can have a truly honest conversation with in a long time...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: I think I gave them too much trauma tbh...oh well!

_________

Eric rapped his knuckles on the doorframe of your home studio but didn’t do anything further to disturb you. You were absently plucking away on a guitar, something quiet and simple, your head spaced out as you listened to the notes over and over. You weren’t sure how it fit just yet but you liked the melody enough to jot it down in a notebook.

“That’s going to be a number one hit someday,” he said. You shrugged, setting the guitar to the side, closing your eyes. “You okay, kid?”

“The team says I’m behind on the next album. I don’t even have a single song,” you sighed. You felt him plop down on the couch beside you, your eyes peeling open, finding his stern ones looking back.

“The whole point of you ditching your first label and doing things through your team is so you’d be in control. You put out a fucking album in March. It’s September. When the hell were you supposed to be writings these songs? During the four hours of sleep a night you got while on tour the past six months?”

“Eric,” you shushed him, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m just venting. If I need you to kick someone’s ass I’ll let you know, alright?”

“Just don’t let them bully you,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. “You ready for this charity date shit?”

“I’ll happily take Dean’s ten million dollars for an hour of suffering. His fault he threw so many touchdowns last night,” you said, Eric pulling you up. “Is everything settled?”

“We rented out the restaurant. The only people inside will be the two of you, myself and his head of security. Apparently he’s famous enough he has his own protection agent, albeit he doesn’t tend to listen to them.” You saw a twinge of annoyance on his face but let it go, instead following him out and down the hall, Eric giving you a side eye. “Aren’t you going to get ready for your date?”

You slid past him and over to your front closet, shoving your feet into a pair of converse. “The man’s seen me in sweats and a hoodie. A Stones t-shirt and skinny jeans should be a step up for him.”

You swiped your crossbody bag from the front table, Eric sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting at a curved booth in a nice italian restaurant. Ordinarily, you never would have rented out a whole place for just yourself. But you were pissed off at your team for trying to get you to capitalize off Dean wanting a date. He seemed like a genuine fan and you’d have a conversation with him for how much he’d donated to the charity. You’d had a long conversation with them last night, with some backup from Eric over it all.

Either they backed off or you’d find a new manager, agent, PR rep, all of it. You’d done it before when you were younger and you had no problem doing it again.

Between you and Eric, you were pretty sure they were going to back off on the Dean front, at least for now.

You couldn’t help but stare when Dean came into view through the back of the restaurant. He was in a flannel and henley, dark jeans on his long legs. He smiled when he saw you but stopped short when Eric stepped in front of him. He said something you couldn’t hear, Dean flashing a wink that made Eric’s eye twitch. Dean kept approaching though, Eric now in a hushed argument with a woman in jeans and blazer that’d trailed in after Dean.

“Please don’t give my bodyguard an aneurysm. He already thinks you’re sketchy,” you said as Dean slid into the booth with a big grin.

“Oh he’ll warm up to me.” We both turned our heads at raised voices, Eric and Dean’s bodyguard going at it.

“Moron!” Eric shouted, your eyebrows raised. You didn’t have time to question his sudden lack of professionalism before she was shouting back he was a dickhead.

“Everything alright over there?” called Dean, Eric and the woman giving each other death glares before storming off to opposite sides of the restaurant. “Okay…well I’ve never seen Sloane act like that before.”

“Eric either. Weird.” You heard rustling and glanced at Dean, that silly smile still on his face. “You do understand I’m only here because you literally bought your way into a date.”

“True but I like giving to charity and if I get a date with the girl I’ve had a crush on since college, what’s the harm in that?” he teased. You crossed your arms, leaning back in your seat, his smile faltering.

“Yeah see, that’s creepy. So talk about whatever it is you want to talk about and then we can go our separate ways, alright?” He was frowning now, keeping his hands under the table. There was an still beat. Not awkward but…sad almost. “Just-”

“You think I’m creepy?” he scoffed. You shrugged, Dean’s smile returning but laced with something mean. “Because I asked for a picture?”

“No-”

“Because I posted about going to a concert which fifty thousand other people did that same night?”

“That’s not-”

“Because I gave you my number? Was that my creepy offense? Because I’m surely the first man to-”

“Okay, you know what?” you said, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at his ridiculously pretty face. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You might be famous but you aren’t my level of famous. Everywhere in the fucking world people know who I am. Pushy men that give their number and call you their crush and basically publicly shame you into going out with them for money? Yeah, that’s fucking creepy, Winchester.”

Surprisingly, he only sat back in his seat, breathing slowly. “I’m sorry then. Just let me say one thing and then I’ll get up and leave and you never have to talk to me again.”

You unfolded your arms, offering a small nod. Dean bit his bottom lip, letting it go slowly, his chest raising and falling softly.

“You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen when I walked into that house party my sophomore year. It was the second weekend of the semester and I’d just played my first game as quarterback. I was the backup for our school you know. I was supposed to ride the bench but Dallas got hurt…” he trailed off as you stared at him. “Doesn’t matter. But I remember that party and I remember hearing you singing along to a guitar outside by the fire pit. You uh, you had your hair in a messy bun just like it is right now. You were wearing a Kansas hoodie that was way too big for you and you had on these nike sweatpants and obnoxious orange sneakers like you didn’t give a fuck how you looked. You had no idea how stunning you were.”

You glanced down. You remembered those sneakers. You’d only worn them a few times before your roommate accidentally lost them.

“Your voice was beautiful. It still is but I’m a little sad you never do anything acoustic like you would back then. Still doesn’t matter,” he said, pausing a beat. “This isn’t a brag but girls threw themselves at me at that party. Every day after that game they did. But the only girl I wanted to get to know, wouldn’t say more than hi because I was a jock. And it took a long time for me to understand why but I do. Because I hate myself too.”

You flicked your gaze up and met his, green eyes boring into yours. You parted your lips but no words came, Dean nodding, a sad smile on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault. Your volleyball practice ran late. Your brother wasn’t your fault.” You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced away. “You hated sports after that. I read an interview that you thought sports were silly once. But I understand why. You don’t hate sports. You hate what they did to you and back then, every student athlete was just a guy that could hurt you or worse, he could get hurt too. I understand hating yourself. I was supposed to be there for my brother too but I stayed at school and fucked it all up. So I get why in college you wouldn’t give me the time of day when all I wanted was one date with the girl that made my heart skip.”

Fingers grazed your chin, cupping it gently as he forced your head up.

“But I am not creepy for you still making my heart skip and wanting a date. We’re not kids anymore, Y/N. You don’t like me then fine, but give me a chance. Don’t push me out because I’m still a guy who plays sports.”

You gently pushed his hand away, Dean sighing. “Maybe you have a point about the kinds of guys I found attractive in college. The crush isn’t what’s…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “You have had a lot of girlfriends Dean and I mean a lot. You have a new girl every week. It’s clear we are two very different kinds of people. You hookup. I don’t. I’m like a conquest or some shit because you couldn’t get me in college. That’s why we’re not talking after this…whatever the hell this is, again.”

Dean cocked his head, eyes roaming over your body. “So you won’t go out with me because you think I only want to fuck you?”

“Am I wrong?” you asked. He chuckled, his face more lively.

“Sweetheart, I’ll admit, I’d enjoy doing a lot of things with you,” he grinned. “But…I’ll make you a promise. I won’t do anything with you, won’t even fucking kiss you, until you want me to.”

“You realized what you’ve described is friendship?” He shrugged.

“We can call it that if you prefer.” You were still under his careful watch, Dean leaning forward. “But know that when you do eventually fall in love with me I’m so going to rub your face in it.”

“And there’s the cocky flirt,” you said, nodding to yourself.

“Just stating facts,” he said, flashing you a wink as he tucked his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes, Dean enjoying this far too much. “So-”

“Here’s how this works,” you said, grabbing a menu and sliding it over to him.

“Love a woman in charge,” he teased. You growled, his eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, the princess of pop has a temper. I think I like this sassy side.”

“We eat lunch and we try to be friends,” you said ignoring him. “Anything beyond that is yet to be determined. Are we clear?”

“Oh absolutely,” he grinned. You groaned, gripping your own menu tight. “You’re too fun to tease. I’m only going to keep doing it.”

“Keep it up and see how far that gets you, Winchester,” you grumbled. He stood abruptly, your eyes widening as he slid in next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “What are-”

Hot breath fanned over your ear as you felt rumbling in your chest from his deep laugh. “Sweetheart, I’ll stop teasing the day you stop blushing when I do it.”

You turned your head, Dean’s merely a few inches from your own. He looked fucking cocky and sexy with that know it all smile.

You hated that you were having more fun with his flirting than you had with a guy in a long time.

“Plus we both got that whole older sibling trauma, insane career pressure thing going on. I mean, match made in heaven right here,” he said, booping your nose. “Fuck, how are you hot and cute at the same time? No wonder the whole world loves you.”

You didn’t mean to but your eyes welled up with tears, Dean instantly pulling his arm back. You shook your head, wiping your face off with the back of your hand. “It’s not you. It’s just…that’s the second time you’ve brought up the thing we’re not…talking about. You know, our brothers. Do you…want to talk about it?”

Dean nodded. “After lunch…and somewhere private if that’s okay.”

“I can agree to that, even if our bodyguards won’t.”

“His house?” groaned Eric thirty minutes later. “His house, Y/N? You don’t know-”

“I don’t but you’ll be there and he needs to talk to someone about his brother and maybe I need a friend that’s not you that I can too. I’ve already made it clear to him that he and I are strictly friends.” Eric mumbled something but relented, the driver following after Dean’s SUV and to his home, only a short drive from your own.

Dean was waiting by the front door when you got out of the SUV, smiling as he opened it up. Eric went straight for Sloane who was nearby, the two of them bickering like cats and dogs, Dean shutting the door after them.

“Those two must have history,” he said, showing you down a front hall and through the middle of his open kitchen and living room, straight through a back door to a patio. You swore you could hear them arguing as you took a seat on an outdoor couch under an umbrella.

“I don’t think Eric’s dated since high school. Maybe they knew each other in the military or something,” you said, Dean humming.

“Could be. Sloane’s pretty much on her own too aside from the occasional hookup,” he said, sitting nearby on the couch. The air was quiet for a few moments as you took in Dean’s backyard, fairly quaint for LA standards, especially NFL quarterback standards.

“Whatever happened with you and Sam, it wasn’t your fault either.” He smiled, titling his head.

“I was supposed to go home that weekend and hangout with him. I was too damn hungover to though so I didn’t. If I’d gone home he wouldn’t have been walking home at night by himself. It wouldn’t have happened to him so it is my fault.”

You closed your eyes. “Well, I was late picking up Max and he walked home at night too so either we were both at fault or neither one of us was.”

“You were late from practice. Your coach made you late, not-”

“We were late because I got to practice late because I was making out with our fucking quarterback in the art room.” You felt him shift closer, arm around your shoulders as you forced yourself to look at him. “I didn’t hate athletes, Dean. I hated that because I was too busy kissing one, my little brother’s life was ruined. We’re old enough to know that it could have happened at any time, whether we were there or not.”

“I know,” he said quietly. You tentatively wrapped your arms around his waist, Dean smiling. “I never knew anyone else that had someone taken from them.”

“Me either. I mean I’ve met some through the charity but no one that knows…”

“The world thinks you’re perfect because you’re good at your job and you smile for a camera.” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “My friend Benny said you talked to him in english about Sammy.”

“I remember him. He was cute,” you said, Dean growling. “Someone jealous?”

“I’m the one pining after you, remember?” He laughed quietly, his long fingers brushing against your exposed arm. “He didn’t tell me until yesterday. I was on edge a lot back then. Even now Sam’s a touchy subject.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He shook his head.

“You’re different. You know how hopeless it feels, what it’s like to have a funeral without a body, without knowing for sure.” You hummed, giving him a gentle hug.

“From our parents perspective, I understand why. We know the statistics and after so many years missing, so many experts telling them their kid is gone-”

“They needed to try to move on,” he finished. His fingers stilled on your skin, his body tense. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. Not without knowing for sure.”

You smiled, turning your head to meet his own worried eyes. “Me either. Guess we have that unhealthy trait in common.”

“I don’t think we’re doing too bad for ourselves all things considered.” You stood up, taking a few steps away before turning on your heels. Dean’s face was neutral as you crossed your arms. “You don’t like me, do you.”

“I think…” you trailed off, trying to word this nicely. “I think all we have in common is we went to the same college and both have little brothers that were kidnapped. I am open to being friends, Dean. I am. But I don’t think what you want to happen here-”

“You’re wrong.” You frowned as he rose from his seat, stalking over slowly, eyeing you in a way that made you feel very warm all of a sudden. He didn’t stop until he was by your side, staring you down. “I can ignore the blushing, ignore how the second we’re in private you are holding onto me like we’ve known each other more than an hour. I can even ignore how you look at me with those big eyes and pouty lips like you want to climb me like a fucking tree.”

“That is not true.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting it up as he brought his face close, warm breath fawning over your face. “I don’t like you like that.”

“Yes you do and that scares you. I fuck away my fear of intamacy and you hide from it. That’s our problem, isn’t it. You and I hide differently. Well I’m done hiding and girl, you need to be done too. Don’t you get that we are safe for each other? I get that you are going to be nervous about this and you get that I’m not a tool. We can learn together, learn something that is not easy for anyone but especially people like us that have everything so damn publicized. Most of all we can trust each other unlike the rest of the world. We won’t hurt each other and you know it. You just won’t admit it. You won’t let yourself care for someone that isn’t capable of defending themselves. Why do you think your bodyguard is your best friend? You have got to give us-”

“Good god you never shut up,” you said, reaching up and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Dean’s lips were instantly moving against yours, not taking ownership of the kiss but giving as much pressure as you were giving.

Hands cupped your cheeks, holding you steady as he smiled, teasingly dipping his tongue inside the dark cavern of your mouth. Dean pulled away much too soon, green orbs staring down, the heat in them cutting right through your core.

“I strike a nerve, sweetheart?” he teased. You scoffed, Dean tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Or does my armchair psychology just turn you on?”

“I was simply trying to get you to shut up.”

“Oh. Well feel free to shut me up anytime you like.” You growled, Dean cupping your chin and pecking a softer kiss on you. You rose up on your tiptoes, Dean shushing you. “S’okay to admit you like traumatized cocky guys, princess.”

“You are insufferable,” you said, Dean smirking while you poked him in the ribs. “I never said I like you, Winchester.”

“Right,” he said, taking your hand and tugging you along after him. “Well come pretend to hate my company before I have to head to afternoon practice.”

“Insufferable.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Dean POV

“Hey,” I said late that night, answering my phone when I saw Y/N was calling. “You miss me already, sweetheart?”

“As if,” scoffed Y/N, quiet for a moment. “How was your practice?”

“Alright. How-”

“Just alright?” she interrupted. I raised my eyebrow, even if I was alone in my kitchen. Unlike Y/N, Sloane was the extent of my security team. Between her and myself, we had things covered. Sure, I was famous but it was different than being a pop star. I went to games that had security, a practice facility that had security, sets for commercials where they always had security. My home was in a gated community. The only reason Sloane was even on the payroll was peace of mind for my parents. She didn’t even go anywhere with me unless I asked.

“It was fine. Why?” I asked, Y/N going quiet again.

“Maybe I’m crazy but people that are in relationships generally ask how each other’s day went.” I closed my eyes, biting back a groan. “It’s already past eight. I should go.”

“Y/N-” The phone beeped, a glance down showing the call had ended. “Fuck me.”

I dialed her back, the phone picking up on the fourth ring, Y/N staying silent.

“Don’t hang up on me again.” She sighed softly, my stomach forming a knot. “Y/N…”

“I don’t think this is a good idea. We both have crazy schedules and-”

“I told you earlier you don’t have to be scared of me. I know that’s what this is. You want to get to know me. Why else would you call? But you want an out too. Well I’m not giving it to you so suck it up cause you’re stuck with me. Understand?”

The line was quiet before I heard a bed creak, followed by a thick swallow. “I never said I’d date you, Dean.”

“Well we are so get used to it.” She mumbled something I couldn’t make out, my stomach still sour. “I will not hurt you, Y/N. That’s a promise.”

“You went out with forty two different women so far this year. Forty two. You spend every weekend fucking a new woman while I…” she trailed off, her voice still to thick for my liking. Was she crying? Fighting back tears?

“What’s wrong, princess?” I asked gently, her voice hiccuping. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry Dean but I’m clearly not mature enough for any kind of relationship with you. Please forget this happened.” She hung up again, my stomach fully twisted up.

I was not going to let her fear stop her from living her damn life. I texted Sloane and two minutes later I was calling a different number, swallowing down my nerves.

“Dean Winchester,” said Eric, Y/N’s more than intimidating bodyguard. “Why the fuck are you calling me?”

“I need to know where Y/N lives. I want to go over and check on her.”

“What the fuck do you mean check on her?” he snapped, a loud scrape in the background like a chair falling over.

“She’s fine! She’s fine,” I said, Eric’s loud growl making my ear hurt. “She’s upset is all and-”

“Let me guess. You made her upset?” I swallowed.

“Not on purpose. I-”

“What did I say to you at the restaurant? What the fuck did I say to you?” he grit out. I sighed as I went to my front door and slipped on a pair of sneakers. “I said if you hurt her, I’d fucking make your life hell. And what did you do? Sounds like you fucking hurt her. You understand why the fuck I wouldn’t tell you where she lives?”

“Eric, if you want to beat the shit out of me or bury me in the backyard or do whatever the hell you want to me, then fine. Go ahead. But she’s sitting in her house crying right now and this is something you can’t fix. So save my murder until after I can make her feel better, alright?”

“I’d rather shoot my own dick off than tell your slutty ass where she lives. I will check on her-”

I grabbed my keys off the front table and went outside, squeezing my phone tight. “Has she ever had a boyfriend?”

“Why the fuck-”

“Because you know as much as I have she hasn’t, not since Max was taken. She is scared of getting close to people and you know it. You’re the one person that’s been by her side since she got famous, aren’t you? I am asking you as someone that cares about her, as people that both care about her, please tell me. I need to at least try and help her know she’s not a lost cause.”

“Why on earth would she think that?”

“Because I have the same head as her,” I said, slipping behind the wheel of my SUV. “Be at the house too, I don’t care. But let me try, man. Please.”

The line was quiet, my heart in my throat as the seconds passed by.

“9 Hunt Lane. She’s a three minute drive from your house. Tell the guard at the gate ‘Cherry Blossom’ and they’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” I said, starting the car.

“If you fuck with her-”

“I know. You’ll cut my balls off or some shit,” I said, opening my gate and backing out.

“Oh that’d be the nicest thing I’d do to you.” I didn’t put it past him that it was the truth. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t trust me, buddy?” I tried to joke but it came out forced.

“I’m your fucking nightmare, not your buddy.” He hung up and I stared at the phone a moment.

“I would hate to know how you treat me if I wasn’t your favorite player,” I mumbled, taking off and in front of Y/N’s house before I knew it. I hadn’t realized we lived in the same neighborhood, just opposite sides. Her security guards at the gate were giving me a good side eye until I uttered the magic words. The next thing I knew, I was being let in the front door of the house by them, the thing closing tight after me, one of them locking it back up from the outside.

I kicked off my shoes and walked through the massive front hallway to the back of the house, looking all around but finding it dark. Until I glanced upstairs, a light coming from down the hallway. I quickly jogged upstairs, pausing halfway down the hall to a pair of double doors, one of them open.

“Y/N, it’s me Dean,” I called out so I didn’t frighten her. I could have sworn I still heard a sharp intake of air inside. “Eric gave me the secret password to get in. You’re going to have to tell me what cherry blossoms means some…”

My mouth snapped shut when I stepped into the room, Y/N wiping away at her eyes with the sleeves of an oversized hoodie. I frowned and walked in further, pulling away her hands from where she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Oh sweetie.” My heart clenched at the site of her red, puffy eyes, at the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m what’s wrong!” she growled, trying to push me away but my hands around her wrist stopping her in place. “You want me? Me? I’m a fucking disaster, Winchester.”

“If you’re one then so am I.” She shook her head as I knelt in front of her, Y/N looking over my head. “Talk to me, princess.”

“At least you’ve had relationships and fucked other people.” I stared up at her, a pair of harsh eyes looking down at me. “I’m thirty two years old and as far as I’ve ever gotten was a kiss. A kiss. Because all men want is my money or fame or to fuck the virgin. To screw the pop princess and further their own careers.”

“Y/N-”

“The second I care about someone and let my guard down, they’re gonna hurt me or worse. Someone’s gonna hurt them and I can’t do jack shit,” she shot out, her chest heaving as more tears flowed. She stared me down, shrugging. “I’m too hurt to believe that you don’t want me for me, that you won’t get hurt too. You will get hurt. People want to be with me and if you were, you’re just a target. A fucking bulls eye on your back for life. Either you fuck me over or someone fucks you over. That’s all there is. That’s it. So why the fuck would I sign up for that? Why would I-”

I leaned forward and tilted my head up, catching her lips briefly. I hated the taste of salt on them, of the way I could feel her body shake as she fought back even more tears. I pulled back slowly, keeping close, her big eyes watching me with so much fear but something else too.

Desire. Longing.

“Remember earlier when we said we both had to learn and we’d do that together? Well that’s what this is, princess. So you get scared and I’ll be here to remind you to, okay?” I whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. She looked so confused, watching as I wiped off her face with my hand. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re a virgin by the way. You deserve to choose how and when you want to love someone with your body and that’s your choice alone.”

Her bottom lip wobbled as she nodded, my thumb running over it.

“Don’t be afraid of me, baby,” I murmured, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear. “Tell me who hurt you so much to make you think you’re unlovable.”

Her eyes shimmered, gaze casting down. “He was my responsibility. I was supposed to protect him and…” She forced her head up, face scrunching up as I held her cheeks. “I’m going to fuck that up again. Whatever man I’m with, I’m going to let him down. I’m going to let my partner down again. And I’m too weak to stop it.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, waiting a beat until she was looking at me, bleary eyes, runny nose and and all. “I am your partner and you will not let me down. We will protect each other. That’s how it works.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered, voice ragged. “The attention. The death threats. The creeps. The way people write letters and offer information on Max that are full of lies. You’re famous but it’s not like this. All of that will happen to you too. I can’t protect you from it, Dean. No one can.”

I touched my forehead to hers, shushing her when she shivered. “You’re right. It’d be another crazy ass level of infamy that I don’t know. And people will hate me for it. But they hate me already for losing games, for getting a flag, for not running when they don’t know the fucking plays. People will hate us for no reason no matter what we do. So why the hell wouldn’t I want to be happy with you while that’s happening?”

She sighed, gently taking hold of my hand. “I’m not the girl with the designer clothes and hair extensions and fake eye lashes with a smile everyone thinks I am. This is what I am behind closed doors, Dean. Why would you ever want this?”

“Because I fell for the girl who looked like a hot mess around a backyard campfire, the sweet one that valued her school work and gave the boys without the good looks attention because of what was in their heads. You have a charity to try and shut down trafficking rings. You have never said a bad thing about another celebrity when we know some of them deserve it. Don’t you know how good of a soul you have, princess? Scars and all, it’s the one I want.”

I ran my finger down the curve of her cheek, her free hand going to my shoulder, gripping it gently.

“It’s so unfair,” she said, sliding her hand up to my face. “You’re only supposed to be a handsome cocky flirt. You’re not supposed to be sweet too.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I whispered as she tilted her head closer, her breath warm, a faint whiff of mint in the air. “I know you want me. So take me.”

Y/N’s eyes grew a sliver darker, nose jammed against my own. “You sure you want that?”

“I’m already yours.” She crashed her lips to mine, tugging on my hand. She wouldn’t let me breakaway as I rose to my feet, crawling onto the bed as she laid back. I yelped when her legs wrapped around my waist and she flipped me to the other side of the bed, her body straddling mine. She lowered her torso, dipping in a way that made my cock strain in my jeans, her face only inches from mine. “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I said I’ve never had sex. Never said I’d be innocent.” She said, pressing her lips to mine, a twinge of something in her face pulling her back after a second. “I’m not ready for that tonight.”

“That’s okay,” I reassured her because it completely was. She eased and brought her head down, kissing under my jaw and doing nothing to ease the twitch in my dick.

“Your dick seems to have other plans,” she murmured.

“Ignore him,” I said, cupping her face so she saw I was serious. “You are wildly unphased about the fact a cock is poking into the back of your thigh for someone who’s never even seen one you realize?”

“I’ve seen them, just not in person,” she said, eyes going to my lips. “And I wouldn’t say unphased is what I am…just don’t want to send the wrong impression.”

“Is it turning you on?” I asked carefully, Y/N nodding once. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Keep it to your hands,” she said quietly, before kissing me again. I let her run things, her slow wandering fingers quickly tugging in my hair as her kiss turned rougher. She gasped when I put my hands on her waist and squeezed, earning me one of her hands fisting my shirt. She was getting into it, her breath hitching for barely a moment as I slid a hand under the waistband of her sweats, under the cotton underwear.

Her hips rolled while my fingers made their way over her smooth mound and suddenly I was touching her slit, teasingly gracing the tip of one finger through her folds.

“Oh,” she said, when I brushed her clit, her eyes meeting mine. I stared up at her, the room dead silent. A grin spread onto her face, a giggle escaping. “I didn’t mean for you to stop. Feels different from when I do it.”

“Good different or bad different?” I asked, still not moving.

“Your fingers are bigger than mine,” she said, rocking her hips forward, my finger rubbing against her. “Definitely a good different.”

I blinked a few times, shaking my head with a big smile. “Y/N Y/L/N. Are you humping my hand?”

“Yeah. And?” she asked, grinding her hips down, biting her bottom lip.

“Definitely not innocent,” I said, moving my fingers again, Y/N’s lips parting when I slipped a finger inside her wet core, leaving my thumb to rub circles around the bundle of nerves.

“More,” she whispered, capturing my lips, a breathy moan rising up her throat as I pushed another finger inside. I curled them and rubbed, Y/N’s body sparking like a live wire. “What the fuck…”

I ground my palm against her clit as I thrust my fingers inside her, slamming right against her g-spot. Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as she full body shuddered, this one clearly pleasant, head shaking once.

“Go with it,” I murmured as she yanked on my hair, her body unsure of what to do with this kind of pleasure. I’d only heard it described to me but I knew there was a difference between a normal orgasm and one that came from hitting that spot deep inside, one her little fingers couldn’t quite reach.

Her jaw dropped as her eyes fluttered open, giving me a chance to lean up and kiss her as she rode out the first wave of an orgasm.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” she panted against my lips, voice growing higher. Y/N whimpered when she went straight into a second orgasm, her hips jerking frantically, searching for more.

Finally when her legs were quivering and she put a hand on my wrist, I stopped moving, Y/N rolling onto the bed beside me. She breathed hard with closed eyes, a thin layer of sweat on her face. I carefully started to pull my hand away, her hand squeezing my wrist hard. She forced her eyes open, no shred of worry or fear in them now.

“Do that again,” she whispered, removing her hand from my wrist and sliding it over to my stomach, down towards the obvious bulge in my pants.

“Y/N-”

“I can trust you, right?” I nodded, Y/N working my belt open. “Then trust me too.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. She smiled, lazily nodding.

“I’m not the only one with a problem connecting to someone. I’m just the one that cried all over themselves before you helped me. Now it’s your turn.”

“Okay,” I whispered, Y/N stopping after unbuttoning the denim. Her eyes flickered to find mine, her hand moving up to tickle the skin of my stomach.

“If you’re with me, you’re with me, Dean. No one else.”

“I already told you, princess. I’m yours.” She raised her chin, satisfied with that answer. But still, she didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

“Why won’t you commit to anyone? Honest answer.” I closed my eyes, her small hand on my face making me slowly open them. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

“Part of it is Sam. Feeling responsible, not wanting to feel that pain again. Love would…” I trailed off.

“Someone that can destroy you again.” I nodded, removing my hand from her pants, letting it rest on her hip instead.

“I don’t want that pain,” I whispered. “And I don’t get it as bad as you but women just want to use me. Date a NFL player and they can launch their influencer careers or model or whatever. So I let them use my body instead and I used theirs and I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt. But that’s not the real reason.”

Y/N ran her fingers through my hair, looking at me with the softest eyes I’d ever seen, reminding me of Sammy for a split second.

“It’s hard to move on when you’re still hung up on the girl from college that wouldn’t give you the time of day.” She swallowed down a thick lump in her throat, watching me oh so carefully, looking for any sign of bullshit. I didn’t blame her one bit. “I told you I had a crush on you.”

“You get over crushes,” she whispered, her voice gentle.

“You do. S’really fucking weird though to get a crush on a girl who went through the same shitty life experience as you, who ended up having as massive of a career as you, all before you ever knew that shit about her. Life’s funny like that, isn’t it.”

“If Sam hadn’t gone missing-”

“I would have pursued you. But I was so goddamn broken my last two years of school, I couldn’t handle that kind of rejection. Everybody thinks Finish Line is such a happy song because of the beat but it’s fucking tragic, isn’t it? I never saw that until after he was gone. I knew only someone in pain could have written those lyrics. Neither one of us back then were ready for a relationship, not when it was so raw.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I wish I could have been there for you back then.”

“Want to know something embarrassing? I have a playlist that’s just your songs. I listen to it before every game for luck. I would wish I’d said something to you in college because now you’re so beautiful and so famous and I’m the emotionally distant playboy you’d never go out with. I’d have to do something stupid like bribe you into a date by giving to your charity. That guy’s a fucking loser all because he never got over you…and I still don’t know if you just pity me or if you actually might like me too.” Water welled in her eyes again, my hand reaching out to catch it.

“We’re going to make a promise,” she said, holding my hand to her chest. “We don’t hate ourselves anymore. You’re not the playboy anymore. I’m not afraid of moments like this. You’re Dean and I’m Y/N and we like each other. We are two people dating and figuring it out like everyone else in the world. You are not a loser, Winchester. Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, lacing our fingers together. I chuckled, Y/N scooting closer to rest her head on my shoulder. “Look at us. I think we’re getting the hang of this having a healthy relationship thing.”

“People make it seem so hard,” she joked, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you harassed me into that date.” I smirked, Y/N growling. “Don’t let it go to your head or I won’t give you a handjob.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I teased, Y/N eyeing me as her hand shifted downwards. “Hey, you really don’t have-”

She covered my mouth with a finger, shushing me. “I want to. Just tell me if I can make it better for you, okay?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to do just fine with it, princess.”

One Hour Later

I jogged downstairs, leaving Y/N lax in bed, completely blissed out from another round of orgasms. Turns out she had a pretty damn healthy sex drive. I cut her off at a blowjob though. She’d had an emotional night and I wanted her to feel good, not self-conscious about going too fast. I’d told her to wash up and clean off her face while I dished up our takeout and brought it up. Neither of us had eaten dinner yet and it wasn’t hard to convince her to split a pizza and garlic bread with me.

Downstairs I poked around her kitchen for a bit before I found some plates, napkins and a pair of water bottles.

“Here.” I jumped at the sudden voice, spinning around to find Eric setting a pizza box and smaller container on the kitchen island.

“Uh, thanks. How-”

“Guards at the gate have a card they use to pay for takeout with,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your hair is tousled.”

I reached up to pat it down, Eric stalking over to me, cornering me against the counter. “Listen-”

“She needs a good man, not a fuckboy.” I cocked my head at him, Eric crossing his arms.

“You don’t know me,” I said, moving past him, setting everything on top of the pizza box.

“Yes I do,” he said behind me, hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “You’re going to butter her up because you share a history, break down her walls until you get in her pants. You’re already getting in, obviously. Once you fuck her a few times, then you’ll be gone, playboy Winchester got the pop princess, like a predator that caught his prey finally. Press will fucking love it and you’ll be able to fuck literally any woman on earth you want to which is all you want, isn’t it?”

I spun around, a dark scowl on his face as I pressed my chest to his, hands clenched by my side.

“You can be an ass to me all you want. You can think what you want. I know you care about her, love her even. So put on the tough guy act all you want. But we both know you wouldn’t have told me where she lives, wouldn’t have given me the magic password if you thought I would hurt her. You know exactly the kind of man I am. I bet you fucking know better than most people in the world, don’t you?”

He had two inches on me and used it to stare me down, his jaw clenched, a vein in his forehead pulsing. “She is not the kind of girl you hookup with. It’s all or nothing with her.”

“I will give her my all. I swear.” He bumped my shoulder as he walked past me, footsteps stopping a few feet behind me.

“If you love her the way I know you do, then you better.”

“How do you know I do?” I asked but he walked away and out the front door. Whatever. He wasn’t my concern anyway. I grabbed the box and headed upstairs, ready to enjoy dinner with my girl.

________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x #football au

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moistmailman · 27 days

Text

Role Swap AU

*Team PRAN (Pyrrha Ren Arc Nora (pronounced as Persian)) is visiting the arc residents during break*

Jaune: Okay, before we meet anyone in my family, just a fair warning. My mother can be……scary, so I’ve been told at least.

Pyrrha: Describe scary.

Jaune: Imagine a grizzly bear with the sentience of a battle tactician and the demeanor of a serial killer.

Pyrrha:……that’s a colorful way to describe your mother.

Jaune: Those are my father’s words.

Pyrrha:….that’s a colorful way to describe your wife.

Jaune: Just don’t let her intimidate you is all. She’ll soften up to you after a while.

Nora: How long is a while?

Jaune: Well, my father told me she first hugged me when I was around 3 so…..

Everyone:……..

Pyrrha: I-is it too late to go back to beacon?

Jaune: Yes. Look, she’s not that bad. I’m pretty sure everyone overexaggerates when they describe her. So let’s calm down.

Pyrrha: O-okay then. If you say so.

*Jaune knocks on the door*

Jaune: Oh, also try not to show weakness in front of her.

Pyrrha: What?!

Jaune: She has a keen sense of sensing weakness in people. Like a 6th sense.

Pyrrha: B-But I have a keen ability look feeble and pathetic though! She’ll single me out immediately! It’ll be like grade school again with Becky!

Jaune: Nonesense, you’ll be fine. Just calm down and relax.

Pyrrha: B-but-

*the door abruptly opens revealing a tall muscular woman that towers over Pyrrha*

Pyrrha: *audibly gulps*

Jaune’s Mother, nodding: Jaune.

Jaune, nodding back: Mother.

Jaune’s mother: Didn’t have any trouble getting here, did you?

Jaune: Nope. It was a breeze.

Jaune’s mother: *grunts*

Everyone:……

Jaune’s mother: So…..which one of you is my son’s partner in Beacon?

Everyone:……..

Jaune, awkwardly coughing: Uh…mother, this is my partner, Pyrr- Pyrrha? *Jaune turns to his right to see his partner’s absent* Pyrrha, where she go?

Ren: She’s kinda koala hugging your back and trying to hide from *looks at Mrs. Arc*….no one in particular.

Jaune, gently scooting Pyrrha towards his mother: T-this is my partner, mother.

Pyrrha, sweating nervously: H-h-hello, Mrs, Arc. I-it’s uhm….it’s nice to meet you.

Jaune’s Mother: *staring intently at Pyrrha*

Pyrrha, awkwardly: M-my name’s Pyrrha…but you already knew that since Jaune just told you it. *awkwardly chuckles*

Jaune’s mother: *still staring*

Pyrrha:……m-my last name is Nikos, by the way. I don’t think Jaune told you- *looks at Jaune* You didnt t-tell her my last name, right? Uhm, just my first name? Or did you tell her my last name too? Am I making a fool of myself ? I-I’ll just be quiet now…..

Jaune’s mother: *stares*

Pyrrha: *sweating nervously*

Jaune’s mother:…..so Jaune, how’s is this……Pyrrha of yours as a leader?

Jaune, smiling: She’s great. An amazing leader. Ozpin even say she’s naturally born to lead.

Jaune’s mother: Really, that’s a lot of praises then. I’m sure Ozpin must’ve had great reasons to choose her as a leader over an Arc then.

*the atmosphere turns abruptly violent*

Jaune, awkwardly: I-I-I’m uhm…I’m sure he did. W-wouldn’t be the headmaster of Beacon Academy if he wasn’t good at his job, right?

Jaune’s mother:….right. So, Pyrrhan-

Pyrrha: I-it’s uhm Pyrrha.

Jaune’s mother: If you and your team have been in the forest for 2 weeks, and everyone is running on 4 hours of sleep, and not having a meal in 16 hours while one of your teammates is incapacitated from an injury as you’re surrounded by Grimm, what will be your first action as a leader to get your team to safety?

Pyrrha, head spinning: Uh……c-could you maybe repeat that?

Jaune’s mom: No.

Pyrrha, awkwardly swallowing: Uh….well, I would need to know what kinda Grimm we’re dealing with firstly.

Jaune’s Mom: Oh?

Pyrrha: Y-yeah, cause different kinds grimms would need different plans on defeating them. I would also need to know who was injured and how. J-just to know who I have to fight at the moment and how severe the injury is.

Jaune’s mom:…….interesting answer.

Pyrrha: I-I answered?

Jaune’s mom: *walks into the house* You guys can come in now.

Pyrrha: D-did….did I do good?

Jaune: She’s…..reluctantly okay with your answer. Glad we managed to meet her during one of your good moods.

Pyrrha: T-this is a good mood for her?!

Jaune: Is it not obviously?

Ren: I thought she was going to turn Pyr-Pyr into a shish kebab at first. From her gaze alone honestly.

Jaune: Well she didn’t though. So this is good news. Let’s meet everyone else in the house then, okay?

*the team walks into the Arc house to be met with a tall blond man with a beard*

Jaune, nodding: Father.

Jaune’s father: Jaune. So, which one of these lucky ladies fell for your arc charm already?

Jaune, blushing madly: WILL YOU QUIT IT ALREADY?!

Jaune’s father: You’re the second eldest in the house! Saphron already gave me a grandson! When will it be your turn!? I have so much extra money to spend on grand babies!

Jaune, blushing even harder: OH MY GODS! SHUT UP ALREADY!

Pyrrha, whispering to Nora: What’s happening?

Nora: I’m not too sure but I think this is a normal occurrence for this house hold. So nothing to worry about.

Pyrrha, nodding: Oh, okay…..exactly why does he think Jaune would go for a girl like me though? Is he trying to make me feel better for the way his wife treated me?

Jaune, in mid rant: EVERYTIME I EVEN LOOK IN THE DIRECTION OF A GIRL YOURE ALWAYS THERE PLAYING MATCHMAKER FOR ME! I CANT STAND IT!

Jaune’s father: Well I’m sorry for trying to help! You should be thanking me honestly! Ungrateful!

Jaune: *groans in anger before continuing ranting*

Nora:……you know what, let’s have this conversation another time maybe. Maybe once you’ll less dense.

Pyrrha: What’s that supposed to mean?

Nora: I’ll answer that question too in the conversation we’ll have in the future when you’re less dense.

Pyrrha: O-okay.

#Rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie Ren #arkos #role swap au #pyrrha x jaune

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vodika-vibes · 6 days

Text

It's My Choice

Summary: Echo is in recovery at a GAR medical facility on Coruscant after being assumed KIA. You want to see him, more than anything, and you hope he knows that he's your choice.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1190

Warnings: reader is described as having hair long enough to style, and as a supermodel.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I had an idea, and I decided to run with it. It might not flow well, simply because I'm very sick and have been for the last two days, but I'm happy with it. (Also, pardon any typos/grammar errors, I typed this while not wearing my eyes.)

You lean back in the hard, uncomfortable chair of the GAR medical facility, your gaze drifting to the ceiling as you wait for an update on Echo. The chairs really are terrible, but then the clones were never meant to have worried family you suppose.

Jokes on them. Echo has you.

You allow the back of your head to thump against the wall behind you and you stretch your legs out in front of you and cross your ankles.

You've been here for almost 12 hours now.

Fives contacted you as soon as the Resolute landed on Coruscant and informed you that Echo was alive and was being treated for his injuries here. He mentioned that you didn't have to come, but clearly he's lost his damned mind.

As if you'd be anywhere else.

Of course, you probably should have taken the time to make sure that you fixed your hair and washed the extreme make-up off…and changed out of the six inch stilettos you had been forced into for work today.

But, whatever. Echo's alive. Nothing else matters.

Even if your agent has been blowing up your com for the last six hours. And even if General Skywalker has been side-eyeing you like he thinks you're trespassing.

Your comma chimes again, and you absently lift it over your head to read the message. And then promptly deleted it. Your agent will just have to deal.

A door at the end of the hall opens, and you tilt your head to the side, before you sit up straight as Fives steps into the hall and walks over to you.

He takes in your carefully styled hair —artfully tousled, your stylist called it— the dark make-up, and the impossibly high stilettos and he huffs out a laugh, “You come here right from a shoot?”

“Echo’s more important than any photo shoot. Besides, I had already finished when you called.” You reply as you kick your heels off and scramble to your feet, “Can I see him?”

Fives smiles at you, “Yeah. Follow me.” He waits for you to scoop your heels, and your bag, off the ground before he starts walking, “I should warn you…he looks bad.” Fives says quietly as he stops next to the door.

You lift your chin and glare at him, “Contrary to what you, and apparently everyone else, believes. I'm not dating Echo because of his pretty face.”

“Okay, okay. Sheathe your claws, kitten. I just wanted to warn you.” Some of the offended tension drains from your shoulders, you didn’t mean to snap at him, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone made an assumption about you and your choice to have a relationship with Echo.

Fives opens the door and moves to the side to let you into the room, and your breath catches when you see him.

Like Fives said, he looks bad. Thin, too thin by far, and so pale. The prosthetics and cybernetics are new, but honestly, you’re only bothered by them because you’re sure that they must have hurt.

“Echo,” You step into the room, and set your heels and your bag in a chair, before you move closer to his side. There are tears in your eyes, but they’re happy tears, “Welcome home.”

Echo blinks at you, twice, and then he slowly slides up in the hospital bed, “Cyar’ika…when…how did you know I was here?”

“Fives commed me and told me. I’ve been sitting out there for hours.” You look around and then huff out a sigh, before dumping your stuff on the floor and moving the chair next to the bed. You lightly take his prosthetic in your hand, a scomp, rather than a hand.

You hope that it was his choice, rather than one made for him.

He tenses, but he doesn’t pull away from you, “You didn’t have to.”

You smile at him, “Echo. You’re here, and you’re alive. Where else would I be?”

His gaze flickers across your face, and then over to the heels lying on the floor, “Well, judging by the height of those heels, a photoshoot.”

“Not half as important as you.” You reply dismissively.

He shifts and slowly sits up, properly, before reaching out and pressing his flesh hand against your cheek, “Cyar’ika…” Echo hesitates, and then flashes a wry, self-deprecating smile, “I don’t think I’m pretty enough for you.”

You bite your tongue to stem your immediate, and loud, disagreement. Instead you reach up and press your hand over his, rubbing your cheek against his hand. “Why would you say that?”

“Why-? Cyare. Look at me!”

“I am looking.”

“Then I shouldn’t have to explain-”

“Would you like to know what I see when I look at you, Echo?”

“Not really.” You tilt your head, and he sighs, “Tell me.”

“The man who, after meeting me, an actual supermodel, invited me to go to a bookstore with him.” Echo flushes, and it’s obvious due to how pale he is, “A man who overheard me mentioning to my agent that I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to meet my favorite author and made sure that I arrived on time.” Your smile widens, “A man who learned who my favorite author was, simply so he could read the books too, so he’d have something to talk about with me.”

Echo averts his gaze, “We talked all night.” He murmurs.

“We did. And I got in so much trouble the next morning because I had dark circles under my eyes, and you got in trouble because you were late to formation…but we did the exact same thing three nights later.”

Echo laughs softly, “I thought Rex’s head was going to explode.” He admits.

You release his scomp hand and reach up to press your hand against his cheek, “I see the man I fell in love with. The man who looks at me and sees more than the dumb supermodel that everyone expects me to be.” You scan his face, almost anxiously, “And I’m hoping he still loves me.”

He looks at you, something soft in his gaze, “You still want me-?”

“Always. Forever. Until the stars go cold.”

“Your agent is not going to approve.” Echo warns as he lightly tugs you off the chair and onto the edge of the bed.

“I cannot emphasize enough how little I care about my agent’s opinion.” You admit quietly, “If I have to choose, I know who my choice will be.”

Echo exhales slowly, and slowly tugs you in until your forehead lightly bumps against his, “I love you.” He whispers, “I never stopped loving you. Even when I could barely remember anything, I still remembered your smile and the smell of your lotion and the feel of your skin under my fingers.”

“Charmer.” You whisper.

“Mean every word.” Echo whispers right back, and then he tugs you once more and catches your lips in a kiss that’s soft and loving enough that it nearly brings you to tears.

You have your Echo back. He might look a little different, but he’s here and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #star wars au #the au part is that Fives is alive #and palpatine was shot by Fox and Fives

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airbendertendou · 6 months

Text

SLEEP DEMON! ♥︎ belphegor

synopsis : your usual sleep paralysis looks different ; odd. you can’t help but miss the one you’d see weekly.

content warning : descriptive bodily horror ; demon forms ; poor sleeping ; yandere!belphie ; it pronouns used for the demons

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♥︎——

It always lingered, just out of reach of your vision. At first, it only stayed for a few minutes ; then a few hours. You’d see it for only a month ; until that turned to weekly.

Just a distant, shadowy figure.

You could see the horns ; could see the flickering of its tail when you stared for too long. Just barely, you could make out the shine of stars, right where eyes should be.

As always, you were completely frozen. From the start of your toes to the tip of your head, you couldn’t move at all. All you could do was simply stare at the figure at the base of your bed.

And as the clock hit 5:30 am, it all went away. Like it never happened.

——♥︎——

Sighing, you take another sip of your piping hot coffee, basking in its warmth and taste. Your game was currently paused as you shoved the mic away from your lips — hearing someone slurp couldn’t be anymore annoying, could it?

“You okay over there, [name]?” A voice calls through your headset. You hum, yawning halfway through. A snicker, “sure about that?”

A smile creeps onto your face. He’s your only friend, after all — the only one who checks up on you. “Just my lovely sleep schedule as always, Levi.”

“Another nightmare?”

You think about the tendrils you see. Think about the hovering and hesitance of a hand just above your face. Looking down at your keyboard, your mind is plagued with darkened thoughts. “Something like that.”

“My youngest brother is really good at sleeping.” You can hear Levi move on the other side of the headset. He lets out a groan as he stretches before sighing. “I can ask for some tips…?”

“I forget there’s seven of you,” you say instead. You smile at the thought of having that many siblings. “Your parents were busy, huh?”

You laugh at your own joke, snorting and tapping the table with your hand. Levi, however, stays silent as he stares blankly at the wall before him. You hear him mumble about you being so funny and seriously, I’m crying here. Calming down, you let out a loud sigh, followed by another giggle.

Letting out a yawn, you briefly ignore the time. Levi echoes the noise, yawning himself before he speaks. “Heading to bed soon?”

Biting your lip, you notice how late it actually is. You should sleep soon — attempt to, at least. But, you hesitate. Going to bed meant it would visit you ; meant you’d be frozen for hours as it creeped closer. You let out a hum.

“Me too,” he clicks a few times as the avatar onscreen waves your way. You grin and respond by sending him the middle finger. Levi snickers, “sweet dreams, then.”

“I’ll try my best.” Even if it won’t work, you think to yourself.

It’s different this time. You wait, tossing and turning to look at each corner of your room. But, it’s empty and you can still move. With a sigh, you try to relax each tense muscle you can feel, easing yourself to sleep

And of course it’s in vain.

A figure appears just out of sight. But, it’s different this time. It’s bigger, taking up a larger part of the edge of the room. It’s hulking ; shaking as it looms closer. A smile forms on its face, ear to ear as it opens wider and wider and wider.

A mouth bigger than you can imagine, edges jagged and dripping with something you can’t see. It snaps at you — you jolt awake.

——♥︎——

You tell Levi about the dream you had. That your normal demon — the one who only sits and stares — was absent. You say something about this one seemed hungry ; like it would actually latch into your skin and peel it away.

levi ‼️

ur hopeless no sleep 4 u Ever .

you

tell me something i don’t know !!

Munching on your chosen breakfast, you scroll through different apps until you grow bored. Nothing helped when it came to your sleep paralysis. No matter what you ate, what position you fell asleep in, how late you went to sleep — nothing changed.

It would happen, whether you wanted it to or not.

The hulking figure lingers in your mind, it’s teeth snapping and breath ghosting on your face as it does. You let out a sigh and take a sip of your drink. This won’t become your new norm, you hope.

——♥︎——

A month and two weeks go by and nothing has changed. The new sleep paralysis demon that decided to greet you stayed. Mouth watering and dripping what you hope was drool, taking up an entire corner of your room.

Part of you missed your older, serene demon. At least you didn’t fear for your life with it.

Nighttime comes sooner than you want it to and you think of pulling an all-nighter. Another one, you should say. But, your eyes droop and you stumble as you walk — beyond exhausted and in need of some sleep.

Frozen, your eyes scope over your room. The lights you keep on seem dimmer, the room colder as your body refuses to move. A flicker in the distance — and then a face is hovering over you.

Star-filled eyes stare down at you menacingly. But, you feel comforted somehow. This was the demon you were used to — this was the thing that greeted you every night.

Your finger twitches as you feel the will to move.

You reach a shaky hand out until it lands on its horns — the right horns. Curved against its head and longer than the other pair you’d seen. A flash of relief falls into your eyes before they shut and you go back to sleep.

Belphegor is so sure of it now. He’s positive you’re meant to be ; positive you should travel to the Devildom with him and stay by his side for eternity.

——♥︎—— im not super super satisfied w this but am deciding to post it anyways <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any obey me content, let me know! ♡

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#obey me x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me horror #yandere obey me #belphegor headcanons #belphegor x reader #om! belphegor #shall we date belphegor #belphie x reader #yandere belphegor #yandere belphie

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jaywonjuice · 8 months

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camping trip with enhypen🏕️

pairing: bf!enha x gn reader

warnings: sfw intimacy, physical contact, kissing, mentions of food

wc: 927 words

a/n: i am honestly dying for enha to go on a proper wholesome camping trip all together, i haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head ever since soso fun </3; i only write romantically for enha adult line !

-☘︎ heeseung

spending the afternoon cloud watching, sitting in the long grass with his head resting in your lap. he keeps claiming to see the most absurd shapes forming in the sky, making you laugh so hard your ribs ache.

you’re so intent on toasting the perfect marshmallow that you don’t even notice the way he’s staring at you. ‘okay, okay, this one’s perfect!’ you beam, finally turning to face him. as you do so your breath hitches - he looks just a little too fine right now, dark hair messy under his beanie, firelight dancing and flickering across his features. he nodded without even looking, eyes never leaving your face. ‘perfect,’ he agrees.

he makes ramen as a midnight snack just for the two of you, and you stay up snuggled under a blanket talking and laughing in hushed whispers, doing your best not to disturb the others.

-☘︎ jay

you’re the only one jay ever lets get their hands on his camera, and you take full advantage, snapping endless shots of him as he’s cooking dinner, strumming his guitar, pouting in a sulk after losing at uno (you tease him mercilessly about this last one)

he gives you his hoodie to wear as it grows dark around the campfire, knowing how easily you tend to feel the cold. you lift your sweater paws to your face and breathe in the beloved, reassuring scent ~ you love the way jay always smells like sandalwood and bergamot.

you drift off to sleep in your shared sleeping bag, feeling warm and safe with his arms wrapped around you, hugging you to his chest as the playlist he made just for you hums quietly through your shared earphones.

-☘︎ jake

posing together at the back of the group photo, he slinks an arm around your waist to pull you in closer to his side, and just as jay gets done counting down to take the picture, jake leans down and plants a swift kiss on your cheek.

slipping off back to the tent for an impromptu makeout session when everyone else is too focused on roasting marshmallows to notice your absence.

lying in your sleeping bags at night, he’s holding your hands in his, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he listens to you talk about the book you just got finished reading. neither of you want to be the first to fall asleep, but your words gradually grow slower and softer, and his eyelids begin to feel heavy. before you know it you’re both out like twin lights, hands still loosely linked together.

-☘︎ sunghoon

noticing you fidgeting from the cold in spite of the heat from the campfire he takes your hand, guiding it to his jacket pocket and holding it there to warm you up. you hope the glow of the firelight is enough to mask the sudden flare of colour in your cheeks.

he wakes you at god-knows-what-hour in the morning and drags you out of the tent to sit and watch the sunrise with him. he knew you wouldn’t exactly be feeling overjoyed about being woken up so early, so he makes you a mug of hot chocolate to make up for it (he even added marshmallows <3). it was worth it though, you think, the view really was breathtaking. and he’d just have to take your word for it seeing as he hardly took his eyes off you the whole time.

swimming in the lake with hoon, you splash him playfully, unable to suppress your giggles at his over-the-top outraged reaction, whining that he ‘wasn’t going to get his hair wet !!!’ soon it’s a full on water fight that only ends when, instead of launching another attack, he scoops you up out of the water and all of a sudden leans in, bringing his soft lips down onto yours. now it’s his turn to laugh at the taken aback expression on your face.

-☘︎ sunoo

he smiles shyly as he presents you with the little bunch of wildflowers he’s been secretly picking for you all day. you gasp in delight - they’re so beautiful. he tucks a single cornflower behind your ear before adding ‘now i can hardly tell which of you is the flower’, making your cheeks flush.

he plucks up a dandelion and holds it out for you to close your eyes and make a wish. before you even get the chance to reopen your eyes his lips are on yours, making you blush like mad for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

the two of you take turns seeing who can tell the scariest ghost stories as you lie awake in the tent late into the night. he inevitably wins, scaring you so badly that he has to hug you close for you to fall sleep (letting you be the little spoon just this once given the exceptional circumstances…)

-☘︎ jungwon

he asks you to hang back and wait with him as you’re walking through the woods back to camp, letting the others carry on up ahead, just so that he can hold your hand because he’s too shy to hold hands in front of everyone </3

after searching for him for the best part of an hour you finally stumble across him, sat cross-legged in the next field over, determinedly linking up daisies to make you a daisy chain necklace.

the two of you sneak off in the night to watch for shooting stars. every time he spots one he lifts up his hand that’s holding yours, pointing excitedly up at the night sky with your intertwined fingers.

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imissjoongsmullet · 1 year

Text

you belong to me

Pairing: Yunho x reader

Genre: idk man, soft angst, good amount of romance, and a dash of sexy

Summary: Your boyfriend takes you to a themepark with his friends but things take a turn when his jealousy takes over

Warnings: cuteness, possessive boyfriend Yunho, haunted houses?? honestly this is pretty chill, nothing too crazy babes, just read this if you like cute boyfriends that get a bit jealous ok

Word Count: 2K

Author’s Note: um yeah so first of all sorry for disappearing for so long, honestly I don’t know if i’m coming back just yet. This was just something that had to get out of my system so I wrote it (you know how it issssss), and i wanted to share with a friend so I figured I might as well post it. The writing was incredibly rushed and perhaps messy but it’s somethingggggg! I just hope someone out here enjoys it ^^

Also if you’ve left me a request that I haven’t gotten to yet, I send my apologies and one million good vibes your wayyyy

***

The sun shone bright, kissing the skin of your bare arms. You smiled up at your boyfriend, who was walking beside you — a tall teddy bear of a man by the name of Yunho. He gave a shy smile back and took your hand in his. You couldn’t help but blush a little. This was the first time he’d taken you out in a group setting and you weren’t sure how his friends would react to the two of you together.

It wasn’t long before you realized you had little to worry about. One carousel ride in, the ice was broken when the oldest of the group got so dizzy he ran into a trashcan. His friends were all really easygoing, it seemed, and they made you feel part of the team in no time. One of Yunho’s friends in particular took the time to make you feel comfortable — a dark-haired boy with a sweet twinkle in his eyes. He asked you how you’d met, where you were from, and made light-hearted jokes when the others were talking amongst themselves.

“Ever tried these?” he said, holding up a roll of candy.

You were all in line for the log ride; a 40 minute wait, and you had to admit you were starting to get hungry.

You let him drop a single gummy-like thing into your palm. “What are they?” you asked.

“They’re chewy,” he replied as he popped one into his mouth, “a bit sour at first but sweet on the inside.”

“She doesn’t like sour things,” someone said behind you.

Yunho’s hand slid slyly around your waist and he left a quick kiss near your temple.

“No, it’s okay,” you said, putting the candy in your mouth with a smile, “it looks delicious.” You didn’t want Yunho’s friends to think you were a difficult person or anything.

A long half hour later the entire group was facing the safety bar to board the ride. The gates opened with a creak and everyone moved toward the boat. Just as you meant to step in beside your new friend though, Yunho took hold of your wrist and bent down to your ear.

“You go sit in the front. I’ll be right behind you.”

He moved you over to the front of the ride, getting in after you, one leg of his on either side of you. Even though the front seat usually scares you, feeling his arms wrap around you tightly made you feel secure. You leaned back against his warm chest and let the scary things come.

This was the way it was with Yunho. Nothing could ever be frightening as long as he was with you because you knew he would always protect you. Just as you’d expected, he held you tight the entire ride, his large frame shielding you from wind and water alike, leaving you the only member of the group to not come out the log ride soaking wet.

He was being touchy, you could tell — more than usual, even. You weren’t entirely sure why but you definitely weren’t going to complain. You loved feeling his love this way. His gaze lingered on you as you chatted to his friends, his fingers coming up to run absent-minded tracks along your arm, asking for attention. You hoped he was proud of you for being social and mingling like this.

“Let’s go in the haunted house!” the dark-haired boy exclaimed, pointing excitedly to a large structure that looked like an abandoned castle.

“I don’t know about this,” you started, limbs stiffening. You meant to turn back to Yunho but before you could face him, the other boy grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you toward the entrance.

“Come on!” he said, smiling from ear to ear, “we can all go together!”

Once at the entrance, Yunho appeared before you, blocking you from the rest of the group.

“I know you don’t like haunted houses, baby,” he said, taking your hands in his, “but don’t worry, I’m right here. Nothing is going to happen. Just hold on to me,” he explained, before giving you a small peck on the forehead. Then he turned so he was in front of you and all you could see was his broad back.

Your heart pounded as you all started walking together. You didn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend, so you held onto his waist, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, and followed.

“Shit,” you heard an animated whisper next to you, “it’s so dark.”

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You flinched for a second but realized it was only one of the friends trying not to get seperated from the group.

All of a sudden, thunderous clap rattled the room and everyone screamed. There was a flash of light and the next moment, sounds that could only be described as undead, roared from behind.

“Run!” the voice next to you yelled and you all scrambled forward. There was a mess of hands tugging and pulling at you as you ran and you suddenly had no idea where Yunho was. You could tell he was still around somewhere — you knew his scent and aura all too well — but soon you weren’t sure which limb belonged to who and you didn’t have the courage to care.

Another flash broke the dark for the blink of an eye, showing a zombie-like creature standing at the end of a hall you’d just entered.

More screaming and tugging and pure chaos erupted and all you could think was how you didn’t want to be left alone. You grabbed hold of the first person you could find and together you ran screaming until, at last, you came upon a large, dimly-lit chamber.

It took no less than a second for Yunho to appear. Without a word, he pressed himself between you and the dark-haired friend, forcing you apart rather harshly. A guilty hot flush ran to your cheeks but there was no time to ponder what had just happened because the next moment, a band of monsters ran into the room, sending panic through your body once again.

“Up!” Yunho ordered as you felt him tap your thigh. Without another thought, you jumped up onto his back, letting him carry you swiftly from the room and into another dark hallway. You buried your face into his neck, squeezing you eyes closed until finally, you felt a breeze of fresh air in your hair.

“Ahh, today was so nice!” the dark-haired friend grinned as he slid onto the bench next to you and Yunho, “I don’t want to go back home.”

The theme park had just closed and you were finishing off the day with comfort food at a nearby family restaurant. You hadn’t had a proper meal all day and were pretty much starving at this point so you ordered a large size pizza. Another good thing about being with Yunho was that he would most likely finish whatever food you couldn’t eat. Big boys need big meals, you always said.

Low and behold, you started feeling full about halfway through your meal.

“Can I have a piece?” the dark-haired friend asked, leaning close to you with a smile.

“Sure!” You nodded, allowing him to grab a piece from your plate. You were always glad to share.

“You can try some of my fries too if you want,” he mumbled through a mouthful of pizza, “the sauce is amazing.”

They did look good, you thought, so you agreed.

“Here.” He smiled and picked up some fries with his fork. Chuckling gleefully, he moved closer to feed you but before the fork could reach your lips, high-pitched shrieks rang out all around the table as one of the drink glasses had just fallen over, spilling soda everywhere.

“Sorry,” you heard Yunho say as you and the others leaned over the table to grab tissues, “my hand slipped.”

“Be careful, baby,” you said gently, noticing a whole bunch of it had spilled in your lap as well.

“Oh no,” the dark-haired boy laughed, “that’s gonna get sticky.” He started laying tissues in your lap, patting them down with his hands when—

“I think you should go clean up in the bathroom.” Yunho’s voice was strained and dead serious. Taken off guard, you stared at him. He stared right back, eyes harder than you’d seen them all day.

“Right,” you said, scrambling up, only to realize you were still sandwiched on the bench between Yunho and the dark-haired guy. “This way,” Yunho said, taking your wrist and pulling you toward himself, making you squeeze by him.

Your face was hot as you left the table. Yunho was angry, that much was clear. Feelings of guilt flooded you. All you ever wanted was to be good to him. On a deeper, more secretive level though, you couldn’t deny the look he’d just given you made your knees weak in quite a pleasurable way.

Pull yourself together, you thought as you entered the hallway to the bathrooms. You stopped for a second to catch your breath, wondering what exactly was going on. You thought everything had been going great; you were getting closer to his friends and you were really starting to—

Someone gave you a push. You gasped as a hand tugged your shoulder, turning you around and shoving you against the wall.

“Yunho,” you whispered breathlessly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your boyfriend said in a low voice. His hands were on either side of your face and his large frame towered over you, trapping you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, staring up at him hopelessly. Yunho was not a scary guy. He was like a golden retriever; happy-go-lucky, playful and so so sweet; so the rare times something did piss him off, it made your heart thump a million miles an hour.

He shook his head, brows furrowed. “Baby girl, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” One of his hands left the wall to caress your cheek, gently, though his eyes were still intense as ever. “I had to watch my princess, all day, getting ju—-st a little too close to my friend.” His fingers moved down your chin, trailing you neck so lightly and so slowly you had to hold your breath. They traveled down to your chest, where one finger poked you. “Do you know how that makes me feel?”

Realization hit you like the strike of lightning. In all your anxiousness trying to get his friends to like you, you hadn’t stopped to consider your boundaries as much as you probably should have.

“Yunho, I—”

“Do you know how hard it is for me to watch you be touched by anyone else?” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear—”

“You were going to let him feed you.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Do you know who you belong to?”

You stared at him with desperation in your eyes. “I’m yours, baby, I promise.”

“Say that again,” he said darkly, hand coming to hold your chin.

“I’m yours, Yunho. Yours only—” you let out a gasp as his other hand ran down your side to your thighs momentarily, then back up, landing at your waist and squeezing softly.

“That’s good,” he said and you could tell the fire in his eyes was dying down. He pulled you close by the small of your back and let out a breath against your ear.

“Yunho,” you whispered, barely audible. He felt so overwhelmingly good against you.

Fingers caressed your back as he trailed little kisses down the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“You like that don’t you?” he murmured and all you could do was hum in response.

“You want more of that, don’t you?” he went on.

“Yes, please.” Your answer was automatic.

“Well,” he went on exploring your body, “if you want more of this, you’re going to have to be a very good girl for me.” He turned his head to face you, so close you could feel his breath on your lips. “Can you do that for me princess?”

You nodded and finally, he smiled again, love flooding his features once more. He gave you one soft, slow, lingering kiss that made your legs feel like they might give out, before pulling away and grabbing you by the hand.

“Let’s finish dinner quickly so we can get home soon.”

You knew what that meant, and suddenly, you couldn’t wait to leave.

#yunho #ateez #yunho drabble #yunho imagines #yunho imagine #yunho angst #yunho fluff #cute yunho #ateez imagines #yunho x reader #yunho x you

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