#are we even counting today as their anniversary

[forteafy]

A House, A Home | CL16 & CS55

Summary: A loveless marriage usually comes after years, not before. You've always loved him, his best friend has always loved you.

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Hard Angst, Cheating, Mentions of Sex, Death.

Note: This piece has two heavy inspirations. The first is @lxclerc's amazing pieces 'Moth to a Flame' and 'Call out my Name.' They are both incredible pieces and I highly suggest you give them a read. The second is from a TikTok Account called 'ForPercival,' they are currently doing a social media AU which I cannot recommend enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: 'You Think, You Know'

Charles Leclerc is a husband. 

At least, he was your husband on paper. One year ago, a hidden agreement had been put in place between Scuderia Ferrari and the Leclerc Household; their son, the ‘Il Predestinato,’ of the team, (albeit one whom had had the most terrible season,) could continue to drive for the team, so long as he married the daughter of one of their longest-running investors.

That so happened to be you. 

You had been against the entire idea since the first day. After being introduced to Ferrari’s driver, you had instantly felt the divide between the two of you. You’d reluctantly shaken his hand and since then, had been thrown through a mixture of fake dates, a fake engagement and the fakest wedding that could possibly be imagined. The ceremony hadn’t even ended with a kiss, per tradition. 

It didn’t take long for your walls to crack; living with Charles, seeing him at his highest and lowest points, his most vulnerable behind the four walls of your home had caused your heart to soften. Forget being forced into this marriage, you’d grown to care, to adore the man who’d once burdened you with his presence. You dreamed of the day he would return your affection; how long would it take for you to realise you lived in denial? In your late-night fantasies, lying alone in one of the guest rooms you’d sought refuge in on moving into this ­house, you’d dreamt of lying in his arms, lazy morning breakfast, slow kisses when he would come back to you. To your home.

A home, however, is where you feel safe, warm, protected. You lived in a house with Charles. The man who would barely glance your way and after three months of your marriage, started coming home, smelling of rich perfume and lipstick marks littering his jawline.

The first anniversary of your marriage should have been special, even if he despised you in every known form to man. You’d woken up in your room, slipped on the silk robe which had been lying on the empty bedside and slipped out of the bedroom. In your heart of hearts, you knew there would be no significance of today; no flowers, no card, not even a simple text from your husband to signify the date in question. The only text you had received that morning, was a stern reminder from your father, that you were due to attend the Monza Grand Prix in less than one week. 

A soft sigh emitted itself from your lips; it was a routine you knew all too well. Every few races, the more significant ones; Monaco, Silverstone, Spa-Francorchamps, Monza, you’d play the doting wife; cheering for your husband whilst dressed in soft summer dresses, a forged grin if he managed to battle his way into the points. On those rare days when he would obtain a podium position, he’d greet you on the barriers with a soft kiss. It was all fake; a routine which had been performed so many times. Yet, each time his lips met yours, you could dream he meant something behind the affection. 

The train of thought had played through your mind for so long that you were unaware of the tears pooling on your lower lash line. So, what if Charles wasn’t at home for your anniversary? It was your thought for feeling any kind of emotion towards him in the first place. It was a business deal, after all. Did your husband enjoytreating you like this? His disappearance on that morning was a cold reminder that he felt nothing towards you. No sentiment, no adoration. 

Despite the tears which had bade your eyes that morning, until the mid-afternoon, you had a productive day. Of course, leaving the house was out of the question; what would the media say if devoted wife of Ferrari’s driver was seen without him, on their wedding anniversary of all days? 

Instead, you’d played soft music whilst re-organising your wardrobe, something you’d put off for a while now. Cooking a meal whilst lazily treading around the kitchen, experimenting with the spices that Yuki had gifted to you on your previous visit to a Grand Prix. The meal itself was too big to eat alone. Instead, you boxed up the remainders of what was left in the tray, carefully placing it in the fridge, knowing Charles wouldn’t actually eat it. 

Your evening had been…less productive. You’d found solace in a glass of red wine, lounging on the sofa of the main living area; usually, you kept as far away from that zone as possible. Charles would spend his evenings in the couch, eyes flickering between the television and his phone, no doubt sending longing messages to his mistress whilst his wife was in the home. 

The ­third glass had just about been drained. You were adamant upon gaining a fourth, no longer caring of any commitments you had the next day. Instead, you sat up abruptly from the sofa, hearing the gentle click from the front door. 

He had come back to the house. 

His green eyes barely took a second to meet yours, slipping off his shoes and placing them into the rack situated by the front door. A rustle of his jacket signified his option to stay. You saw him carry the garment over his arm as he trudged into the living area, set to lie in front of the television for some personal relaxation. 

With his entry to the room, you suddenly remembered your position. You’d hastily stood up from the couch, collecting the half-finished bottle from the low table, holding the glass to your chest to draw the attention away from your beverage. 

Charles said nothing; he’d unlatched the top two buttons from his dress shirt; faint purple marks nestled on the lower joint of his neck; a clear mark that his mistress had previously made, a sinful reminder of his adultery. 

“I left you some dinner in the fridge.” You mumbled, voice barely picking up over the sound of the television. “There’s some clean loungewear on the end of your bed, too.” You finish your sentence. Your husband doesn’t even attempt to tell you he’s acknowledged your words, eyes transfixed on whatever news was currently playing on the television. 

“Happy Anniversary.” You mumble, feet leading you back to the kitchen, the bottle of wine against your chest now seemingly the only attention you’d ever get. 

Charles Leclerc is an actor. 

The entire drive to the track had been bade in complete silence; not even the radio had been switched on to drown out the undeniable tension in the car. You had originally tried to make light conversation with the man; he couldn’t even be bothered to make a sound in response to any of your questions. 

You couldn’t handle the harsh tone he had snapped at you with the previous time you had been in the car; instead, you watched the rolling hills and glistening sun of Monza. It was always one of the highlights of the year. If not for the racing, you would have come here in your own time, to bask in the sun and to enjoy the secluded section of Italy as an individual. 

The incredible views soon began to fade out, instead replaced by expensive cars and adoring fans, leaning over the barriers in an attempt to see their favourite drivers; there was an uproar as your husband drove past the crowds; he was clearly the home favourite, as any member of the Ferrari crew would be in this location. Silently, you slipped on the sunglasses which had been resting in the pouch of your bag, knowing the paparazzi would be blistering your eyesight sooner rather than later. 

Charles effortlessly parked his car in the allocated spot. Silently, he switches off the engine, removing the keys and shoving them into his jean pocket. The man doesn’t so much as register your presence as he opens his door, leaving you to venture out of the car yourself. You’d carefully adjusted the flowing fabric of your dress; the patterned fabric flowing gently around your calves. 

You looked beautiful. You just wished your husband would care enough to tell you.  

Instead, his priority is the cameras leaning over the barriers. He doesn’t even look in your direction, instead firmly grasping your hand in his own; an act the two of you had performed for the crowd oh-so-many times. He waves towards the crowds; neither of you miss the adoring sounds, the coos for many of the fan’s favourite ‘couple.’ To so many, his affection seemed to clear to you, and yours did to him. 

Charles didn’t hold your hand with any adoration. His grasp was harsh, palms roughly mashed together, no intent to keep your grip safe against his own. You were certain that if you were to let go, he wouldn’t think to remedy the situation. Your theory is proven when you gently let go, instead keeping in step, just behind his figure; Charles’ hand seems as if it’s gone into idle mode. His eyes, however, stayed alert, vigilant. Silently, the two of you pass through the paddock security, pausing every few moments for Charles to sign a cap, take a photograph with a fan. 

It isn’t until you reach the outskirts of the Ferrari Building that you see her. Soft hair around her shoulders, clothing exquisite, her eyes flickering to your husband, offering him a sympathising smile. 

He may have been a devoted husband towards the press, to Ferrari, even to the majority of his team. However, the moment that the cameras were turned off, microphones pushed away, he was sneaking to his mistress, one he had shamelessly invited to so many Grand Prix’s over the past nine months. She was what he wanted; a fun and fancy-free lady, rather than the wife whom stood by his side. There’s a glance between the two of them, as if a whole conversation is had in that moment. 

You stay silent as you follow Charles into the Ferrari Building. Instantly, you’re overwhelmed by the welcomes that your husband obtains; so many of them pass onto you. Upon the questions of how married life is treating him, he smiles, fakes a laugh as he pulls you into his side, one hand firmly resting upon your waist. 

“Married life is perfect.” He insists, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, one which you falsely giggle about, ignoring the butterflies which were nestling in the pit of your stomach. “It’s even better when she’s standing right here, beside me.” 

The entirety of the room buys the staged scene, all except for two people. The first, obviously, is your father. He’s always there, watching that the driver is performing well. He knows of his affair, but in his mind, as long as the affair is kept out of the light, and his marriage was still official, their deal continued. Besides, he would speak to you both sooner rather than later upon extending the family; that would seal both of your fates towards one another. Nobody liked a husband whom left a wife and child. 

The second was Carlos Sainz; the second driver for Scuderia Ferrari. 

The Spaniard was all too aware of the affair between Charles and his mistress; after qualifying from Baku, Carlos had found his teammate behind the garage, his hands with a firm grip on her waist, their kisses entirely formed of tounge and teeth. The man had furiously ripped Charles from the woman, bellowing in his face about the wife he had, whilst this woman warmed his bed. A deep blush had formed over both of their cheeks, Charles explaining that you were aware of his actions. 

Carlos didn’t want to believe it; he’d frantically messaged you that evening, to which you had answered his question, confirming you knew of the affair. That evening, you had revealed everything to him, watching his eyes get glossier as the cruel details were flickered in front of his eyes. It pained him; he’d cared for you since the moment you’d first stepped foot into the paddock alongside your father. His heart shattered upon finding out that you had been betroved to Charles, that he had missed his chance, all that time ago. 

He waits; waits until later in the day to approach you. By this point, you had made yourself comfortable in Charles’ driver room. Of course, your husband isn’t actually there. After a brief encounter with most of the members on his team, he’d excused himself. Carlos knew that he had snuck away from the crowds adorned in red to see his mistress, likely stealing kisses and rough fumbles between one another. Whilst that was happening, you, were sat in his drivers’ room, skirts spread across the soft lounger, eyes engrossed in a book which had been enclosed in your bag alongside your sunglasses.

 You were the epitome of beauty in Carlos’ eyes. He could have stood at the ajar door to the room, watching you as you engrossed yourself in the story. Instead, he offers a light cough, drawing your attention from the book in your lap. He’s engrossed by your eyes, how the light reflected off them, the glow they offered. Your smile, how you presented your real smile to him so naturally, not the one you forged next to your husband on every single encounter. 

“Good morning, Carlos!” You greet him with a bright tone, standing up from your position on the couch. You offer him a hug, feeling his warm arms wrap around your waist, his breath against your face when he kisses your cheek gently. ‘In another life,’ you always tell yourself. One where you were happy, free to marry a man who would return your affection. 

“Good morning, Mariposa.” The nickname rolls of his tongue; one he had presented ever since you had once showed up in the paddock, the most beautiful butterfly-imprinted dress flowing in the soft breeze of that Monaco weekend. “You’re hiding out in here today, yes?” He teases. You offer him a small shrug, eyes not able to meet those sweet brown ones of the man stood in front of you. 

“Charles is…busy.” You finish the sentence abruptly. Carlos knows not to question further; the two of you have a mutual understanding as to where he would be at this point during the day; wrapped up in the arms of another woman. “He’s probably on his track walk…maybe. I’m just…keeping occupied.” You motion towards the window, looking onto the first straight of the track. “Plus…it looks windy out there.” 

“Well…” Carlos invites himself into the room now, looking down at your attire, seeing that your feet were enclosed with the brilliant white trainers you’d left home in that morning. The man shrugs off his own windbreaker, holding it in his arm. “If I give you my jacket, would you like to come on my track walk?” He offers, holding out the garment to you. 

You knew you would probably live to regret that moment. However, if you stayed resting in Charles’ driver room much longer, reading the same line of your book whilst your thoughts trailed away to how he would be with his mistress, you would go crazy.

“I’d love to.” You finally respond, slipping your arms through the large sleeves of Carlos’ jacket. Offering you a pat on the shoulder, he motions towards the exit of the driver’s room, determined to keep you on his side whilst walking across the track loved by fans far and wide. He hopes that everybody misses the longing gazes and soft smile on his face every time you make a comment, or your hands brush a little too closely. 

Charles Leclerc is a neck kisser. 

It’s not as if you would know this. The only kisses you ever had were those for show. Cold, meaningless interactions between somebody who attempted to show unconditional love and one who could dream of being anywhere else in that moment. 

You’d carefully unlatched the front door of the house, your wireless earbuds resting comfortably in your ears, unable to hear any other sound apart from the music playing. Slipping off your shoes, hanging up your jacket; your only intention for the afternoon was to go through some of the notes you had made regarding education courses in the area; sitting at home day after day was truly aggravating. You couldn’t pick up yet another hobby. Maybe some form of learning would interest you. 

But first, you needed a drink to cool yourself off from the sun. You’d remembered the smoothie packs you made earlier in the week; one of those and going through your notes seemed a perfect plan for the current moment. 

The second you rounded the corner into the open-plan kitchen, you wished that you could have taken the scenic route home. 

His mistress was sat up on the kitchen island, back straight, legs wrapped around the waist of your husband, her hands grasping at the soft curls atop of his head. Charles’ hands slid across her back, soft grunts coming from his lips, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along her slender neck. She was loving it, at least, that’s what you could judge from the noises leaving her mouth. 

Before either of them could clock your arrival, both too wrapped-up in their embrace, you’d stepped out of the kitchen, hand over your mouth to silence the sobs which were threatening to escape. In a moment, you’re out of the hallway, letting your feet carry you up the carpeted stairs. 

The only intention now embedded in your mind was to drink so much you would forget the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. 

Charles Leclerc is a slow replier. 

The smell of tequila and sweat is strong in the cramped hallway of the club. It was insane to believe that less than three hours ago, you had been cocooned in your king-size duvet, lips slightly parted as you strung a meaningless thread of text messages to one another; you didn’t truly care how one of your friends felt in that moment, the heartbreak shattering in your chest was stronger than any other emotion you could begin to comprehend. 

No, your sole reason for texting was to leave this god-forsaken house. You kept telling yourself not to care. Charles’ eyes were all you could think about as you picked out your shortest, slinkiest dress; one which enhanced every curve and dip in the most elegant way. Charles’ dimples were all you could think about when your attention was drawn to outlining your lips with a deep red gloss. Charles’ lips were all you could think about, your foot sliding into the black heeled shoe, your feet finding no solace in being propped up within six inches of their life. 

Your friend had messaged you the location of the designated club. How anybody could enjoy one of those places sober was beyond your comprehension. Instead, you had taken the route of every other supposed being in that club; one shot of a suspicious-looking liquid had turned into sixteen – his number, you couldn’t help remembering. That was the reason you had found yourself stood motionlessly in the hallway, trying to navigate yourself back to the bar. At least seventeen wouldn’t have been tied to any other emotion. 

The plan, however, was short-lived when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Turning too quickly in your ridiculous heels, you’re met with the figures of Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen, hands linked together, clearly nowhere near as intoxicated as you were in that moment. 

Kelly moves first; you had always enjoyed her presence, spending time with her around the Paddock when you were bade to attend. Penelope was one of the sweetest three-year-olds you had ever come across, always greeting you with a toothy grin and a story of her and ‘Maxie’s’ escapades. When her mother encloses you in a hug, you can feel the tears fall, your drunken façade falling immediately. The woman simply cups your hand in her face, delicately wiping the tears from your lash line, making sure to remove any heavy clumps of mascara. She asks you where Charles is, where your husband is. You can’t make any sound which you believe is cohesive, something about him being back at the house.

Max by now, has his own arm resting around your shoulder. You were Charles’ wife, after all. He knew Charles would do the same for Kelly if she was ever to be found in this state. Something strange stabs at his chest; maybe he was too protective, but he would have never of let Kelly get into this state, at least, not on her own. The driver carefully fumbles in his back pocket, unlocking his own device and filing through his contacts to phone Charles. 

The phone goes straight to voicemail, not even a dialling tone. Max tries a second time, a third time. Instead, he leaves messages. How on gods earth did Charles feel relaxed, knowing his wife would be out, probably on some form of alcohol, and not think to check that she would be safe returning home? If only he knew. 

The duo moves to a second plan. You needed some fresh air before they could attempt to get you into a car and take you home; standing in the corridor of a nightclub was not an ideal situation, instead moving you to the exit. Your eyes widen, looking up to Max and Kelly as if you had shrunk right down to Penelope’s age, as if they would be the saviours to get you home. By the way Max was holding you by his side and Kelly stroking your hair behind your ears, you may as well been their daughter. 

Conversations are had; neither of them is sober enough to drive you home, nor do they think it’s wise to try and sneak you into their hotel room when they had already issues when checking in a little too late. Their prayers are answered when a group of men wander past, one of them stopping to smack Max, his fellow driver on the back. His dark eyes, ones you know so well, widen when he sees your figure, looking so fragile in the light of the early hours in the city. 

“Mariposa.” He murmurs, running a hand across your cheek, wanting nothing more than to hold your frame against his chest. Your soft eyes meet his own dark ones, glossed in concern for how on earth you could do this to yourself. The man murmurs something to Max and Kelly, ensuring them that he’d been the sober friend out of his group; promising he would get you home himself. The duo has no reason to not trust him, both of them leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek before retiring to their own hotel. 

As the couple walk away from the club, you can only feel the warmth of Carlos’ hand, still resting on your face. When he at last turns his attention back to you, he simply wraps a strong arm around your waist, supporting you to stand in those awful, heeled shoes. At the pace you’re walking back towards his car, you would get there just after the sunrise. Instead, he scroops you into his grasp. 

The affection, the physical contact is all too much for you. It had been so, so long since anybody had held you, cared for you like this. Your clouded mind, now overwhelmed by warmth and alcohol allowed you to lean your head into Carlos’ sturdy chest. If you were sober, you’d be able to feel the way his heart raced when feeling you rest against him. 

“Why do you do this to yourself, Mariposa?” He murmurs, settling you into the passenger seat of his car. He can’t help but remove his own jacket, wrapping the soft fabric around your arms, letting you nuzzle into the scent of his fabric softener and aftershave. Once settling himself into the driving seat, he begins the route back to the house, one hand gently resting atop of your leg, some form of comfort for the world in your mind which seemed to be caving in. 

“I’d never do this to you.” He whispers, turning into the driveway that he had become accustomed to since the marriage. 

Across the city, Max Verstappen is sound asleep. His phone, plugged in on the dressing table across the room buzzes once, notifying a text from his racing rival. 

03:21: Charles Leclerc

Hey, sorry, was busy with something. Is everything good?

Charles Leclerc is a traveller.

You hadn’t expected anything to awaken you after the way your body had reacted to the previous night. A natural awakening, however, would have been a lot nicer than hearing the clicking sound of wheels against flooring. Whatever, whoever was outside of your room most certainly had a death wish to awaken you that morning. 

It felt as if pins had been pressed into every square inch of your head, the task of even sitting up and forcing yourself towards the door of your bedroom, still dressed in your slinky garment and…somebody’s jacket? The night for you had truly ended as soon as you had that ninth shot of tequila; you thought you could remember Max and Kelly in the same location at some point, maybe that was your mind playing tricks on you, longing for people who enjoyed your company. 

You were pulled back to the present when the figure of your husband appears at your doorway. He’s dressed already; loose hoodie and tracksuit bottoms cover his frame; his hand is clasping tightly onto a suitcase. There wasn’t a Grand Prix this weekend, you were certain. He would have left days ago for that. There was-

“I’m going to stay with…” He pauses, clearly trying to think of the correct way to word the fact he would be staying with his Mistress until further notice. Even in your state, you understand, simply raising your hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t want to hear her name, you didn’t want to know that he would be spending the next nights wrapped in her arms, because for once…you didn’t care. 

They say alcohol causes dangerous mistakes, but in this moment, your hangover seemed to be your best friend. Every single time, you would think later, Charles would come back from seeing her, would leave to spend an evening by her side or sneak away during your paddock appearances…and you would be focused, your sole attention being on when he would return. Now? Your sole focus was on throwing up the remains of alcohol in your stomach, placing on a facemask and ordering some kind of comfort food to your home. 

You didn’t care about him, not right now. Your actions relay this, simply offering him a nod before speaking, your voice surprisingly clear for how much your throat was weeping for a drink.

“Okay.” You pause. There’s nothing left to say after that. What does he want you to do? Wish him a happy time? Charles looks equally taken aback, usually expecting some kind of warm drabble on how he needed to stay safe. In that moment, he can’t help but…want it.

“I’ll be back on Wednesday to pack for Singapore.” He pauses this time, taking in your appearance, your face so…gentle, soothing. “You’re coming, yes?” He remembers a conversation had many a time; his wife should be there to support him as much as possible, even if he wasn’t a fan of the sly ways he would have to leave her in front of his team members.

He isn’t expecting a shrug of the shoulders, bringing a hand up to rest on the door, clearly ready to close it at any given moment. 

“I’m not sure.” You offer him, sighing as you begin to close the door yourself. “My father said that race isn’t a priority.” That was the last sentence you offered him before closing the door. You obviously do not see it, but on the other side of the wall, Charles stands in confusion for a full twenty seconds before snapping back to his reality, his clutch on the suitcase a little tighter as he begins his decent down the stairs, wondering where on earth he had seen that jacket you were wearing before?

Your own priorities that morning was in full swing; you had placed your phone on charge, messages beginning to thread through as you stepped into the shower, the cool water savouring your skin. A fluffy robe is tied around your waist, brushing your hair around your back whilst your attention focused on rehydrating your skin, brushing your teeth and cleaning the dirt from underneath your eyes. 

The silence is strong when you walk back into your bedroom. In that moment, you opt for some music whilst changing into some comfortable loungewear, easy to roam around the house in and let your hair dry naturally. Sitting at the end of the bed, you’re able to check notifications, seeing Kelly had sent you a photo of Penelope that morning, smiling for her favourite aunt. You see your most recent text had come through from none other than Charles’ teammate, following one which had been sent early that morning. 

03:45: Carlos Sainz

Sweet dreams, Mariposa. Let me know if you need anything please. 

11:51: Carlos Sainz

Just seen on Twitter Charles is at the airport, he’s not off to see her, is he?

His message brings so many emotions to you, and also answers the question of who’s jacket you had been wearing that morning. Your heart can’t help but soften, knowing already that Charles is on his way to see...her. You think back to your mindset from earlier, how it was the last thing you wanted to care about. Why on earth would you care about them, when you could be focusing on ordering your favourite food and calling your nail technician to come to the house? That would make you feel better, better than he ever had.

You first drop a message to Carlos in response, wanting to let him know you had woken up from potential alcohol poisoning. 

12:25: You

Yeah, he is. Didn’t seem so happy that I couldn’t care less. Thank you for the jacket last night, I hope you had a good evening. 

12:28: Carlos Sainz

All the better for seeing you. Hoping the hangover isn’t too bad today. 

The messages spring backwards and forwards between the two of you for the afternoon; you’re smiling whilst you go through your favourite meal, the taste of it filling your mouth in the best way possible. There’s still a smile on your face when your nail technician arrives, painting some delicate designs into your fingers and toes, subtly asking who on earth has you smiling that much.

It isn’t until that evening; you’re sat in front of the television, a series you had watched one-too many times playing, your eyes glued to the storyline as if it would change again. The notification on your phone instantly drew your attention away from the screen, looking down to see a text on your screen.

21:03: Carlos Sainz

Why don’t you come and stay in Madrid for a few days? I’m sure we could both do with the company.

Charles Leclerc is a stalker. 

Well, maybe stalker was too strong of a word. However, his intentions were identical, having watched your latest Instagram story three- no, four times. Since leaving the home several days earlier, his mind could not stop thinking about the fact you truly could not care less about where he was going. This wasn’t you, was it? 

He’d arrived at her house, being temporarily distracted by luring himself into her bedroom, an afternoon of escapades and touches until she had rolled onto her side, telling him she was going to shower, and he would be more than welcome to join her. Instead, he pulled out his phone, seeing if you had done your usual; texting him to check that he had arrived safely, asking when he could be coming back to the house. 

There’s no messages, no notifications. Huffing to himself, Charles instead pulls up your Instagram, seeing that you had posted a new story that evening, a suitcase in hand, an emoji of an aircraft and a Spanish flag. You were off somewhere, and hadn’t told him? No, no. You always told him where you were going, you always-

“Are you not joining me, then?” Charles’ mistress’ voice suddenly draws him out of his trance, a towel wrapped around her body, hair around her shoulders. It was nowhere near as soft and as gentle as yours was, he realised in that moment. He eventually nods, pulling himself from his phone and following her into the en-suite. 

He’s so…distant for the remainder of his visit. When the two of them go to a secluded spot for lunch, when they go for a drive in a car they had hired for the afternoon. When she’s lazily pressing kisses along his neck, trying to grind into his crotch, desperate for his attention. When she finally falls asleep, Charles pulls out his phone, looking through any of the photos you had posted from that day. The soft sands of the beach, a hugestrawberry ice-cream cone, a mirrored selfie of yourself in the most beautiful sundress, hair curled and clearly ready for an evening in the Spanish sun. 

The routine continues, he sees your adventures, day after day. You’re touring small markets, trying local delicacies. One day, you’re simply lounging by a pool for the afternoon, a fat paperback resting on your stomach, clearly engrossed by the story which was resting on your stomach. Each time he sees a post, he can’t help but be drawn to how he wants to know how you’re doing. Maybe that’s why he drops you a text message, trying to gain some sort of traction from how you were doing. 

23:54: Charles Leclerc

Are you home? I’ve got a flight tomorrow afternoon.

You don’t respond; now, your phone is at the bottom of your bag, resting on the inside cabin of Carlos’ boat. For your final day in Madrid, he had insisted on taking you for a boat ride. You’d shyly mentioned earlier in that week that Charles had never taken you on his own boat, despite the fact that you were indeed married. 

The sun began to set over the rolling waves of the ocean; the boat is gently rocking, the sounds of water lapping over one another was music to your ears. You were sat at the edge of the now stilled boat, contemplating dipping your toes into the water. Your attention is so drawn to the scenery that you don’t hear him step away from the wheel, crouching next to you. 

“You could just go in.” He teases, “rather than staring at the water. You know how to swim.” The taunt causes you to roll your eyes, simply looking to the Spaniard on your right-hand side. 

“What? And have you speed off without me?” You retaliate, using your shoulder to nudge his body. Carlos clicks his lips together, mumbling something incoherent, before he’s suddenly scooped you up into your arms; despite your sounds of protests, he simply holds you against his chest tighter. His dark eyes flicker between yours and the ocean water below the two of you. Before you can say anything, his feet have made their own choice, jumping off the edge of the boat, both of you tumbling into the sea. Your briefly submerged entirely, before your head pops out of the waves, blindly reaching around until two strong arms encircle your waist. 

Both you and Carlos laugh for a moment, in pure awe that you just did that. He moves first, one of his hands releasing from your waist, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. There’s a silence between the two of you, where the only sound emitting from your surroundings is the gentle waves of the sea. In that moment, Carlos Sainz wants nothing more than to lean forward, pressing his lips to your own. They look so…soft. He craves to give them the attention they had been longing for so long. But…you’re married. And even if your marriage is loveless, to a point where your husband is openly in an affair, he would never do that to you. Instead, he settles for resting one hand on your cheek, gently kissing the top of your forehead, murmuring some Spanish wording you would never remember. 

If you did understand it, however, you would have known that he said there and then that he would always be devoted to you. 

Charles Leclerc is a loud shouter. 

His voice seemed to travel for miles, you were almost certain the entirety of the secluded neighbourhood could hear him at this current moment. The man had returned home from his secluded stay with his mistress to an empty house; at that point, you were still in the depths of Madrid, packing up your own suitcase, wishing Carlos luck on the Singapore Grand Prix. You had intended to return to the house after Charles had left himself; the heartbreak of seeing him littered in love-bites, his eyes transfixed to his phone from her messages was too much for you.

However, if you had been at the house when he had arrived home, you would have seen his neck clear, phone shoved into his back pocket as he called out your name, wondering if you had returned home yourself. Charles notices your trainers haven’t been left on the shoe rack; there’s no music to signify your afternoon relaxation. A light knock to the door of your room signifies there’s nobody home. The house feels empty. 

Maybe, Charles Leclerc was beginning to understand how you felt. 

His first instinct is to message you. Surely, you would have seen his text from his previous message by now; what would it hurt to check in once more. The man feels against his rough jean pocket for the device, swiping away from the multiple notifications from his mistress, instead scrolling to your contact’s name, seeing you hadn’t been active in almost twelve hours. You hadn’t even opened his message. 

His thumb hovers above the keyboard, not entirely sure what to say in this situation. Instead, he opts to call your number instead; you had always picked up to him; whenever he needed you to stay away from the house, or to remind you to be ready to leave at a certain time. The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, your voicemail comes through the speaker, signifying him that you were too busy to pick up the telephone. 

Charles didn’t grow concerned during the evening; he grew angry. You were his wife. You were supposed to be at the house to greet him, to welcome him with open arms, ask about his day. Even if…even if he had chosen to ignore your welcoming’s and kind heart for over a year. The man found a distraction in going through the information that Scuderia Ferrari had sent him for his journey tomorrow, making sure his passport was in the correct place. He hadn’t needed to pack; you had made sure to do that for him before your own departure, making sure his comfortable clothes were packed and sunglasses safely secured in the pouches of the case. 

It was late, late for you when the door finally opened, signalling the arrival of a second being. Charles immediately sits up from his slouched position on the couch, stepping up from the sofa, almost ready to give you a piece of his mind. Upon reaching the hallway, he sees you, slipping off your trainers, leaving the suitcase next to the front door. Even underneath your jumper, he can see your skin is glowing from the Mediterranean sun, yet your eyes are watering, tears leaking from your lower lash line. 

“Where on earth have you been?” He snaps, not actually wanting to hear an answer. You open your mouth to respond, but the man cuts you off before you can speak. “I am your husband. You’re supposed to wait for me!” His temper is getting the better of him, green eyes flickering with anger. 

At this point, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed from the news you had received on your drive home, and for this man to question your loyalties to your marriage? You can’t help the scoff which falls from your lips, the emotions building a little too much.

“You’re my husband?” You mock in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my husband was around at long last, not wrapped in the arms of another woman!” Your temper flares, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, grasping the suitcase to take upstairs and repack. 

“You didn’t pick up your phone once.” Charles retaliates. Oh, the cheek of-

“Like when you pick up your phone when I call?” The tears are beginning to flow freely now, wanting nothing more than to get upstairs and completely ignore what has been happening. “You don’t Charles. You’ve done nothing to show that you’re my husband in the past twelve months!” You can’t help yourself now. Instead of seeking the new suitcase, you simply turn around on the step of the front door, slipping your trainers back onto your feet. 

“Where are you going?” His voice is now laced in concern; you couldn’t leave yet, surely? You’d only just returned; you wouldn’t be safe to drive in this condition. Why on earth did he care now? His question is answered, but not in the way he desired. 

“Like you would care.” It’s the last thing you say before the door to the house is slammed shut. 

Charles Leclerc is an investigator. 

When arriving in the Ferrari Garage of Singapore, there’s already an eerie feeling through the air; there are no smiles, sympathising looks thrown towards the back end of the garage. The driver isn’t stupid, he knows something must be wrong. He’s unsure of who to ask; who would know what is going on? 

His original plan was to ask Xavi, maybe during their morning briefing, until he is told that his flight has been delayed and wouldn’t be there until the late afternoon. Eventually, he spots his racing partner, nestled in the corner of the garage, his eyes flickering across his own phone screen, rapidly typing a message to somebody he would rather not admit to. 

“Hey.” He speaks softly, not wanting to startle the man. Silently, Carlos looks up from his device, offering his teammate a small nod, not wanting to prolapse the eye contact for too long. Charles can sense he knows what has happened, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Why is everybody so…quiet?” 

The look on Carlos’ face signifies he’s said something wrong. His eyes darken, shaking his head in disappointment rather than fury. It correlates to the kind of look his father would give him during a long talk, when he had broken something and not admitted to it. The Spaniard isn’t sure he should even tell his teammate what had happened. Instead, he changes his phone application to the Emails App, handing the device over to Charles. His eyes flicker across the screen, taking in the information. 

Ferrari’s biggest benefactor, your father, would not be attending the race weekend after the untimely death of his wife. Your mother. It suddenly correlates; how the night before, you had seemed inconsolable, despite the fact you had obviously had an incredible vacation. You’d tried to simply walk away, to let yourself grieve without bothering him. Instead, you had found comfort in Carlos as he had driven you to the airport, whispering sweet words of comfort, promising that everything was going to be okay. 

Charles feels his blood run cold, he feels sick. The look on the man stood in front of him tells him enough; he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Murmuring an excuse, he leaves the garage, stepping to the secluded back area, the realisation that he is everything his mother never wanted him to be, hitting hard. He still had the ability to run to her, to ask for her advice. You didn’t have that anymore. You didn’t have anybody, least of all your husband. 

The first thing he does in that moment, is pull out his phone, scrolling to the contact of his mistress.

10:09: Charles Leclerc

We need to talk. 

Charles Leclerc is a phone call away.

The past day had been filled of tears, clinging to your father, to your younger siblings, to your elder cousins. How on earth your mother had left this world early was beyond you. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. Your mother was the one whom had been your rock for the past miserable year of your marriage. If not for her, you were almost certain that you would have thrown your silvery key to the house down a drain so long ago.

Without her guidance, without her tutoring, you felt like bird trying to fly individually for the first time; surrounded by fears and almost certain you’d fall into compromising position. 

You hadn’t rested. Not since you had arrived at the bleak family home. As customed, every curtain was drawn close, doors to each room sealed, no natural light emitting to the large house, making every shadow and crook of the building seem more terrifying. Eventually, your father had retired to his own bedroom, your younger siblings tucked into their beds, butterfly kisses pressed against their foreheads, a silent promise you were only down the hall if they so desired you. 

The bedroom you had grown up in remained almost identical to the one you had painted in your mind; pale pink wallpaper, a luxury bed lined with a rosebud-patterned quilt set. The vanity you had last used to get ready on your wedding day remained pristine, the perfumes and scents which had been your favourite still sitting atop of your shelf. And the photographs. A polaroid of your two closest friends from your childhood; one of your sisters on her christening day, the entire family dressed so elegantly; Charles is in that photograph, off to the side alongside his brothers; you had no idea there and then that boy with the ocean eyes would become your estranged husband. 

You could have continued going down memory lane, if not from the buzzing which was coming from your bed. The phone you had carelessly thrown atop of the blankets when first entering the room had finally got some service, a thread of text messages and missed phone calls beginning to filter through. Silently, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, eyes flickering across each message. Some are from members of the Ferrari team, others from family members you hadn’t heard from in what felt like centuries. 

There’s one. One from the man whom you had spent the previous week with. The one who had consoled you whilst travelling to the family home. Your husband’s teammate. 

23:05: Carlos Sainz

Mariposa, please let me know how you are doing. I’m so worried about you. Let me know if you need anything at all. 

23:31: You

Thank you, C. I should be heading home tomorrow, with a bit of luck I’ll be able to swing by and say hello. 

You hadn’t expected anything else that evening. You were settled, ready to focus on yourself for the remainder of the evening; in your eyes, there was a high likelihood that your siblings would be burrowing into your blankets later. Once dressed in nightwear, the makeup that had stained your cheeks removed, you noticed the soft glow of your phone screen. Another message had just been received, and in your wildest dreams, you could not have imagined whom it was from.

00:24: Charles Leclerc

I heard about your mother this afternoon; I am truly so, so sorry for your loss. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. I mean it. 

Your eyes had barely had time to view the message which had just been received, before your phone screen changes, taking the message away from your sight. The message thread is replaced by a photograph of your husband, his name lighting up on you phone screen. You don’t even think; instead, your thumb swipes across the screen, pressing the green button and holding the device to your ear. 

“Charles.” You speak one word, hearing your husband visibly relax on the other end of the line. You realise it’s the first time you’ve said anything coherent in hours; the tone of your voices echoes around the room. Did you always sound that sad when you spoke to him?

“Hey.” He isn’t too sure what he wants to say; the lack of conversation between the two of you means he isn’t aware if there are any boundaries, anything you wouldn’t discuss with him. No, he just wanted to speak to you, to check in. In reality, he had realised how lonely the house was as an individual. His mistress was gone from his contacts, not inviting her around to fill the void had made him realise how you had felt for oh-so-long. 

“How…” He pauses, not sure on how to finish his question. He doesn’t need to, because despite the lack of understanding of one another, you know he’s trying, trying to make you feel better.

“I’m…yeah.” You can’t find the correct words to say; ‘sad’ is an understatement, ‘fine’ is a rude response. Neither of you can find the words, but in that moment, you crave somebody who isn’t mourning the loss of your mother as heavily as you are. 

“We have some new neighbours.” He’s trying to find anything to create some conversation. It’s almost as if he knows the quiet of the room is making you feel uncomfortable. “They left us an invitation to join them for a tennis session- not that I’m any good.” He laughs to himself, remembering the previous time he’d attended a tennis game alongside his fellow drivers; he’d had to step out after a few minutes, completely terrified he would end up breaking his hand. 

He doesn’t hear anything from the other side of the line but continues to talk. “Are you…” He catches himself for a moment. “Are you coming back soon?” His voice turns into barely a whisper, as if saying the wrong thing will cause you to hang up immediately. He doesn’t hear anything for a moment, taking a gentle sigh and awaiting your response. 

“Yeah.” You pause. Are you doing this? Are you having a conversation with your husband? “I’m going to fly home tomorrow afternoon. I think my father wants space.” Your sentence closes, looking around your room. The silence is deathly; in that moment, you don’t care about everything that’s happened. All you want is for somebody to hold you in their arms and tell you it would be okay. 

“I’ll come and get you.” Charles has spoken before his mouth has had time to catch his brain. Your eyebrows quirk in confusion. The only time your estranged husband ever drove you himself was on your endless journeys to races; you would sit silently, curled away from his figure, eyes transfixed as the world passed by around you. The man not only offering but wanting to pick you up from the airport was a new-found curiosity. 

“It’s okay.” You don’t let him continue. If previous standings have taught you anything, it’s that behind those mesmerising eyes cannot be trusted. You knew the secrets that lied beyond the ocean settled in his eye. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.” Part of your heart is craving to bring up his mistress; how she would probably be warming his bed in the current moment, walking around the house which you ached to find comfort in. 

“You wouldn’t.” Charles is quick to respond; in his heart of heart, he knows getting you to trust him again would be a monumental task. He’d do anything to prove he would be the husband who would look after you. Who would love you unconditionally; the husband you deserved.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve landed, okay?” It’s your final compromise. The woman whom you had been twelve months ago would love nothing more than to run into Charles’ arms; whether he cared for you the way you did; you would always desire his attention and affection. You’d had to learn through the months that some of life’s biggest temptations had to remain untouched.  

Charles Leclerc is your husband.

Landing back in the country was almost eerie; despite being away for only a miniscule amount of time, you felt changed; changed by the loss of your closest companion, changed by the fact your husband had been the one to call you, and not to throw some crazy request down the telephone line. 

Arrivals, as always, were completely smothered; couples reuniting, children screaming at the sudden change of scenery. After obtaining your own bag, your eyes flicker through the never-ending crowds, desperate to find some recognition. 

Standing apart from the crowd, looking effortlessly rugged in his athletic shorts and hoodie, hair pushed underneath a snapback. His eyes are trained on you, as if he had sensed your presence into the room in less than a moment. The breath catches in the back of your dried throat, a pair of eyes that you trusted undoubtedly. Stumbling, your feet carry you over to the arms of your favourite Spaniard, your head instantly finding solace in the joint between his shoulder and neck, the cologne you were used to from his attendances around the paddock creating a cloud of comfort. 

Carlos’ hands effortlessly lock around your torso, pulling you tighter into his chest, one palm rubbing up and down your back. It was the first time, the first time in a long time that anybody had offered you this sort of affection. Mindlessly, the soft tears begin to pool at the bottom of your lash line. Soft snuffles emitting from your lips cause the man to hush you gently, pulling your face away from his body, cradling your head between his larger hands. 

He mumbles something quietly, something about taking you back to the house. If it was him, the man would bundle you into his car and drive to his own home. He’d nestle you under his bedroom blankets, dress you in one of his hoodies. Instead, his rough palm finds your soft fingers, intertwining your hands together. Carlos takes your suitcase in his free hand, guiding you to his car parked outside of the airport. 

Not much is said during the shortening journey back to the house; the tears glossing your eyes reflect the streetlights, transfixed on the roads which you had left for a few short days. The tears will continue to fall; her loss had taken a part of you that you would you never thought would return. The man to your right, eyes focused on the road can sense your heartbreak. He doesn’t wait to push you; he had spoken to you shortly after the news had originally broken, in that conversation, you had barely been able to say ten words before your voice cracked. Instead, Carlos rests a warm hand on your leg, a silent promise that he will be there no matter what. 

The journey feels too short; eventually the driveway to the house rolls into sight, Carlos slowing down the car. When it comes to a halt, he steps out immediately, obtaining your suitcase from the rear of the car, placing it down on the wheels. By this point, you’d wiggled from the seat, ready to wheel your case into the house. However, before you can move, his arms engulf you once more, clinging so tightly, your feet began to lift from the floor. You had clung back just as tight, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek; a silent ‘Thank you,’ for everything. 

The embrace ended, Carlos awaiting until the door had unlocked, nodding when he saw you safely enter the house. The building is practically silent; no television sounds, no gentle music, not even the whirr of Charles’ simulator in his downstairs office. Ears pricked, you could hear the jets of a shower from upstairs, the assumption that he must have been in the shower. Paranoia threads your mind, she wouldn’t be showering alongside, would she?

You don’t let your mind wander; instead, you focus on lugging the suitcase along the staircase, silently glad you had gotten further with it since your trip to Madrid. Beelining towards your room, the suitcase rolls behind you, resting it in the corner of the room, a silent promise you’d wash everything tomorrow. However, a delicate bouquet of soft, pink and fresh flowers decorated the vanity of the room; you knew you hadn’t bought flowers since Madrid, and these…They looked as if they’d been placed mere minutes ago. 

Overthinking had always been dangerous; instead, you keep yourself busy, wiggling your skincare bag from the suitcase, padding into your bathroom with that and a fresh set of long pyjamas; the late-night breeze had begun to tickle your skin since removing yourself from Carlos’ warm arms. The relish indulges your body, shampoo trickling through your hair, body wash bubbles tickling your body. You’d stepped out a few moments later, changing into the soft clothing, sitting in front of the mirror, brushing your hair out as carefully as you could have. 

Silently, your feet carry you from the en-suite towards the main bedroom. Standing at the head of the doorway, is none other than your husband, hair own hair damp from his shower, dressed in soft tracksuit bottoms and a tight tee-shirt. He’d seen your suitcase nestling in the corner of your bedroom, your phone had rumpled the blankets of your bed. Charles had been the one to hear the shower this time, deciding to wait, just to see your soft eyes.

They’re bloodshot; you look so…frail. The years of heartbreak littered across your face. Charles’ heart practically breaks; before you can say a word, he’s across the room, arms pulling around your torso, pulling your head under his chest. Your instinct tells you to fight it, why on earth would you accept some form of affection from a husband who had openly destined you for so long? 

And yet, you subcome to his affection, hesitantly holding your own arms to his chest. His scent, his warmth.You felt as if you were dreaming, eyes wet from the overwhelming care, feeling gentle kisses press to the top of your head. 

You don’t remember when Charles scooped you to his chest, tucking you into your fresh blankets before nestling in behind you himself. You remind yourself; this is a one-off. You’re almost certain that by tomorrow, he’ll be back in the arms of his mistress, your moment tonight will be an absent moment to your husband. You’ll take it; if it’s one night in his arms, feeling his breath against the back of your neck, tip of his nose pressing into your back, one hand pressed against your stomach in comfort, you’ll take it. 

Some point during the night, your phone buzzes, the sound barely audible on the blankets of your bed. You groan slightly, the bubble of yourself and Charles giving you a true form of sanctuary, a true form of home. Curiosity in the night takes the better of you, lifting the dying device to your eyes, slightly blinded by the glow of the screen. 

Despite being wrapped in the arms of your husband; you can feel your blood turn cold when you read the one sentence which had been left for you to find. 

01:46: Carlos Sainz

I’m in love with you. 

#F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Carlos Sainz #Charles Leclerc #CS55 #CL16 #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Charles Leclerc Imagine #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Charles Leclerc One Shot #Carlos Sainz One Shot #Reader Insert #Reader x Charles #Reader x Carlos #Formula 1 Imagine #F1 Imagine #Ferrari #Mercedes #Aston Martin #Fanfiction #Carlos Sainz x You #Charles Leclerc x You #Charlos

[bethelighthalazia]

Terrifying

Summary:  Your gentle giant of a boyfriend Yunho doesn't always know how strong he is. This is proven during a fight between you two when he throws his guitar.

Genre: angst

Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader

Word Count:  1944

Warnings: mean Yunho, arguing, swearing

networks: @newworldnet

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

It was late in the evening when your boyfriend of two years arrived home from practice. You had cooked his favorite for him and then waited for his return. In the morning, he had said his schedule would end at 6 pm today. Now, it was almost 11 pm. The table set, you had waited patiently, but when Yunho didn't come home at 8, you resorted to the sofa, curling up on it with Yunho's hoodie he left laying there in the morning.

You didn't notice the keys jingle in the lock, nor did you hear your boyfriend enter the shared apartment. You fell asleep only a few minutes after you had laid down on the sofa and were now deeply asleep. Yunho only let out a tired sigh when he noticed you, he didn't mean to be this late, dance practice took longer than he had hoped. Seeing the set table, he then quietly put the food away into the fridge, so the two of you could eat it the next day. Contemplating whether to move you to the shared bed or leave you on the sofa, Yunho's decision is made the moment you shuffle. He gently picked you up and then set you down on the king sized bed in the bedroom, covering you with a blanket and then left to take a shower.

The next morning, you woke up cuddled against Yunho's large frame, a soft smile on your face, but then you remember the last evening, he again came home much later than he had told you. How many times did he promise you to be home early, but then break this promise. But you never said anything, because you knew that he works hard, it's normal to have late work and practice as an idol. You know that. Then why did a tear steal its way from your eyes? Why did it upset you that he came home this late last night?

Because it was your anniversary. Because it's the second time this year that he forgot such an important date. First your birthday, now your anniversary. 

You tried to be quiet, to suppress the sob that built up in your chest, but his strong arms around you didn't let you leave the bed. Swallowing hard, you tried to shuffle out of his grip, but this movement woke him up too, causing you to wince mentally.

“Morning, love…” He hummed with his usual sleepy voice which, on any other day, would have made you smile, but today it just brought another tear from your eyes. You didn't turn around, just whispered “Morning Yuyu” and curled up. This actually made him frown,you usually would smile at him, turn around to kiss him and then cuddle and try to make him stay in bed with you. “You have schedules today, you should get ready soon.” A look at the alarm clock on your nightstand confirms your words, but Yunho shook his head behind you. “We don't have any schedules today and the next two days, so we can spend the day together.” 

Normally you'd be happy about those words, but this morning, you just couldn't. “Okay, let's do that. Are you hungry?” Even your voice lacked the usual enthusiasm, even though you're trying to be happy to have your boyfriend home and for yourself for three days. And of course Yunho would notice this, turning you around, so he could look into your face while talking. The sight of your tears lets him stop and frown though. “Are- why are you crying, love? Are you in pain?” His voice filled with concern, he doesn't even realize that he's the reason you're crying this morning. 

“Y- you really forgot, hm?” It's a simple question and while you swallow down the disappointment and hurt, you manage to give him a little, almost crooked smile. “It's okay though, you had a hard week, it's not your fault, Yuyu. We can celebrate it next year.” Those words cause his eyes to go wide. The dinner he had put away, you on the sofa, it slowly falls in place. It had been your anniversary and he really did forget about it. 

Although, after only a few seconds, his shocked expression turns into a frown, then into something that looks angry or annoyed. “You know that my work will always be like this, y/n. I have to practice and sometimes it makes me come home late. You knew this from the beginning.” He said, leaning back a bit to look at you, which leaves you with confusion. 

“I know that, Yuyu, that's why I said it's okay, I don't-” “Then why are you acting like I'm the bad guy now?” He cut you off, which is unusual for him. He always listened to you, never interrupting you when you spoke before. Swallowing to not start to cry in front of him now, you just nod and get up from the bed, but he grabbed your wrist. Not the usual gentle way though, his grip was a bit harsher this time.

“Hey, we’re talking, I asked you something, y/n.” Frozen in place, you just stay at the edge of the bed, swallowing down a sob before you try to answer confidently, but your words only come out in a whispered voice. “I didn't, Yuyu…please, your grip hurts.” You didn't look at Yunho, somehow scared of him at this moment, but thankfully he lets go of your wrist. The shuffling behind you caused you to wince, but he had turned his back to you when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. When the door closes behind you, you could hear a loud thump, he had slammed his hand on the nightstand with a little annoyed growl.

When you came out, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore, so you made your way to the living room, where Yunho sat on the sofa, playing a game on his console. He still looked angry, so you let him be and walked to the kitchen area, where you saw all the food from last night thrown away. “Yuyu, did you-” You started, turning to leave the kitchen, but you almost ran into him. “Why did you throw it away?” It was a simple question from you, but for some reason, it flipped something inside him, an annoyed look on his face again.

“Another thing to nag me about? It's not really edible, so I threw it out. Hand me that water, so I can go back to my game.” Nag him? You never nagged him about anything, where was this coming from now? “Yuyu, I-” “Yuyu, I. You what? Looking for another reason to cry about?” He mocked, pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen again, leaving you standing there, wondering what was wrong with him today.

You didn't know why he was like this, but you didn't like him talking to you like this, when you supported him all the time and never complained about anything to him. After a few moments, you follow him, swallowing the lump in your throat and stand in front of the TV now. You could hear the sound of his character dying in the game, but you didn't care. That is, until he stood in one move and started yelling. 

“What the fuck, y/n?? You just ruined hours of playing!” It's the first time ever that he's yelling at you and it hurts. “I don't care, Yunho! What's wrong with you today?” You're not yelling, the shakiness of your voice present as you try to speak up, tears already welling up in your eyes, but you don't cry. Yet.

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You wake up and cry about me being late, then you nag at me. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm working hard?!” You never before witnessed him this angry, and for the first time in the years you know him, you're scared of Yunho. “You know how fucking hard it is to always go to work, let everyone walk over me while I'm always nice to everyone? Be told that I have to practice more, to be perfect?!”

With only a few steps, he walks over to grab his guitar, holding it up. “And then, I come home later because I did fucking practice, and it's not good enough! No, my girlfriend has to cry about me forgetting to be home in time for dinner.” “It's not about the dinner, Yunho! I told you it's okay, why are you yelling at me now?” You tried to talk back, your voice isn't nearly as loud and stable as you had hoped though. “Why am i- maybe because I'm fuckin tired of you making me to be the bad guy here?! If it's okay and just dinner, why do you have to cry about it?!” With those words, he lets out his built up anger, throwing his guitar at the TV. With you standing near it, you flinch, eyes widen and when both things break and pieces split off and hit you, you can't hold back the sobs. 

The moment Yunho threw the guitar, he realized what he did, his eyes widened in shock, real shock this time. Not only about your sobs, but also because he hurt you. All the anger subsided immediately and he took a careful step towards you, but you just flinched and stumbled backwards. “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I didn't-” He whispered, his voice a stark contrast against the yelling only moments earlier. You knew he meant this, but you're terrified, dropping onto the floor in a sitting position as sobs shake your body and tears just run free. You didn't even register the pain yet from where the little pieces of debris had hurt you, nor did you care about them bleeding a bit.

“Please, let me- let me take a look…you're hurt, love-” You heard his voice, but only shook your head no, still crying. Letting out a heavy sigh followed by an own sob, Yunho quickly reached for his phone, calling his best friend and putting him on speaker the moment Mingi picked up. “Yunho? Yah, why do you wake me?” Mingi sounded as if he just woke up, but when he heard your quiet crying through the phone, he sat up in his bed, fully awake. “Is y/n crying? Wha-” “Yes, she is…can you come here? Right now?” It didn't need any more words for Mingi to hang up and hurry to rush into the apartment not even five minutes later. The apartment was not far from the dorms, which came in handy this time. However, when Mingi walked into the living room, he froze in place, seeing the shattered TV, the broken guitar and you sitting on the floor, crying and hurt.

He quickly stepped over to you, noticing you flinch when Yunho made the tiniest of movements. Mingi knew that Yunho always bottles up his anger and sometimes it just has to burst out, this time, it seems to have happened around you, which Yunho always tried to avoid. “Hey, it's okay y/nnie, I'm here. He won't hurt you, okay?” Mingi whispered, gently checking your wounds, which are merely little scratches and nothing too deep. Then, he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, gathered some of your things before just carrying you out of the apartment and took you to the dorms with him. 

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkiliciouss, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#kat writes <3 #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez yunho #ateez angst #ateez imagine #newworldnet

[explicit-tae]

Love You (Just A Little Too Much)

You're brought down memory lane and come face to face with someone you've completely forgotten about. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111 @minshookie29 @whipwhoops

Warning: smut, light yandere, teasing, sex toy usage, sub/dom, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, crying, restraints/bound, mentions of assault, manipulation, sadistic/masochistic tendencies, crying/sobbing, begging, slapping,

Word Count: 6.076

Valentine's Day Masterlist

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes blink at Jay, your boyfriend, and you could only offer a faint smile. “I don’t want to ruin dinner with my thoughts.” you reply. You drop your fork and grasp your glass of wine. 

Jay scoffs. “I can tell your head isn’t here,” he says. “Come on, tell me.”

You swallow your wine and lick your lips. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Jay raises a brow and leans in closer. He smirks. “So?” he murmurs. “I’m your boyfriend, you know. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

Jay was correct - he was your boyfriend and someone you’ve grown close to for the last year. You were able to speak with him freely as if he was your best friend and it came naturally even if he was the opposite sex.

You sigh and nod your head. “You’re right.” you say. “I…haven’t talked to any of my friends in months. It’s like we all slowly just…”

“Grew apart?” Jay offers and when you nod, so does he. “I understand. What do you think happened?”

You shrug your shoulders. You’re unsure yourself of the reason. There wasn’t any bad blood between the four of you - there was nothing that could be done to a group of friends that has been established since middle school. You all managed to make it through High School and college without breaking apart. 

Sure, there were a few petty arguments, but nothing that lasted months - hell, not even a full week.

Not speaking with them collectively had you nervous, but you were all adults. You four lived separate adult lives, Jang-Mi having moved hours away to start a new job. Minji had gotten married and divorce all under three years and had chosen to distract herself with work while Mi-sun focused on raising her daughter on her lonesome.

“And you haven’t spoken to either of them on the phone?” Jay questions.

“No.” you shake your head. “Only through text messages, but even those seem dry. Maybe I’m just overreacting.” you shake your head and release a humorless laugh. “Sorry. Today is supposed to be about us.”

Jay shakes his head. He offers you his hand and you take it. His hands are always soft, you notice, softer than yours. He presses a kiss onto your hand, soft lips tickling your skin. “It is about us.” Jay murmurs. “Today is our anniversary,” he continues. “but you’re still the woman I love and if somethings on your mind, I want you to talk about it.”

You love Jay - and this was one of the many reasons why. He was caring - genuinely caring. He always puts your wants and needs far beyond his own. A year isn’t a long time to be together for most people, but for you it was. You couldn’t see yourself being with another man, not when Jay was amazing as he was.

You met Jay a year prior while out, having bumped into one another. Literally. You recall the way your phone went flying and you nearly fell onto the ground when a pair of arms caught you - said arms had let you go immediately when you regained your balance. “I-I didn’t mean to grab you it’s-” the stranger began. “I’m so sorry I should’ve been looking where I was going.” you apologized profusely.

You learned that his name was Jay and as an apology, he asked you out for coffee. The two of you hit it off easily as he was a nice person to talk to. He was funny as he was kind and in the short time that you’ve known him, it was as if you and he knew one another for years. 

Maybe Jay’s physical appearance helped a little - he was tall and fit. He dressed appropriately each time you and him met and he even offered to help you dress so the two of you matched for the occasion. His skin was the clearest you’ve ever seen on a man and appeared utterly glass and he had such perfect teeth.

It was hard in the beginning to be seen with Jay simply because of how beautiful he was, but he always made it known just how beautiful he thought you were and how much he appreciated you for being by his side. 

“So,” Jay offers you a toothy grin. “talk to me like I’m your friend and not your boyfriend.”

You do, a part of you feels terrible about doing this while at dinner with him, but Jay was an understanding person. He could tell your head was elsewhere.

You tell Jay about everything - how you rarely saw your friends face to face and how you couldn’t even remember the last time you all spoke on the phone. You wanted to be understanding because the four of you were adults now and didn’t need to spend every waking moment together - but a call wasn’t asking for much.

At the end of it all, Jay is nodding his head in agreement. He hasn’t spoken much and instead decided to allow you to vent all your pent up frustrations. 

“Felt good?” Jay snickers and you nod with a low grin. “I’m glad. I can’t excuse your friends' behaviors but I can try to see things from their point of view.”

You listen as Jay speaks. 

“We’re all adults going through our adult lives. Jang-Mi had moved so far away it’s hard to go back into the routine you two had when she was closer. I’m sure she works long hours.”

You nod your head with a sigh, your heart sinking as you begin to feel bad for thinking that your friends were leaving you behind.

“Mi-sun is a mother and it’s tough raising a child on your own. She just doesn't live for herself anymore. Minji probably buries herself into work to get her mind off of the divorce. It wasn’t an…easy one.”

You recall the amount of times Minji had called you throughout the last year about how ultimately, she was going to be left with nothing after the divorce - Jay had been there the entire time listening as you tried to console your friend.

“You’re right.” you pick up your wine glass and take a sip. “We’ve all been through…so much.”

Jay raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

You eye him for a moment. 

“I think it’s karma.” you shrug your shoulders. “We were terrible people in our youth.” you try to joke but you swallow thickly. “What we’re going through now is just what we deserve.”

Jay chuckles. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” he takes a sip of his own wine. 

“Before I met you my life was going to shit. I couldn’t keep a job to save my life and…” there wasn’t a need to focus on what you were going through at that moment because Jay knew. “..you helped me. Sometimes I believe I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Y/N.” Jay sighs, but his lips stretch into a smile. “Don’t get too emotional on me.” he jokes. 

“I know…” you trail  off. “The divorce with Minji and how she had to work so hard  to get her life together. Jang-Mi left and got a new job hours away because of that scandal. Mi-sun had to raise a child all alone without any help that wasn’t us. I can’t sound crazy to believe our past actions had shaped our future.”

Jay is quiet as he hears you speak, so eerily silent that you glance away from him. “Or maybe I am crazy.” you murmur. “You aren’t.” Jay shakes his head. “Whatever…you  did in your past could have shaped the present. Truth is often stranger than fiction.” Jay grasps your hand into his own. “But you’re better now, Y/N. With me. You’ll never fall as long as I’m by your side.”

Jay gives you a smile that has your heart clenching.

The room is beautiful and you are positive that Jay put a lot of thought into decorating it for you. The amount of rose petals leading up to the bed was one gesture you loved, but also the candles that were lit. You pondered when he had time to do such a thing.

Jay wraps an arm around you and brings you closer to him. His lips are soft as they kiss along your neck.  “I love this color on you.” Jay compliments, his hand sliding your sides. “Black is lovely against your skin.”

Your body flushes at the compliment and you could only giggle, giddy at the way your heart jumps. Jay insisted on you wearing the lingerie - a black lace and mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. The stockings are high and stop mid thigh.

“I like this color on you.” you tell Jay. He’s dressed down from his suit from early. Now, he sports a silk, red robe that’s tightly loosely around him. His tan skin peaks from beneath it.

“Valentine’s Day is all about you. I want to make you feel good.” Jay kisses down your neck towards your collarbone, leaving slightly wet kisses. “I want to try something new.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when being told “something new”. You were laid onto the bed you share with Jay, his lips continuing to kiss down your body. His eyes flicker upwards at you and he offers a mischievous grin that has your legs quivering. 

“Something new” wasn't a robe tied tightly around your wrist and keeping you bound against your bed frame. You wouldn’t lie and say your body wasn’t filled with excitement - you and Jay never did this and sex was already enjoyable enough.

Jay licks his lips, his eyes meeting your curious ones. “You’re so beautiful. Always has been.” he murmurs, speaking aloud by himself. 

Jay forces your legs open, his hand wrapping more rope around your ankles that he then ties to the end of the bed frame. He proceeds to do the same thing to your free leg. 

“I can see how wet you are now.” Jay’s voice is deep and sultry, slowly consumed with his own lust. “You’ve always been the submissive type. The type to do whatever is asked of you.”

Jay’s hand trails teasingly up your leg, his fingertips feeling like feathers tickling your skin. 

Jay’s finger taps lightly at your clothed clit, smirking at you teasingly. His index forces itself through the mesh material and he slides it to the side. “So wet.” he murmurs. “Relax, baby. I have something you’d like.”

Your pussy clenches with anticipation and your eyes watch Jay get up from the bed. He goes to the side of the bed and appears to go through a bag. 

“I want you to feel good.” Jay says, turning towards you. Once more, your pussy clenches at the sight of the vibrator in the palm of his hand. “You’d let me, right?”

Hastily you nod your head, licking your lips with anticipation. 

Jay turns on the vibrator and it’s loud, the buzzing noise tingling through your ears. He places it on your thigh to tease you and it does so greatly. He slides it across your thigh closer and closer between your legs.

“Baby?” Jay hums, gently pressing the vibrator against your clit.  “There’s no lies between us, right?”

Your legs begin to shake at the vibrators pressure against your clit. “N-No.” you stutter out.

“Then you’d tell me what you and your friends did, right?” Jay questions, pressing the vibrator even harder against you.

You struggle against the rope restraints. “W-What are you talking about?” you sigh - more like a moan. Your stomach was bubbling and you couldn’t contain the rest of the moans releasing from your mouth. 

“Remember earlier…you said it must be karma why your lives have turned the way they did.” Jay begins to circle the vibrator against your clit. You’re so wet that it’s now fully coated in your sweet arousal. “Tell me what you’ve done that karma has come before you all?”

You aren’t sure what Jay is getting at and why he suddenly wanted to do this now. Your toes begin to curl.

Jay removes the vibrator from your swollen bud, his eyes dark with lust.  “Tell me.” he demands.

“I-I…nothing.” you shake your head, panting. Your lack of pleasure sends shock waves through your body. “Why are you-”

Your throat releases a shriek when the vibrator is brought back to your clit. Your eyes shut tightly as, once more, your thigh shakes. “Please-”

“You know,”Jay begins, circling the vibrator against you. “There’s four types of lies.”

“Jay…” the way you say his name causes his cock to jump in his pants. You’re full of lust and pleasure and he’s sure you’re not fully able to comprehend him.

“A white lie, a gray lie, a black lie and a red lie.” Jay continues. “A white lie is to first seek to help others. A gray lie is an in between; to partly help others and ourselves.”

Your toes begin to curl as Jay continues. 

“A black lie…” Jay trails off, his eyes boring into your face. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re panting. “...is pure selfishness. Nothing is gained from others when a black lie is told and it is used to purely get the liar out of trouble.”

Jay removes the vibrator once more and this time you cry out in protest. Your eyes snap open, sadden as you peer at Jay.

“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” he chuckles cruely, his demeanor changed from the caring boyfriend of just an hour early. Your body yearns for him regardless of this act. “You’re about to cry.”

“I just wanna cum, Jay.” you murmur in defeat. 

“Yeah?” Jay comes closer to your face. “A red lie…” Jay places the vibrator against your clit, this time pressing the buttons on the side to increase the power. “...is done solely out of spite. Revenge. To harm others.”

Your eyes never leave his, even with the amount of blinking you’re doing to remain conscious. You’re groaning now, body shaking with pleasure. 

“Can you guess which one I am, baby?”

What?

“If you guess right, I’ll let you cum.”

Your breathing increases and the only thing you can think about is cumming. “W-White.”

“Wrong.” Jay turns off the vibrator, but keeps it against your clit. “Can you guess which type of liar you are?”

“Jay…” you shake  your head. This act was making you impatient. “Please-”

“Tell me, Y/N. If you’ve done nothing in your past, then why have you and your friends gone through such terrible karma?”

“This act you’re doing is too much, Jay.”

“What act?” Jay scoffs. “Since you don’t know, baby. You’re a black liar. You’re selfish and you’re deflecting from your own involvement in the past.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “Jay…that isn’t funny-”

The vibrator turns on once more, shocking you. 

“As for me, I’m a red liar. None of you recognized me.” Jay speaks in a tone - monotone like; narrative. “You didn’t recognize Jay. Minji didn’t recognize Jung-ho. Mi-sun didn’t recognize Jong-seok and Jang-Mi never recognized Ju-ho…”

Jung-ho.

Jong-seok.

Ju-ho.

Jay.

“Jay…?” your intentions aren’t to moan, but you cannot help it. Jay is pressing the vibrator with such pressure that even now in this unknown situation, you cannot help but want to cum hard. 

Just as you were about to cum, you cry out once more when the vibrator cuts off. You’re trembling, your wrist burning as the friction of the robe rubs against them.

“My name’s not Jay, Y/N. You know my name.”

Your eyes widen slowly. “Stop.” you plead with Jay. “It isn’t funny anymore…”

“I never told you a joke.” Jay scoffs. “Look at me and tell me you don’t remember who I am, Y/N.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as goosebumps begin to erupt onto your skin. Your heart is beating outside your chest and you wished Jay would flip the switch and return to the boyfriend you know and love.

“Look. At. Me.” Jay grits out each word with such venom, his cheerful personality long gone. “It’s been a decade since High School but have I truly changed that much, Y/N?”

You remain silent, your eyes remain on the man in front of you. 

“I had to change schools because of what your friends said I did.” Jay murmurs, and as the words hit your ears your eyes begin to widen. 

Mi-sun lifts her hand up and hums, tilting her head. “I think I want pink.” she says. “But a soft pink, not a hot one.”

Jang-Mi snorts.

Mi-sun raises a brow at Jang-Mi, but she doesn’t respond. 

“Like this one?” Minji asks after rummaging through her tote of beauty items. She holds up a bright pink color - taffy. 

Mi-sun nods with excitement. 

You sit and listen to the exchange, head in Jang-Mi’s lap.

You were all in Mi-sun’s room, a room that was overly pink, but neither of the girls in the friend group complained. Her walls were white, but her bed - a large queen size that sat in the middle of her room - had a bubblegum pink comforter set with matching pillows. While her floors were hardwood, the rugs inside of her room were round and flamingo colored. 

“So,” Jang-Mi starts. “What is this year's dare?”

You sighed deeply, ready to hear just what the hell your friends had planned for you this year.

Every year your group of friends would dare one another to do something - anything - at the start of the school year. It was a tradition, after all, spawning since primary school.

The year prior, Mi-sun had dared Minji to walk in the boys locker-room “accidentally” and shower just minutes before the boys were done with their practice. Minji was the daredevil of the group and accepted it without a problem - even if she did have a months worth of detention and had several boys profess their “undying love” for her.

While Minji’s dare were dare-devil like, Jang-Mi’s were spontaneous. Her dare the year prior was to smoke bomb the teacher lounge - that earned her two months of detention (thanks to her uncle being the principal).

“You,” Minji points to you. “And you,” she then points to Mi-sun. “Need to step it up. Jang-Mi and I always do the impulsive dares!”

You lick your lips. “My dare last year was pretty impulsive.”

It wasn’t. The dare you agreed upon was to egg the principal's car - you weren’t caught and maybe that’s what they were upset about. Your poor principal was going through it and his niece never appeared to care much.

Jang-Mi rolls her eyes and snickers. “Egging a car is pretty impulsive.” she says with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Okay, let’s start then.” Minji claps her hands together. “Jang-Mi, I dare you…” Minji hums, her mind wandering as to what she would possibly say. “It’s like we’ve done everything already.”

“We have.” Jang-mi looks down at you. “This year is about you and Mi-sun.”

Mi-sun finishes painting her right hand and she raises a brow. “No fair.”

“Too bad.” Jang-Mi smirks. 

“I agree.” Minji smiles wide. “We have to think of something good. So we’ll start tomorrow.”

Your stomach churns at the thought of them coming up with something impulsive - it was your last year of highschool after all.

Mi-sun rolls her eyes. “I’m not scared.” she snaps.

“I’m scared.” Mi-sun hisses, hands trembling with wide eyes.

“Pussy.” Jang-Mi giggles. 

There was a few minutes before class started and it was as if Jang-Mi and Minji were ready to start the day off with a bang. 

“It’s not like it’s that difficult.” Minji hisses. “Just go ahead and kiss him.”

“You dared her to kiss a professor.” you deadpan - but you’re glad this dare wasn’t yours. Minji and Jang-mi had claimed they hadn't come up with anything yet. 

The yet scares you.

Said professor walks by - Professor Song. He’s tall, dark brown hair with matching eyes. He’s young, only a few years older than those he is teaching and an obvious eye-candy for the female students. He nods his head and waves at a few students as he strolls pass and Jang-Mi proceeds to push Mi-sun forward.

You gulp. This dare was a risky one. It was just a kiss yes, but this was a kiss between someone that had authority. Professor Song could lose his job - and teaching career - if this went the wrong way. 

Professor Song hisses at the impact of Mi-sun knocking into him. His glasses are knocked off of his face and it drops onto the ground beside him. He lowers himself to grab it and Mi-sun bites her lip before doing the dare.

Mi-sun presses her lips against Professor Song’s. It was a quick peck, but it stuns the man nonetheless. He stumbles back a bit and before he could speak, Mi-sun is running down the hall to her classroom with Jang-Mi, Minji and you following close behind. Jang-Mi and Minji are laughing while you’re too bewildered to speak.

“That. Was. So. Humiliating!” Mi-sun hisses as she reaches the classroom. Class was about to start and her face was as red as a tomato. “I swear if I’m expelled-”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Minji shrugs it off. She reaches her desk - besides Mi-sun, and sits. 

“Uncle knows of our yearly dares.” Jang-mi assures. “He should be expecting this by now.”

You take your seat behind Jang-mi. 

“Now all that is left is our little Y/N.” Jang-Mi turns and offers a wide grin. “Aren’t you excited?”

No, but you wouldn’t cower before them. 

“Whatever.” you grunt.

Your teacher comes strutting in. He’s a short older man with a large gut - a beer gut you’re certain. His arms are as skinny as his legs and his face is similar to a skeleton. You never even see the man eat, but he always had a water bottle in his hands that smells of vodka when he opens it.

“Kim Mi-sun.” he calls as he slams down a black briefcase. “Office.” he says without looking at the body of students. He takes a seat at his desk and Mi-sun groans with annoyance.

“That was fast.” Minji giggles quietly. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes.”

“Fuck off.” Mi-sun hisses. She gathers her things and makes her way out of the classroom just as more students are scurrying inside. 

“Hey, Y/N.”

Your eyes lift to see the source of the greeting and you offer a small - very small and uninterested - smile to the boy seated a few desks in front of you. 

Jang-Mi watches the exchange and she turns her head to Minji. She wiggles her eyebrows and tilts her head to the boy. 

“Who’s that?” she mouths.

Jang-mi shrugs. “Not sure.” she mouths back. “Y’N’s dare.”

Minji furrows a brow, eyes shining with realization. She erupts in a fit of giggles that causes Jang-Mi to do the same. 

Your fingers twirl a piece of your hair as your eyes watch him a few seats away from you. Your ears catch the whispered conversation of your friends besides you. 

"When are you going to say something?" asks Mi-sun with a roll of her eyes. "The dare was a week ago."

Your gum pops dramatically after Mi-sun's question. You manage to roll your own eyes, but you don't take them off of him - Jung Hoseok. His cheeks are childishly chubby, he was tall, but thin - even for a senior in high school. He wore braces and you couldn't imagine him without them - they have been implanted in his teeth for years now. 

You were no fool to Jung Hoseok's crush on you. You noticed the side eyes he'd give you in class. When your eyes met his, his eyes would blink away, and his cheeks would turn to a deep crimson. It was cute, you thought, pathetically so. As did your friends. They would laugh each time they saw Hoseok looking at you, claiming that he was nothing but a lost, kicked puppy. You'd laugh along with them even if you did see the embarrassed look on his face. 

Your friends enjoyed teasing Hoseok so much that they thought it would be an amazing idea for you - his crush - to go along with the teasing. "Ask him out. Lead him on." suggested Mi-sun. "Then break his sad, pathetic heart." laughs Jang-Mi.

You thought about their request. You never spoke to Hoseok before and never had the reason or desire to. What you knew of Hoseok was that he was smart, not straight A smart like most, but he passed his classes. He wasn't popular when it came to friend groups and opted to stay to himself or a small set of friends. 

"Oh my..." Minji hums, she leans back into her chair and crosses her arms. She just cut her long, black locs to a sharp bob. The new appearance makes her much more intimidating. "...you like him." she declares.

"I do not." your eyes glance to Minji hurriedly. "I just...he's a loser."

Mi-sun giggles and agrees.

"I don't want to be associated with a loser." you reach into your uniform skirt pocket and remove a small tube of lipgloss. You proceed to coat your lips slowly with the glossy substance, eyes on Hoseok just in time for his eyes to meet yours. His eyes glance down to your lips - plump and coated - and his cheeks flush. 

Minji cackles, followed by Mi-sun and Jang-Mi. Hoseok's head snaps away and you know he's mentally cursing at himself.

"Look at him." Minji scoffs with a shake of her head, appearing to have pity for Hoseok. "He is a loser."

"Much the more reason to play with him." Jang-Mi singsongs. She was always the much more mischievous type in the friendship. She enjoyed playing tricks and pranks, no matter how cruel they were. Min-sun would be considered the "ditzy" one of the group, but she was just as mischievous as Jang-Mi, maybe even more.

You can feel their eyes on you now. Min-sun bats her eyelashes, cat-like eyes stabbing holes into you. Jang-Mi tilts her head impatiently awaiting your response while Minji does nothing but glare. 

"If you don't, I will." Jang-Mi smirks, and now you're shaking your head. Hoseok wasn't an asshole like the rest of the boys at this school. He didn't deserve whatever cruel prank Jang-Mi would surely throw his way. 

"I'll do it." you roll your eyes and laugh. You proceed to bite your lip. "I'm sure it'll be fun."

Fun it was. You started the following day, but you remained subtle. It would cause alarms to go off in Hoseok's mind if you casually strolled up to him and became flirtatious. You didn't want to scare him off - especially if Jang-Mi's words of Hoseok being a virgin rang true. You had a plan, instead. Hoseok and you shared multiple classes and in each one, you would offer him a small smile. Your smile soon became a short wave that he would return - after looking around to ensure you were indeed waving at him and not someone else. 

Minji had grown bored of the slow burn happening before her. When you had strolled into class and ready to sit at your desk, she had slammed her foot against your chair and shook her head. She jerks her head to the side, and you follow her gaze - a desk directly next to Hoseok remains empty. 

You took a deep breath and nodded. 

You drop your bag at your new desk, startling the box next to you. His eyes slowly reached to who was beside him. His eyes catch your legs, smooth and seemingly soft. He drags them forward slowly until they notice your eyes. He freezes, heart thumping outside his chest. 

"Is this seat taken?" you ask lowly, a smirk forming on your glossy lips. 

Hoseok shakes his head but remains quiet. His palms grow sweaty, and he's worried suddenly if he remembered to wear deodorant. 

You sit beside him, eyes glancing to Minji who raises a brow at you, nodding her head. You weren't going to be able to go back to your regular seat until you did something to get closer to Hoseok.

Class starts and you go without speaking with Hoseok, even if you do notice his eyes glancing your way every few minutes. However, you understood your part in this assignment. You'd accidentally - purposely - would brush your knee on his and apologize with a cute smile. You'd proceed to lean closer towards him so your side would briefly touch his.

Hoseok's mind was going crazy the following weeks. You continued to sit beside him day by day. Your touching now was much less subtle and he's unsure of what to take of it. You never appeared to be interested in him before. He was no idiot - he was certain you caught on to his crush on you. Maybe that's why - you pitied him and his pathetic crush.

"H-huh?" Hoseok blinks a few times and shakes his head. His cheeks are tinted red with further embarrassment.

"I said," you grasp your bag and lean forward. The bell rang and it was time for lunch, but Hoseok was far too in his thoughts to notice. "do you want to come home with me?"

Your breast peaked through the uniform top and Hoseok nearly fainted at your words. He's tongue tied and soon you're cackling. 

"To study for the test, silly." you're laughing a melodic laugh that calms Hoseok's nerves. "I've seen your grades on the quizzes we had. You're so smart, Hoseok."

You think he's smart, Hosoek gulps.

"I wish I could be as smart as you." you sigh almost dramatically. 

"Y-you are....smart." Hoseok mentally shoots himself at the lame compliment.

"Thank you." you tilt your head. "So, what do you say?" 

Hoseok nods his head hesitantly. He understands that he'd want nothing more than to have you close to him. But, he couldn't be as desperate - he didn't want to scare you off. "I can come study." he murmurs lowly. 

You clap your hands together gleefully. "Thank you!"

Hoseok allows his heart shaped lips to smile at you. You looked beautiful when you were cheerful.

"We can walk home after school, okay?' you're walking backwards waiting for his response.

"Okay." Hoseok nods, heart beating outside his chest and goosebumps erupting the skin of his arm.

That was only the beginning of what happened with Hoseok - not Jay.

“Hoseok…?” you murmur, your eyes scanning his face while your mind compares it to the younger version of the man. Shame and humiliation runs through you - how could you not remember the boy; now a man?

“Ah, that’s what it took for you to remember me?” Hoseok begins to laugh, his beautiful teeth shining in front of you. “Mi-sun didn’t remember me either but she loved Jong-seok as the father of her daughter.” Hoseok shakes his head with a chuckle. 

Your blood runs cold at Hoseok’s words.

“Years ago…I remember her stating that I would never be someone she’d ever love…fuck…yet that child is mine and I don’t feel any remorse for leaving her alone and struggling.” Hoseok chuckles once more. “Ju-ho was the reason Jang-Mi had to find a new job hours away. Especially when it was revealed she was stealing from the company…”

“Hoseok, please-”

“Of course it was just a rumor but something like that doesn’t go lightly, Y/N. Her career was over and the only job willing to hire her after that…” Hoseok shrugs. “...and, Jung-ho was the one who introduced Mini to her cheating husband. He never took her seriously like she never took anything in others' lives seriously. What goes around comes around, I suppose.”

Hoseok wasn’t Jay - Jay was an act. Hoseok was cold; calculated. He strived off of revenge and spite; and the red robe he wore told you just how calculated the man truly was. 

“Hoseok…”

You’re unsure what you want to tell him. You never thought you’d see Hoseok again - much less like this. 

Hoseok tilts his head. “I didn’t tell them who I was, you know”? he admits. “I just left when my time was done.”

“Hoseok.”

“You are different, Y/N. You always were.” Hoseok presses the vibrator button and allows the pleasure to come back. “You felt remorse for what you’ve done. You admitted that I never assaulted you like your friends had said…but by then it was too late.”

Hoseok presses the buttons on the vibrator three more times and your back arches at the newfound pressure. 

“I had to change schools and only because you spoke up I wasn’t put on any registry.” Hoseok explains, his eyes fixed on how your pussy begins to leak with arousal. “Back then you pretended to like me. You allowed me to take you on dates and admit things I would never had the courage to if you never made me comfortable.”

“Please…” you pleaded, unable to talk more than one word at a time. “It’s too…much.”

“You can take it.” Hoseok grumbles, voice raspy. “You allowed me to hold your hand. You kissed me back. You…you liked it, Y/N. Only when you were caught did you back down.”

Hoseok knows you’re cumming. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your breath hitches - and he enjoys every moment of it.

“To cover up the fact that you liked it, you pushed me away, remember?” Hoseok slams a hand against your cheek to regain your attention.

 You yelp aloud, a wave of pleasure going through you. “Y-Yes!”

“You were so humiliated…frightened at what your friends would think.” Hoseok slaps you again, positive that you like what he’s doing to  you. “But I knew you adored being around me, Y/N.I was the only person you didn’t have to pretend with.”

Hoseok removes the vibrator just as you cum, you arousal coating the bed sheets. The vibrating sound echoes through the room, mixed with your low sobs. 

“I thought about what punishment you all deserved but I could never bring myself to punish you.” Hoseok speaks after a moment. He allows you to catch your breath. “Even when I met you a year ago, Y/N, it felt like it did when we were in High School.”

You flinch when Hoseok touches your face. 

“You’re flinching as if I’d ever hurt you.” Hoseok shakes his head. “I got you out of your own debt, remember? I helped uplift you while your friends were going through their own karma. I did.” Hoseok speaks, each word his voice raises higher and higher. “Right?”

“Hoseok please-”

“Right?!”

You flinch once more at the shout. “Yes.” you respond meekly. “I-I didn’t mean to go that far with you.”

“I know, baby.” Hoseok discards the vibrator and places both hands onto your face. “I know,” he repeats. “That’s why I chose to forgive you and give you another chance. Now you and I could truly be together.”

Hoseok frightened you - deep  down you tell yourself that Jay was in there somewhere. A year of loving one another, there was never any slip up. Jay cared for you. He loved you unconditionally and put you before anything.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes, Y/N.” Hoseok sighs. “You’re not scared of me. You’re scared of the situation. I would never hurt you or I would have already.”

That doesn’t make your heart beat slow.

“You and I could be together again truthfully. We can continue to love one another.” Hoseok kisses along your face, the same feathery kisses that Jay would give you. “No Mi-sun, no Jang-Mi, no Minji. Just you and I.” he speaks again, his lips pecking yours. “Right?”

Jay always loved you, but this was Hoseok and at the moment, Hoseok terrified you to the core. You were nothing without Jay and you allowed Jay to fully take care of you like he insisted.  

“Yes.” you nod, defeated and unsure of what to do. Your bound wrist hurt as did your ankles. 

“I love you, baby.” Hoseok pecks your lips once more, smiling into it.

You were sure Jay loved you, wherever inside Hoseok he was residing - and that fact was the only thing keeping you from crying further.

#hoseok x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yandere hoseok #bts yandere #love you just a little too much #explicit-tae #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #btsmasterlist2023 #hoseok smut #angst #bts stalker #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #stalker hoseok

[missroki]

HONEY, I’M HOME! | ONE-SHOT

put the champagne on ice because it’s time for a celebration! your husband knows he won’t be home in time for your anniversary dinner, but surely you can find another way to entertain yourself. speaking of which… what was that noise?

content: female reader x satosugu, reader wears dresses and has acrylic nails, threesome, c*cking, oral (reader receiving), male m*sturbation, cheating, fingering, cum eating, breeding, mention of pregnancy and children, neglectful husband. word count: 2.4k

suguru isn’t surprised, really, when he enters his home to find that the table is already set. tall ivory candles sit half melted in their brass holders, lines of wax hardened on their polished sides. he can tell by the disheveled state of the kitchen that you must have worked hard on dinner tonight. it’s what you always do when he comes home from an overseas trip. today is no exception.

it makes him regret being late again, but not enough to have phoned home, hoping you wouldn't be too angry at him if he showed up with a pretty diamond brooch. he toes off his dress shoes, tosses them recklessly so that they hit the side table. he loosens his tie as he calls out your name.

silence. not even your irritable humming that he’s grown to tolerate.

when he doesn’t hear a response, sugur peers into the coat closet. empty. and walks the few paces into the home to check the guest bathroom. also empty. to his surprise, he doesn’t find you cheekily hiding in it to surprise him. considering the very long text message you’d sent him to remember your anniversary — he expected you to greet him at the door in one of your pretty little dresses and push him into the dining room with a glass of red wine. 

ever since the two of you moved into this neighborhood, you’ve played the role of pretty, doting housewife. you mingled frequently with the older more seasoned women, gossiping on brunch dates about your husbands and kids. you even started appeasing the neighborhood watch with baked goods and begged suguru to give hefty donations into the construction of new homes.

you wanted desperately to be accepted, for them to not see the old you under the expensive makeup and designer clothes. of course, your husband knew how important this was for you. how lonely you got when he was away.

you wanted a family, three kids minimum with one big dog and two cats. later, suguru had said, once we settle in and build a life. but you were getting impatient, he could tell. your kisses were getting lighter, your sex life fizzling out after the third time he’d insisted on cumming on your tits instead of in your cunt. 

you stopped going to your brunches and would barely get out of bed most days. it’s one of the few reasons why suguru spent so much time working. your sad eyes made him feel guilty, the way you dragged yourself out of bed only to cook and shower made him feel off-kilter. he had tried shopping sprees and fancy dinners but it wasn’t enough for you… until one day it just was.

he couldn’t explain it but you’d recently started going out again, socializing with neighbors and going to barbecues. you’d even let him touch you, practically riding him within an inch of his life after weeks of nothing. with your anniversary now here, suguru was certain he had helped you come to your senses, but where were you?

the man makes his way down the main hall, releasing the upper half of his hair from its confining bun. he hopes you aren’t in bed again, or if you are that you’re laying there bare and prepped. he lifts a hand up to run through his black strands, only to pause midway as he hears a steady… thump. 

thump thump thump he hears a few doors down. it seems you are in the bedroom as expected but…

“he’s gonna be home soon! we need to— ah! —we need to s–stop.”

a man’s voice responds to you, one that makes the hair on the back of suguru’s neck stand up. "fuck you’re so tight, don’t think about him, baby. focus on me."

suguru feels his mouth dry out as he moves further down the hallway, eyes widening as he stands outside your bedroom door. the closer he gets, the thumping turns into wet slaps. what he imagines are strong hips colliding against your own as you claw at the bedsheets; an action you had always done with him because you were his. there was no possible way you’d let his best friend fuck you in his own home. you would never.

“t–toru please, i–i need you!"

you wouldn’t.

"yeah, baby?” suguru can hear you gasp, knowing satoru must have found that soft doughy spot inside you. “that’s the spot isn’t it?”

the door is not wide open, but just enough that suguru can see his worst nightmare playing out in front of him.

his eyes zero in on the way your legs are wrapped around satoru’s tapered waist, your arms clinging to his broad shoulders as his strong hips meet yours. you look so blissed out, tilting your head back in ecstasy to give his best friend access to the sensitive skin of your neck. how could he? how could you?

you took your vows with him, it was suguru who took you in when you were nothing but poor trash on a street corner. him who begged satoru to not tell his parents how you really met. the thought of you betraying him this way makes his hands curl into fists.

he can’t help but feel jealous, how could he not? and who were you to make him feel jealous? you’re angry at him for neglecting you; spreading your legs for someone that suguru always felt second best to. you’re punishing him, you must be.

even so, he can’t will himself to intervene. he wants to drag you both out of his house and throw you back on the curb. he wouldn’t even let you grab your clothes — no. he wanted you exposed and cold on the porch so that all your neighbors knew how much of a whore you truly were. would they see his friend’s spend dripping down your supple thighs onto the pavement? see your nipples harden as you tried to cover yourself up?

even with all this anger, suguru can’t tear his eyes away from the sight. he thought he’d heard every whimper and moan from you but… not like this. you were so loud and out of breath, voice cracking as you clawed at satoru’s back with your pretty acrylics. you’d never been so good for him, so pliant.

he's still pissed, furious even. but from his position at the door he can see so much; satoru’s fat cock disappearing into your sloppy pussy; the shake of your tits with each thrust and the way satoru wraps his tongue around your perky nipples. suguru can even see the red crescents in your skin from where he grips the fat of your thighs.

he’d been with you more times than he could count but… suguru has never seen this much of his best friend. maybe in high school he’d had little peeks in locker rooms but right now he can see the muscles of his back vividly, how they turn and flex with each thrust. he can see the way satoru’s sweat drips down onto your body, his hand coming up to push soaked white strands back out of his face.

it’s only when his cock stirs in his slacks that suguru is honest with himself. he was jealous not only of satoru, but of you, too. he wanted to be pressed between the two of you, burying his cock in your hole while satoru plowed into his from behind.

he imagines worshiping your body with his tongue as satoru gripps his dark strands, bangs falling into his eyes as you begged him for more. more.

"you’re so pretty like this," satoru buries his face into your neck, pulling you tighter against his body so that you are chest to chest. "suguru doesn’t make you feel this way, does he?”

"n–no. never!”

“then tell me i’m better.”

“you’re — oh fuck — you’re better! ‘toru, i’m s–so close."

"yeah? can feel you squeezing me, does it feel that good?" he’s teasing you, just the way you like.

"fuck," suguru closes his eyes, his palm rubbing against his slacks, gripping his throbbing cock to the wet sounds of another man pounding into you. it’s so fucked. he knows this. but he can’t stop himself from unbuttoning his pants and tugging his cock out of his boxers. you didn’t know he was there but you both owed it to him. he just wanted a taste of what you had.

his breath hitches when satoru suddenly pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach before slamming back into your cunt. your body is pressed into the mattress, screams muffled as satoru fucks you at a agonizing pace. suguru starts to slowly pump his cock, letting a glob of spit land on his hand as it mixes with his precum.

he tries his best to match satoru’s thrusts, focusing on the way your ass jiggled everytime his hips slammed into the soft flesh. he can already tell from here that your skin will have bruises. how many times have you said no to sex to cover up the marks, satoru’s scent still on your skin? how many times did he find you asleep in bed, just narrowly missing his best friend sneaking out the back door?

“fuck! faster, p–please!”

"shh, it’s alright, baby. i’ve got you."

"i–i love you, ‘toru." suguru can see you push yourself back to meet satoru’s thrusts and he grips his cock harder.  “cum inside me.”

god, he’s fucking you raw, isn’t he?

satoru moans out your name, pressing his face into your spine. you bend so prettily for him, force yourself to be smaller so that he can take up all of the room you have left. “i love you, too, sweet girl. gonna get you pregnant, yeah?”

you arch your back even further, looking behind you for the first time only to lock eyes with your husband in the doorway. your makeup is wrecked, your hair in disarray. you can’t help but to shiver at the intrusion, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

and something about the… way your pleasure filled gaze turns into fear has suguru cumming suddenly, grunting and failing to keep his moans at bay as he shamefully covers the wood floors and the front of his pants.

he doesn’t have time to question why satoru doesn’t seem fazed, the man gently pushing your head back down against the bed and continuing to chase his high. you gasp and try to lift yourself back up.

"hold on! satoru—"

"thought i told you to ignore him?" he says, a sly grin on his face. satoru glances back at his friend and lets out an amused laugh at his disheveled state. “never took you for a voyeur, suguru. isn’t your wife such a good girl?”

you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and satoru lifts his hands to squeeze your ass, spreading you open to spit on your hole. “gonna breed this tight little cunt like it deserves. couldn’t wait around for you to do it, right?”

suguru watches with bated breath, a hand lifting to grip the doorframe. he continues rocking his hips into his soiled hand. “be quiet,” he growls, shame traveling up his chest as a blush trickles up his neck and cheeks.

satoru doesn’t slow down and you’ve all but fallen limp in his arms. as he finally cums, satoru makes sure to be loud, making a show out of the final spurts of white that he pushes deep inside your womb. he pulls out slowly, hissing as he watches your pulsing heat fight to keep him inside.

satoru  glances back at the doorway.

“i know you’re angry at me or whatever, but i’m all spent and she still hasn’t came.” the white haired man looks at suguru with almost crazed eyes. “help her out, won’t you?”

at first, you look up at him in shock. “satoru–”

“this is what you wanted, right? for him to notice you.” he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, dragging you to the edge of the bed like you weigh nothing. “seems like a perfect opportunity to me, then.”

suguru watches as the two sets of eyes look at him expectantly, his hand going still as he weighs his options. “this stays between us, satoru” he chastises, making his way over to the bed and dropping to his knees.

“don’t worry, your perversion will be safe with me.” he sends him another dazzling grin, pressing a kiss to your knee. “now, get to work. you’ve neglected her long enough.”

suguru looks at the mess between your legs, salivating at the sight. his cum covered hand grips your thigh, the other spreading you apart to watch the way your pussy pushes satoru’s cum out in buckets. he leans in to lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, both of your juices coating his tongue in a salty glaze. “so good,” his voice is muffled as he moans, using both hands now to keep your thighs from closing around his head.

“sugu!” you gasp, satoru leaning over to tweak your sensitive nipples with his thumb and forefinger. you struggle against the overwhelming sensations, gripping on your husband’s dark hair as he fucks his tongue into you while simultaneously trying to move away from satoru’s hand.

you know you won’t be able to last long like this, your thighs shaking as suguru begins to thrusts his cum soaked fingers into your cunt. you feel a familiar pressure against your belly but something foreign lies underneath it.

“w–wait i don’t,” you whimper. “i’m gonna–”

a burst of liquid pours out of you, soaking your husband’s face as you spasm against him. “holy shit,” satoru sings, “look at you go!” suguru is drinking you in like a man starved, sucking and nuzzling his face into your cunt.

“sorry!” you whimper as you ride out your high, “‘m so sorry!”

suguru can barely remember his name over the ringing in his ears.

when you start to whine from overstimulation, satoru grips the back of his friend’s head and lifts him away from you. his face is ruined, dripping with both of your juices and his eyes looking even more hooded than usual.

satoru smiles down at him. “isn’t she amazing? put on a good show for you, yeah?”

suguru’s chest heaves as his dark eyes connect with deep blues. “i hate you,” he groans, roughly pushing away the hand in his hair.

satoru laughs, pulling you into his arms so that your back is against his chest. “hey, sweet girl,” you gaze up at him with drooping eyes, his hand gripping your chin. “you got one more for me? i think your hubby is hard again.”

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes. #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x female reader #geto x female reader #gojo x black reader #geto x black reader #gojo x geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #gojo smut #geto smut #angelshubnetwork

[navybrat817]

I saw an Instagram reel - https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2H-mV3y2ng/?igsh=dHNlYWl2N3RpbWdz - that immediately made me think of Stud and Smartie! They’re one of my favorite pairings that you write about and I can never get enough of their story, they are perfect for each other! 🥰❤️

I hope you have a good weekend, Navy 🥰

I love this, nonnie, and it's very Stud and Smartie coded!

Just Because

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets you a card just because.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Lovelies, your girl is worn out, but I hope you enjoy this Stud and Smartie ficlet. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you let yourself into the apartment, but quickly smiled when Alpine and Soot rushed to see you at the door. They brushed against both of your legs once you got your shoes off and set your keys down, your smile widening when they purred. You half expected Bucky to call out to you or make a joke that the cats were crowding his girl, but all that greeted you was silence.

No music, no television, nothing.

“Honey, I’m home!” You called out, frowning when Bucky didn't answer. “Where is he, huh? Is he taking a nap?” You asked, crouching down so Alpine could rub her head against your hand. Soot patiently waited until she was done for his turn. Like Bucky, he was crazy about his other half. You were convinced that was the case.

Okay, but if he’s actually taking a nap, I’m crawling into bed with him because I deserve all the naps and cuddles and orgasms. I mean, it’s not like I did anything extremely worthy of those things today, but adulting is hard, so I actually really do deserve love and warmth and hot sex.

You ceased the ramblings in your head as you headed toward your room to get into something comfortable that you didn't plan to be in for long. You felt your heart jump when you saw an envelope taped to your door, a smile spreading across your face when you recognized Bucky’s handwriting. It had to be something special or important, otherwise it would've been a post-it note.

But what is it?

You lightly bounced on your feet as you carefully took the envelope from the door. Part of you hoped it was not the first clue to a scavenger hunt. Not that you wouldn't enjoy that, but you wanted to set something like that up for him as a birthday surprise. Or a romantic gesture.

He deserves it.

Happiness bloomed inside you when you opened the card. It was reminiscent of the puzzle he had made for you when he revealed his feelings to you, the different pieces creating a heart. There was even a smaller envelope that held the “missing piece” for you to finish it.

YOU COMPLETE ME.

You thought your heart would burst from how full it was.

Gasping when you felt a warm, familiar chest against your back, you smiled as Bucky pulled you back against him by the hip. “This is beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

It isn't our anniversary. Not my birthday. Already engaged. Wait, was it the first time we made a pizza together? Is it the anniversary from the first time I blew him?

Bucky chuckled as if he read your mind. “I’m glad you like it. And there’s no occasion for it.”

“Okay then,” you said, whining when he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “So, why get me such a nice card then?”

It was a sweet gesture. One he clearly put some thought into since the card looked homemade. You'd have to get it framed.

“I got it for you just because I was thinking of you. I got it just because,” he said against your ear, making you shiver. “Because I love you, Smartie.”

He is the most romantic, perfect man and I will not burst into tears. I won't.

You turned in Bucky’s arms so you could face him, taking care not to drop the card as you put your hands around his neck. Tears sprang to your eyes anyway when he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours. Love was in the small things and he reminded you of that every day.

“I love you, too, Stud,” you whispered, watching his blue eyes soften at your words. “Thank you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, your heart aching from how tender it was. “I’m glad you liked it. Otherwise, I would've had to make you fall in love with me all over again.”

You giggled as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Bucky, we’re engaged. I’m very much in love with you,” you reminded him.

Always will be.

“Yeah, my ploy worked,” he smirked at you. “I got you to move in with me.”

“You had a cheap room and a nice cat,” you deadpanned. Both things were true, but they were bonuses compared to the amazing package of a man holding you.

“And I made you fall in love with me.”

Cocky, but true.

“It’s because you're adorable,” you said with a tilt of your head.

Yes, my beefy fiance is adorable and easy to love.

“I try to be,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Don't want some book boyfriend taking my place.”

“A book boyfriend wouldn't get me the best puzzle or cards,” you said, though you did enjoy how he acted the last time he got jealous of you reading a romance novel. “Or take a nap and cuddle with me.”

He trailed kisses over to your ear. “Or give you orgasms.”

How did he know I was thinking that?

“You are welcome to take me to bed then,” you said, still a bit surprised at yourself for not jumping on him over the sweet card. But you stopped him when he reached past you to open your door. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“These ‘just because’ gestures? And every gift you’ve given me? They really mean so much to me,” you said, hoping he understood how much you appreciated them and him.

You still couldn't believe some days that he was real and in love with you.

He swallowed before he spoke in a quiet tone. “You deserve the entire world and I just wish I could give it to you.”

“You already have,” you promised, pulling him against you this time so you could kiss him.

Bucky had given you everything you could ever dream of by loving and believing in you. And you would get him the perfect gift as soon as you could. Something that said you were thinking of him. Something just because.

Because you loved him.

They bring me such comfort. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[starsinthesky5]

you are in love | joe burrow x reader

description: how did you end up falling head over heels for the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals? but most importantly, how did the quarterback end up falling harder for you?

a/n: this is my first fic ever so bare with me! i’m still getting the hang of writing about joe. i have tried a few times but ended up deleting them because I didn’t like how they turned out LOL. buttt I got bored and got a little confidence and decided to try again. i hope you all like it (if anyone even reads this). this is based off of one of my favorite songs ever and I thought it would make a nice fic. i hope its not too cringe, enjoy :)

warnings: slight smut and allusions to sex, language

word count: 5.5 k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

present day:

One look, Dark Room

Meant just, For you

Time moved too fast, You play it back

“And that should do it,” Joe says as he places the final pillow onto the fort.

“Didn’t know you had “architect” in your job portfolio. This is impressive,” you giggled as you got into the fort.

“No need for the flattery babe, gotta make sure your first night here is comfy so you come back,” Joe replied while draping a blanket over your legs.

“Oh I’ll be back, someone has to use the massive pool, and knowing you, you won’t go in there without me,” you said while thinking about all the exciting things you’ll get to do with him at his new house.

“You got that right, but you’re the one who needs to hang on to me and use me as her personal flotation device,” he says as he settles on the pillows across from you.

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t be so huggable Mr. Burrow,” you say before throwing a pillow at him.

Today was you and Joe’s 6 month anniversary. You two had spent the entire day moving Joe into his new house that he bought when he signed his extension. There were boxes everywhere and hardly any furniture set up, so Joe ended up building a blanket fort for the night. He spent every free moment apologizing for not being able to do something romantic for your anniversary, but you didn’t mind. Any moment with him was special.

“Thank you for helping me out today, I know you probably didn’t think we’d be spending most of the weekend doing this when I asked you to come to Cincinnati,” He said as he was fidgeting with his wristbands.

You lived all the way in Los Angeles and were currently in the middle of working on your 3rd studio album. You were in desperate need of a break and inspiration, so you jumped on the first flight to Cincinnati to see your favorite person.

“Joe, you've apologized enough. Seriously, it’s perfectly fine. You know that I don’t care about the fancy dates and over-the-top gestures. Any time we get to spend together means the world to me, even if it involves carefully moving your extensive Lego collection to the new house,” you chuckle while rubbing his foot.

Joe’s heart was exploding while you were talking. He seriously doesn’t understand how he got so lucky. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he wanted to do everything possible to show you. But the one thing he adored most about you was that you didn’t care for all the glitz and glamor of dating an NFL quarterback. And you loved that he didn’t care about your Hollywood status or all the attention you’d get from the public.

Joe got up on his knees and crawled over to the spot next to you. Once he sat down, you immediately latched onto him and buried yourself into his neck, missing the warmth of his body.

“See, you’re so huggable,” you murmured against his neck.

You heard him softly laugh and felt his hand move up your side, squeezing your arm. “How did I get so lucky” you wondered to yourself.

——————————————————

first meeting:

Buttons on a coat, Light-hearted joke

No proof, not much

But you saw enough

Flashback to July 4th: The Hamptons, New York

You dreaded going to the big 4th of July bash hosted by Micheal Rubin every year, but as an up-and-coming musician, saying “No” to this kind of party would be stupid given the number of connections you could make. The party would always have the most elite Celebrities, Models, Musicians, and Athletes; meaning a lot of small talk and fake laughing. This would be your third time going, and every time you end up sitting in the corner, alone with your way too strong Vodka Martini, counting down the minutes until you could leave. But this year, something was different.

You did end up sitting in the corner with your way too-strong Martini, but you weren't alone. And you certainly weren't counting down the minutes until you could leave. Hell, you were even wishing this night would never end.

“What happens to Football Players when they become blind?” he asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you replied.

“They become referees,” he said while smirking.

“Joe! You can’t say that!” you wheezed out. You couldn't contain your laughter any longer. You weren’t sure if it was because of the Martini, or the fact that Joe Burrow was sitting next to you, also drinking a Vodka Martini.

“Hey, it’s the truth, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Joe said while throwing his hands up.

“You got it Mr. QB1, but I do agree; it’s such BS when they miss the most clear calls,” you giggled.

You weren’t really sure how you and Joe ended up basically spending the entire party by each other's side. One minute you're about to sit and scroll on your phone as usual, and the next thing you know you’re telling your life story to a guy you just met. Were you a little buzzed, absolutely. But something about him made you feel comfortable and safe, even though you just met.

“You’re really cool by the way,” Joe whispered.

“Gee, aren’t you Shakespeare,” you smiled and took another sip of your drink.

“Seriously though. The entire time we've been sitting here, not once did you purposefully bring up the fact that I’m an NFL quarterback. Not many girls can talk to me without bringing up football or trying to flirt with me. It’s exhausting,” he confessed but quickly realized how cocky he sounds. “Not that every girl tries to flirt with me,” he added. 

You laughed and said, “Well, lucky for you I find more value in real conversations than all that superficial stuff. I totally understand the feeling, I love talking to people about my music but after a certain point I just want to talk about normal things and have real conversation,”

I do think it’s cool that you’re a football player since I grew up watching it, but I want to know more about you, not the quarterback,” you continue.

“Well then Miss Y/N, I’m in New York for a few more days, let me take you out to dinner so you can get to know the real Joe a little more,” he boldly asked.

You stared into his deep blue eyes, eyes you wouldn’t mind getting lost in. Something about those eyes was promising. You’ve only just met him and for all you know, he could be a typical “Fuck Boy athlete” looking for a quick hookup. There was nothing to attest to what he was saying, but part of you was willing to take the risk. Something about him felt different.

“Earth to Y/N-”

“Okay,” was all you said.

Little did you know that saying yes to Joe was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

——————————————————

early dating:

Small talk, he drives

Coffee at midnight

The light reflects, The chain on your neck

He says, “Look up”, And your shoulders brush

No proof, one touch, But you felt enough

Flashback to your first time visiting Joe in Cincinnati

It had been a few weeks since you and Joe had dinner together and he had been nothing but a gentleman. The two of you talked about everything from your childhoods to your current aspirations, to your favorite music, and even geeking out about Marvel Movies plus everything nerdy. Joe made you feel good about yourself. He would always tell you how pretty you looked and paid the most attention whenever you would talk. He made you feel butterflies, something which you hadn’t felt in a long time.

After you left New York, the two of you couldn’t stop talking to each other. The silly conversations eventually turned into deep ones; you telling him things you’ve only shared with a select number of people. You felt comfortable when you were talking to him, so this wasn’t difficult for you. He shared things with you about himself that he would only share with those close to him, which was very few since he kept a tight circle. You both shared a mutual feeling of trust, willing to lay yourself bare just to get to know one another. You’d always text him after a vigorous studio sesh to vent and he would update you on his off-season progress. Those texts eventually turned into late-night facetimes, which ended up in Joe asking you to fly out and see him. You hesitated a bit before saying yes. In the back of your mind, you were scared. You knew that the more you two talked and saw one another, the more attached you’d get. He could break your heart into a thousand pieces if you weren’t careful. But you owed it to yourself and to Joe to try.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio as you looked out the window and watched the bright city skyline fade. It was currently midnight in Cincinnati and Joe insisted that he take you to his favorite secret spot on your first trip here.

“You tired?” Joe asked as he glanced over to you, taking in every one of your features.

God you looked so pretty, he thought. You were wearing one of his old Athens Football hoodies and had your hair in a messy bun. You weren’t wearing any makeup and even had on a pair of his slides, which were a few sizes too big. Even in your most natural state, he looked at you like you were a diamond.

“A little. Didn’t get a lot of sleep on the plane,” you yawned out.

“I promise this will be worth it,” Joe said as he placed his hand on your bare thigh.

You immediately tensed up at the foreign contact. Joe felt you tense up and went to remove his hand but you put it right back on your thigh and felt your face turning red. Your stomach was doing somersaults right now.

“Those damn butterflies,” you thought to yourself.

“So, how’s the album coming along?” Joe casually questioned as if he didn’t just make you want to scream out of excitement.

“It’s good, slow, but making progress. I feel like I’ve hit a dead end and am having major writer's block so I think stepping away from it for a little bit will be good for me. Things were getting a bit stuffy and loud. I feel like I was getting somewhere but it always ends up being nothing,” you say as you place your hand on top of his, playing with his fingers.

“That’s good, I hope this weekend will be a breath of fresh air for you. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Always remember that you’re doing your best,”

You looked over at Joe and felt your heart swell up. He knew exactly what to say and how to make a girl feel special.

~10 minutes later~

“We’re here,” Joe says as he turns off the car. 

You looked out the window and saw nothing but trees and grass. You were confused as to where he brought you but before you could ask him, he got out of the car and jogged to your door to open it for you.

“Thank you, Joey,” you blushed as he closed the door behind you.

Joe stepped behind you and whispered into your ear “Close your eyes, I promise it’ll make it even better”.

You closed your eyes and felt his hand on the small of your back. He led you through what felt like a clearing in the trees to a flat grassy patch. You could feel the cold wind against your bare legs meaning that you were out of the woods.

“Open,” he told you.

When you opened your eyes you were met with the most beautiful sight. The same skyline you saw up close, now you were looking at from a distance. It was breathtaking. In Front of you was a picnic blanket and a beautiful set up of candles.

“Holy shit Joe, this is beautiful,” you say in awe.

“Welcome to the lookout point. My favorite place to go when I need a minute alone. I also remember you mentioning how you loved looking at skylines during the sunset and even though we couldn’t make it for the sunset part, I thought this would be the next best thing,” He says as he leads you both to the blanket.

You both sat down on the blanket and he immediately pulled you into his chest. You both faced the bright skyline and all Joe could think about was how much peace he felt at that moment. It was just the two of you sitting in your own little world. The darkness and quietness around you both felt comforting because it was a sign that this moment was just for you both;  no outside noise or distractions.

“This is insane, I mean you can see the whole city and river from up here!” You say as you settle into his arms, your back to his chest.

“That’s not even the best part Y/N, look up,” He points.

You turn your head up to look at him and then you look up. You’re met with what is probably the clearest view of the stars you’ve ever gotten.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, not removing your eyes from the sky.

“You’re beautiful,” Joe says while looking down at you.

You got that feeling again. Your stomach was doing somersaults and the butterflies were back. Could this be that feeling? A feeling you hadn’t felt in a while? That feeling you get when the right person enters your life at the right time? Was Joe that person? So many questions filled your head that you didn’t realize Joe had been softly caressing your thigh the entire time which pulled you out of your trance. 

“That right there is the Big Dipper which points straight to-”

“Polaris,” you interrupt.

“Space nerd,” Joe shakes his head and laughs out.

“Don’t think I don’t know about your space nerdy ways Burrow, I know this is your domain,” you huff out. Joe had told you back in New York that he loved anything and everything space and physics-related. You admired how someone like him was a complete nerd under the tough shell he had. You naturally went back to your apartment and spent an hour or two updating yourself on space quick facts, which certainly paid off.

You slowly got out of his embrace and sat up across from him. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a hint of confusion in his voice.

“No, nothing’s wrong Joe,” you chuckle.

“It’s perfect actually. It’s all perfect. You’re perfect,” you say as you move closer to him, still sitting up. “You know how to make a girl feel special, this was really sweet of you Joe,” you say as you play with the strings of his your hoodie. 

“I just wanna make my girl feel special,” he confesses while moving your hair out of your face.

His girl.

Those were the only words you needed to hear before you jumped onto him and pressed your lips against his. His lips fit perfectly against yours like you were made for each other, so soft and sweet. He slipped his tongue in between the valley of your lips and entered your mouth which caused you to let out a soft whimper. You both spent a few moments exploring each other’s mouths before he broke apart the heated moment.

“I take that as a “yes I’ll be your girlfriend”,” he questioned while searching your face for an answer.

“I didn’t know you were asking,” you teased.

Joe’s face dropped, did he push you too fast? You noticed his facial expression change and immediately pressed a soft kiss onto the tip of his nose and laughed,  “Yes silly, I’ll be your girl,”.

——————————————————

it's getting serious:

Morning, his place, Burnt toast, Sunday 

You keep his shirt, He keeps his word

And for once, you let go, Of your fears & your ghosts 

One step, not much,  But it said enough

Flashback to Joe’s house (4 months into dating)

The warm sunlight flooded the room as you slowly woke up, your body sore and wrapped up in Joe’s sheets, and Joe himself. Joe was sound asleep, fully koala bear hugging you with his head on your chest. God, how does he look so perfect this early in the morning? His dirty blonde curls were sprawled out against your chest and his lips were curled up, almost smiling. Your eyes moved to his back, a few red scratches still visible. You made a mental note that you should probably trim down on the length of your acrylics if this was going to become a common thing for you two, smiling at the thought of what unfolded the night before. You freed your hand from under the sheets and moved it around his back, hoping to soothe any pain you caused. 

The two of you had stumbled into his house late last night after a delicious dinner and wine tasting at a local winery. You two had a few too many glasses of wine and were lucky you made it home in one piece. 

 Flashback to last night 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that many glasses of wine in one sitting before,” you slurred as Joe led you inside the kitchen.

“Me either, next time make sure I stop after the 3rd glass. And it’s a good thing we got someone to take us back and forth,” he said as he took off his jacket and went to get you both some water. 

“Literally. If you were to drive I think we’d end up in the Ohio River,” you deadpanned. 

“Haha, really funny,” Joe said as he handed you a glass of water. 

“God my feet feel like they’re on fire,”. You wailed out while taking a sip of the icy cold beverage.

Joe looked over at you and saw you eyeing your feet. You were wearing a short skin-tight black dress; one of his favorites. The low cut of the dress highlighted your neck which had his favorite part of your outfit. The necklace he gave you for your 1 month anniversary. A simple pendant with the letter “J”. After he gave you that necklace, you never took it off. It became a part of you, and he noticed that. 

Joe crouched down and began untying your heels. 

“Joe you don’t have to do that,” you cooed while twirling your fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he said while flashing you a smile.

He helped you step out of your heels and back onto the ground. Once he got back up he wrapped his big hands around your waist and your hands immediately found their home around his neck and into his hair again.

You inched your face a little closer to his and pressed a delicate kiss onto his soft pink lips.

“Hi,” you whisper against his lips. This time, he pressed a soft kiss on your nose.

“Hi,” he whispered back, staring into your eyes.

“Tonight was really fun. Thank you for always knowing how to get my mind off of things,” you say while staring into his baby blues. 

“No need to thank me Y/N. I know how hard you work and how things can become overwhelming. I’m glad that I can get your mind off of things, even if it’s for a little bit,” 

He wasn’t wrong. Things often become too much for you back in LA and coming to Joe was your escape. Being with him blocked out the outside noise, you would completely forget about whatever was bothering you. You guys would often end up doing the most random things together, without any plan, but that was okay. Those nights where you’d end up eating Chinese takeout on the floor while building a new Lego set were your favorites. The hot summer days where you both would spend the entire afternoon attached to each other in the pool was one of your favorite ways to destress, it was just the two of you. He is your shelter in the hurricane that is your life. 

For Joe, it was very similar. Anytime football would get too real, he’d come straight to you. You were always there whenever he needed to vent or talk something out, knowing you’d always listen. You had been to every single one of his games so far and were always waiting for him in the suite after. Whether he was upset after a shitty game or on Cloud 9, you were always there waiting with open arms. And he loved it. He loved being able to share his high moments with you, even if you had to see some of his lows. Your relationship hadn’t become public yet, which you two were incredibly grateful for. You both were incredibly private people and wanted to take in as much as you could before the whole world had an opinion of your romance. Getting to know each other in private, away from prying eyes, was a blessing.

The two of you continued to stare into each other's eyes, you found yourself once again getting lost in his. 

You felt Joe’s hand migrate to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze.“Getting handsy now aren’t we, Burrow,” you softly giggled. 

“Can’t help it if my girl looks so goddamn beautiful in this dress,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“I appreciate the flattery Mr. Burrow, but do you need something from me or are you just being a flirt” you teased.

“I need you,” he blurted out. 

Your heart almost beat out of your chest when you heard him say that. You and Joe haven’t taken that step in your relationship. You’ve had your fair share of heated make-outs that occasionally involve wandering hands, but nothing like that has happened, yet. It’s not that you didn’t want to, god you wanted to. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to climb him like a tree. His perfectly sculpted chest, his muscular arms, those thighs, and that face. He made you weak in the knees, and he was well aware. He never pressured you to go there, letting you know that it’s okay to take things slow. But tonight you didn’t feel like taking it slow. 

“Then show me, Joe,” you said as you felt your arousal shoot up.

Joe immediately picked you up, bridal style, causing you to let out a shriek. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he launched you both up the stairs, taking the steps 2 at a time, eventually rushing into the bedroom.

“Joe, slow down!” You squeak out while laughing. 

He carefully laid you on his bed admiring you for a second; you looked perfect, even with messy hair and smudged makeup. Joe moved onto the bed and started placing soft butterfly kisses up your arm, right up to that spot on your neck that he knows you love.

“Joe, please,” You whimpered, fully implying you wanted more with the tone of your voice.

Joe removed himself from your neck, looked into your eyes, and said “Are you sure?”. 

You smiled and said “Absolutely,”. 

He then captured your lips in a passionate and deep kiss. You felt like kissing him till your lips fell off, it was like heaven when you two would connect. Slowly, both of your clothes ended up on the floor and those passion-filled kisses turned messy and sloppy. You felt those butterflies in your stomach again as he was kissing his way down your body. You did not doubt that Joe would be careful with you, and you knew he wanted this just as much as you did. 

End of Flashback

You decided to go back to sleep since it was still pretty early and you know Joe was tired from last night. You woke up a few hours later to the smell of cinnamon and coffee. 

“Mmmm,” You say as you stretch out. You didn’t feel any weight on you anymore so Joe must have woken up. You looked around the room and didn’t see him anywhere so you decided to freshen up in his bathroom and head downstairs. When you entered the bathroom you saw one of his shirts (a purple long sleeve LSU shirt aka one of your favs) on the counter with a sticky note saying “For you :)”. You put on the soft shirt (which was way too big) and start fixing your messy hair before heading downstairs. 

You walk into the kitchen and see the dining table decked out with a vase of pink carnations (which happens to be your favorite flower), 2 plates of French toast, and a smoothie for Joe. You also noticed a mug of coffee which made you smile. Joe knew that you would be a zombie the whole day if you didn’t have your daily morning coffee.  Joe was too busy cooking the bacon to notice you coming downstairs, so you walked up behind him and wrapped your hands around him from behind.

“Good morning sexy chef,” you murmured against his back.

“Tryna get me going again?” He teased. 

“You wish, last night was a damn workout. I need at least 3 hours to recover before we go at it again,” you giggled.  

You heard his soft laugh before he spun around and wrapped his hands around your waist. “Well, we will def be repeating that. “Sooner the better,” he added. 

“Horndog,” you said as you pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Only for you babe,” he says before going back to the bacon. “I’m almost done with this, you can sit at the table.”

“Damn, quarterback, perfect boyfriend, and chef? Impressive job portfolio,” you say while walking to the table and sitting down. 

Joe finished cooking the bacon and sat down across from you. “The French toast is a little burnt, I got distracted by the TV,” he admitted. “They were showing this month’s Top 10 funniest cat videos.” 

You burst out laughing and say “Guess I should add Cat Lady to your job portfolio too,”

You two spent the morning digging into the delicious breakfast Joe had prepared, even though the French toast was slightly burnt. He talked about the upcoming football season and how excited he was for the new offensive schemes they had come up with. After breakfast, you both ended up on the couch and decided to play a round of go fish. You gave him some album updates, which he’d constantly ask for, and even played one of your demos for him. 

“Y/N this is amazing,” he said softly. The song he had just heard was called “Sweet Nothing”, and you weren't planning on ever letting anyone hear it because of how intimate and special it was. A big part of what you did involved you being in the public eye a lot, which allowed everyone to nitpick and talk about your life. It was exhausting how often people would comment on your relationships, friendships, career, body, and everything in between. They always expected you to be perfect in every aspect and when you weren’t, they would make it known. You had written about how Joe never expected anything from you like everyone else did. Being with him was easy and you knew you could always go to him whenever the background noise would get too loud. And now here he was, listening to those feelings you had a hard time saying out loud. 

“Thank you. To be honest I wasn’t planning on letting anyone hear that,” you say while looking down and fidgeting with your rings. 

“Really?” he asked. “It’s really good, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your boyfriend.” 

“Yep. I love it, I really do. I think it’s one of the best songs I’ve written so far, but I feel like it’s too bare and the fans won’t understand the real meaning behind the song. And I feel like they won’t like it.” 

“And that’s exactly why you should release it. I know the real you, and that is the real you,” he says while pointing at your phone. Screw the fans, you should do what makes you happy.” he says before reaching for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “You make music because that makes you happy and you shouldn’t have to worry about what people will say. If they have an issue with you doing what you want, then they are sure as hell not fans.” 

You got up on your knees and jumped onto Joe’s body, making you both lay flat against each other on the couch. 

“How do you always know what to say,” you beam while prepping soft kisses all over his face. 

Your heart felt like it was about to explode. It only took a few months for someone you just met to understand you more than people following your journey over the past few years. Joe’s words felt like a warm comforting hug, and they always made you feel like everything was going to be okay. You valued his words so much, you trusted him so much, and he loved that you were so open and vulnerable with him. He knew that opening up was difficult for you, and he felt at peace knowing you felt comfortable confiding in him. You weren't holding back anymore. You were 100% open and honest with him and he never took advantage of it. Your fears of getting hurt were fading away.

——————————————————

present day:

You kiss on sidewalks, You fight and you talk

One night he wakes, Strange look on his face,

Pauses, then says, “You’re my Best Friend”

And you knew what it was, He is in Love

“Y/N?” was all you heard as you felt your shoulder shake. “Did I lose you there?” Joe asked. 

“What?” you questioned as you looked up at him. You were back in the fort Joe built for you two. 

“I was asking what you thought of the house,” he says as he plays with your hair. “Is something wrong?” he asks. 

“Oh. Sorry, I must have dozed off for a second,” you lied, not admitting you were caught in a series of flashbacks. “I think it’s amazing. It’s sooo big and has so much potential.” you continue. 

“Yeah, it is pretty big,” he says with a sigh. You look up at him and immediately sense the change in his tone plus the dejected look on his face, “Is that not what you wanted?” you say with concern. “I thought you wanted a big house.” 

“I did, I do. I just don’t want to be alone in this big of a house when you aren’t here,” he confessed, feeling slightly embarrassed as if he didn’t have other things to occupy his free time. “Unless,” he added.

“Unless what?” you asked. 

He hesitated before saying, “Move in with me”. 

It took a few moments for your brain to register what he said to you. You immediately sat up, as did he. You were about to say something but he cut you off before you could.

“Y/N. These past 6 months have been nothing short of peaceful and amazing. Being with you brings me the balance I need in my life. I know that if I ever fly too high or get lost, I have someone who can find me and bring me back down. You are everything I’ve ever wanted in life, and now you’re everything I need.” he says. 

“You’re my biggest cheerleader, my support system, my safety net, but most importantly.” He pauses and says, "You're my best friend.” “And I love you.” he finishes. 

Those 3 words. The 3 words that you’ve wanted to say to him for months but didn’t because you weren’t entirely sure if he felt the same way. Those 3 words just came out of his mouth, and he meant it. He loved you more than anything and he needed to make it known. He needed to wake up to your smile every morning. He needed to hear your voice echo through the halls of the house. You made him feel loved, and he needed you to know that.

You didn’t realize the hot tears streaming down your cheeks until Joe lifted his hand and started wiping them.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks, feeling nervous since you didn’t respond to anything he just said. 

You started crying even harder. He loved you. He really loved you. 

“Y/N you’re scaring me”.

“Shut up,” you said before you put your hands on his face and brought him in for a passionate kiss. 

You kissed him for a few heartbeats and finally whispered against his lips “I love you,” loud enough for just him to hear before you captured his lips in another kiss.

He stops kissing you and stares into your eyes for a moment, getting lost in them like you do with his eyes. “So about my first question,” he beams. 

“Yes silly, I’ll move in with you,” you giggle. “Someone has to make sure that you don’t burn this place down while making french toast. You got lucky last time,” you laugh out while remembering that morning. 

“Haha, really funny babe,” he says before pulling you into a hug. The warmth of your bodies pressed together was the most comforting feeling in the world. Joe spent the rest of the night telling you how much he loved you, and you reciprocated the feeling by showing him how much you loved him.

We’re in love.

—The End—

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

[moonit3]

I've been completely addicted to reading your yanderes since yesterday, especially Harem and the Twins.

Therefore, I would like to request a part 3 of the Harem, if possible with more yandere fem, I am extremely lacking with yandere female, if it is not a bother, I thank you in advance for your attention and I am happy with your stories

𓆩❤︎ YANDERE! CONCUBINES HAREM

⟡ cw: yandere! female (of course), gn! reader, mentioned somnphilia (nothing happens i swear), overthinking from concubines, age gap (but like one line only), mentioned blackmail, pure fluff i guess?

⟡ word count: 1.1 k

⟡ notes: a new format? yep, i got a little tired of the same old ive been using since the very first post and its like it changed a lot…also, i am giving up my life to try to get the new mythic mercy skin (even started playing competitive to get more points) and to have aventurine in star rail (i barely have tickets, so i am going to wait to the anniversary rewards…), either way i am working hard to archive my goals and you should too! enjoy today’s writing, my dear readers :)

earlier today you forget to lock your office’s door to prevent the concubines to enter and spend time with you during work hours, which basically mean they are all over the room in completely silence, observing you working in the documents. it’s wearied to have an quiet audience like this one, but you enjoy hearing the breeze outside your office while working and the ladies definitely know, so they keep to themselves when staying at the room with the only goal to admire you.

you catch most of the ladies moving their gaze away when you stare at them when the files start becoming boring, it’s cute to think about these women who often flirt and shamelessly throw themselves at you acting like this. it reminds you they acted so desperate before as many believed that you would kick them out if any of them showed interest in you, but the ladies now know better.

stretching your arms behind your back, a faint smile slowly made to your lips as you know today’s paperwork is coming to an end. it’s a challenge to stay sit down behind the desk and analyze every new law made by the council as the elections has taken place a few months ago. if you only could ask your personal advisers to finish the work so you could take an hour or two to rest, but that won’t be possible as it is necessary to have your signature at the papers.

a yawn came out of your mouth, calling the ladies’ attention towards their beloved one while you didn’t notice their watchful eyes, you did notice how tired you’ve become in seconds. and almost instantly, your body slowly fall into the desk and right there, you began dreaming about tomorrow’s work.

the little noises of snores made all the concubines step closer to check on your sleeping body.

some of them poked your cheeks to try to wake you up, but immediately failed when you just turned out to prevent them from doing so. others had the idea to bring a plate of your favorite meal so you could smell it and suddenly wake up to thank them, but you payed no mind for it. and the remaining ones just accept that you won’t wake up any time soon, so just they carried you back to your chambers to have a proper bed to sleep on.

seeing how your chest goes up and down with your soft breathing, the concubines couldn’t help themselves to just stay quiet to watch you sleeping form. it’s adorable how their great leader looks so precious in a defenseless position like this! all the things they could do with you right now are possible, but they aren’t animal, no. never in a million years would these lovely women use your body without your consent. so, the ladies just stay inside your chamber to admire you.

“should we get our love’s plushies to let them feel savior in their dream?” the daugther of a merchant asked.

“don’t be ridiculous, anne. do you think [name] would be happier if we show that we learn about their secret stock of plushies? I don’t think so.” the third daughter of a former general answered. “also, they can’t know we stole some of them.”

the others nodded, a little scared that you would discover of all the things they have stolen from you. would you learn how many of your undergarments just vanished? or would you question they found out about your recent discussions with the former emperor? every single of them loved hearing the old man scolding you for not having any heirs to the throne, even daring to ask you if you are sterile or just a coward.

while they got angry at the your father for speaking nuisances about your body, the women couldn’t be happier when hearing the words coming out of lips. ”i will h-have my f-first night soon! just let me choose someone, okay?” and that only made them more eager to stay around you. all the ladies made a pact to keep their newly found secret away from the man who are part of the harem, after all, they are already rivals and none of them need more people to complicate their plans.

that’s why the women of the harem have become more overprotective over you in recently days, not that you’ve noticed any change on their behavior. you are too busy working to make the nation better and to take care of the harem as a whole that you barely notice the immense change on their behavior.

“it’s been hours that [name] has fallen asleep! can we wake them up to spend some time with us? please.” a foreign princess was immediately stopped from touching your forehead, her hands quickly slapped away by a older woman.

and that woman is no other than a renowned actress who retired of her incredible care to become part of the harem, but still gaining enormous revenue from her previous works. “didn’t we said to let our love to rest? oh, wait. we have been talking about it for the past hour or so and you keep insisting on waking them up? you are dumb.” the woman’s words made the princess’ face go completely red as a tomato, then leading to a silent argument between the two of them. with everyone else to witness it.

the discussion continued for ten minutes until both stopped when noticing that you’ve wake up due to their constantly shifting in their voices. of course, both of their face became red of embarrassment while the rest of the concubines could only watch you yawning, probably thinking on what you would to the troublemakers.

“…how long i was sleeping?” even with your best attempts, you can’t keep an eye open to see how many women are inside your chamber.

“a-around seven hours, your majesty.” one of them answered. “are we disturbing your rest? if so, we can leave.”

“oh, don’t worry…” a yawn escape of your lips, interrupting your words. “…you, ladies, aren’t bothering me at all. i was just thinking if you guys would like to rest with me.”

did they hear correctly? are you really asking that or they are just imaging those words to make themselves calmer of this situation. but they knew this is real when you began patting the bed, asking them once again if they would like to sleep with you for the rest of the day and of course, all of them accept it.

it didn’t took much time to you fall asleep again, this time surrounded by many and many ladies over your immense bed who almost fought each other to gain the opportunity to lay next to you. the only reason a conflict didn’t broken out was because you began cuddling a pillow of yours, leading to the concubines crying to themselves while others took photos of this precious moment to use as an important blackmail material in the future or perhaps just to sell at a high price to the male concubines.

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere female #yandere female x gender neutral reader #yandere girl #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere women #yandere harem #yandere concubines #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #yandere x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere headcanons #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #yandere headcanon

[kairiscorner]

happy birthday — miles 42 x reader (birthday special)

↳ summary: miles has been really busy a lot lately, training hard under his uncle to better his tactics at fighting and balancing school and chores on top of everything, he just kind of forgets today was even special. but luckily, you don't forget your boyfriend's birthday that easily. ↳ word count: 1,916

↳ a/n: i did not realize it was my son's birthday on the third, i'm so sorry it's late SJEBCBFIVBRFVBRBVVRBO BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE UP FOR IT, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MY BOYYYY AND I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE THIS <333

"got any idea what's up today, miles?" you asked miles with a big grin on your face as you caught miles in the halls before class began. he raised an eyebrow up at you as he glanced up at you after collecting all his books and everything else he needed for his first class of today before heading off. "um... no. is it movie night tonight? because sorry, i... i can't make it tonight, cielo." he muttered as he looked at you with eyes filled with hints of sadness and shame at not being able to hang out with you, despite really wanting to. his responsibilities as being the prowler, a student, and a son have got him really occupied lately. he can't really quit either of these full-time jobs he's got going on right now, and you couldn't blame him. you wished he went easier on himself, though, and took more breaks, took it a little easier on himself, maybe would blow off some steam from time to time and tell you at least how he feels so it doesn't bottle up inside him over time.

you held his hand and shook your head. "nah, silly, it's something more important!" you exclaimed with a grin. miles tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrow as he looked at you with a look of confusion. "um... hmm, is it a study night? i know it's not our anniversary yet, it's not your birthday, uh..." he mumbled as he closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head, frustrated with himself because nothing came up in his mind. he didn't think there was anything worth such importance today, though if he was being honest, he wasn't sure what date it was today; he just got by the month by remembering what tests were when, if tonight had prowler activities, or if tonight was going to be laundry night with his mom. he was honestly drawing a blank here, he needed you to give him more obvious clues to help him find out what exactly was so important about today.

you sighed as you let go of his hand and folded your arms in front of your chest. miles' eyes widened as he felt you let go of his hand, he reached out for your hand again as he stepped forward towards you. "cielo, wait! please, i... i'm sorry." he apologized first as he stepped back and took in a breath. "can you just, um, tell me what's up today? i'm sorry, i've just been so swamped recently, and i know that's not the best excuse, but i'm not--" he went on and on, but was interrupted by the first bell. "ay, gotta go, cielo, we can talk about this later!" miles said as he scrambled for his stuff and ran off.

you waited for miles outside of his classroom once your class ended, though he had to stay behind and ask the teachers a couple of questions and clarifications over his homework since he was having a lot of backlog due to his duties as the prowler. miles caught a glimpse of you outside, though before he could call out to you or walk over to you, the next bell rang, and you had to attend to your next class. miles couldn't focus properly, he was overthinking about whether or not he upset you, or if you were already disappointed with him forgetting what day it was today. he wasn't able to check his phone or ask for the date today since he was busy catching up with schoolwork. eventually, miles caught you at lunch, but... you were with ganke. you were huddled over with him at his table, the two of you smiling and chuckling at each other as you showed him stuff on your phone.

miles trusted ganke, and ganke expressed how he didn't have any interest in butting in between you two, but the mere sight of you with ganke–all smiles with him and laughing together, after he hadn't been able to spend much time with you recently due to his responsibilities and all–it hurt him deeply, thinking he failed you and were seeking comfort with ganke. miles walked away, hurt and sad, but angry towards himself for the most part. he ate lunch alone, just like he did before befriending ganke and meeting you, but he felt like he deserved it for pushing you aside, even if he didn't mean to and wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

as miles headed home after school, not seeing you in the halls or at the school yard as he scanned his surroundings for you, he felt super dejected and disappointed in himself. he wanted to stop thinking about his responsibilities for once and just put all his time, effort, and focus on you and only you–but he knew that would be a mere twinkle in his eye, a dream that will only remain as that, a dream. but as he entered the front door of his home, he was greeted to the voices of all the important people he had in his life, with yours ringing distinctly in his ears.

"happy birthday, miles!"

miles stiffened as he heard those two words with his name following the greeting not long after. he blinked for a few times and looked around–his mom and uncle aaron were there, so were ganke and... you. wait, could this be the super important thing you hinted about today? oh, man, did he feel like an idiot–he never thought of his own birthday as something of importance, but you... you kept thinking about him, all day. miles was speechless as you approached him, all smiles, and pecked his cheek. "happiest birthday to you, miles." you said as you pulled away and presented to him the gift you had for him. miles looked at you with a puzzled look. "cielo... for-for me?" he asked you as you chuckled and nodded. "for who else, dummy?" you asked him as miles slowly took the gift and stammered. "i... but, cielo, i don't deserve this. i've missed out on countless dates and meet-ups with you, i keep pushing you aside even though i don't wanna, i--" miles rambled on and on, beating himself up for feeling inadequate at making you happy due to his repeated absences.

before he could continue, you hugged him tightly. "and it's okay, babe. you're good. you try, and even if it doesn't work out, it's the thought that counts. i'm already happy you think of me all the time and want to spend time with me, even if you can't. i love you, miles." you tell him in a gentle voice as miles hugs you back, bringing you closer to him as he kisses your cheek. "i really love you, too, mi cielo..." he mutters as you pull away from him and lead him to the couch for him to open his gift from you.

you handed him a thick box, it was wrapped in purple wrapping paper with green accents, with a green and black ribbon to tie it up. you encouraged miles to open it as ganke filmed it, with his uncle aaron and his mom watching intently. miles was gentle in unwrapping the gift, he didn't rip it open, he wanted to feel the suspense of opening the gift you got him. soon, when he saw what was inside, he gasped loudly as his eyes went wide. he kept repeating 'wait, no...' in a breathless, excited way as he realized you bought him the sneakers he had been wanting for the longest time. he could never ask his mom to buy it for him, and he was saving up to buy them himself, but to get them from you... oh, he felt like he had ascended.

"mi cielo, no freaking way...!" he exclaimed in an overjoyed manner with slight chuckles in his voice as his smile widened as the fact you gifted him the very sneakers he had wanted for a long time sunk in and made him momentarily forget the sadness he was feeling just earlier. his uncle teased you as he wished you didn't gift him those sneakers, he'd have a new obsession for a little while and keep his eyes out for him. "that boy's gonna be wary about me, asking me if i touched them. he's gonna be real overprotective of those, especially since they came from you." his uncle aaron quipped as miles told him that wasn't true. just a little true.

miles kept thanking you and kissed you on the cheek, and as ganke was filming, he encouraged you two to share a kiss. "c'mon, you dorks! for the camera! kiss! kiss! kiss!" he chanted, with uncle aaron chanting along with him. his mother chided the two, saying you two weren't going to be doing anything of the sort in front of them, but you decided you didn't care anymore and pulled miles in for a gentle kiss. miles' eyes widened even more as you kissed him, and though his mother cried out in surprise, with his uncle clapping and chuckling as ganke cheered for you two, he found himself not wanting to pull away and kissed you back.

miles pulled away and gazed at you, a smirk growing on his face as he kissed your cheek. "oh, how did i get so lucky? how could i have you, mi cielo? you know, i'll stop being too serious, you're the only lucky break i have from all the chaos in my life. i promise you, though, i'll make up for all the time that should've been just ours together. i swear, i'll make this place safer for you, i promise." he said as he interlocked his hand with yours, clutching the shoe box in his other hand. he kissed your lips and pulled away, causing you to giggle and get flustered. "i'll hold you to that, miles. but please... don't hesitate to come to me, talk to me, or do anything with me. i love you, babe, i don't mind if you miss a few dates or meet-ups, just be safe out there..." you whispered to him with a smile.

his mother retreated to grab a glass of wine as his uncle called out to her to save him a glass, with ganke chuckling as he saved the footage and teased you two lovebirds. "this... has got to be the best birthday ever." miles gushed as he ran a hand through your hair. you chuckled as you fidgeted with the end of his left braid in your hand. "even with your uncle and mom watching us kiss, with ganke filming all of it, probably never gonna let us live it down...?" you asked as you leaned closer to kiss him again and pulling away. miles smiled sweetly at you as he answered, "really." he kissed you again, with you reciprocating his kiss. that truly was going to be a birthday he'll remember, and he's gonna make sure he keeps his promises to you and work hard to earn your love and pay you back for the gift you gave him. though if you were to ask him, the only gift he really wanted was just to... hold you close, hear your voice, and just be with you on his birthday and for all the birthdays there were to come in the future with you, his sweetheart.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @pixqlsin @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x y/n #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #e42 miles #miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

[pshcomforts]

➳ love wins all | yjw.

idol!jungwon x fem!reader

“is it a bad ending?”

synopsis: jungwon, once again, forgot an important date for your guys’ relationship, and you’re tired of it.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angst to fluff. argument! toxic if you squint really hard. mentions of breakup. poor boy’s stressed out :( cursing (i think) and not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.8k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: love wins all by iu

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:05 ─────|────────────── -3:22

the time was ticking.

y/n constantly looked at the clock, noticing the minutes go by faster than she thought. she sighed, “he didn’t really forget did he..?” the soft mumble leaving her lips as she didn’t want to believe it.

[ 1:24 am ] — the phone beamed.

she was beginning to give up on him. “just a few more minutes…,” the girl murmured, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall.

[ 1:40 am ] — time turned.

her heart sank at how long it’s been. she then decided to clean up the big surprise she had for her boyfriend, putting things away messily while letting tears dropping atlas as she felt useless.

suddenly, the door was being struggled to get unlocked. y/n waited, knowing that it was finally him but had no hopes anymore.

the doorknob was soon unlocked and in came her dimpled boyfriend, still in his practice outfit and seemingly fighting the urge to sleep.

no words were said. she only looked at him with disappointment. jungwon made eye contact with her once he took off his shoes and gave out a long sigh.

“oh hey baby,” he whispered, breaking the long silence that felt like torture

y/n didn’t answer right away. she waited for her throat to clear from the tears she let out.

“won, do you know what today was…?”

the tired male sighed in defeat, giving a clear hint to her that he had forgotten. “um…,” his one word changed y/n’s mood.

“i know you’re tired from practice, but i waited… for 4 hours.., you gave no message whatsoever, and i even told you how important this dinner was for us. did you even know it was our anniversary?”

y/n finally broke loose, letting out what she had been holding in for the past few hours in his absence. she looked at him, seeing if there was any mercy in his eyes but he only looked tired.

finally, he hoarsely spoke, “i know… i’m sorry i forgot.”

the girl scoffed at his words, tears falling constantly down from her eyes that had become red.

“that’s all you have to say??”

jungwon sighed again, his arm falling over his eyes as he said, “what do you want me to say?” in a tiring voice.

y/n stayed quiet in disbelief that her boyfriend of two years was really acting like this. “wonie, you don’t even remember our anniversary and now you’re not even being sincere with me?”

“look babe, we got heavily yelled at today and-“

“and that’s supposed to affect how we are at home?”

“why are you making it a bigger deal than it should be?” he quickly shot back.

jungwon sat up, finally making eye contact with his girl after a while. his eyes stayed firm and serious, no longer looking like the adorable boba eyes she once knew throughout the years.

“won, for the last few months, i’ve been feeling like i’m the only one in a relationship and it’s been getting tiring. i understand you have a busy schedule but-“

“if you understand then why are you even bringing this up?” the boy exasperated with a groan.

she huffed. he wasn’t understanding her point, and it was getting to her.

“because i feel like you don’t even understand me,” y/n’s voice trembled. quite suddenly, won stopped and finally took focus into her after he heard it.

“for so long, i feel like i’ve been putting effort only.” she added on, heart crumbling apart piece by piece.

jungwon sighed as his fluttering eyes stayed glued to the ground while mumbling, “you know how important it is to me to be in enhypen. you know that it’s what i’ve wanted for so long.”

the girl sniffled and wiped her tears away. “i know.. i do, but lately, you’ve been so distant. every mistake you’ve done in this relationship, i’ve excused but now.., you forgetting our anniversary is something i can’t look past on.”

he rolled his eyes, getting tired of going back and forth on this argument.

y/n took notice. of course she did. that little gesture was something unusual from her boyfriend. “you’re not even listening to what i’m saying won-“

“because! what you’re saying is nonsense. i’ve been going through so much as the leader for our comeback — keeping everything in order, making sure all the members are prepared..,” he sighed in exhaustion before continuing.

“i’m tired, and the last thing i want is to come home to an argument waiting to happen, which has been going on for a while, for absolutely no reason at all.”

the long awaited argument was now out.

jungwon had finally exploded, raising his voice in frustration whilst cutting her off in the process.

she was taken back by it of course, not knowing what to say as she stayed silent to what he said. he still wasn’t listening to her.

the male put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, almost feeling guilty of his explosion.

y/n took notice, sighing with a heartache inside as she huffed, “if it’s always going to be like this then.. maybe it’s best if we’re not together anymore.”

the sudden suggestion jolted jungwon from his half-asleep state. he stood and walked to her.

“you can’t be serious, y/n??”

his voice rose again, causing the girl to close her eyes from it. he sighed, half in regret and half in frustration.

“you really think your solution to this is breaking up?” he questioned.

the two were letting tears fall now, breakdowns happening left and right.

his hand touched her gentle cheek, subtly wiping away her tears as he slightly pushed her cheeks up so she can look at him. a small smile attempted to display on his lips for reassurance but y/n only turned away from the skinship.

she knew that most of their fights always ended like this, and she couldn’t have it like that anymore.

it was quiet.

nobody wanted to say anything that could ruin the mood even more. it remained like that before the girl suddenly heard the ruffles of his clothing and keys, knowing he was about to head out of the door.

she dreaded to ask the question but she had to. “did you ever really love me?”

the question stopped jungwon from walking any further. they both swiftly turned to each other, locking their watery eyes with betrayal and hurt emerged on their faces.

“that’s too much!” his voice broke in the sudden yell, causing the two to tremble down into more crying tears.

y/n felt everything crashing down, pain entering through her body all at once.

“i used to never question that until now, won.” she uttered in a shaky tone.

finally, he approached her after what she said. his eyes were filled with just as much pain as hers as they sparkled.

the boy wanted to apologize but he didn’t know how with how far they had gotten into it. none of their arguments had ever been this bad.

“you know i love you y/n…, you’re my girl. i can’t even imagine a life without you. you’re the only thing that matters in my life right now. i enjoy being an idol but you? you come first. you always will.”

a few voice cracks happened in his message that showed his raw emotion.

he locked eye contact with her, showing her his tears that he couldn’t control through it all.

✩ ‘i carefully hold you in my eyes’ ✩

y/n didn’t respond. she still felt hurt that he forgot the big and small events he used to know.

the girl only hugged him, squeezing him in her embrace that made the two only cry harder in each others arms.

she still said nothing.

the two stayed like that for a few minutes as she let jungwon cry it out.

only soft sobs and quiet sniffles were heard throughout the apartment. he was going through so much as the leader and this hug was what he needed.

✩ ‘hold me tight until i can’t breathe’ ✩

y/n needed more though. she wanted to hear his usual whispers of sweet nothings, his unique voice that always tingled in her ear, his warm hugs that felt like home.

✩ ‘i want to be sad with you my lover’ ✩

so she let him continue to sob until he felt better, and it was then that she left his embrace.

his favorite girl placed her hand on his tear-stained cheek in the process, only giving a half smile and leaving to their bedroom.

there were still no words said after that.

jungwon stayed out in the living room, sitting on the sofa as he continuously rubbed his eyes in frustration.

he was tired, and he just wanted the night to end.

after sitting with his thoughts for a few minutes longer, he finally decided to look at the clock.

[ 3:16 am ] — it read.

won sighed, believing that it was finally time to head into the bedroom as well.

as he stepped further to their room, he saw y/n on the very edge of her side of the bed. his heart ached, knowing he messed up big time.

“are you awake?” his soft voice spoke, standing where the door frame was in hesitation.

his adorable lips pressed into a thin line, showing his dimples as he contemplated on whether or not he should be in the same bed as her after the argument.

‘please… stay with me..,’ his favorite person thought, wide awake as she pretended to sleep.

truth be told, she didn’t know what his choice would be. it felt like she didn’t know who jungwon was anymore.

y/n stayed on her side of the bed, heart trembling in fear of how things would turn when suddenly feeling a huge dip on her opposite side.

he stayed.

a relief sighed out of her, though remaining sound asleep in his eyes.

he laid down on his side, abruptly pulling his girlfriend closer to him.

she felt the pull and complied. his body ghosted over hers as she turned around to come face to face with him.

the girl’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, and all he could do was display his subtle surprise that she was awake.

but they quickly softened at her reddened eyes that cried for comfort.

tears welled up in the two again.

their pillows became wet with them as jungwon softly mumbled — “i love you, baby.”

y/n sniffled her snot back in before replying, “i love you too.”

he sniffled as well, moving to kiss her forehead and pull her closer to him.

the tall male wrapped himself around his girlfriend, holding her near to let her know that he wouldn’t let her go that easily.

jungwon and y/n let the last of their tears leave their tired eyes for the night as her hand rested on his broad chest, and his arms confirmed the reassurance she needed.

they were okay again.

✩ ‘our love wins all, love wins all’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

#pshcomforts #enhypen #park sunghoon #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha #enhypen heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen scenarios #enhypen niki #enhypen jungwon #enha angst #enha scenarios #enha fluff #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enha ff #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon angst #jungwon fluff #jungwon fanfic #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon fluff #enhypen soft hours

[fanfictionalraven]

Unforgettable

Title: Unforgettable

Song Inspiration: Unforgettable by Thomas Rhett

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2,822

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published January, 2018. Flashbacks in italics.

You knew it was stupid to be mad. You weren’t exactly in a “normal” relationship. Dean wasn’t the roses, chocolates, or candle-lit dinners type. And, to be fair, you’d never really considered yourself the type to want those things either. You knew it was stupid to be mad. But, dammit, you couldn’t help it.

One year ago today, you and Dean had met and the chemistry was instantaneous. It had been a great night, the best night of your life honestly. The next day, he brought you back to the bunker and you’d never left. You’d never really defined the relationship, it was a sort of unspoken but obvious dedication.

So maybe it was a little unfair to expect any form of “anniversary” celebration or gifts. But was some form of acknowledgment too much to ask of whatever it was you had? Probably.

You groan and lay your head on the library table. Sam, sitting directly across from you with a lore book, was oblivious to your internal argument. He looks up now.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head, not moving it from the table. “What’s up?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.

“What are we?” You ask. There’s a moments silence before Sam speaks again.

“Well – we’re hunters,” he says. You sit up and narrow your eyes at him. “What?” He asks, laughing again.

“Me and Dean. What are we?” You ask again. His laughter stops and confusion spreads across his face. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we friends with benefits?”

“Pretty sure you should be having this conversation with Dean,” he tells you, looking back at his book. You groan and lay your head down again. “Why is this suddenly bothering you?”

“Because I can’t decide if I have the right to be mad that he doesn’t remember we met a year ago today,” you admit. Sam starts to laugh again and you sit up quickly.

“He forgot your anniversary, huh?” He asks. You shush him quickly, looking over your shoulder. Dean had been in the garage most of the morning working on his car but he could come back at any moment. “Look, Y/N, I’ve never seen Dean like this with anyone. Ever. You mean more to him than I’m sure he’s said. But he isn’t used to the whole relationship thing. I’m sure he’ll come around though.”

“Hey, Sweetheart. Can you come down here?” You hear Dean call from the hall. You sigh as you stand and start down the corridor. Of course, you had been overreacting. You knew how much Dean cared for you, even if he never said it. And you didn’t need a day set aside for him to prove it more.

You stop short at the entrance to the garage and smile. Dean is leaning back against the hood of the Impala, his hands shoved down in the pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing your favorite of his flannel shirts, the one that makes his eyes pop a little more. It was the same one he’d been wearing the night you met.

You’d rolled into Lebanon, Kansas earlier that day, having found a case. It was an easy one. Open and shut. A vengeful spirit terrorizing a local family. You’d already worked out who it was and were just waiting for the cover of night to go salt and burn the body.

While you were waiting, you’d decided to hit a local bar. The one you picked looked like just the perfect mix of seedy and respectable. You’d been sitting at the bar for over an hour now, nursing your second bottle of beer, when someone slides onto the stool next to you. A blue and green checkered flannel hugs the muscles of the man’s forearms in all the right ways as he flags the barkeep for a beer. You shake your head quickly, having to remind yourself why you’re here in the first place.

You allow yourself one glance at him and immediately regret it. He’s looking back at you with piercing green eyes, already mentally undressing you. You look forward quickly and take a long drink of your beer before turning to face him. He angles his body towards you as well, smiling in the most irresistible way.

“Look,” you start, avoiding his eyes. “I’m only here for work. I’m really not looking for a drunken one night stand.” They weren’t the words you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him where you were staying for the night but you knew you had to stay focused on the job and if he went back to your motel room you’d never want to leave again. The man laughs and you look up at him now.

“Okay number one, I’m completely sober,” he says before taking a long drink from his bottle. You feel your face heat up when he runs his tongue over his lips. “And B, I’m not looking for a one night stand either.”

“No?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from his lips. He smirks slightly and shakes his head.

“I’d need at least a week with you,” he says. You can’t help the laugh the erupts from you. He smiles as he watches you. “What do you say?” He asks. Before you can answer, someone else is tapping on your shoulder. You turn to find another man.

Under normal circumstances, those circumstances being the man you were currently sitting next to not being there, he would have been a perfectly attractive man. However, your present company seemed to make every other man on the planet pale in comparison. The new suitor smiles at you, a smile that would no doubt be dazzling if you hadn’t already seen the other man’s.

“Care to dance?” He asks, nodding towards the empty space in the room where one couple was drunkenly swaying to some song in their head. You could give him a simple ‘no thank you’ but quickly decide that wouldn’t be any fun. Instead, you reach over next to you, placing your hand on the knee of the man beside you. You feel him twitch under your touch and fight not to smirk.

“Sorry. My boyfriend just got off work,” you tell him. Your ‘boyfriend’ waves at the other guy, a smirking playing at his lips. The man leaves you alone, quickly moving on to another girl in the room. A hand comes over yours and you look over at him.

“Can I at least know my girlfriend’s name?” He asks. You laugh and pull your hand out from under his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, picking your bottle back up. You feel his eyes on you as you take a drink. “Y/N Y/L/N. And you are?”

“Dean Winchester,” he says quickly.

“Babe?” Dean’s voice draws you from the memory. He’s standing in front of you now, a piece of cloth in his hands. You look at it then at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If this is a kinky thing, I’m not in the mood,” you tell him. He rolls his eyes.

“Will you trust me?” He asks. You smile a little and nod. He moves to stand behind you and carefully slips the cloth over your eyes. You sigh as he ties it in place. “Can you see anything?” He asks. You hear him moving back around you and can imagine he’s waving a hand in front of your face.

“Nothing. Dean, what’s this about?” You ask him. He chuckles and takes your hands in his, pulling on you. You take a couple of clumsy steps and hear the door of the Impala opening.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, guiding you carefully into the front seat of the car.

“You’re acting weird,” you tell him. You know he rolls his eyes again before closing the door. A moment later, the door on your other side opens and you feel Dean slide into the seat next to you. His hand comes to rest on your knee, the way it always does when you’re in the car together, before the car starts to move. His thumb rubs against your knee as he drives quietly.

“The Dean Winchester?” You ask, staring at the man next to you. He sits back slightly and nods. You’d heard plenty of stories about the Winchesters and all of their exploits. “I heard you were dead. Like – three different times.”

“Didn’t take. You’re a hunter?” He asks. You nod and look back at the bottle in your hands.

“Are you here for the case?” You ask. He sits back, shaking his head.

“No, actually we live just up the road,” he tells you. You look at him quickly.

“You live somewhere? Like…permanently?” You ask. He laughs lightly and nods, leaning forward onto the bar.

“Yea. Sammy and I have a place. It’s, ugh, an old bunker for a secret society that died out in the 50’s. It’s pretty awesome,” he says. You nod, mulling this over for a moment. “So what’s the case?” He asks, looking back at you now. You shrug and glance at the window.

“Vengeful spirit. Wanna go on a salt and burn with me?” You ask, smiling at him. You knew you could definitely use the muscle. It would take you all night to dig the grave up on your own. But with Dean’s help you could be done in a few hours and maybe even have time for a little something else. Dean smiles as he watches you, as though reading your mind and nods.

“My car’s parked out front,” he says. You smile widely and quickly finish off your beer. Dean tosses some cash onto the bar before rising to his feet and holding a hand out for you. You take his hand, your fingers interlocking, as he pulls you from the bar.

You feel the car come to a stop and cut off. The driver door opens then closes and a moment later your door opens. Dean’s hand takes yours and he carefully helps you from the car. You can smell the dirt and feel the soft earth under your feet.

“Dean, where are we??” You ask, sighing. He stops you by placing his hands on your shoulders from behind. He reaches up and pulls the blindfold off. You blink against the late evening sunlight and look around. It was a sight you knew well but you were very confused as to why you were here. “A cemetery? Are we working a case?” You ask, looking back at Dean. He rolls his eyes.

“Not just any cemetery,” he says, turning you to face the graves again. You sigh as you look around before breaking into a wide smile as it hits you.

“Our first date,” you say as his arms snake around your waist.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hole you and Dean had been working on for some time now. He’s shed a couple of layers, his jacket and flannel shirt, leaving himself only in the tight black t-shirt that clung to him with sweat. You bite your lip as you watch him move another shovel full of dirt out of the hole.

“Ya know, as much as I love that you’re checking me out right now, we could be done if you’d help,” he says suddenly, looking over at you. You blink then smile coyly and shrug.

“Well, you’ve been trying to show off this whole time I thought I’d finally let you,” you tell him. He stops and turns to face you, resting his arm on the standing shovel.

“It is working?” He asks with a smirk. You shake your head as you look him over. Pushing off the ground, you slide down into the grave and walk over to him.

“I mean, if I had a thing for the sexy, bad-boy hunter with a heart of gold, maybe,” you say. He throws his head back laughing and you suddenly realize you could spend the rest of your life watching him laugh. You quickly shake away those thoughts as you reach for the shovel. You dig into the dirt and hit something hard instantly. Looking back at Dean, you smirk, “Finished.” His eyes narrow and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you kneel down and wipe the dirt from the top of the coffin. With Dean’s help, you pry open the top half of the casket.

“Well, there she is,” he says, pointing to the old bones.

Dean climbs out of the hole then offers you a hand. You take his hand and allow him to pull you out as well. Your pour the salt over the remains as Dean dumps the gasoline in. You pull the box of matches from your back jean pocket and strike one on the side of the box before dropping the lit match into the open coffin.

“So,” Dean starts as the flames engulf the body. You look over at him. “You think I’m sexy.” You roll your eyes and grab two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss quickly. His hands find your waist instantly as his lips move against yours. You pull away from his lips abruptly and take one of his hands in yours, pulling him away from the burning grave and back to the Impala parked a few yards away. “Are we leaving?” Dean asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice. You laugh lightly and open the back door before sliding in.

“You coming?” You ask, looking out at him when he doesn’t follow. He stares down at you in disbelief before shaking his head and getting in quickly, closing the door behind him. You move into his lap, straddling his waist as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Ya know, I’ve got a bed back at the bunker,” he says, his fingers grazing the skin at the edge of your shirt. You smile and lean in, kissing his lips briefly.

“We’ll get there eventually,” you tell him. He smirks slightly.

“Oh?” He asks. You laugh lightly and nod, running your fingers against the back of his neck.

“Well, yea. You said you’d need at least a week with me, right?” You ask. He blinks and his smirk turns into a wide smile.

“I did say that,” he says, nodding. You smile and lean back in to him, pausing just before meeting his lips again. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday, Sweetheart.” You let out a laugh before kissing him.

Dean’s lips graze against your cheek gently and you smile, running your hands over his arms. He squeezes your waist slightly before turning you around to face him. You bite your lip and look down.

“I didn’t think you remembered,” you confess. He smiles before his lips find your forehead and you look back up at him.

“I remember everything about that night. I remember what you were wearing, what you were drinking. I remember the entire conversation on the way to the cemetery. I remember that first kiss and then you taking charge like you did. I remember taking you back to the bunker and staying up all night just talking. And the next morning, we made breakfast together and you met Sammy,” he says, his eyes soft as he watches you. You swallow hard, suddenly on the brink of tears. “And you stayed for a week.”

“And that week turned into two which turned into a month,” you say, laughing lightly. Dean smiles and his lips graze down the bridge of your nose.

“And a year later, here we are,” he says, his voice soft. You smile and close your eyes, standing there in his arms. His lips brush against your cheek before coming to rest next to your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. Your smile somehow manages to grow even wider as you lean away from him slightly. He’s watching you again, afraid he’s stepped too far. You stand up and press your lips against his in a soft, tender kiss. You feel him smile against your lips before you pull away.

“I love you too,” you tell him. He lets out a breath and you laugh lightly. “Did you think otherwise?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re too good for me. It would make more sense if you didn’t,” he says. You roll your eyes at him before running your fingers into his hair.

“I moved in with you pretty much after one night together. I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him. He smiles and nods slightly.

“Well that’s good, cause I meant what I said a year ago,” he tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m gonna marry you someday.” You laugh again before pressing your lips against his, hoping it wouldn’t take him a year to get around to that too.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader #reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #song fic #fanfiction #fanfic #spn

[x-reader-theater]

Secret Messages from a Lover

summary: While you're streaming, your boyfriend sends you a message.

pairing: Corpse Husband x Gender Neutral Reader (no pronouns are used.)

word count: 670

warnings: none.

a/n: i really just needed to write something so self-indulgent because god i want this so bad. i figured others want it too. i've been so depressed lately that I just need a little fantasy, you know? my requests are open, and you can find my request rules here.

“God, that video is so fucking funny,” you say, pulling your blanket around your shoulders tighter with one hand while the other brings your patterned tumbler with the sparkly straw up to your mouth, so you can drink your water. Your knees pull further up to your chest, which is easily done in your very spacious gaming chair. “OTV never fucking misses.”

You press a button on your stream deck, switching from the video you were just watching to your face, with chat scrolling in the top left-hand corner. You take another sip from your tumbler and pick out one of the comments passing by, scrolling to stop it from moving as you read it aloud.

“Were you on the newest Fear& episode? I was. QT, Hasan, Will, and I just kinda chatted for a bit. That was a good fucking episode, though,” you say with a grin. “Love those guys. QT especially, she’s fucking hilarious. She makes me laugh so fucking hard whenever I talk to her, even if we disagree on Taylor Swift.”

You keep scrolling back down, so you can keep seeing the comments when another one jumps out at you. “Are you gonna keep streaming? Yeah, chatter, I actually just started before that OTV video. I think Toast is gonna invite me to some Pico Park today? If not, I’ll just play some Valorant or something to pass the time. I gotta git good if I wanna beat, well, anyone,” you admit with a laugh, hiding your shame by taking another drink of water.

You see your phone light up in front of you. It’s a Discord notification, which you quickly check on your second monitor, assuming it’s Toast inviting you to the Discord call.

It’s not. It’s your boyfriend, Corpse.

“You look so cute today babe. You look so cosy wrapped up in your blanket and your smile is so bright. I'll never get tired of seeing it. I love you and have a good stream 🖤”

You feel your cheeks heat up at that, and you take a sip of your water to try and hide your reaction. You haven’t told anyone you're dating Corpse yet, and you have no plans on it any time soon, but he makes you so happy you find it hard not to blurt it out whenever you can.

You send back a bunch of yellow hearts and an “I love you too!!!!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛”, biting your lip as you type on your very satisfying, clack-y keyboard.

That’s when you get the notification from Toast to join the shared call.

“Ah! Toast’s calling!” you exclaim for the benefit of your audience.

You quickly join the call, the connection sound filling you comfortable, over the ear headphones.

“Hey! What’s up!” you say into the call, getting a couple of “Hey!”’s and “Hello!”’s back.

Then you hear a familiar voice say, “What’s up.”

“Corpse!” You’re grinning at this point as you continue, “I didn't know you were gonna be playing!”

“Uh, yeah. Toast invited me last minute. Surprise?” he says like it’s a bad thing.

“We haven’t played anything together in a while and I saw him online and thought, ‘Fuck it,’ yaknow?” Toast asks and you chuckle.

“Well, it’s good to talk to you again, Corpse,” you say, setting your tumbler down on your desk. He got you that tumbler for your birthday not long ago, and it’s your favourite thing you own. He also got you the blanket that’s wrapped around your shoulders for your six-month anniversary, and it’s the warmest blanket in your house. You always wear it when you stream because the A/C is always blasting.

“It’s good to talk to you too,” you say, shivering as your heart hammers at his words.

You begin loading up Pico Park, just listening to everyone talk to each other, when you get another notification on Discord.

“I love you 🖤” it says.

“I love you too 💛” you reply, smiling into the camera for just a moment, just for him.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x you #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse husband x gender neutral reader #corpse husband x gender neutral!reader #corpse x gender neutral reader #corpse x gender neutral!reader

[bloompompom]

Count to Ten

In which you gift your husband a Polaroid camera, granting him exactly ten opportunities to take whatever pictures he wants of you.

♡ content: ~4k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern/domestic au, established relationship, porn without plot, consenting sexy photos, oral sex (f!receiving & brief m!receiving), body worship, mentions of reader wearing a dress, mentions of spit, pet names, alcohol, eren's a punk but we love him anyway, mushy fluff? idk i think it's cute. ♡ a/n: this has been rotting my brain for weeks so i finally had to bestow this filth upon you, enjoy.

You and Eren had been together for a while now. Married for one year to the day—happy anniversary to you!—and dating much longer than that. So while, yes, today was a big day, it wasn’t as though you hadn’t celebrated countless anniversaries before. 

That wasn’t to say you didn’t want to make it special. Of course you did, who wouldn’t? There was more than enough reason to celebrate. You were soul-mated, bursting to the seams, positively buzzing with love. Humming and twirling like Cinderella while doing chores as menial as folding dryer-fresh bath towels. 

Cynics would say you were still wandering in the mooniness of new marriage, but you’d argue that had long worn off. Living together, seeing each other at your very worst—chilled, snotty-nosed, curled in sticky, feverish bedsheets—and peeing with the bathroom door wide open didn’t really leave much mystique there, did it? 

Or, on the flip side, perhaps it was more apt to say the honeymoon phase never truly ended. The spark never died, the fun never faded, because your husband (Husband! You were still getting used to that) would rather die than let that happen.

You never had to worry about Eren forgetting your anniversary. If anything, he was always one to go over the top if you didn’t reign him in every once in a while. Which was the exact reason you told him you only wanted to go out for dinner, just the two of you, at that fancy-schmancy place—as he liked to call it—downtown. 

Keeping in mind that Eren was the type to overdo it, you had a not-so-sneaking hunch he’d buy you a present, no matter how many times you insisted he didn’t need to. In preparation for just that, you planned something. Little, hidden up your sleeve, but all for him. 

You were good about sealing your lips, too, despite the gift arriving at your porch days ahead of schedule. You didn’t even drop a single hint when he greeted you after work that evening, the same huge smile on his face as always—“Hi, beautiful!”—squeezing you in those big arms. 

And they said marriage, especially the first year, was hard work. 

Eren made the dinner reservation, just as you requested, and you managed to hold onto your secret until you returned home for the night, bellies full, with faces warmed and tingly from expensive wine.

“A Polaroid camera?” Eren questioned. He was as delicate about it as he could be—you know, for someone who had never been delicate about anything in his entire life.

A confused smile, though a smile nonetheless, twitched at the corner of his mouth. You could practically see the gears shifting in his head, like he was trying to recall a time he may have mentioned an interest in photography. He did have a habit of starting (and dropping) new hobbies on a near-monthly basis. 

Traditionally, the theme for a first-anniversary gift was paper. In a roundabout way, photo paper counted. At least, that was what you told yourself when you bought it. 

Paper was supposed to represent a blank slate, ready to be slathered with memories of your new life together. And that was nice and all, but you had another idea in mind for using up the film.

Eren held the camera in his hands. It was already freed from its original packaging, sitting lonely in the box you had wrapped while he was at work. 

You inched closer to him on the couch while he inspected it, perching on your knees to drape your arms over his broad shoulders. You ran your hands down the front of his shirt, his toned chest beneath your fingertips. You did it slowly, like you were insinuating something, but Eren couldn’t begin to guess what. You caught the intrigued look on his face as you peered over his shoulder. 

You brushed some loose hair behind his ear and kissed his cheek. Eren noted the grin in your voice as you whispered, “I’ve already loaded it with film.” You kissed the spot below his ear, felt the shudder it gave him. “I thought we could use it together.” His neck was next, where his pulse throbbed beneath your lips. “However you’d like. Whenever you’d like.” You moved his shirt’s collar out of the way, trailing your lips lower. “But don’t forget, there are only ten photos, and once you’re out, you’re out.” 

It was something for him and him alone. Tucked away in his bedside drawer for those times—though few and far between—when he was left missing you. Sure, you could always text him a photo; you had done so before. But this was different. More personal. Tangible proof that he could hold between his fingers and know you were irrevocably his. 

Truthfully, Eren was tempted to ask right then and there if he could keep his favorite in his wallet—whichever photo that may be, the anticipation was ruining him already—but he didn’t want to test his luck yet. 

You were glad you decided to hold off exchanging gifts until after dinner. Otherwise, there was no way you would have made your reservation. You didn’t even get the chance to open your present. Not that you minded, obviously. The cute little box sat ignored on the coffee table as Eren tugged you onto his lap. You straddled him as he made out with you, your dress riding higher and higher up your thighs. His hands smoothed from the small of your back to your revealed shoulder blades. His palms, hot and already commanding, pressed you against him, and you let his tongue swipe past your lips. 

It was his own Eren-esque way of thanking you for the gift. He’d undoubtedly say it a million times later; you could predict it already. It was just that he was a little occupied right now, what with you helplessly grinding against him and all. 

He was already hard by the thought of what he could have you do for him—for the camera. Fuck, you could feel it too, your clothed pussy rutting against him, making a mess of the front of his dress pants as you whimpered into his mouth. It was a gift for him, but you vastly underestimated just how much it’d turn you on as well, knowing how fiercely he craved you, every part of you.

Eren wanted nothing more than to take you then. And he could have, but he’d rather have you strewn beneath him on your soft bed. He wanted to bask in you. The expanse of you, bare, and ready for him. Then, he could snap a photo, freeze time, and savor the sight of you forever. 

But was it too soon to take the first photo? Already, Eren was worried about running out of film, and he hadn’t even put a finger to the button. It was a gift, but it might as well have been a curse, and he was sure that was your intention. Even so, he couldn’t take it anymore. All at once, Eren whisked you to your shared bedroom and stripped you from your dress. 

It wasn’t long before Eren settled on what was worthy of his first photograph. He wished to capture the very moment he pushed inside you. The look on your face you always wore—the tiny ‘o’ your mouth made, the quirk of your brows—right when he stretched you on his cock. His absolute favorite, even years later (Really, how lucky were you that he was still this obsessed with you?) By now, he had it memorized, that heavenly expression that’d grace your features, lasting no longer than a blink of an eye but now something he could look at ceaselessly. Over and over and over again. 

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his sweet time with you. No, he wouldn’t let you get off that easily, knowing you were teasing him when you reminded him there were only ten photos. 

Eren kissed you deeply with one hand wrapped around the back of your neck. His lips were smooth and slow, thoughtful, kissing you in a way he knew would leave you desperate. He would have you begging for it—for him—before he’d give you just a single drop. He’d wait as long as he deemed necessary, expertly timing his photo to preserve that angelic look you get—the rapturous mix of relief, pleasure, and a desire for more. 

You tasted him and the bottle of red wine you shared over dinner. He was sweet on the back of your tongue. You were dizzy, your head thrown back into the feathery pillows as his lips left yours to kiss the side of your face. He dawdled there, hot breath fanning over your ear as he lightly took the lobe of it between his teeth. You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as his mouth traveled to your neck next. Then the dip of your collarbone and between your breasts. 

He peeled your bra off, one strap at a time, wasting no time to lift you to undo the clasp at your back. He licked and nipped at the sensitive skin. The cool bedroom air stood in a woozy contrast to the gentle heat of his mouth. He ran his large hand down your side, comforting your squirming as he flicked your perked nipple with his tongue. You were always so sensitive. It was something he liked best about you. 

You felt the sear of it when his lips curled into a smile against your skin. Smug already because you were practically panting, hips writhing beneath him, and he hadn’t even reached for your underwear. 

Eren knew you’d gift him the loveliest face when he finally sank inside you, where only he could reach. The bliss that’d wash over you once he tamed the ache between your legs—your gorgeous fucking legs. He slipped your panties down your thighs, wondering if it would be weird if he took a photo of them.

“God, Eren,” you whispered. It was ragged, nothing more than a hobbled breath. “Please.”

A lazy smile tugged at his lips. “Please, what?”

He hovered over you, pressed his forehead to yours. He didn’t just want to hear it but feel it, taste it, when you spoke it into his mouth—when you asked him, with that satiny voice of yours, to please fuck you.

You realized what he was after when he reached for the camera, almost lost in the tangle of clothes and sheets. Eren held himself with one hand planted in the mattress, the tip of his cock laying at your entrance. He angled back to aim the camera straight at your face. Behind it was the signature smirk you knew all too well. Before you could comment, he tilted his hips, filling you in one powerful thrust.

He predicted it, down to the very shape of your mouth. And right when your eyes fluttered shut—flash—it was bright behind your lids. 

One down. Nine to go. 

You thought Eren would toss the camera aside, fuck you like you wanted him to, but he did the opposite. He immediately pulled out and sat back on his knees, somehow more riveted by the photo than the real you, naked and needy below him. Seriously?

You propped yourself on your elbows with a pout. “Can’t this wait?”

“I wanna see it. It’ll just be a second,” he said, waving the photo in the air. 

“I don’t think that does anything.”

He ignored you, impatiently inspected the picture—still developing—then waved it around some more. He didn’t even notice when you perked higher, leaning into him, stealing his attention the only way you knew how. 

Yup the camera—and the hazy photo, for that matter—were soon forgotten. Tossed aside the moment you wrapped your dainty fingers around his shaft. You pumped his cock with one hand as you swirled your tongue over his tip, taking him past your wetted lips. 

A groan strained from him once your lusty eyes gazed up into his. He had no choice but to reach for the camera again, even in his clouded state with his cock down your throat. How could he not? You looked so magnificent, just like this. Hollowed cheeks, blown-out pupils, swollen lips working up and down his length. 

But he’d make it up to you of course. He still needed to thank you for the gift, after all. And once you heard the click of the camera, he did just that, giving you all the attention you deserved. 

The third photo, in hindsight, was one you should have seen coming from a mile away, given Eren’s boyish tendencies. If you were to guess, you thought he would have snapped a photo while you were sleeping. An unflattering picture of you with a flailing arm over your head or drool on your pillow—something along those lines. 

Oh, don’t worry, he considered it. Eren was actually thisclose to going through with it, thinking it’d be funny to slide you the picture when you least expected it, but he restrained himself. He did take one with his phone, though.

Another, much better, idea popped into his head. He didn’t even need to wait that long, just until you woke up for your morning shower. 

Picture it—no pun intended: The metallic slinking of the shower curtain ripping open. The humiliating sound that escaped you, living somewhere between a shriek and a choke. And the snap of that damned camera you were really regretting buying.

“Eren!” 

You were surprised you stayed upright, your heart beating so fast you surely thought it had hopped into your throat. You swore it then: there was no doubt this man would be the death of you. Especially with his stupid snickering, steadfast even as you sprayed him with the showerhead.

It was more of a prank than anything. A harmless one at that, if you asked Eren. But prank or not, past the water running down your face, your expression scrunched, he couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on your chest. Nor was it his fault that he happened to catch you before you’d rinsed off, your tits barely hidden behind suds and bubbles. And, well….

“Absolutely not!” you rebuked when he tried to join you, all smooth-like, as if that didn’t just happen. And when you yanked the curtain shut, Eren retreated to the kitchen, giggling to himself while he fixed your morning coffee, exactly how you liked it, in his attempt to get back on your good side. 

It was another few days before Eren reminded you of that damned camera’s existence. On a Sunday evening of all days, when you were least expecting it. Okay, maybe the shower incident claimed that title, but this was an extremely close second. 

Earlier, you had told him you planned to watch the newest season of your favorite show, uninterrupted. It had just dropped, and you wanted to squeeze in as many episodes as possible before bed. He didn’t seem to think much of it—even said he’d come and join you at some point. That is, until you passed one another in the hallway. 

“You can’t do this to me, babe,” Eren groaned, almost a complaint but more like a whine, as if you were purposefully doing something to spite him. 

The soft smile you greeted him with drooped. 

“Do what?” you asked, plopping onto the couch and snuggling between its cushions.

Eren shot you a look, his head cocked to the side—‘Come on already’—like you couldn’t possibly be serious. 

But it was an honest question. The only thing you had done in the last thirty seconds was walk by him on your merry way back from the kitchen, oversized snack bowl in hand and filled to the brim, clad in one of his old tees and a pair of underwear—

Oh.

Eren turned to leave the room, and you just got this feeling. 

You set the bowl on the end table and called for him in a drone of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you’re getting the Polaroid.”

He shouted back, “You know it,” and by the sound of it, he was already halfway to the bedroom where he kept it. 

He returned just as hastily as he disappeared, camera in hand. Surprise, surprise. 

You bit back your amused smile as you watched him sink to his knees on the floor before you. He traced a hand up the length of your thigh, toying with the band of your underwear with his fingertips. 

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he said in that low voice you loved—the one you always felt in your chest, like the thrum of a bass. 

“Right now?” you questioned, despite raising your hips once he hooked your panties around his fingers. You shimmied, helping Eren slither them down your legs until they hung at your ankle before flopping to the floor. 

“You said whenever I wanted, didn’t you?” he teasingly reminded. You made a face, and it pulled a chuckle from under his breath. “And I still have seven photos left.”

You couldn’t fight off your grin. It was coquettish and bashful as he beamed up at you, eyes darkened and dreamy, like his entire world was between your thighs. 

Eren had you lay back into the corner of the couch. He closed a hand around your ankles, one by one, bending your legs at the knee to place your feet onto the cushions—spreading you for him. The only decency left between you was his baggy shirt. 

“Hold it out of the way for me, baby. I wanna see you.”

You lifted the hem of it to expose your bare pussy to him.

Fucking perfect. “Yeah, like that.” He got this cheesy look on his face, pointing the camera to capture all of you, fully on display. “Now, smile.”

Part of you wanted to kick the smirk right off his face. But you’d never do that; you were so weak to him, a flouncy giggle leaving you as your husband tickled at your side. You couldn’t help that it was entirely endearing, not to mention flattering, that he found you, even like this, deeply irresistible. 

“Gotcha,” he boasted with the snap of the shutter. 

Unlike the first time, he abandoned the camera immediately. Wholly unable to contain himself—captivated by you splayed before him, at face-level, like that—he looped his arms around your thighs. He pulled you closer, your legs slipping from the couch and comfortably onto his shoulders. 

“God, I fucking love you,” he breathed, intended for you but spoken right between your legs, his eyes fixed there. He licked you once with no warning, no teasing, only his tongue swiping through you. “You gonna let me return the favor since you were so good for the camera?”

A sharp gasp escaped you, like a hiss, and your head lolled back between your shoulders. You bobbed your head in an eager yes, and he lapped at you a few more times. Slow and wet strokes of his tongue before he focused on your clit. Kissing it, flicking a pointed tongue against it, kindling the fire in the low part of your stomach. Your breathing quickened. 

The more you wiggled, the firmer his grip on you, the blunt of his nails burrowing into your thighs. You noticed the sting of it when he released your right thigh. 

Eren took your hand into his and laid it on the camera at your side. His mouth only left you to say, “I want you to take a picture. One of your face. Can you do that for me?” 

He kissed the crease of your inner thigh, his breath hot on your skin, but you felt it glow at the base of your spine. 

“Take it right when I make you come, okay?”

The plea in his voice, the honeyed coo of it—it softened you. No, it absolutely melted you. It wasn’t demanding in the slightest but a needful, urgent request.

Eren knew how much you loved when he went down on you; you always made that very clear with those sweet, tiny moans of yours. He was always ready, willing, and more than happy to oblige, but he could admit he hated missing out on your face when you came on his tongue. He wanted to learn it for himself, see how you looked with your head thrown back in ripples of pleasure. And he wanted to have it forever, for safekeeping. 

He only continued where he left off once you agreed and took the camera between your hands. Eren worked his way back to the pace you liked, steadily at first, kissing and making out with your pussy until he sucked at your clit with plush lips. And when he added the tip of his tongue, your stomach started to coil. 

Selfishly, you thought he looked like he was meant to be there. Handsome as ever, his dazy, green eyes bright against the flushed hue of his cheeks. You lifted a hand to his head, brushing the curtain of hair from his face. 

“I’m going to take one of you,” you giggled airly. You angled the camera toward Eren, the lewd sight of him worshipping between your legs. 

As if you had yanked a fire alarm, he immediately stopped what he was doing. 

“Don’t,” he exclaimed. He turned the camera away from him. “It was my gift, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but conceded only because you really wanted him to continue. He wasn’t above toying with you, if that wasn’t obvious enough already. 

Eren closed his mouth over your pussy. He was sloppy about it, spitting and spreading it over you with the flat of his tongue.  

You let the camera fall beside you, hands twitching and tensing like you needed to grab ahold of something—him, the Polaroid, your last smidgen of sanity—you didn’t know what. That iron-hot coil in your stomach wound and clenched. Closer and closer to coming undone, you rolled over his tongue, him encouraging you as he moved your hips with you. 

“Come for me, baby.” It was a slurry of words, a wet mumble against you. Every syllable was another vibration through you, bringing you to the very edge.

You picked up the camera with shaky arms.

“Make it real pretty for me,” he told you.

You didn’t want to imagine what sort of contorted face you would make, and you wouldn’t dare peek at the photo later, but you aimed the lens at your face anyway. It was his anniversary gift, after all—one you thought of, at that. No going back now, so you might as well make sure he got the most out of it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, eyes screwed shut.

“It’s a photo, not a video,” he taunted as your whimpers grew louder. 

“Fuck off, Eren,” you whined into your breathy moan of an exhale. You laced a hand in his pretty brown hair and pushed his loud mouth back between your legs. 

You came then, hard, cursing and crying out your husband’s name. It was a miracle you could even snap the photo. But you did, and you chucked the camera aside, unconcerned as to where it might land. 

The feeling was overwhelming—nearly too much. As you twisted away from his mouth, Eren knew it was his cue to bring you closer, to pull you down onto his tongue the way you wanted him to. His grasp on you was firm, but his thumb drew soothing circles against your skin, right where the fat of your thighs met your hips. 

Once you were a mere puddle of yourself, limply lying across the couch, Eren licked his lips clean to reveal his flashy smile. He didn’t look for the photograph this time—a lesson in patience—but crawled onto the couch to pull you into his arms. 

Eren tucked your head beneath his chin, his nose pushed into the crown of your head, breathing you in. He smoothed a loving hand up and down your back, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“Five left. Think you can handle it?”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren smut

[midnightfictionlibrary]

One Whole Year - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

One Whole Year - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader 

Content : fluff fluff fluff

Word Count : 595

Summary : One whole year with Jamie Tartt, and you receive the best gift of all. 

Based on Anon Request : Hi, I just had the idea of a Jamie Tartt imagine where for he and his girlfriend's 1 year anniversary, the boys get Jamie's girl a shirt that says "Jamie Tartt fan club" as a gag gift but she underratedly loves it? 

A/N : I hope I did what you had in mind justice, anon! This was so fun to write. Not as long as some of my other fics, but still sweet and fluffy <3 As always, please like and reblog if you’d like to see more. 

You’re flicking through the photos on your phone, amazed at just how many Jamie has made it into the past year, and you smile to yourself, thinking back on how shy he was when the two of you made it official. 

Jamie leans over the top of the couch, planting a kiss on the top of your head and nodding towards your open phone. “Lookin’ at how fit I am, yeah?” 

You playfully roll your eyes and reach up, catching his cheeks in your hand. “Why would I need pictures for that when I’ve got the real thing right here?” 

Even with his face squished in your hand, Jamie still manages to stick his tongue out, that little display to show he knows he’s the shit. You laugh, pulling him down to meet you for a chaste kiss. 

“Enough of all that, we’re meeting the boys today.” Jamie scolds playfully, standing straight again. You look up at him, admiring all his angles and curves, wondering how you got to be so lucky with such a handsome man. You stand, intertwining your fingers with Jamie’s as you come around the couch, and he pulls you into a crushing hug, but uses his fingers to lightly caress your face. “Happy anniversary, love.”

A soft smile finds its way to your lips and your eyes flutter. “Happy Anniversary, J.” 

“Oi! There they are!” You hear a voice yell as you walk into Ola’s. Isaac’s face is spread in a wide grin, Sam waving wildly behind him. You can’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm. You always thoroughly enjoyed how much the boys supported each other, finding it impossibly sweet how much they supported each other. You wave back to the boys, sliding into the chair next to Isaac. 

“We got you something.” He says gruffly. 

You blink in surprise and look at Jamie, who shrugs in return. You turn back to Isaac, brows furrowed. “You didn’t -” But you don’t even get to finish your sentence, the burly footballer is thrusting a bag into your hands, and you have no choice but to take it from him. 

You look curiously at the team, who all seem to be staring at you, and rustle through the layers of tissue paper. You pull out a tshirt, Richmond colors and emblazoned with large white letters. You stare at it. 

“You don’t actually have to wear it, “ Sam starts, but you scoff. 

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You squeal with excitement, getting up and running to the bathroom to put it on. When you return, Jamie bursts into laughter. 

Your new tshirt reads : JAMIE TARTT FANCLUB PRESIDENT. You grin at Jamie, practically skipping over to him to give him a kiss. The team cheers, causing you and Jamie both to blush, but you don’t mind. 

You don’t mind at all.

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso

[yeonzzzn]

ask and yee shall receive 😘 sweet sunoo who's had a bad week and everything seems to piss him off, well this annoys you and you start to get snappy. eventually pushing him over the edge and he punishes you without any remorse 🤭😈

hehe hope this helps 😉💍

holy hell I am in love with this 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 like thinking of sunoo as the little ray of sunshine but the moment you piss him off when he’s already irritated, he’s a demon and I love it

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no remorse: kim sunoo

pairing: sunoo x afab!reader word count: 2.2k

You nearly jumped out of your seat at the kitchen table and dropped your coffee cup to the floor upon hearing the sound of the apartment door slamming and rattling the photo frames on the wall.

Your boyfriend let out a loud groan of irritation, dropping his backpack to the floor with a loud thud kicking his shoes off, and tossing them across the living room.

You sat still in the kitchen, slowly tracing your eyes to the living room and seeing him drop onto the couch, dangling his legs over the armrest. After a few heartbeats, you finally spoke up, “Everything okay, Sun?”

Your boyfriend mumbled some words into the cushions of the couch. You set the coffee cup down and turned to face him, sitting in the chair, “I couldn’t hear you Sun, please can you repe—“

He quickly sat up on the couch, peering at you over the top of the couch, “I fucking said does it look like everything is okay?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, shifty turning back to face the table and take a sip of your hot coffee. You weren’t going to deal with the attitude today, not one bit. So you decided to ignore his comment and go back to doing what you were before he came home: relaxing and enjoying your coffee.

There was shuffling of Sunoo getting off the couch and walking to the kitchen, standing at the corner looking at you. You could see him through your peripherals, his arms were crossed and his lips pouting with a fire that blazed in his eyes. It honestly takes a lot to piss off Sunoo. He’d normally just give you attitude or be sassy and laugh off the rest. Very rarely does he genuinely get pissed off, but when he does…hell breaks loose.

Usually, you’re able to tame the demon that comes out. To reel him back into reality and calm him down. But some days—like today—there was no way to tame it, having to let whatever he was fighting for him to do it alone. You already tried speaking to him nicely and softly and he bit your head off, and you weren’t in the mood to try and calm him down. It wasn’t in the cards for today.

“Did you make enough for me too?” he asked, shifting his eyes from you to the coffee pot that was still clearly, half full.

It was obvious you made enough for the two of you, you always made sure to double up on anything you made so your sweet ray of sunshine could have some when he got the chance to.

But instead of speaking to him, you nod, taking another sip.

He stomps to the coffee pot, opening and slamming the cabinets and not very gently setting his favorite coffee cup that you made him for your anniversary last year with his initials, a sun, and a heart on it, down on the counter.

You gripped your cup, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping at him, wanting to keep the peace. You swallowed the last bit of your coffee, and slowly stood and walked to the sink to wash out your cup.

Sunoo continued his antics of not being gentle with the cup and even the coffee pot. Slamming the pot back into the machine. spilling what little was left onto the counter.

You aggressively finished washing the cup and tossed it onto the drying rack, your irritation now rising up. Sunoo clocked your attitude, only furthering his irritation, “What is up with you?”

You quickly face him, thinning your lips, watching as he takes two big gulps of his coffee, and tossing the cup into the sink behind you.

“We aren’t doing this,” you snapped, pointing your finger to the sink, “Wash it and wash out that attitude.”

Sunoo was having an absolutely terrible week, college was kicking his ass, his job was kicking his ass, none of his friends were available to hang out with him due to their schedules, and Sunoo didn’t want to bother you when you have your own college and work life to balance out. Sunoo knew he could go to you for anything and everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to drop his problems onto you when you just got promoted at work and had a major project coming up for one of your classes. He knew you didn’t deserve this attitude, but he couldn’t stop himself from dishing it out to you, his anger and frustration spilling out over the top.

So he raises a brow at you, getting even more pissy that you snapped at him, “Excuse you?”

Absolutely fucking not.

“Excuse me? Excuse YOU!” you scoffed, pointing your index finger into his chest, “You’re the one walking about here with a sour attitude, fix it!”

You tried to walk away, but Sunoo stepped out in front of you. But you didn’t let that stop your stride, shoving your shoulder into his as you walked past him, pushing him off to the side.

“YN!” he called after you, watching as you made your way to the bedroom, ignoring him completely, “YN!” he called again.

You slam the bedroom door, completely being done with him and his attitude.

Oh, but Sunoo wasn’t done with you.

Just as fast as you slammed it shut, he was shoving it open and kicking it closed with his foot. Hands on you immediately as he quickly turns you to face him, in one swift motion he’s bent down and gripping his hands to your thighs, lifting you up and tossing you onto the bed, “Think you can just speak to me like that and get away with it?” Suno hisses, dropping his jacket to the floor and placing a knee on the edge of the bed, slowly crawling to you, “Good girls don’t act that way.”

You sat up on your elbows, watching as he spread your legs with his knees, placing himself between them. Eyes locked with him as he came face to face with you. You tried to look angry with him but failed miserably at the touch of his fingers tracing up and down your thigh and brushing over your clothed cunt, shuttering underneath him.

“Got nothing more to say?” Sunoo teased, looping his fingers underneath your shirt and slowly moving up and up until your shirt was now across the room, “You were so snippy earlier, what happened?” he traced his fingers over your breasts, giving them both a squeeze then riding them up to the straps and sliding them down your arms, “Hmmm,” he hummed, reaching his hands behind your back to unclasp your bra and removing it from your body, “Should I fuck all this anger out? Punish you for giving me all this attitude?”

You swallowed, becoming so speechless as your boyfriend continued to undress you, leaving you bare to him. Sunoo loosened his tie and slid it off, taking both your arms and pinning them above you, tying your hands together through the pole of the headboard, “Perfect,” he chuckled, “Not getting to touch me while I fuck you dumb is the perfect punishment.”

And indeed it was. Sunoo knew it too, how much you loved touching him during sex. You couldn’t keep your hands off him. Tracing your hands over every inch of his body. Grabbing, scratching, and pulling him in any way possible while he’s buried so deep within your walls.

You were already squirming at being bound down and oh god did it send Sunoo crazy. He loved watching you squirm beneath him trying to get your hands free to touch him. He could read it all over your face on how badly this was affecting you. How wet your pussy was getting. Your slick was leaking out and already soaking the bed sheets.

He licked two fingers and slowly slid them into your cunt, loving the way you were already clenching around him, “So needy already?”

“Please Sun,” you begged, rolling your hips in time with his fingers working inside you, “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, using his free hand to hold your hips down, fucking his fingers in you faster, “Sorry won’t cut it here, princess. It’s too late for sorry.”

You arched your body when a third finger slipped into your cunt. He curled his fingers as he hit your sensitive spot, moving so fast and hard. The tension in your belly grew, knowing your release was near.

You tried to fight his hold on your hips, tried to lift them to reach your climax faster, but his hold was too strong. You clenched around him, feeling your sweet release approaching.

“No, no,” Sunoo sang, slipping his fingers from your sopping heat, “You cum when I let you.”

Tears filled your eyes when you looked at him, “Sun…please.”

He clicked his tongue and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it somewhere off in the room and sliding his pants and boxers down to the floor with it, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen, “Please what, princess?”

He pumped himself as he waited for your answer, “Use your words, tell Sun what you want, ya?”

“Fuck me,” you cried, the tears not streaming to your cheek, “Please I-I need to f-feel you.”

Sunoo smirked. Ahh your words were music to his ears. He hummed as he placed your legs over his shoulders, folding you completely, “Only good girls get their boyfriend's cock, are you going to be good?”

You aggressively nodded, wanting nothing more than to feel him buried balls deep in your pussy.

He clicked his tongue again, lining his red anger tip to your entrance, “I don’t believe you, not with the attitude you gave earlier. Snapping at me like that, hurt my feelings, princess.”

You knew he was toying with you. Knew he loved seeing you so desperate for him. The sweet ray of sunshine that usually makes you love to you all night long wasn’t here right now. The demon side of him was. And he wasn’t going to let you walk off scoff-free.

You opened your mouth to beg, but he didn’t give you the chance, shoving himself into you so relentlessly. Not even giving you the time to adjust to him, before he’s sliding back out and pushing back in. Rutting his hips against yours.

Every ounce of anger Sunoo had built up over this long week was coming out with every thrust. With every squeeze of his hands on your waist and every hard kiss, he pressed to your lips.

You continued to squirm underneath him with your hands bound to the headboard, legs squeezing around his neck. Sunoo dropped his head, groaning out in pleasure of his airways being constricted against your thighs, “Fuck, princess, feel so fucking good.”

He tilted his head, taking the plush of your thighs between his teeth, biting hard as he sucked on your skin.

His hands moved from your waist to your bound wrists, fucking into you harder and faster.

“Sun!” you cried out, the pain feeling so good it made you dizzy. You tried once again to release your hands so you could touch him. But with how tightly he tied you and his grip on your wrist, they weren’t going anywhere. The knot in the pit of your stomach built up again and snapping just as quickly, “Sun!” you moaned out his name, him moaning against your thighs and snapping his hips roughy against yours to help you ride out your high.

You sank your head into the pillow, mouth gaping open as your body tingled from your release. But Sunoo didn’t slow down, he was so lost in the pleasure your cunt gave him. So intent to continue the punishment and fucking his anger out.

“Sunoo,” you whispered, wiggling your arms, “Sun,” overstimulation took over you. Feeling more dizzy and out of breath as his hard thrusts continued.

He completely ignored you, but finally let go of your thigh from his mouth, taking deep breaths with each thrust. His climax was approaching and he wasn’t stopping until his anger was pushed out along with his cum.

Leaving no remorse.

“Sun,” you started to whimper, it only being more music to his ears, hearing how fucked out he has you under him, how overstimulated he’s got you. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his thrust became more sloppy, but he didn’t let up. No no. And he wouldn’t. Not yet.

Even with his sloppy thrust, he kept pushing, surely leaving bruises on your hips from his rutting on yours.

You called to him again, almost slipping one hand free. But Sunoo clocked it, gripping his hands tighter to your wrists, “Don’t,” he warns, now throwing his head back and releasing a gasp, shooting his white ropes between your gummy folds.

He kept thrusting slowly, riding out his high then dropping his weight on you.

He released his grip on your wrist, letting you finally slip free from the tie, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face.

“I feel better,” Sun whispered, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, “I am so sorry princess.”

You removed your legs from his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist, massaging the top of his head.

“Me too, Sun,” you kissed his forehead, “Just talk to me next time.”

He nodded, cuddling you tighter

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm

#yeonzzzn asks #sunshine #sunoo #kim sunoo #sunoo x reader #reader x sunoo #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #sunoo smut #yeonzzzn writing

[stars1997]

Anniversary Love

Paring(s): Nico Hischier x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut!! (18+) smut with plot, fingering, phone sex, mutual masturbation. (Not edited)

Summary: The team had a few away games over on the west coast this week. The away games also happen to fall on your and Nico’s anniversary. you decide to wear one of his jerseys when watching the game. he scores a few goals and to show him how proud you are of him you send him a few risky photos/videos.

word count: 1.7k

_________________________________________________

It was 9 p.m. on a Friday, and the Devils were going up against the LA Kings. The game didn’t start till 10 p.m. This gave you some time to make some dinner before the game started.

You made yourself a grilled cheese and some soup. Eating it quickly and sending a good luck text to Nico.

Some of the wives and girlfriends invited you over so you could all watch the game together. You told them you weren’t feeling the best, they told you it would be best if I stayed home and got some rest.

Cleaning up your dishes, there was only a couple of minutes before the game started. You went into your and Nico’s room and grabbed one of Nico’s jerseys.

Getting comfortable, slipping out of your day clothes, and leaving nothing but your underwear on. You slide on the jersey and some fluffy socks and make your way over to the couch.

Making yourself comfortable, grabbing the blanket that Nico and you use when you watch movies together. It took the rest of the time to turn on the TV and get the game on, when you finally got it up, they were getting ready for puck drop.

_________________________

The first period had gone by fast. The devils are up by one and the kings at zero. Nico was the one being interviewed during the first intermission. He looked flushed and all sweaty. The LA Kings were playing hard tonight so that meant that the Devils had to play harder.  

“You have been playing extra hard out there tonight. I know that LA has been pushing you guys to work hard but is there a reason why you are working just a little harder?” the interviewer asks Nico. Today is Nico’s and yours second anniversary. Even though we have been together for two years, him being away for so long always makes you sad.

“No, yeah. LA pushed us to be our best selves out there. We were very lucky to be able to get that goal. But I'm also playing for my lovely lady at home! Today is our two year anniversary. I love you and I’ll be home before you know it.” He looks at the camera for that last part, sending you a wink. The interviewer thanks him and he heads to the locker room.

Your cheeks were bright red. You pick up your phone to text him a photo of how red in the face you were. He sent back a quick heart and kissing face emoji. You let out a little giggle.

_________________________

They were in the middle of the second period. The devils are now up by two, the score now being three to one. Nico was fighting to get the puck out of the devil’s zone. He skates around the net sending the puck to Luke. He skates down the ice and passes by Luke. Luke sends the puck back to Nico. Nico was able to get a breakaway. Shooting the puck and making a goal.

“Yes!” your arms in the air as you cheer at the tv. After the goal they zoomed in you your boyfriend. He’s got a huge smile on his face, as he’s letting out huffs of air trying to catch his breath. Something about the excitement of the goal and how hot he looked when they zoomed in on him turned you on a little bit. Not long after they dropped the puck to continue the game Nico scored another goal.

The second intermission rolled around, and the score was now five to three, Nico scoring two of those goals. you decided to send him a little congratulation text.

_________________________

y/n: Oh my! Congrats babe on the two goals! do you think it’s because I’m wearing this? y/n: (photo of you in his jersey) Nico: Thank you, baby! Hoping for a third, just for you. Nico: You look hot in my jersey. I wish I was home to see you in it in person. y/n: Wish you were here so you could take it off me. Nico: Don’t do this to me right now baby. I need to head back out for third period. I love you and ill call you when I get to my hotel room.

You smile at your phone, an idea popping into your head.

_________________________

The third period went by a lot faster than you were expecting. They were able to keep the lead but not by much. The final score being five to three.

You were going to show him just how proud you were of him and how he played in tonight’s game. You open the camera app, setting your phone down on the couch so its resting against some pillows so it was able to get your whole body in frame.

First you decided to take a few photos. The first one, you’re sitting on your heels. Your back facing the camera so your able to see the number and his last name.

You lift the bottom of the jersey up just enough to show off the black lace thong that you have on underneath.

Turning so you’re now facing the camera you then lift the jersey up, flashing the camera as it took the photo.

The last photo you bring one of your hands down to your underwear, touching yourself over the lace, your other hand still holding up the jersey.

You let out a little giggle as you press the send button on the first photo.

_________________________

y/n: (photo) y/n: What do you think of this photo I took? Was thinking of posting it so people know that #13 is mine. Nico: No! you will not be posting that photo. y/n: What about these? y/n: (photo’s) Nico: Babe you need to stop sending me these when I’m still in the locker room with the boys. Now be a good girl and wait for me to call you when I get back to the hotel.

Another giggle left your lips at his text.

y/n: Yes sir.

_________________________

You waited about twenty minutes, but you were growing impatient. pulling down your underwear, tossing them onto the floor next to you. Setting the camera back up as you press record.

You position yourself so your back is against the arm rest. Your hands playing with your tits before you slide your right hand down, sliding your fingers through your folds.

Your quick to send it to Nico. Although you didn’t get a response back right away. It takes a minute for your phone to ring. You pick it up to see that Nico is facetiming you.

“Why are you such a brat?” he says as his face comes into frame on your phone.

“Only for you baby. I’m so happy for you! Two goals that’s amazing.”  You give him a cute little smile, trying to act innocent. “Thank you, baby, but that’s not going to detract me form the fact that you were being a brat earlier and still being one now. You made me hard right after I got out of the shower, I only had my towel on. Everyone was confused why I was taking so long to get dressed.” You knew that if he was home, he would have you over his lap right now.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to show you how proud I was of you tonight. Did you not like it?” you ask still acting innocent. As he starts to talk, your hand reaches down to play with your clit. “No baby I love when you show me how proud of me you are, but you should have waited till I got back to the hotel. You know better than to send me stuff like that Infront of the guys.” You let out a little moan when he finishes his sentence.

“Man, you really like being a brat don’t you,” he says, your fingers don’t stop though. You could hear his zipper, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. You hear shuffling then his face pops back into frame with the headboard behind him.

He spits in his hand bringing it to his cock, his head tips back and he lets out a moan. “Fuck baby I wish I was with you right now. I wish this was your hand stroking me.” He says, stroking his cock faster. your fingers rub your clit faster, matching his speed.

“I hate that you’re going to be gone for so long. We’re going to have to do this every night,” I say, he lets out a little laugh.

“Fuck. Set your phone up so I can see you and use your other hand to finger yourself.” His accent stronger now then before. You set your phone up, doing what he told you to do.

You let out a loud moan as you curl your finger inside you. You’re trying to keep your moans down, not wanting to get another noise complaint.

You can hear him mumble curse words under his breath after every grunt and moan that he lets out. “Baby I’m not going to be able to last any longer. I want you to cum with me.” You nod letting him know that your also close.

“Fuck Nico. I’m,” you’re not able to finish your sentence because your cut off by the loud moan that leaves your mouth. You hear Nico let out a grunt, letting you know that he came as well.

“Fuck baby I miss you so much, but I got to go. I have to let jack know that he can come back into the room and then I have to go to sleep. So do you because its late over there. Happy anniversary love and we will celebrate when I get home.” He says, out of breath. Running a hand through his hair. You both say goodnight and hang up the call.

_________________________

You take a shower and get changed into some comfy pajamas about to get into bed when a knock sounds on the door. You open it to see one some of the girlfriends and wives. “Weren’t feeling good my ass. How was your little call with Nico?” one of them asks making you blush. now knowing that they were able to hear you from the apartment that they were hanging out in.

#nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier #hockey fluff #hockey smut #new jersey devils #nico hischier imagine

[cry4mina]

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism (Part 4)

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

Word Count: 8.5k Angst/Angst/Smut Summary: Reader finds out the truth behind what Jihyo and Nayeon has been up to, she takes the steps to become more independent and heal her grief, only to fall back into old habits. TW: Betrayal, suggestive themes, lying, break ups, cheating, manipulative behavior, anxiety, top!reader x Bottom!nayeon, choking, degradation, truthfully its rough sex but anyways, let me know if I missed anything! A/N: After a reasonable amount of requests I decided to continue the series. I also decided to write smut for the first time. Thank you to @saiiidahyunee @neoplatinum and @miinatozakiii for the help/advice for this part! <3 (srsly, this wouldn't have happened without them)

--

“Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?” 

Pulse radiating in every cell of your body, waiting to see if there’s another text from Jihyo. Absolutely baffled as the lie shatters your consciousness, returning you to the jagged spiral you were still reeling from.

It was true. She did this to you. 3 years of deception and it was all happening right under your nose. 

Knees buckling underneath you as you think back to the conversation you had in the kitchen the night prior. 

The tears she shed, the way she spoke…the way she studied your face… She was acting through the whole thing and you believed her. 

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way.”

 Stomach churning at the words previously said, fighting back the hatred growing in you. 

‘Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.” 

Nauseously fighting the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, remembering how your skin felt against hers as you slept next to her the night prior and you cringe knowing it was all fake and you had fallen for it. 

Nayeon’s phone vibrates in your hand again, revealing another text from the other responsible party. 

“We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you.”

As you stare at the screen, truth reflects back onto your face, flashing through your memories with her. Decorating the house on the holidays, her meeting your parents, anniversaries, going out to dinner; Even the small touches to show affection that intertwined themselves into everyday life hardened your exterior as you built your walls back up brick by brick wondering how long they’ll hold up with the digital reinforcement you’ve stumbled upon.   

The need for the truth pokes at your chest while opening the text thread between her and Jihyo. 

———————————Yesterday 11:34 pm——————————

Jihyo: Y/n didn’t seem to believe me when we spoke, I hope she listens to you or we might have a problem. 11:34pm

Nayeon: We might have a problem then 11:35pm

Nayeon: I don’t know if her and I will make it thru this 11:35pm

Jihyo: Do what u can. We will just have to cover our asses if the company finds out we are sleeping together. 11:37pm

Nayeon: It seems like she can’t really make a decision. I put her to bed a little while ago because she was exhausted. 11:38pm

Nayeon: She did bring me dinner last night… 11:38pm

Nayeon: She actually just came to the living room and def only in underwear…I’ll update u in the morning. 11:40pm

Jihyo: Just because she’s the piece that’s keeping the public and our company from finding out doesn’t mean I want to hear stuff like that, Nayeon. 11:42pm

———————————Today 8:12 am——————————

Jihyo: Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other? 8:12am

Jihyo: We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you. 8:14am

Forgetting to blink as you’re reading the thread, in disbelief that you almost gave them the forgiveness they asked for. Caught between the smoke and mirrors, an illusion painted for the public eye to cover the secret that only they knew. 

Screenshot clicks lightly as you send yourself the evidence and delete the pictures from the text thread as well as Nayeon’s phone. You wanted to be able to look back on this and remind yourself that she was responsible, and that you'd never give her another chance. 

Sliding her phone into your pocket, you walk into the bedroom. 

Nayeon is distracted in the bathroom preparing for your morning shower together. Hearing the door of the shower sliding open and the sound of the head sputtering to start. The clashing of the water hitting the tile mimics the storm you felt brewing up inside of you.  

As your rage builds you quickly grab a backpack out of the closet, unintentionally knocking a tote bag down as you pull the straps. Trinkets of all kinds scatter across the floor, you flinch at the sound and look down at the mess before immediately unzipping the bag.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Nayeon yells from the bathroom, it's muffled by the foam of her toothpaste as you hear her spit into the sink.

Body tensing at the pet name, knowing the illusion of the past 3 years was uncomfortable and devastating. 

“Yes. Just dropped something.” You shout back trying to hide the towering rage that is rocking against the winds of change your digital confirmation created. 

 “Okay, my love, I’ll be waiting for you in the shower.” She sings back trying to play cute with you. 

You roll your eyes while shoving the bag full of everything you’d need for the next few days as quickly as possible. Clothes, charger, wallet, important documents, and your laptop. 

Putting on the first pair of pants you see and not even bothering to change out of the oversized sweater you threw on to cover up while you had your morning coffee. 

Quietly running to the dresser to grab some socks, your foot kicks some of the mess left on the floor. Sighing at the annoyance of it being in your way but it slows down enough to see what the contents were. Jewelry you’d never seen, love notes opened with a wax seal, and countless pictures of Jihyo and Nayeon together. 

Frozen in fury as you take in what you’re unintentionally uncovering, a singular tear drenched in anguish falls - the tap on the photo echoing in your ears. Reaching your limit and the overflow of emotions are about to spill out of you in a slurry of misery and hatred.

Grabbing the specific Polaroid of them kissing, tucking it into your pocket with her phone and leaving everything else where it landed. Preparing for the confrontation, knowing she’ll probably try to cover it again. No more running from it and no more hiding from it, you had her cornered with the proof that she was a liar. 

Hopping onto the counter in the bathroom, you waited for Nayeon to realize you’re there. The shower door is slightly open, she left it for your entrance. Opening her eyes momentarily to see you staring back at her, much like most mornings. 

This morning was different though, after the fight you got into that spread out over a week and the information you got this morning; there was a thickness in the air that wasn’t just steam. Almost visible in how it intimately caressed your heart into a conflicted mess of emotions, waging wars inside your chest.  

 “Aren't you gonna join me? I’ve got a blank canvas for you if you’d like to make more art out of me.” She coyly says, winking at you.

 Your cringe is covered by the steam coated glass, repulsed by the thought of this stranger touching you the way she used to. The trust was no longer there. Being past anger, past sadness, and clinging to the numbness so you could get through this conversation. 

Trying to keep your brain on track when Nayeon steps out of the shower and walks towards you, seductively. A thin layer of sweat is starting to appear on your skin as she gets closer to you, you’re trying to talk yourself out of the thoughts of what would happen if you just showered with her and forgot what you found. 

You can’t do that to yourself, you know that. You would never knowingly accept less than you deserve but your heart was fighting you with every step she took towards you.

She puts her wet hands on your thighs, allowing the material to cling to your skin, “why are you wearing these? Just so I can take them off?” Her pupils are wide as she fixates on your face watching you half glare back at her.

 Swallowing as you try to keep yourself from shaking as the numbness wears off and turns to despair and then shifting erratically to pure anger and then back to despair again. The pattern is familiar, you’ve lived it before a few times. Trying your best to conceal the rapidly changing mood and keep a straight face.

 It seems to go unnoticed as she parts your jean clad legs and slides her waist between them wrapping her arms around your neck. Shivering at the warmth of her skin against yours as her fingers lace through the hair on the back of your head, trying to get you to cave into her wants. 

Your body is definitely reacting to her being this close to you the way it always did. The ache in your core screaming at the familiarity but your mind is repulsed. How many times had she done this with Jihyo? 

Not pulling away, allowing her to set herself up, the same way she let you. Leaning into your ear, lips brushing against its shell as she whispers “I’d love to take this off, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you really think you deserve it after what you’ve done?” sternly leaves your mouth. 

Clench her thighs as you speak, she loves when you talk to her that way. Not realizing that your voice is heavy with a different type of malice, not the usual light hearted mask you wear for her when she wants some roughness. 

 Hands come off your neck and slide under the sweater. She’s relieved you don’t have a bra on as she scratches harshly down your back, like she always did during sexually driven moments much like this one, in an attempt to rile you up more. 

It works for a moment, you groan and chase after her lips as she teasingly pulls away from you. Challenging your power and being a brat, refusing what you were asking for to intentionally make things more heated. Two can play that game.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.” Softly spoken while only an inch away from her face. Her half lidded eyes looking up at you for a moment. The sparkle for you is still encapsulated in her big brown eyes. 

Immediately listening, placing full trust in you. Removing her from between your legs, you guide her back and against the glass shower door. It rattles on impact as she leans against it, inciting a gasp from her. 

Her hands are up and out, waiting for whatever you had in store for her.  She’s smiling up at you, eyes closed, intrigued about what you’d place in her digits. 

Reaching into your pocket and pulling out her phone and the picture. Looking at them one more time before placing them directly into her hands, almost as an offering, like it’s your ticket out of this mess you unknowingly found yourself in. 

“You can open them now.” Tone leaving little to mystery as it sneers out of you. 

Her brows furrow as she realizes something isn’t right. Nayeon opens her eyes and looks down at what you’ve placed in her hands. Confusion waves across her face until she sees the image of her and Jihyo kissing, staring back at her. Hearing the gasp leave her lips, a deep gust of air is still not enough for Nayeon as she almost starts to panic.

You’re out of the room in seconds, her quickly following behind you, she grabs onto the sweater leaving a wet handprint that matches the ones on your thighs. 

 “Please, let me explain!” she begs frantically and tugs on the sweater harder to try and get your attention while you’re gathering more necessities for your daily routines. 

“Drop the act, Nayeon. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.” Your tone is growing more callous as time goes on. It roughens up the few soft spots she had even if it was entirely her fault you were going through this life changing event.

 Her face shifts from worried to annoyed as you sprint around the room, not bothering to organize anything being placed into the backpack.

“And where are you going to go, huh?” she asks, tilting her head and dropping her arms to her side heavily, allowing her frustration to show for a split second before she remembers she’s still completely naked and dripping wet from the shower on the rug in your bedroom.

Taking a step forward to get in her face, you startle her, not expecting you, soft gentle y/n, to approach her in such a way. Leaning back when you stepped forward but not breaking eye contact. You watch her leg start to bounce as she gets more anxious realizing you were angry in a way she had never seen, fire behind your eyes noticeable as you adjust your stance to show her you weren’t backing down and you were no longer scared to lose her. 

Movement feeling foreign to her as she’s unable to keep calm like the Nayeon you knew of. Backed into a corner and baring her teeth as you confront her about her wrong doings, is an attempt to control the situation and she was about to try an old tactic that had worked previous to this. 

Playing with the belt loops on your jeans, she brings her voice back to the sweet one you used to know,  “Are you just going to keep running away from me? Or can we talk this out? I thought we were okay. I thought we could get past this together” Retorting in a semi-cooled tone. Eyes watering again and the block of ice in your chest is trying to thaw in you as she leans in to put her satin lips on yours for a small second of contact before you avoid the affection, knowing you’d crumble at the act. Not allowing yourself to fall into her grasp again, knowing she was willing to hurt you in an incomprehensible way, and feel no guilt.  

“That was before I saw those texts and before I found the bag of secret Jihyo shit in the closet, Nayeon!” 

Looking down at the phone you handed her to read the message. The realization of what’s happening washes over her face, it couldn’t be played off as a misunderstanding anymore. She had been caught red handed and had to deal with the consequences. 

Nayeon leaned in harder to her act of fake innocence, insinuating that you were in fact the big bad for violating her trust like she wasn’t the one who burnt yours to crisps and used the ashes as eyeshadow.

“Why did you go through my phone?” She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts together. She’s trying to distract you with multiple tactics but it wasn’t working, her act faltering when scrutinized. . 

Extremely angry, your brain couldn’t see her as anything other than an enemy. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Our entire relationship was a false front for you and Jihyo and all you can do is try to flip it on me?! …Who made you like this?” harshly asking just trying to understand what she had to gain from hurting you in such a way. 

“You don’t trust me?” Nayeon says sweetly, touching your torso again. Pulling away roughly, unable to  believe it’s even a question she thought would be a good to say out loud, when you both knew what the answer was. 

 “You have been cheating on me for the entirety of our relationship and you have the audacity to ask if I trust you? Fuck you.I gave you the opportunity to be honest with me and you threw it right back in my fucking face, Nayeon!” laying into her, letting out every drop of anger she caused you through your teeth.

“3 years of what?! You completely ruined everything, our entire relationship was fake so you could fuck Jihyo without suspension! So absolutely not, I don’t trust you in any sense of the word.” voice starting to crack as you tear up, “and to think I was actually going to propose to you” letting the sadness of the future lost memories drain out of you onto the person who caused it all. 

Speechless and not believing that the docile person who was head over heels for her could have such venom to spit. A new light is shining down on you as you display your livid behavior. Oddly, even more attracted to you than she already was, she was in a trance as she realized what you said. 

“You were going to…propose?” Quietly said back to you. Her eyes are saddened as she starts to understand the weight of her choices and all the things that will never happen again between the two of you. The guilt cuts deep, creating a sharp sting in her chest as a heart string popped.  

Rolling your eyes and open the drawer in the kitchen that normally is reserved for “junk” to pull out a little black box, slamming it on the counter. “I really wanted to…” allowing yourself to be vulnerable for a moment as she reaches out to open the jewelry box and sees the perfect ring. 

The pear shaped diamond in the middle was huge, with little diamonds laid into a rose gold band. This is how she described her dream wedding ring to you on your 3rd date. You wrote it down in the notes of your phone for the moment you would need it, thinking she was the one. 

Eyes matching the diamonds, sparking with light as they fill with tears. She never thought about how much you paid attention or how well you knew her. Too wrapped up in playing her role with both you and Jihyo to even think that you were set on her being the one you wanted to spend your life with.  

“I need you to tell me how it started. I need to know why.” speaking cold heartedly, keeping the distance between the two of you. 

“...It did start with a drunken night. That was true. I never tho-” She started as she lowered her eyes. 

“Look at me when you’re talking.” deliberately call her out, rattling her a little bit, her face turns red, eye wide as she goes to speak again.

“I never thought that it would go this far with her. I really was genuinely upset when Jihyo told me what happened the first time. I didn’t remember anything at all and then she convinced me not to say anything and then we hung out a few days later and…it happened again but sober this time and it just never stopped. There was no emotion behind it for me, I swear. I love you, not her.” 

A freight train crashes through you as you reel at the information hitting your ears. 

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to claim you love me when you’ve been living in a black light paradise with someone else this entire time.” hissing dispassionately to assert your words.

“But two things can be true at once, like you always say…” throwing back at you with a smirk knowing how much your own rhetoric being used on you makes you angry. 

Aggressively grabbing your backpack again and heading towards the door again, once intimidating, now a way to safety as you jerk it open, feening for escape from the heavy atmosphere. Your steps are quick and precise as you make your exit. 

 “I made a mistake, y/n. She’s not you. She will never be you.” Almost shouted at you as one foot stepped over the threshold. 

 “You were the mistake and I hope your guilt drowns you.” 

– 

An anchor pulls your heart to the bottom of the ocean. You told Nayeon to drown but it was you who couldn’t swim. Pulling harshly at your arteries as you sludge towards your car, feeling as if you’re moving in slow motion just trying to escape the shark infested waters.

Remembering this same feeling from before, but this one was much more certain. With the evidence in front of you, the admission from both parties, and the way Nayeon spoke to you- there was no more safety in who she portrayed herself to be. The illusion has smashed into shards of false love, leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You drive to Momo’s house, not bothering to call before showing up, you don’t think you could speak anymore, your jaw is tense the entire way there to hold everything in. 

Walking up to the door and hitting the door bell, the dogs bark to alert their owners. The locks click open and the door cracks open to reveal a surprised Momo. 

“Y/n, what are you do-“ cutting her off as you collapse into her arms. You kept it together long enough to get to your best friend, but now the dam was broken and unable to contain the pure pain that was born from the cruelness Nayeon showed you.

Momo drags you into the house and sits you on the same couch you slept on days before, sitting next to you and trying to comfort you as you shake and sob, wrapping your arms around yourself trying to create a sense of safety for yourself that couldn’t be torn from you.

“Y/N, what happened?” Momo is so concerned with your inability to calm down, it’s starting to make her upset. 

Dahyun walks into the room, hearing the commotion. The loudness of your sobs ringing in her ears with her heart sinking into her stomach as she sits on the other side of you, joining Momo’s effort to comfort you. 

Shakily breathing as you try to regulate yourself yet again, this time it feels harder than the last because at least last time there was hope. You are only experiencing extreme sadness and betrayal, with a lot of anger mixed in it but there was no hope present.   

Unaware of how long you’ve been crying as Dahyun gets up “I’ll go make up the guest bedroom.” Rubbing your back as she walks past you. 

“Thank you,” you squeak out through your teeth, struggling to calm down. 

Momo has a look on her face that could cut diamonds. Anger radiating off her cheeks as she grabs her phone, taps it a few times and brings it to her ear quickly, she stands and taps her foot waiting for the other person to answer.  

Nayeon is heard on the other side, “is she with you?” 

Momo’s face is repulsed by this considering the state of you in front of her but she answers the question anyway,

 “Yes, what happened? She’s obviously not okay. Tell me what happened.” Momo’s arms are crossed, standing up she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. 

“I don’t know, she just got upset and left”

“Nayeon, I have known you for years.You’re lying. Y/N wouldn’t just show up sobbing uncontrollably for no reason, so tell me what happened or I'm hanging up.” talking with her hands, raising them in a frustrated manner as the lies keep coming.

“Well if she didn’t want to hurt herself she should have gone through my phone.” annoyance present in Nayeon’s tone.

Momo looks over at you, devastated for the second time on her couch pulling your phone out in silence and showing her the text thread screenshots you had taken earlier.

“It’s not as big of a deal as it’s being made out to be.”

“Are you serious right now?” Momo harshly questions as Nayeon continues. 

“Are you going to question Jihyo like you questioned me? Or are we just gonna pretend like she’s not part of this too?” 

The sharpness in her tone was something you had witnessed before but the taste of her name coming out of Nayeon’s mouth was unbearable.

Momo gasps at the new knowledge that has now been thrown at her. Completely statuesque, as she tries to wrap her mind around what Nayeon just said.

 Momo’s eyes look up on your screen to reveal the name at the top of the text thread: Jihyo  

The rush of emotions she was experiencing was overwhelming to her senses, momo’s voice choked with tears as she spoke to Nayeon.

“Wait…what did you just say? J is Jihyo?!” Momo says in complete disbelief, shocked at not only what she’s reading on the screen but by what she was hearing from one of the parties involved.

“Yes. So please call and interrogate her. Can I speak with my girlfriend now?”

“No, you can’t. I am not friends with people who do this type of thing, Nayeon. How could you do this to y/n?” she shouts through the phone, hunched over with a hand on her knee, trying to understand all the pieces of this complicated puzzle.    

Momo, trying to keep the anger she felt under wraps, started pacing in the room taking laps around the couch as she spoke. 

“Nayeon…are you kidding me? How long has this been going on?” Confused was an understatement, Momo was completely overstimulated with the information she was being given. 

 Never noticing the connection between how close Jihyo and Nayeon were, always sharing hotel rooms on tour, finishing each other’s sentences, the looks across the room, Nayeon staying at Jihyo’s house frequently…it was all starting to add up and Momo is seeing red over the pain of her best friend being hurt beyond belief, and by someone who was supposed to be her family. She was just as angry as you were. 

“Momo, I don’t want to do this right now, Can I please speak to Y/n? I’m trying to save my relationship and not be put under a microscope by you.” 

“I can’t believe you would do this. You spoke of Y/n like she moved mountains for you and this is what you’ve been doing behind her back? I’m disgusted with you and your actions…and I’m pretty sure she’s your ex-girlfriend now but you knew that already, didn’t you?” 

Momo hung up quickly, not caring about what Nayeon had to say back to her. More worried about you and your emotional state than anything Nayeon had to say.

 “Did she tell you why or was it her avoiding the question?” inquiring as she took a seat next to you, giving an apologetic look and a bear hug to try to make you feel better. 

“She told me enough for me to want to leave my home, technically she didn’t even tell me, I found a secret bag of Jihyo stuff in our closet with a bunch of pictures of them together, and one shot of them kissing, wax sealed love letters and jewelry.” Voice cracking and shaking as you bite back more emotion. 

Momo gasps as the story unfolds before her, she can’t believe what she’s hearing. It is so polar opposite of what she expected of her members. She always thought they were kind and loving. She imagines what y/n might be feeling in all of this. 

“I am so sorry. Please let me know how I can help you get through this.” reaching for you to pull you into a warm embrace. 

“Well, I’m definitely going to need to find a new apartment so if you want to help me with that I’d be grateful.” half chuckling through some tears, trying to add a little light into the situation. You hated the idea of someone else being upset because of this situation.

“Consider it done” Dahyun walked back in with swollen eyes, sniffling. She probably overheard the argument Momo just had and was reflecting the same amount of empathy as Momo was. 

“We can start tomorrow!”

—

About 3 weeks went by and you were slowly showing signs of your old self. You were going out with friends again, hanging out with Momo a lot, and starting to become present again, no longer constantly seeing the rewind of Nayeon’s innocence faltering behind your eyes. Still receiving texts from Nayeon at least 2 times a day. They served as a reminder of what once was. 

Momo and Dahyun were patient with you, letting you speak with them about the effects this trauma was having on your mental health. It’s always hard to watch your loved ones go through something this difficult but it was obvious that they were proud of how you were handling it, even if it was hard. They were always there to remind you that you could do hard things. 

Finding a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom that was close to Momo and Dahyun’s, signing the lease immediately. It was a slight upgrade to the studio that you and Nayeon occupied previously. The kitchen was bigger, the natural light was brighter, and the bathroom had a large bathtub that you could fully lay down in, which you were looking forward to. 

Spending a week finding the perfect furniture for it, designing the interior however you wanted and making it your own space without someone else’s opinion in the back of your mind was fun. You enjoyed doing this for yourself, fixating on something that had to do with you alone. You felt the ashes from previous ruin sprouting stems as you tried to move on.

You had really been focusing on yourself, trying to resurrect yourself after total devastation. Pulling out the roots, and planting good ones so later on you could reap the benefits. Changing the perspective of your brain was hard, but well worth it.

Being in a better place mentally and emotionally as your sense of stability was so close to being present again, you thought it was time that you continue with the last step of separating from Nayeon.

There was still some stuff you wanted to get back at your old apartment but you didn’t want to run the risk of Nayeon being there. You had no desire to face her, especially while you were still mending. You decided to reach out to her to let her know you’d be coming by to get the rest of your things. 

“Hey, I’m going to stop by today to get my stuff. I’d really like it if you weren’t there.“ You hesitate to hit send, not wanting to come off in a rude way. Quickly realizing how absurd that was and hit send. 

 “So now you reply? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks… are you doing okay?” almost immediately after the message was delivered, like she has been staring at the thread waiting for you to say something. 

“That’s not your concern anymore. What is your schedule like this week? I won’t be long. I’d just like my things, thank you.” you replied with haste, just wanting this to be over. 

“I’ve got something scheduled at 5 today. You can come then if you really don’t want to see me.” 

You can hear the pout over the text message without any hint of it present in the text. This instinctually sparks sadness in you. Biting the inside of your lip and type out a few replies before deciding to just drop it. A wave of the past just flashed in front of you, causing you to fall into loneliness, something you’d fought to keep at bay. 

Checking the clock and it’s already 3pm, you finish up what you’re doing in the living room and take a cold shower before setting out to the apartment one last time.

–

Stepping into the once familiar place, you are hit with the smell of vanilla and sandalwood. “That’s odd” thinking to yourself, wondering if she’s left a candle burning as you walk in, sliding your shoes off by the door. She always forgot to blow them out after lighting them or would fall asleep on the couch with one lit. 

You were right, but with an added twist, the candle was burning in the center of the coffee table flickering against the shadows in the room around you. The flame was blocked out by the shadow of someone on the couch in the dimly lit space. 

“I thought you had schedules.” sighing, irritate at being met with another moment of dishonesty.

“I just needed to talk to you…” she whispers, she had been crying. Hearing it in her voice and seeing it on her face as she turned her back to the candle, taking in your features like it was the first time she’d ever seen you. A  tinge of hope runs through her, your face must be showing sympathy.               

“I needed you to be faithful and that was too much for you so I don’t really want to do any conversing with you.” asserting that you’re completely vexed by her as you walk into the bedroom to gather the rest of the stuff you were taking with you. 

Following you closely, a habit you used to think was cute as she watches you pick up small knick knacks from your childhood, clothes, and some other important tokens left behind. Sorting through every drawer to make sure you got everything, wanting this to be the last time you’re in the once shared life.    

Almosting touching you with how close her proximity was, she wondered if you’d give her some of your time so she could plead for you to stay when you finally spoke up. 

“Can you stop hovering so I can do what I need to and leave?” 

“Can you just talk to me for a second?” Nayeon replied equally annoyed and choked up as she watched you tuck all she had left of you away. 

Turning around to face her, “Fine! What do you want?” 

You’ve never shown her such apathy, the emptiness that rings in your voice hollows her chest out as she takes a few steps forward, you are surprised by the sudden closeness when she leans in and kisses you roughly. 

You gasp which leaves an opening for her to slide her tongue into your mouth, the neediness pouring out of her drenches you with adrenaline and you slowly succumb to her as she bites your lower lip and tugs gently. The world stops.

Every ounce of love you ever felt for this person came slithering back into your mind for a split second, followed by anger as you remind yourself of the betrayal. 

You can’t believe she’s just throwing herself at you. Body reacting exactly how you would expect when your recent ex partner kisses you like this, the familiarity of her hands on your body sends jolts of comfort and excitement through you and you aren't strong enough to fight the primal urge. 

Trailing her hand up your back under your sweater while keeping you distracted with her mouth and sinking her nails into your shoulders, dragging them slowly down your back, causing you to lean into the kiss even more, moaning into her mouth as she smiles. 

Falling into the trap she was setting and you knew it. 

Hands slowly find their place on her waist, she kisses your jaw whispering sweet nothings into your skin. 

“Baby, please stay” she lays another kiss farther down your jaw

“I know you missed this” laying another kiss

“You are always so hungry for me…show me”

She ghosts her lips up and returns to yours as she kisses you passionately, revealing pure lust as she grips onto you. Bringing your hands up to cup her face, allowing yourself to get lost in the breathy haze, heart pounding as you feel your body temperature rise, effects of the love that once was and the lust that now is. 

Spiraling in the dizzying moment,you and Nayeon sink into each other, closeness returning as you’re swept away by the intense feelings you’re both harboring. Hands are exploring as you fumble around, not allowing space between you as you both collapse onto the bed, hungirly taking each other in as you gain control, Nayeon is lost in the essence of you and it was your turn to hold the power.  

In addition to getting on top of her, you place your knee between her legs- just enough out of reach so that she couldn’t get a good position on it. You were going to give her this moment to remember and you were going to make her earn it.

The heat emanates off her as you rip off your sweater tossing it aside. She’s looking up at you like you put the moon in the sky as you reach your arm around and unhook your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms slowly, her eyes wide with anticipation as you remove it, throwing it on top of the sweater. 

Nayeon’s hands reach up, eyes darkened as she tries to touch you when you slam her hands back down into the softness of the sheets, pinning her to the mattress forcefully above her head, glaring into her with white hot anger.  

“No,” as you hold her in place, your body pressed against hers, faces close enough to feel each other's quickened breath. Nayeon sees the flash of spite in your eyes as you press your mouth on hers, it makes her ache while she is refracting desperation, subtly grinding on your thigh as she lets your tongue dance with hers.

Pulling back from the kiss to admire the sight before you; Nayeon is anchored to the bed by your hands, whimpering and grinding on your leg practically begging for you to fuck her. 

Faces return close enough for your lips to lightly graze, teasing her as you remind her where you stand, “Tell me… does Jihyo excite you like this or is this only for me?” with a sultry nuance. She squirms underneath you as you taunt her, her eyes flickering down to your thigh as she tries to grind into you to get some friction to satiate the ache you’re creating within her, only for you to pull your knee back just enough so she can’t reach it. 

 She whines “y/n…please, it’s only yo-” getting up before getting the full answer and dragging her legs to the edge of the bed letting them bend over the edge, pulling her shirt off frantically, exposing her tits. 

 The knot in her stomach tightens as she watches you become completely carnal, continuing toying with her. Lightly tracing her chest with your finger before you kissed her again, this time more aggressively as if you are claiming what had been yours. She groaned into it, always loving when you got like this, you’re ghosting your finger along the waistband of her sweats as you pull back from the kiss again and attacking her neck leaving a trail of dark marks down to her chest. 

“She’ll have to admire my artwork for the next week and I hope she enjoys it” leaving bite marks and bruises as you descend down slowly.

You take one of her nipples into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, you can hear her breathing hitch as you roughly pinch the other one. Without letting go of her bud between your fingers you detach your mouth and slide your other hand up to Nayeon’s throat, lightly squeeze and ask “Does Jihyo fuck you like the slut you are? Or does she leave you for me to ruin?” 

Nayeon let out a wail as the words cascaded off your tongue, completely bewildered at what is happening right now as she feels the intoxication of your agitated demeanor wash over her while she grows impatient. Pushing back and trying to take the power from you when you mimic your prior movements and slam her down on the bed, letting her know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Don't. Move.” Stoically said while standing up, sliding her pants and underwear off to reveal a string of arousal clinging to the fabric and the soaked mess that she was. She was already clenching around nothing. 

“Pathetic.” You smirk. 

“Does she ever make you this wet?” as you part her lips with one hand, gathering her arousal at her entrance with your finger, and slowly bring it up to your mouth, sucking it clean. She rolls her hips up at the sensation, body screaming for more. 

“I told you not to move.”

Nayeon whines loudly, “Please, Y/n…touch me” begging for some continuous form of contact and being sure not to move while your stand above her watching as tears well up in her eyes. 

“...so needy… does she make you beg for it like this?” the words daunting as they snake out. 

“You’re so good at lying, I’m sure she thinks you belong to her.” 

“What was it that you said earlier?” following up slyly while lowering yourself between her legs, knees on the floor and arms are wrapped around her thighs, with hands planted on her hips keeping them in place. 

“You’re always so hungry for me…” breathing out as you traces patterns on her lower stomach and bring your face closer to her pussy, 

“…show me” she sighs out as you dive down into her folds, moaning intensely as you tangle yourself between her legs. She feels you devouring her sloppily, not leaving a single place unexplored as she tries to buck her hips into your mouth.

Nayeon is seeing stars as past experiences flood back into memory, senses heightened as you consume her more possessively than usual. She loves this version of you. 

Hands holding onto her so tightly as you start sucking on her clit, she squirms under your grip, squealing at the erratic pattern traced with the tip of your tongue before giving her the rhythm she craved so desperately. 

Nayeon’s breathing gets heavier as you stick to the pace you know she likes, building her up to where you wanted her. The moaning gets louder as you continue lapping at her, hands go up to your hair, locking you in place as you bring her as close to the edge as possible. 

Hearing her high pitched whines and feeling her pussy clench around nothing, completely stopping everything that you are doing.  

“Wha?!-..” she let out a groan that could’ve shattered windows as you stood before her, watching her react to the orgasm being ruined. 

“Why would you do that?!” she groaned out, squeezing her legs together again. You lightly smack her thigh, telling her without words not to. The slap radiates through the room and leaves a small red hand print displayed. 

Enjoying the blissful anguish on her face as you licked the evidence right off your mouth while removing your pants and underwear. Getting on the bed, straddling her, wetness visible as it drips off of you, she looked up at you with wanting eyes, hips still rutting, and knowing exactly where this was going.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily?” you start scooting up so that your knees are on either side of her head, a mere inch from her face.

“You’ll have to earn it.” Leaning forward and head between your legs, tongue out already anticipating the taste of you. 

A gasp echoes in your chest as she licks the inside of your thighs, making sure not to waste a drop of you before taking one big slow lick up your slit, doing that several times, causing you to thrust into her more before attaching her lips to your clit and finding the rhythm she knew you wanted. 

Drowning in her all over again as you feel the knot in your stomach stir, you need more from her but she wasn’t going to give you that right away.

“Naye- ..fuck, just like that -on” you whine her name, slowly start to fuck her face. 

“More.”  Demanding breathlessly, feeling your release building throughout your body, muscles tightening as she shakes her head no, trying not to remove her mouth from you.

“Nay-“  a guttural moan stops you mid sentence, knowing what she wanted from you. 

“Baby…please, I need you” pleasure all consuming, you’re aching for her inside of you.

Before you can ask again, a long finger slides into your core and starts pumping forward to hit your g-spot a few times before adding another finger. 

Another loud moan, as you steadily rock your hips against her mouth, building on the list you were already feeling. Close to breaking, you feel one of her hands slide up to your chest and start tugging on your nipple, that’s what sends you over the edge. 

Throwing your head back as your breath quickens, grinding against her face, with a death grip on her hair. Shaking on top of her as your orgasm rips through you, she keeps going, letting you ride it out. 

“Good girl,” you say breathly as you scoot back to straddle her hips again, body feeling like static as you come down. 

Catching your breath while looking at her cum covered face, you know you aren’t finished with her just yet. Leaning up to you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. Tasting yourself on her as you pull her arms off of you.

“I missed the way you taste.” she cooed as you stood up again, half wobbling as you were still recovering. 

“Didn’t I say not to move?” sternly rolls off your tongue, her eyes widen as you push her back down roughly and spit directly onto her pussy. Not that you needed the extra lube, you spread it around her entrance before slamming 2 fingers into her.

“Fuck, Y/n…” she moans as you pump your fingers quickly into her, feeling how wet she is from the orgasm you stole. She thrusts harshly, forcing your digits deeper into her.

“You don’t cum until I say you can.” growled at her from between her legs - peering up to see her face, eyes clamped shut as she leaked out onto the sheets - impatiently waiting for you to stimulate her in some way. 

You can’t help but torture her a little. 

“Does Jihyo make you wet like this? Or is she a shit replacement fuck when I’m not around”

She doesn’t even hear what you’re saying while she’s writhing underneath you, completely fucked out and trying to focus on not cumming while you’re toying with her. Your mouth finds its way to her clit causing a frantic moan to rip through her chest, hands pulling at the sheets as she holds everything back.

“Ca- can I cum please?” She screeches between moans, nodding your head back to her while keeping the same circular motions going with your tongue on her clit, picking up the pace of the fingers inside her as she screams out - back arching, body tense, and clenching down on your fingers as she cums, gushing all over your hand. 

Trying to take a breath, she squeals because you never stop fucking her at a relentless pace; she’s immediately back to moaning your name. 

“Baby, What are yo-” words cut off as she loudly moans, giving her a second to try and finish the sentence. 

“Use your words” as you pick up the pace even more, holding her down onto the mattress with your left hand on her hip, pounding your fingers into her. 

Unable to speak coherently, almost screaming as she tries to formulate sentences. 

“You wanted to cum so bad, so give me another one.” Answering the question she couldn’t ask while snapping into her g-spot, bending down to put your lips on hers again, giving her a taste of herself as she moans into your mouth, unable to hold back from the feeling of being over-stimulated. 

She feels the tension inside her forming again, threatening to burst at any moment when you lean over to ghost your lips over her ear. 

“I bet Jihyo doesn’t make you cum like this.” Violent combustion dispels from her body as she tenses underneath you, screaming into your mouth and sinking her claws into your back while riding out her orgasm.

Both of you lay on the bed, attempting to catch your breath. She rolls over to you, and tries to curl up in your arms but you get up before she can get too comfortable.

“Baby, where are you going? Sleepily stated while staying on the bed.  

Silence as you put your underwear back on.

“Hello?” 

Silence as you slide your pants on 

“…are you leaving?” She says in a sad tone, leaning up on her elbows, watching you put your shirt on and gather all the stuff you came to get. 

“Yup.” 

She is in complete disbelief as you walk out of the bedroom door, hearing you put your shoes on in the kitchen and then hearing the door open. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?…what is that on your neck?” heard from the kitchen. Nayeon’s eyes widen as she realizes the time and the plans she made…with Jihyo. 

“I don’t really think she will be much use to you tonight but you’re more than welcome to try.” You say condescendingly to Jihyo as she stares at you about to walk out. 

“Oh, by the way” , turning your head to her as you open the door.

“I hope you like the way I taste. Enjoy.” smiling at her as you walk right out of the apartment. She stares at the front door in disbelief as she’s figuring out her next move, now in a similar position to where you were.

“Nayeon!” screamed loud enough for you to hear while you’re walking toward the elevator. Not even being able to help the smirk across your face knowing she’s about to get an earful. Laughing to yourself as you call the elevator.

-

Starting the ride home, you think about exactly what just happened. Unable to believe you allowed yourself to fuck Nayeon and act like that towards Jihyo. Thinking about it not with regret, but with a blend of malice and sadness. They were both important to you, previously but that’s reality anymore.

Looking into the rearview mirror at the complex behind you, almost a far-well glance for you as your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Pulling it out to see Jihyo’s name across the top and hit the end button, sending her straight to voicemail. She calls again, same response. The third time your phone vibrates, you answer it 

“Can you stop calling me? I obviously don't want to talk to you.” sounding heavily annoyed. 

“…Y/n?” A familiar softness rings on the other line as you look at the phone number that isn’t saved.

“Oh…uhm, sorry…I thought this was Jihyo. I don’t have this number saved in my phone…”

“That’s alright” a small chuckle follows, “It’s Mina.”

"Mina?"

---

Take me Back to Eden - The Summoning - Part 5

#twice nayeon #twice smut #twice imagines #twice x reader #nayeon x fem!reader #nayeon x reader #im nayeon #wlw #kpop x reader #twice fic #twice angst