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rayaswrittings · 6 months

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I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.

After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

#sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #sam golbach smut #sam golbach fanfic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby x reader #Colby x reader smut #colby brock x reader #youtuber #smut #best friends #friend to lovers

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disneyprincemuke · 3 months

Text

of drunk regrets * fem!driver

the morning after vegas

what does one do when you have no recollection of getting married?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver

notes: hi late update and that’s because i was crocheting the entire day lol

(series masterlist)

she hums turning around, her arm landing on something solid instead of a soft pillow. she opens an eye, flinching back when her eyes land on someone’s clothed back, then groans when nausea slowly hits her.

“who the fuck is this?”

the person next to her hums. they left their head before dropping it back into the pillow. “mm.”

she looks around to the best of her ability, snorting when she realises that amidst all her drunken antics from the night before, they didn’t even end up on the bed. they’re sleeping on the carpeted floor of her hotel room.

she lifts her head, ignoring the nausea hitting her all at once. the bed is empty.

a hand comes up to nurse her head, looking down at the body lying next to her with the blanket draped over their shoulder loosely. she brought somebody back to her hotel room with her? now that’s just a tabloid rumour waiting to blow up in her face when she opens up her phone.

she leans forward, wobbling slightly, as she tries to get a glimpse of their face. her eyes widen, landing a smack on their shoulder with some force. "what the hell are you doing here?"

"don't hit me, i'm trying to sleep."

"mick! you're in my hotel room!"

"what?" blue eyes are exposed to the dim lights of the room, disappearing once more when mick shuts his eyes. "what am i doing here?"

"how would i know?" she sighs, slowly lying back down on the ground. "i don't remember anything."

"we didn't do anything... did we?"

she looks down at herself, surprisingly dressed in her pyjamas without any recollection of even making it back into her hotel room in the first place. "i hope not."

"you hope?" mick cries, shaking his head in dismay. "this is not good."

"give me a second. i need to think," she sighs, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "start thinking. do you remember anything from last night?"

mick also sighs, simply shaking his head. he pulls the blanket over his body and snuggles back into his pillow. "no, but wake me up when you've figured it out. i'm really hungover right now, mate."

"really? you don't think i am?"

"i'm sure you are, but– what the hell is this on my finger? when did i get a mood ring?"

"you have a mood ring?" there's a momentary pause. "oh, look. i've got one too. when did i–"

they both sit up hurriedly, hissing in pain as they point at each other with a loud gasp. "no! are you serious? did we really do that? when did we even have the time to do that?"

mick cries. "my mother is going to kill me."

"mine will kill me – i'm barely 21, mick!"

"i'm going to american jail! you're not even legal here!" he rubs his eyes. “i don’t wanna go to jail here!”

she scrambles around for her phone, eyes widening at her notifications.

SUPERMAX you and mick???

RATSELL what's ur ig post about m8?

LOWGAN when u wake up, there's a cup of water and an advil on the bedside for u also, check ur instagram

PASTRY you did the funniest thing last night.

LILLIES thanks for the free pizza wish i could've been there for the actual ceremony though? it's ok, maybe at your next wedding

ALBONO please tell me you didn't

LAW SON i think u may have sent logan over the edge cuz wtf is bro doing in my hotel room ranting to charlotte and i at 5am

MICKEY ur asleep rn i can't sleep when do u think we should renew our vows??? oh no we got married!??!??!

BLYTHE mate u got married without me in attendance??? not saying i'm offended but like seriously?

THE BETTER SARGEANT who u married to? if it's logan istg omg is it mick? i saw ur instagram

LANCE

congrats!!!

if i’d known sooner, i’d have bought you a wedding gift before landing in vegas

i’ll get one before the last race i promise

SEBASTIAN ur very funny, do u know that? text me when ur up, we should talk

MUMMY wowww let me know what wedding gift to get you you grow up so fast, my love

PAPA what is all this ruckus i'm hearing between mum and blythe about you getting married? call me.

KRISTEN (PR) team meeting asap. bring the schumacher.

she glances at mick. "my dad's going to kill you."

mick turns to her, shoulders slumped with his eyes widened in panic. "i really really hope my mother gets to me first." he shakes his head and pats around the ground for his phone. "you know what? i'll just tell her myself."

“don’t bother,” she scoffs, lying back down in the pillow sprawled on the floor. “i vividly remember you calling gina when we were getting pizza that you married me in vegas.”

kristen chews on the inside of her cheek, scanning the group around her. "what is this? i only told you to bring mick."

the girl takes off the sunglasses on her face and sighs. "you think i didn't try telling them off? is this your first time meeting these losers? i– listen, i'm too hungover to tell them off, kristen."

"please let us stay?" max smiles, batting his eyelashes at the older woman. "i promise we'll be quiet. i'm just curious over the events of last night."

"so am i," kristen points out in a soft voice, moving her eyes over the pair seated on the couch on the other side of her table. at that point, they are the least of her concerns. "do you know the pr nightmare you just caused over a couple of drinks? do you have any idea the reckless thing you just did?"

"please don't shout," she says softly, eyes closing. "it was stupid, we know. in my defense–"

"they shouldn't have even let us in the chapel in the first place in that state," mick sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “so technically, whose fault is it, really?”

“both of yours for even coming up with the stupid idea in the first place!” logan screams, pointing at them in frustration. “you made a bad decision!”

kristen glances at logan, shooting him a side eye for disrupting her meeting. when logan shrugs, she simply looks back at the married pair her seats. “you’re not even 21! you did this in america too! god!”

“and they shouldn’t have permitted it knowing that i wasn’t 21!” the young girl shrieks, immediately defending herself. this is a hill she is willing to die on. “let’s focus more on the fact that they let two drunk idiots get married instead of the fact that i thought of it.”

“you came up with that idea?” max throws his head back, hissing softly as he shook his head. “why am i not surprised?”

“right? you have to tell her how stupid she is for this,” logan rambles in frustration. “seriously! you couldn’t go one year without making a stupid decision?

she rolls her eyes, glancing at mick from the side of her eyes. he flashes her an apologetic grin and she shrugs with another eye roll in response.

“i mean, you’re an adult. you can do whatever you want, but do you know how legally exhausting the entire process will be from here on out?” max continues, throwing his arms in the air. “knowing you, you won’t like it! there’s a lot of papers to sign!”

“and paper work to read!” logan adds on. “seriously!”

“god, (y/n), how could you be so stu–“

“i came up with the idea,” mick speaks out, turning to max and logan with a small smile. “it’s not her fault, you guys. come on. lay off her a little bit.”

she shoots him a questioning stare. “no, wait–“

mick laughs. “the deal at the pizza place just looked so good. i’m not excusing it because we were drunk, but cut us some slack.”

sebastian, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, finally stands up. he folds his arms over his chest. “it doesn’t matter who came up with the crazy idea to get married in vegas.”

“you’re still not mad?” logan raises an eyebrow. “there’s got to be some part of you that is.”

“how about let me conduct my meeting with my driver in peace? unless you want to take over my job of being her pr officer…” kristen speaks out, looking around the room to shut down any more forms of interruption. she looks back at her. “let me see the marriage certificate.”

“the what?”

“you signed one, didn’t you?“

she scrunches her nose and looks at mick. “did we sign one? i really can’t remember.”

“i don’t,” mick cuts himself off, looking just as clueless, “i literally blacked out last night. i don’t remember anything.”

sebastian beams, standing a little straighter. “i have it right here! look at it, kristen.”

he puts down a piece of paper on the table. the entire room watches the woman read over the paper, lips pressed together.

a small laugh bubbles from her, grabbing the certificate into her hands and bringing it closer to her face. her laugh gets a little louder, sebastian eventually joining her with a hand over his mouth.

“what is so funny?” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “all i can think about is the shopping spree i can’t have this month over the lawyer fees.”

“and the fact that i could end up in american jail for marrying a 20-year-old!”

kristen grins, slamming the certificate down onto the table. “it’s illegitimate.”

“what?”

“oh?”

“surprising turn of events!”

“illegitimate?”

a hand slams into the table, the youngest in the room jumping to her feet. “illegitimate? what about my free pizza? how is that illegitimate? i’m not a schumacher anymore?”

“you changed your name?” oscar pipes up, roaring in laughter, covering his face. this entire ordeal has been very amusing to him.

she turns around sheepishly with a small smile. “i was planning to. how cool would it be to be a schumacher?”

“what the fuck?” logan says to her, bewildered at the thought process. “you’re not married and you’re telling me that’s the only thing you’re concerned about? not being a schumacher in the eye of the law?”

mick giggles, looking up at her with an impressed expression. “schumacher does go along well with your name.”

“i know. should we get married for realsies after this weekend and legally change my name?”

“have you learned nothing from this?” kristen throws her hands into the air. she leans back into her seat, letting out the heaviest sigh of relief as she no longer has to engage with any legal teams. pr wise, it would be easy.

she shrugs, sitting back down into the cushioned seat. “don’t get drunk with mick in vegas.”

“first and last time i’m drinking that much with you,” mick adds on with a snort. though, there’s a small smile playing on his face as he looks at her.

they both know that won’t be the last time they’ll be sending their pr officers into a frenzy. they’re truly a force to be reckoned with.

and, it could have been worse.

“i paid for all the pizzas you ate and threw up last night,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “you owe me like $100.”

she nods. “okay, i’ll pay you. still no shopping spree for me this month, i guess.”

mick clicks his tongue, giving her a thumbs up. “i’ll pay him. consider it my wedding gift to you, wife.”

“she’s not your wife,” logan points out with an eye roll. “didn’t even get married in the first place, remember? illegitimate. not even a real certificate. never happened. literally no record of it.”

“i’m curious,” max furrows his eyebrows and lips pouted out. “how did you pull this off to make it seem real, seb?”

“i arrived to their ‘wedding’–“

“not real!”

“logan, cut it out.”

“–before them. i spoke to the receptionist before they arrived; they don’t let drunk people get married. i convinced her to give them the slot anyway just to teach these two a lesson.”

“impressive?” kristen smiles. “you just saved me a lot of paper work.”

“and mick the beating he’d get from her dad if it actually ever happened to go through.”

she smiles, leaning over the arm rest to whisper at mick. she taps him on the shoulder. “we should celebrate with ice cream.”

— bonus

they flood out of the office collectively, the young girl looking down at the mood ring around her ring finger. “we should keep the rings, shouldn’t we, mick? keepsake.”

“to remind you of your bad decision making?” logan questions.

“no, to piss you off.” she turns around and shoves him back gently. “of course, just to keep memory of the one time i was almost a schumacher!”

sebastian tilts his head. “you know you’ll still be you, right? even if you’re legally considered a schumacher? you won’t get his blue eyes.”

“i could,” she hums with a smile. “so, husband. watching the race from my garage tonight like a factory manufactured wag?”

“can’t, wife,” mick sighs. “i work for mercedes.”

“i could get you the second seat if you wanted.”

“you have the power to do that?” she nods. “that’s hot.”

“cut it out, you guys are making max uncomfortable!” oscar grunts, pushing the pair apart.

beside them, max has his fingers plugged into his ears and is humming softly to himself. “it’s not real, it’s not real. they’re not actually married,” he whispers to himself. “and it will never happen.”

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#sebastian vettel x reader #logan sargeant x reader #max verstappen x reader #oscar piastri x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 female driver #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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luveline · 4 months

Note

Could I request stripper reader and post prison Spencer being all domestic? I just think Spencer deserved to have someone take care of him after that

thank you for requesting! ♡ fem

cw spencer makes a weight related joke about reader but he is one hundred percent kidding/is talking about carrying the reader and not her actual body weight, pls don't read if it will upset you

“How's it feel now?” you ask.

Spencer glances down at you from the TV. If he had his way since being released from prison, you would spend the majority of time in his lap, and the TV would not be on, but you're trying not to smother him and he's content to let you do what you want, so long as you're in arm's reach.

“How does what feel?” he asks, frowning.

“Your leg? You know, the one you stabbed yourself in?”

“Fine. Surface wound. Hey, are you almost done?”

“No. I'm making you a mug cosy.”

“Could you not come up here and make me cosy?”

You put your little crochet hook and yarn ball on the floor near the paper pattern you're following. “That's way too cheesy a thing to say for a felon.” You grin at him. “Good for you, I'm awful at this,” —you climb onto your knees, arms out to him as he grabs you and pulls you onto the couch— “and I don't want to do it anymore.”

“Then don't.” He smiles as you settle against him, half on top of him, your pyjamas soft against his bare arms and legs. “I'm not a felon.”

“I'm kidding,” you say gently.

He puts his hand against the top of your head and forces you backwards a touch to meet his eyes. “I know.”

You glare at him. He decides he'd like to play too and glares back.

“Crochet is very difficult.”

Spencer lets you drop back into his chest. “You're good at enough things already,” he says. “Like not going to prison, and being heavy.”

You bear down on him with more weight, a laugh slipping from you unbidden. He loves how startled you sound to have laughed, and how nice you smell as you push your arm under his back to hug him. “That's sick,” you mumble, your free hand toying with the soft neck of his shirt. You pull it down, kissing the skin between his collarbone. “You can't call me heavy. That's so mean.”

“I love you,” he says.

You smile into his chest. “I love you too, even though you said I'm heavy.”

“Relatively, when you're making me carry you to bed at night–”

“I don't do that,” you laugh guiltily. “No, you've got me mixed up with someone else.”

“Well, let's just stay here tonight.” Your phone beeps. “Or not.”

You press yourself into his neck and talk warmth into the curve. “I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. I'm staying right here, forever. And in ten years you'll have huge muscles from carrying me to bed.”

“And your thigh muscles will have atrophied.”

“Like those, do you?”

“As much as I like every part of you. You're the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You snore. Spencer laughs, jostling you on his chest, and you drop the facade to kiss his throat in slow, meandering presses of the lips, no one place in mind, just warm half moons turned a little wider as you go. He breathes out slowly. Kisses like this are the ones that plagued him late at night, when the mind ran out of worry and turned to missing you instead. He would've given anything two weeks ago to have you laying on him like this, and now he has it for nothing. Just ‘cos you love him.

“Are you gonna go back?” he asks quietly.

“To the club?” You draw a short line into his neck with your nose. “Sure, once you're feeling better.”

“I'm alright. I am.”

“Until I'm feeling better, then,” you say, putting your hand on his cheek. You have slightly longer nails than when he went away, and the tips of them tickle his freshly shaven cheek as you turn his face to yours. “I'll go back just as soon as I stop missing you when you're in the bathroom. Or I run out of money.”

“Don't be childish,” he says.

“I'm not, I'm being realistic.”

“Realistically, I'll take care of you.”

You sigh happily and kiss him. That happiness passes between you in shivers, until Spencer's hot under the collar and you're giggling. “What's funny?” he asks.

“Maybe I'll get a job at the grocery store.”

Spencer doesn't know what you'll do, but he'll be there for you like you were there for him. “Good idea. You can be a checkout girl and I'll stay home, looking at pictures of you and crying while you're gone.”

You nudge him. “Don't make fun of me for that! It was a long month and a half without you, Spencer.”

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “I'm not making fun of you. It was the same for me, you know? Just didn't have a picture of you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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teacasket · 1 year

Text

omg

genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans

THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”

Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.

This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.

“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”

If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.

“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”

Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.

“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”

When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.

“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”

Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.

While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.

“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.

IT’S LIX

MP MP MP MP

LIXBERRY

You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.

LIXBERRY LIXBERRY

MP IS REAL

HE’S LIVE

It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.

“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”

“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”

He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”

“My bad. See you at dinner?”

He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.

HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.

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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months

Note

dealer!remus knows that autistic!reader looooooves when he plays with their hair when they’re high :))

Yes yes yes!!

The cloud of smoke that hangs in your porch makes you giggle as you lay in the hammock you’d begged Remus to install three days ago.

It’s extra cosy, in your mind, because you have a crocheted blanket in there with some pillows and it smells like Remus- like most everything in your home now.

You’re on top of him in the hammock, your face pressed neatly under one of his arms as the other one holds your hip.

“Remmy, can you do the thing?” He barely hears what you’ve said, your question stuffed into the thick material of the hammock.

Somehow, he makes you out just fine. “Course, dove.” His fingers bury into the hair at the base of your neck instantly, and he feels the sigh you let out in a puff of air against his side.

Before you realise it, you’re practically purring on his chest as his fingers scratch at your scalp and wind and unwind strands of your hair around his fingers.

“Feels good when you do that,” you pick up your head just a little to get a look at him. Remus’ eyes are closed, his head tucked to one side.

“Makes you sleepy, doesn’t it, princess?” He opens his eyes in time to catch your shy smile and your even more shy nod.

“You so fucking cute,” he kisses your forehead just before you lay your head on his chest.

“We should live closer to the sea,” you say randomly, startling a laugh from Remus.

“Why?” He’s looking down at you now, not that you can tell.

“Cos the sea breeze in a hammock is elite! Plus you wouldn’t have to rock it yourself, the breeze will do it for you.”

Remus shakes his head, “What about high tide?”

You scoff, “We’re not gonna tie the hammock between trees so close to the ocean, Remmy.”

He tuts, “Of course, what was I thinking?” His comment more teasing and playful than anything else.

“I dunno, you’re crazy sometimes.” That earns you a little tug at your roots which makes you shiver. “Hey!” You whine and Remus chuckles.

“Sorry, hand got caught in a knot.”

“Mhm, I bet,” which only earns you another tug.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x high!reader #dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin #tism🤝

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riaki · 5 months

Text

thrifted romance | megumi fushiguro x reader

synopsis: you’ve never really spoken with megumi before, so when your friends leave the two of you behind on a snowy night, you take the opportunity to get to know him.

wc: 6.2k... SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY cw: swearing, college au, noncurse au, i don’t thjnk there’s anything else ??

this got way longer than i intended it to be and i rushed to grind it out so it may not be coherent.. if so i apologize :’3 and this one’s late but i hope the content makes up for it ! enjoy meemow barely proofread!

it's a late winter evening when you meet up with megumi and your friends on the side of the street— cozied up in puffy layers and a long blazer stained with coffee splashes and a few hot chocolate smudges here and there.

fall had melted away with the slow gradient of leaves from the trees, sinking into fluffy piles on the sidewalk that soon became coated and replaced with light snowfall; the first of many problematic inches. midterms were just around the corner, and with it meant late hours spent pulling all-nighters that left you exhausted, eyes dark around the edges with a lack of sleep; breaths of minty hot chocolate and coffee from the amalgamation you'd concocted to at least pretend to get into the holiday spirit.

(a fruitless effort, though— if not for your failure that warned you to stay out of mixology, but the way your roommate's cat had knocked over your mug and ruined the flashcards you'd been wrestling with and looked completely smug with itself.)

really, though, there was absolutely nothing jolly about school, or exams. so when your favorite inefficient, sidetracking study buddy had offered to spend the weekend out, who were you to say no? nobara had offered to go find a club, but it was far too cold out to frolic around in skimpy clothing and your expensive winter coats were much too valuable to risk being stolen in the haze of drunken students and sweaty bodies. so, you'd decided to go shopping, because what else is there to do with her? besides the usual karaoke session with the upperclassmen she seems to like so much, of course.

turns out, it'd had been a group endeavor. or, more accurately— a group of four, unlike the duo you had previously thought you'd be going out in. yuji and megumi were there too— friends from separate majors; you'd heard that yuji was involved in the uprising surge of software engineers and computer science majors clambering for a shot in the world of big AI tech companies, even though he supposedly was about as computer-smart as your teetering old grandma ripe with age, permanently stuck in her rocking chair crocheting the days away.

megumi, on the other hand, was a mystery. you'd shared a few classes together; his chipped dark nails that shone the same blue as his esoteric eyes beneath the warmth of the glowing sun, and his inky black hair that spilled over the collars of his simple gray sweatshirts like effortlessly graceful calligraphy on paper had captured your attention as smooth and seamless as the daylight turned to darkness, days cut short by the onslaught of cold. even so, you'd never brought yourself to interact much— he seemed like he'd prefer to keep to himself, if the way he'd disdainfully scoot away from anyone who tried to approach him and turn up the volume of his headphones indicated anything. you had laughed to your friend and called it introversion to its finest, only to promptly shut up when his unmoving gaze landed on you, leaving you feeling like a clown on the stage, rimmed by rich dark red curtains and a wooden floorboard as the beaming spotlight shines upon you imaginary button nose, hot and glaring under his gaze.

even though you'd approved of his music taste once you snagged a few notes by the ear, you'd really thought his taste in fashion was too bland to be the type of person to shop with nobara— her meticulous style and image were much brighter and more flamboyant than megumi's jaded attempts at a splash of color through the occasional blue argyle or layered turtleneck. still, those were better than yuji's paltry attempts at fashion; at least the myriads of color on nobara's figure were coordinated. the pink-haired boy with funny scars on his face would probably have been better off learning graphic design or art, with the disasters of clashing colors on his person.

and he'd gotten the opportunity to demonstrate his questionable tastes on the chilly evening, when black ice had begun to form on the roads and the soft light of boutiques with slow jazz flowing from the speakers filled your frost-bitten red ears as you walked up to the shade of a nearby lamppost. once you'd all met up, nobara had hooked an arm around your elbow and dragged you off, leaving the boys to follow along like it was walking dogs.

honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you were— at least, with yuji. he carried nobara's bags like she was the next princess in line, without complaint and with the little fearful quivers that dogs get in their legs whenever their owners scold them for barking or misbehaving, much like how nobara would yell at yuji if he dropped a single cream linen sweater or ruffled pink cami.

megumi, on the other hand, was far too lethargic and quiet to be considered any kind of canine. although the weaved bracelet on his left wrist with a cute little puppy charm you caught sight of when he'd rolled his sleeve up implied otherwise. the only reason he'd even had to do that was to rub the sickeningly sweet orange blossom hand sanitizer nobara had spritzed on each of your palms after you took turns petting a stray cat, one that seemed to take a great liking to you and megumi in particular.

the night seemed to drag on forever; pale yellow lights and holiday decorations blurred into swathes and bubbles of color in your vision as the hours passed and the caffeine from the cute little coffeeshop you'd stopped at earlier began to wear off.

but there had just been something magical about that evening; spending time with friends (albeit, more like acquaintances) had granted you a much-needed break from cramming your mind with an overflow of information that was sure to spill out the moment you answered the last exam question. so, when it was almost midnight and it was time to retire to your bed, you'd insisted on staying out for just a little longer while nobara and the rest returned to their dorms to catch some sleep. yuji had complained something about his legs cramping, but you were feeling giddy, and the stars were twinkling just as bright as the light in nobara's eyes were when you told her you had to soak in the fresh air for as long as you could before being locked in to study again as she laughed and headed home with her pink dog-boy escort in tow.

megumi had mumbled something about staying with you since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. you didn't think too much about it, because if you did, you were sure you'd end up with a faced even more flushed than it was frostbitten from the cold.

so, here you were, strolling down the quieter side of town, a brooding boy with inky dark hair and hands pale with blue veins shoved into the pockets of his jacket trailing behind you. he had one airpod tucked into his pierced ear; you assumed he hadn't brought his headphones because yuji would be there to prattle and babble. even so, you were content not to say anything, so there was plenty of opportunity for him to wear both. but he wasn't. you decided not to linger on it.

you'd just finished writing a silly little note out of the crisp snow gathered on the windshield of some stranger's car; the flakes were cold and biting on your skin, leaving it feeling numb with little droplets of icy water when you pulled away to admire your handiwork.

"actually, maybe i shouldn't be doing that." you decided after a moment, mumbling under your breath. it was just a little message with a whiskered smiley face, but the headlights on the car and the bumper seemed to form a frown at you when you stepped back, shaking its motorized head at your vandalism.

"you think?"

megumi's voice sounded from behind you, a little weighed down by the cold with a wisp of warmth leaving his lips like a powdery exhale, curling into the prickly night air. he was standing on the sidewalk, observing you all prickly-like as if you were some flagrant toddler he was babysitting. you still had to get used to the way his voice sounded after rarely hearing it; the few crumbs you got when your professors forced obligatory presentations onto struggling students had sent this warm, fuzzy feeling collecting in your stomach at the rich tone of velvet it held. not rough or overly deep, but smooth and reassuring. the kind you could fall asleep to; like there was a lullaby just waiting to be poured from his tongue with little scratches in the indent of his tone.

of course, you hadn't heard enough of it to make such an assumption, so when you heard the little quip framed with irritation at the edges, it wasn't all sugary sweetness like you imagined.

"yeah, well, sorry i like to live a little," you huffed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to resuscitate some warmth back into them with a small little sigh.

"you call that living?" he scoffs a little, cocking an eyebrow at the vandalized toyota behind you. now, it just looked a little sad; imaginary eyebrows over the red lights droopy in disappointment. you followed his gaze, before looking back at him and making a sour face as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

"maybe we just have different tastes, y'know? doesn't mean we don't have to get along like this," you mumbled, shaking your hands out a little to get the remaining snow droplets off before stuffing them back in your blazer pockets. "just like itadori and nobara. one has terrible taste in fashion and the other doesn't, but they both like their bright colors." you feel satisfied with yourself for that one, but clearly, megumi doesn't feel the same. but the corner of his pink lips seem to quirk up just a tiny bit, and you feel pride blooming in your chest.

there's just something about the way it looks— an almost implausible smile coaxed onto his lips by something particularly amusing, reaching his dull blue eyes in a way that made their usual tedious apathy morph into something like fondness, or appreciation. adding a shine to his navy irises the lamp light overhead could only hope to mimic. then again, you didn't let your mind linger on it for too long like usual— so instead you chalked it up to the one other thing that had caught your eye besides the sharpness of his jaw and the handsome slimness of his face: his jacket.

you take back what you said about his style and its blandness before— it would be unfair to what he was wearing right now. just a simple black turtleneck (one that you were sure he'd worn to the early morning wednesday lecture you had a few days ago, when the sun was still bright enough to catch on the condensation of the cup of lemonade your white-haired, oddly sweet-toothed professor had), and black jeans, but the vintage racing windbreaker hanging from his shoulders brought it together in a way that was unfairly seamless; all dark blues and stripes of checker; a neutral grayblue that reminded you of the sky on rainy afternoons, trudging about the shopping districts in tokyo. there were a few brand patches here and there, some red bubble lettering of names you didn't recognize in patches of color that brought out the shade of his eyes. maybe the labels of those energy drink brands you often caught him running on when the shadows beneath his long dark lashes seemed heavier than usual.

all that to say he looked good. like, seriously good. you didn't know how you hadn't noticed all night— but now that you had, it was hard to keep your eyes from his slim and tall silhouette (not that he minded). the jacket really complimented it.

"that's a neat jacket. where'd you get it?" you asked after a moment of chilling silence; he'd probably noticed you looking, and you prayed he didn't think you were checking him out. although, if that meant getting your hands on one of those windbreakers, you wouldn't really mind. he glanced up at you, tearing his attention from the sad snowy toyota camry that seemed worn past its years at the newfound attention on megumi's racing jacket. he blinked a little, and you didn't miss the little flake of frost on his eyelash; probably caught from brushing past a windowsill earlier. by now, most shops were closed; even so, the street still felt warm and safe. well, maybe it was to be credited to a person rather than the concrete— but like you had been all night, you ignored it.

"oh, this?" as if he was wearing more than one jacket (it was cute), "i thrifted it." and for some reason, you didn't expect to be surprised, but you were. him? thrifting? the few western-fashion tailored thrift stores you'd been to with nobara had been lacking— not like you'd been able to stay in them long; the artificial ginger had this... beef with reused clothes. she liked her clothes clean and fresh from the press, even if you reminded her they could just be fresh from someone else's press. megumi must be familiar with the antiquated racks of varied worn graphic tees and frayed pants if he could fish something that classy from a thrift store.

then again, it's not like you had any experience to go off of at all.

"really? y'know, i've always wanted to go thrifting," you sighed, stretching your arms out, watching the fabric of your blazer wrinkle and curve to follow the movement of your muscles. a light dusting of snow coated the surface, like powdered sugar on tiramisu. that makes the coffee stains fitting. "but i feel like i'm bad at it." you said, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, the rubber bottom of your sneakers brushing against a little clump of pine green weeds.

"bad at it?" megumi echoes, following you with a faint ruffle of smooth fabric, like the sound of a zipper sliding down. before, the world had been a cool shade of gray, like smoke rising from a cigarette or the blurry blue of the sky from the window of a speeding bullet train. but now, you let yourself soak in the sound of his voice, like grinded coffee beans and a smooth, soothing honey medicine for your throat on a sick day when you get to cozy up in your bunk bed and watch the clouds drift by.

it's nice.

"yeah. like, i wouldn't know where to go, or what to find, or what to look for..." you trailed off, rubbing your cold fingers together again as your breaths leave in little exhales of coagulating mist in the cold night air. now that it was late, it the temperature would only continue to drop.

you walked in silence for a little longer, listening to the scuffles of shoes against concrete, glassy with ice that had begun to creep up on the roads like a steady stream of seafoam from the tides.

"why don't we go thrifting now, then?" he asks out of the snowy blue.

you paused, and you almost smacked straight into a pole. "now?" you spluttered, turning around to face him. the look on his face was unreadable; a mix between exasperation, amusement, an attempt at stoicism, and something like affection in the corner of his lips as they curved upward. it was like a CPR compression; the smile that sent fuzzy electricity through your veins and reinvigorated your heart.

"yes, now." he said it like you were stupid, which you might just be, the way you stared dumbly at his face. "the place i got this jacket from is just over there," he said, jutting a ring-adorned thumb behind him. you had to lean up and peek around his shoulder to see it; you wouldn't've noticed if he didn't point it out. it was tucked between two buildings, a stairway downward into the store. the only thing indicating its status as a retail and thrifting store was the broken neon sign and painted red arrow that gestured towards the staircase.

"looks really shady. and it's late." you grumbled after you got over yourself, and he shot you an irritated look. that was all he really seemed to be doing tonight; that downward knit of his dark eyebrows and the slight pout weighing his lips down. not very suave, you think.

he swallows hard, and you aimlessly watch the bob of his adam's apple. "well?" he prompts, a hard edge to his voice despite the situation. you stand there for a little while, marinating in the growing cold until you cant feel the tips of your fingers.

"fine."

one accidental slip on the crosswalk and a few minutes later, you're stepping down the last wooden stair of the thrift store and into the building's basement; it's much bigger than you would've thought, with an expanse of layered clothing racks that obscure your vision, the corners of the walls clogged with cobwebs and years of dust build up. there's a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke and cologne; something vanilla that you've caught clinging to megumi's wrists and neck on the rare occasion you brush past him. faint jazz spills from the speakers, something in a swing rhythm with the signature lilt of saxophone that makes you think you should be out enjoying a romantic fancy dinner instead of being cooped up between old wrinkly moth-bitten clothes. but you're here with megumi, so you convince yourself you don't mind either way.

"you sure this is the right place?" you asked, trying (and failing) to keep the obvious distain from your voice as you kick a folded 'floor-is-wet' sign from your path and step into the store. you can't even see the cash register from where you're standing.

"yes, i'm sure. can you stop complaining?" you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you're sure you could see it too if you just turned around. "trust me. it's not all shit." his voice softens, and you freeze up a little as he brushes past you; the corridors and margins are tight, so he has to turn sideways to fit. even so, a tag on your coat manages to snag on his jacket, and you hasten to unhook it before he can notice. he almost disappears into the racks, and you have to follow him, pushing your way through thick coats and worn graphic tees that have cracked logos and balls of lints clinging to them.

you're no thrifting expert, but you're pretty sure the store's supposed to be in better condition than this.

"hey." megumi's voice soon snaps you back into reality, and you look up from the mustard yellow top you were eyeing warily to meet his sedate gaze. "the good stuff's in the back. c'mon." he doesn't give you much room to argue even though it sounds like you're here to do drugs rather than find clothing, and before you can react he's reached forward to grab your wrist and tug you along. a yelp of protest almost spills from your lips, but you bite your tongue and let him drag you along, trying to extinguish the hue of cherry you know is making a home on the tips of your ears.

you brush past patchwork coats and a few leather belts that've tangled with the lace from the silk shirts next to them, but nothing really catches your eye, until you realize that he's let go of you only because of the lack of warmth around your skin and you focus yourself on the current again. you glance up at him, but he already has his back turned to you, sifting through a rack of black shirts that all look the exact same. maybe you have an untrained eye, though.

still, you can't help it when your gaze lingers over the back of his neck; one strand of dark hair has caught itself beneath the collar of his turtleneck, and it irks you. and you decide to do something about it because you'll know it'll bother you if you don't.

time seems to move in a liquid slow; things are blurring and there's no mothballs or ugly recycled coats to get in your way as you reach over and swipe your hand across his neck, hooking a finger beneath the strand and pulling it out of his collar. it takes you a moment to realize what you just did, and when you do, it's like there's a permanent mark seared into your index finger just from the touch of his skin against your own. you think he might have whiplash because he turns his head around so fast to catch your gaze before you can slink away, eyes wide and eyebrows knit, and you notice his bottom lip is snagged between his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow, but before he can utter a shaming word that'll only make you feel more embarrassed you shake your head vigorously, apologetically.

"sorry— it was bothering me. i hope you don't mind." you managed to say, the words spilling out in a rush before you turned away and slipped past him, disappearing into an aisle of dresses. you can feel his gaze burning cold holes into your back as you distract yourself.

you don't let yourself linger on what you just did— you seem to be doing a lot of that, lately, especially with him as you go through a few batches of clothing. by now, it's far past midnight, and you're feeling much more sluggish than you'd like to admit. you haven't seen megumi in a good twenty minutes save for the few times you picked up a few shirts and a cute diner jacket you thought would look good on him. he just thanked you bluntly, taking the bundle of clothing from your arms before walking away to the fitting rooms. you wished he'd stay to let you see the jacket.

you'd tried on a few things, discarding your blazer in favor of a cute knitted cardigan you grabbed, but nothing seemed to stick the way you'd like them to. it would be a great help if you had nobara to assist, but you were sure she was snoring away at home right now, and at the thought of your warm, inviting bed, your knees wobbled a little and you balanced yourself on the wall.

"hey— oh, you alright?" it's an unfamiliar voice; you lift your head up, looking for the source. it's a young boy— he looks to be about your age, maybe a little younger. there's a blue lanyard around his neck, and he's got a spattering of freckles on his hands, which are curled around the collar of a white linen shirt. he must be the one who's tending to the store.

"yeah, i'm okay. sorry," you said hastily, pushing away and rubbing the back of your neck. how embarrassing— he didn't seem to mind, though. he just smiled, big and bright and toothy. cute. reminded you of how toddlers would grin up at parents with those huge red lollipops in hand.

"no worries. i just thought i'd let you know that we're closing soon, since it's almost 2am." he said, shifting his weight on his sneakers. you nodded, about to give a hum of confirmation before another voice cuts through the slow jazz filling the stifling air above, all familiar in its smoothness.

before you could respond, though— "[name]?" megumi's voice rang out in the quaint little store, calling for you, and so you give the employee an apologetic nod before you turn and start toward the noise. you pass a mirror with a coat draped over the top, peeking your head around a tall rack of long skirts to catch sight of the raven head, in all of his glory. you notice that he's taken off his windbreaker.

"what’s up? we have to go soon," you reminded him, yawning a little and rubbing your eyes as you straightened up and stepped over to his side. there was another mirror in front of him, you noticed, with fading stickers pale in the dim yellow light stuck to the wooden rim. even so, with the smudges and the bare sheen of the silver, he looked good. that black turtleneck really suits him.

"i know. i just wanted to ask for your opinion." he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. you tilted your head curiously, and he held up a deep mauve sweatshirt, with some varsity logo branded on the fabric. it had a nice touch to it; a warm color that reminded you of red wine and slow evenings. you were sure it had been one of the pieces you'd picked out for him, but you were too sleepy to recall. "you should try it on. i think it'd look good," you said, gesturing toward the mirror.

you think you must've said something wrong, because he looks at you for a moment too long before he seems to catch himself staring and he nods, a choked little sound leaving his throat which he hides by ducking his head down and covering his face with his long bangs. you think you're hallucinating the pink on his cheeks.

after a moment, he glances at you. "hold this," he shoves his jacket towards you, and you have no choice but to take it. doesn't seem like he's used to taking no for an answer, but you're certainly not the one complaining when he tugs the sweater over his head, ruffling his soft black hair as he steps a little closer to you, observing himself in the mirror while straightening out the folds and fixing his turtleneck. you were right— it does look good on him. almost unfairly so— you don't know how he manages to rock granny clothes so well, like he was born a retirement home's runway model.

unlike him, you're not a reticent shut in— and although you'd like to say you have no problem telling him how good he looks, it's still a little difficult when the words feel like they're lodged in your throat in order to prevent you from making a fool of yourself again. but you ignore it and push on.

"you look great. i think it really suits you," you breathed, shaking your head as your hands tighten around his jacket in your arms. he blinks, adjusting the collar before glancing down at you. you take a moment to really appreciate the sight— him, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the chipped lights overhead. despite the dilapidated store and the antiquated, worn clothing surrounding him, he still manages to look like some ethereal angel boy you'd stumble upon in a bookstore on a dreary winter's afternoon and never be able to get out of your mind again.

ink black eyelashes flutter when he blinks, framing his eyes like the bangs falling over his face when he turns around again to observe himself in the mirror once more before he takes the sweatshirt off. it catches on his turtleneck, which rides up when he slips the mauve sweater over his head, tussling his hair and exposing the dip of his pale hips, all muscle and flesh and bone, and you pray he chalks up the red on your face to the cold. the end of his belt dangles from the buckle as you hand his jacket back to him, fingers almost brushing— just barely out of reach.

a meager conversation flows between the two of you; you follow him through the endless maze of used clothing until you somehow stumble upon the cash register and he buys his sweater; the only thing he manages to buy after all this time spent milling about in a dusty, dinky little retail store. the boy from earlier helps check him out, and the icy glare he receives from megumi when he glances at you seems to fly straight past your head as you pick at your cuticles. the tips of your fingers are still red from messing with the frosty snow earlier. you wonder when the car owner will find your message.

it's almost freezing when you get out of the dusty shop, emerging from the smoke-stained alleyway stairs and into the cold night air. your breaths almost seem to form a precipitate, and the thought reminds you of the chemistry conversions waiting for you on your desk beneath the lamp, and you cringe internally. staying out for a few hours longer seems way better than succumbing to the never ending stream of worksheets and documents calling your name. you wonder if your charismatic professor will let you get away with a few assignments if you call in sick. are papercuts excuse enough?

the click of a lock behind you signifies the store's closing— the employee left through a back exit, it seems. and you realize too late that you left your blazer in the dressing room when you turn around and a sigh falls from your lips. megumi, paper bag in hand, glances over at you.

"you okay?"

you almost forgot he was there, in his brooding vintage racing jacket glory. you shake your head, before sighing forlornly again. he notices this, making a little face; his lips press together and his pretty eyes narrow. he thinks you sigh far too much. you'd look prettier if you smiled some more. he likes it when you do.

"i left my blazer in there, but he just closed it and it's so fucking cold out," you whined, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes tiredly. you're cold and your fingers are going numb again, and there's light snowfall. so much for not losing your coat at a club. you can't tell which one's worse. "sorry to complain so much, but do you mind if we—"

you're promptly cut off; the words on your tongue left unsaid, burning with the taste of bitter black coffee. your gaze trails from megumi's hand, the clink of his silver ring against the zipper rail of his jacket as his fingers curl around the fabric, up his arm to the sleeves of his dark turtleneck, rounding the curve of his shoulders and up his neck to his face. he's not looking at you.

the words that leave his wet lips are so small and hurried that you think you're hallucinating them; when you inevitably looked back at this moment later, you'd realize that he was being shy. he mumbles something under his sweet breath, and you ask him to speak up.

"i said, you can use mine." he repeats, louder than necessary as he finally brings himself to look down at you from under his lashes, biting the inside of his cheek. his voice is a little strained, and a soft breeze carrying the smell of cinnamon and fresh ice rustles his hair. you blinked, feeling like a deer caught in headlights over a layer of thin ice, ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

"oh— okay. um, do you have anywhere else you need to go..?" you said tentatively, reaching forward to take his jacket again. it was exactly like how you'd done back in the thrift store, but the vague sense of deja vu you get is accompanied by an endless fluttering of warmth in your stomach that melts away the winters and tiring exams, and the night seems to become a soft warm orange, as if someone's drained the cool hues from the landscape.

megumi just shook his head, reaching into his bag and taking out the sweater he'd bought earlier. he slips it on again, adjusting it over his shoulders and refusing to meet your eyes as he crumples the paper bag in his hands. you notice they're slightly trembling as he does it, fingers digging into the material with much more force than is really needed. his hair follows each movement of his head; the strain of the muscles in his neck when he swallows again and gestures for you to follow him back down the empty street, past cars coated in melting snow and jaunty yellow lights twinkling over the awnings of closed store windows, shut down for the night. the sweater suits him really well, you think; not too loose, but tight enough in the right places to send your heart racing a mile a minute.

you pull his jacket over your arms, tucking your sleeves in and zipping it up. it's big on you— that's no surprise, and you can almost taste the vanilla on your tongue, his cologne lingering on every fold of the insulated fabric. it's warm, and it feels like being enveloped in a tight hug. in megumi's head, he hopes— prays its him you think of if you ever feel that way again.

you walk in a stiff silence; both of you want to say something, but you're dancing around it, letting your words linger unsaid until the other breaks the ice first. it's only ever cracked once you reach the dorms, where you part ways. there's light snowfall, and a thin layer of white has coated his hair when you turn to face him. you reach forward, learning onto the tips of your toes to brush off the ice. his hair feels unimaginably soft beneath your fingers, slightly damp from the snow. but he's the furthest from cold when you pull away; his face is burning up.

by now, you can't bring yourself to mind.

"thank you," you said softly, sighing contentedly. you move to take his jacket off your shoulders and return it, but he stops you, holding a hand up. the expression on his face is unreadable, but his lips are pursed together in a way that makes you think he's pouting.

"don't worry—" a pause. " you can, uh. keep it. i know you wanted one. just... give it back when you want, yeah?" he says, curt. almost prude, if it weren't for the way he was avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment. it was like trying to play the world's most difficult game of whack-a'mole, attempting to catch his eyes and see the iceberg that's melted into pools of warm glittering affection in his blue irises. at the thought, you wonder if he likes arcades, and you make a mental note to suggest an activity to nobara the next time she has the urge for an escapade.

you don't bother asking him whether he's sure, because you don't want him to take his words back. so you linger there in a moment of silence, letting it hang over your heads like a warm throw blanket, cozied in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. maybe a coffee mix like you'd attempted before.

angel boy clears his throat first to speak, all honey that links the syllables together like christmas ribbon; rich like orange flavored dark chocolate. "i'll see you later, then." it's short and sweet, but your heart is already flying so high on euphoria you can barely bring yourself to care, or suppress the giddy grin that's spreading across your lips.

yeah, you're tired. yeah, you're still a little cold and you think you need to thaw at your desk for a week until exams, but at least you've got his jacket to accompany you when your study buddy passes out first and you're alone on all nighters. frankly, you can't bring yourself to care— your head is spinning with the events of the chilly night, from crude messages in the snow to thrift store mothballs and lanyards, to one checkered racing jacket. but you don’t think it’s so bad when it threatens to stick to your memory, like chewed up gum under your professor’s desk. whether it’s from the students or the professor, that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.

"yeah. see you around, fushiguro." you can’t say the same about the mystery that megumi is, though. in fact, you think you’re already one step closer when you turn around and part ways, catching sight of him in the reflection of a frosted window. he’s slipping both of his airpods back into his ears, crimson at the tips.

the sound of your shoes against the rug stairway fills your ears as you clamber back up to your dorm, eyelids heavy with drowsiness and face flushed a pleasant warmth. even when you finally get to bed, you can't stop your eyes from drifting over to the bundle of lapis blue fabric sitting on your desk, and your mind from the soft spoken boy with eyes like the night sky and inky hair like calligraphy.

you decide you don't think his style is too bad, after all. and when you tell him that the next morning when he's still sleepy and his lashes fall slow when he blinks the weariness from his eyes, you get to enjoy the steady flush that stains his cheeks and prompts a hoarse cough from his throat when he ducks his head away and grumbles something under his breath, probably about being offended you even thought he was boring in the first place.

and if you ever ask, the only reason he lent you his windbreaker that night was to replace the scent of mothballs and dust with your sweet-smelling perfume.

so, as it turns out, you're able to get your hands on one of those pretty vintage racing jackets— except, it wasn't a new one; it was his. nobara hasn't stopped pestering you with questions since you showed up to class the next day; the only thing you hear for the next week is how much she regrets leaving early.

apparently, it's all yuji's fault.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

#ahhh im really sorry this is late;; got busy with life like those ao3 authors but much less impressive #i really like jazz i feel like not enough people do #just listen to persona music sometime. its worth #sometimes i make up words but thats ok as long as people buy it. i speak english first language trust 👨‍🔬#i feel like reader is kokomi or whatever her name is from saiki k #at that one ramen place but its a thrift store.. pretending it’s not all that bad except reader doesn’t rlly try LMFAO #for megumi!!! everything we do is for him 💐#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x y/n #billet-doux #and via thinks her titles r bad #I CAN FINALLMY. WORK ON MY CHRISTMAS EVENT

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reidsdaisies · 6 months

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Heyyy!!!! Could you please write a blurb, drabble or headcanon about Spencer wanting to be a househusband or how would he be as such??!? I’ve been watching The way of the househusband anime lately and it sparked the idea. I love your writing and have a great day 💕💕💕

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; househusband spencer reid x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; you literally read my mind!! I’ve been wanting to do something about househusband spencer ever since i did spencer x housewife reader! and i had way too much fun on pinterest looking for inspo pics 😭💞 here’s a board i lowk love, I think it’s just adorable if anyone wants to know what I’m picturing — ׂׂૢ

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— i know i said he’s a terrible cook before, but in this universe i think he would have spent a lot of time learning how to cook and bake so he could cook you homemade meals and delicious sweet treats to show his appreciation for how hard you work to put a roof over the two of your heads

— he wears cute ass girly or flowery aprons when cooking and adorable oven mitts, fight me

— he has an unhealthy attachment to his kitchen aid mixer, will talk about how much he loves that thing. you’re concerned.

— excellent and very precise with cleaning 👌 scrubs at the bathroom sink till you can practically see your reflection in it and dusts every damn crevice of your house

— very passionate about the projects he gets into. like if he decides he wants a garden, omg he will commit. he’d probably want a house with a big backyard with enough space to build one of those cute vegetable gardens in the back yard and grow you two’s own food. and he would plant big apple and pear trees, would take pride in how great the fruit is and when everything is finally ready to be picked, he’ll make you bring it to work for the team

— AND omg a greenhouse would be his dream to have. everyone knows about his big ass brain and he definitely has extensive knowledge on all different types of plants, exactly what conditions they need to thrive

— along with that, i know he’d be really into lawn-scaping, you two have the best lawn EVER, and im not exaggerating. the back and the front of the house— absolutely beautiful. he picks out the prettiest flowers and makes sure the soil is rich, and ofc trims the bushes to perfection. he’d look so cute with gardening gloves, these or these specifically, and his massive ass, muddy ass gardening boots that are a size too big but he’s oddly attached to them.

— other hobbies he’s picked up include scrapbooking, drawing, painting, and of course knitting & crocheting.

— in one episode, he told Penelope he spent weeks knitting a scarf for his cosplay, and so now I’ve been constantly thinking about the other things he’d knit & crochet for him and his partner. scarfs, mittens, winter hats, sweaters, pot holders, anything he can make, he will make even just to try it out once.

— the pot holders would have cute animals on them or flowers. floral everything. he loves all plants, specifically flowers.

— now that you two own a house together, there’s so much opportunity for him. he’s got his own office AND most importantly, it’s massive and doubles as his own personal library. it’s walls are lined with multiple of the tallest, most spacious bookcases you could find for him, still just barely being able to fit his ever growing book collection on their shelves.

— he’s a house husband, he probably doesn’t have time for the FBI. im not sure if he would be fully a stay at home husband because that would bore him and many people need the help of his big brain so I think he’d spend a lot of time in his office, researching and writing articles probably most having to do with finding a cure for schizophrenia.

— if he were to also be a professor while married to you, i don’t think that would happen unless you’re imaging later seasons reid, but personally I’m imagining seasons 6-11 (minus season 8 with the maeve story arc) for this.

— i could maybe see Penelope and him owning a buisness/website together for both their crafts, of course Penelope would run the website and handle all the technical things.

— you and spencer have Penelope over on weekends and off days to chit chat while knitting or painting mugs or canvases. sometimes you’ll invite JJ, Emily, and Derek over but Emily and Derek would drag you away to the kitchen to get wine-drunk and gossip while JJ would be decorating the frames of her kids pictures and copying silly mug designs she found on Pinterest for Will.

— whenever you’re not on a case, and you’re friends aren’t available or you two aren’t feeling ver social, that’s when you finally get to be the sweet, lovey-dovey married couple you two are at heart

— for fun, you guys always bake brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and what not together, that ofc, he insists you take into work to show off his beautiful decorating skills. they’re not that beautiful but you still like to tell him they are to boost his ego and make jokes about how he should work at a bakery. a bakery would never hire him.

— you’ve given him the nickname of ‘cuddle bug’. why? because he’s such a gosh darn cuddle bug. will curl up to your side for hours while you finish any necessary paperwork and you two talk about the most recent case you worked while he’s mindlessly drawing little butterflies and hearts on your back

— after particularly rough cases, he runs you two a bubble bath to just soak in and spend some much needed and well deserved alone time together

— mentioned this in my housewife head canons, but you two would take turns giving each other back, shoulder, foot, or really anywhere needed massages. he’s all fancy with it, bringing out coconut oil and shi but you just let him do his thing, you’re getting a free massage, no need to complain about that

༉‧´ˎ˗ bonus; you two have movie nights every friday where you lounge in the living room eating nachos and watching tv. surprise, he always weasels his way into getting to pick what you watch. even bigger ‘surprise’, it’s always Star Trek or some scientific documentary.

anyways, that’s all i can think of for now, but if anyone has anything they want to add, please talk to me about house husband spencer through my inbox !! i will do anything to feminize this beautiful man

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #house husband spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male reader #househusband spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom

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makaias-trashheap · 11 months

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Introducing his gf to his stream

(So I’ve read a few different posts that involve Kenma introducing his s/o on a stream for various reasons...so this is by no means an original idea 😅 I just figured I’d try my hand at it. So kudos to whoever came up with this beautiful concept)

Kenma leaned back in his gaming chair finally relaxing after spending a little over an hour on the last boss he was fighting. He decided for the last hour of his stream to let his viewers ask questions, since they were always curious when it comes to his personal life. Unsurprisingly the question about his relationship with his girlfriend came up again, mostly asking if he was ever going to introduce her to them.

“I mean that’s not entirely up to me, but I can ask if she would maybe be ok with it.”

The chat exploded with excited comments asking him to ask so they could meet you. They’ve heard your voice and seen when you’ve brought Kenma a snack or something to drink while streaming, never more than your hand or forearm, but enough to know that you exist. He read over the chat again before sighing and smiles slightly, “You guys really want to meet her that badly?”

He chuckles at the confirmation that once again blows up his chat, “Alright, give me a couple minutes to go and talk to her and I’ll see what I can do.”

He mutes his mic and slides off his headset, setting them on the desk before getting up and making his way back to your shared room to see if you were still awake. Peeking his head in the partially open door he smiles seeing you sitting up in bed working on your latest crochet project, your switch laying abandoned in your lap. Sensing someone watching you, you stop working and look up at the door smiling when you see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, “Hey,” you quickly glance down at your switch to check the time, “finishing up early tonight?”

He shakes his head, “They’re bugging me about wanting to meet you again.”

You chuckle and shake your head going back to working the yarn in your hands, “They certainly can be lively huh? So did you come in here because you’re thinking about giving in?”

“Would you be ok with that? I want to make sure I respect your privacy and I don’t want to push anything. If you aren’t comfortable with it I can tell them no.”

You look back up at him finishing off the current row of your project you were working on. You guys had talked about the possibility of him introducing you on one of his streams but he wanted to see if the excitement would die down first. You trusted Kenma when it came to making sure that you would be able to safely appear on one of his streams considering how long he had been doing it at this point. You tie off your project and set it aside climbing out of bed, “Alright let’s go do this.”

“You sure?”

You smile and nod holding his hand, “So long as you don’t mind that I mostly look like I just rolled out of bed.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand heading back to his gaming room. He settles into his chair keeping ahold of your hand and pulls you in to sit in his lap wrapping his arms around you. He reaches out to unmute his mic as the chat starts to go wild, “You guys wanted to meet her, here she is.”

You smile slightly and wave, “Hi, I’m Kodzuken’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you.”

You manage to catch a couple messages here and there but can barely keep track of the chat with how rapidly people are commenting.

‘OMG SHES SO PRETTY!’

‘Wait so Kodzuken plays videogames all day and still manages to pull girls.’

‘Teach me your ways!’

Kenma chuckles as your eyes fly across the screen trying to reach the chat before blinking hard. He leans back in his chair pulling you to fully relax against his chest, “I know it’s a lot, I can read off a few questions I’m catching.”

You nod reaching to fidget with one of his hands as Kenma scans over the chat.

“They wanna know how long we’ve been together and how long we’ve known each other.”

“Oh jeez…we’ve been together since we started college so…7 years. But we’ve known each other since high school.”

Kenma traps your fingers with his and turns his head to kiss your cheek keeping his chin on your shoulder, “No she isn’t much of a gamer.”

You glance at Kenma as he answers and then smile and shake your head turning back to face the monitor, “I don’t have the patience or honestly the skill for it. I play games with him occasionally like Minecraft or Animal Crossing, but crafts are more my thing. Like this,” You gesture to Kenmas beanie he was currently wearing, “I made this for him a while back.”

You two sat there like that answering questions for a while, Kenma occasionally blocking the user of a hateful comment that managed to slip it’s way in.

“Alright guys we’ve gone over a bit and I’m sure she’d like me to come to bed with her for once, so I’ll see you guys later.”

He closed the stream and sighs burying his face in your neck, “Maybe now they’ll be happy for a while.”

You chuckle and squeeze his arm, “Come on let’s go to bed, I had to fight to keep myself awake while we were doing this.”

He lets go of you and you stand up turning to grab his hand and pull him to his feet. You two make your way back to your room Kenma taking off his beanie and his hoodie before climbing into bed and pulling you to against him, “Thanks for doing that.”

You lean up and kiss him, “Of course, now get some sleep, you sound exhausted.”

He grunts and buries his face in your hair falling asleep fairly quickly.

#haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #kenma kuzome #kozume kenma #kenma imagine #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma #kenma imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kenma scenario

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blossom-works · 8 months

Text

Home for My Heart: At His Happiest

Almost a whole year of Kylian getting to experience one of the happiest times of his life with the woman he loves the most.

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, descriptions of vaginal birth, vomiting

---

With a big smile, you watch your husband do a celebratory dance. He still has your pregnancy test in hand, and Kylian’s dimples are on full display. With two big steps, he goes back to the white box and silently squeals at the crochet cleats and ball. While you cannot entirely see his face, only the side of it, you know that Kylian is thinking about the child that will one day be here. He places one of the cleats into the palm of his hand, and you watch as Kylian marvels at its size. It barely fills the length of his palm. Kylian puts everything back in the box and magically appears in front of you. His hands cup your cheeks and he plants one of the biggest kisses he can on your lips. Kylian’s passionate kiss is a bit too passionate for your liking. He is starting to hurt your cheeks with how hard he is pushing against them.

You pull his hands off your face and your face away from his. “I’ll take it that you’re happy.”

“Chérie, c'est la meilleure nouvelle que j'ai jamais entendue ! Nous allons être parents ! Nous devons le dire à nos familles !“ You have to flinch at how loud Kylian has gotten. Honey, that's the best news I've ever heard! We are going to be parents! We need to tell our families!

Now it is your turn to cup his cheeks. “I know you’re excited, but I want us to hold off on telling people.”

“Huh? But why?” Just what in the world is holding you back? This is probably the best thing that has happened to you two. Why not celebrate it with your friends and families?

Putting on your serious face, you say “Look, I’m just as excited as you are, but the first trimester is the most crucial. I don’t want to freak you out or make you worried, but about eighty percent of miscarriages happen during the first trimester. I don’t want to get everyone excited only to-” you say the last part in a whisper. “Lose the baby.”

Your talk of reality brings Kylian down from his high. Hearing what you have to say, Kylian nods his head and kisses your forehead. Hugging you, Kylian tells you that you two have nothing to worry about and that he cannot wait to tell everyone that you will be parents. The box of goodies sits on the table while you and Kylian fantasize about life as parents.

“What do you think it’ll be?”

“I would have to say boy since your family has a lot of boys.”

“But your family has a lot of girls.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who gives the last chromosome. X or Y.”

Kylian shrugs his shoulders to your truth. His hand has not left your stomach. If anything, that one spot is getting a bit sweaty. You tried to move his hand, but Kylian swiped your hand away.

“What about names?” You ask.

“Mmmm...Kylian Jr.?”

You lift your head at him and raise a brow. “I refuse to let my child be named Jr.”

“What? Why not? Kylian is a great name.”

“No, you’re just fueling your own ego. Besides, I will refuse to have sex with you if your child has the same name as you.”

Kylian looks at you like you just grew two heads, but the more he thinks about it, the more your outrageous statement makes sense. He grimaces at the thought and agrees that Kylian Jr. is off the table.

“What about football? Would you want our kids to pursue a career in it? Especially if we have a son.”

Your husband hums. “I would like them to at least love the sport, but if they have a passion for it like I did, then I would want them to go after their passion.”

“And what if they don’t like football?”

“It would break my heart.” He tells honestly. “But I can’t force it on them. Especially when they get older.”

You and Kylian talk more and more about your future with kids. Going over all the “what ifs” your heads can think of. The more you guys talk about the baby forming in your womb, the more excited Kylian is. He has always been good with children and has always wanted kids of his own, but he chose to focus on his career. When Kylian got older, the urge to settle down and have kids grew. He is lucky that you wanted kids just as bad as he did because if he had to wait any longer, Kylian may just end up going crazy. When you were just dating, Kylian saw how you treated your nieces and nephews. You loved and doted on them as much as you could, but you would also scold them if they got into trouble. Kylian just knew you would make a great mother, and he only hopes that he can be a greater father.

A Couple Weeks Later:

(Bold dialogue in quotations in this section means that someone is speaking in Spanish)

You let out a loud sigh as you close the lid of your water bottle. When you made the appointment to visit the clinic, the woman on the phone told you that you have to drink at least thirty-two ounces of water an hour before you get to your appointment. You thought that it would be easy since your water bottle is thirty-two ounces but drinking it in a limited time is a lot to ask. Especially when you cannot use the bathroom until after the appointment ends. You hear your husband laugh at how annoyed you are.

“Vous vous amusez la bas?“ You glare at how much fun Kylian is having at your expense. Having fun there?

“Shut up. I can feel my bladder expanding with water alone.” You say as you fix your posture to make yourself as comfortable as you can. “If I pee on myself, I’m gonna send the the bill from the cleaners to the clinic.”

“Ha ha ha! We’re almost there. I’m sure your bladder can wait a couple more moments.”

The more you grovel in your water misery, the slower Kylian is driving. After wishing and wishing for traffic to move faster, your wish is granted. Kylian reverse parks the Mercedes. Thanks to his reputation, the owner of the clinic agreed to do all of your appointments before they open to the public. Of course, it came with a higher bill, but it was worth it in Kylian’s eyes. He does not want the media to get a hold of your pregnancy just yet. Since front window tinting is illegal in the country of Spain, Kylian has to be extra careful on the road to avoid unwanted attention. He calls the front desk to tell them that you guys are here, and when the receptionist sees his Mercedes, she hurriedly unlocks the door.

“Welcome! Let me show you to the room. Your OB should be there shortly.”

A fact that you forgot in your agony of water, is that the OB clinic you are at is part of the hospital you work at. It is at a different location, but under the same board or management. It is the reason why you and Kylian were able to make this request so easily. You also know how the entire establishment works so trust is a big player.

Kylian thanks the woman as she leads you down a hallway. She stops at the third door on the right and motions for you two to enter. She tells you to sit at the exam table and reminds you both that the OB will be here shortly.

“Did you finish drinking you thirty-two ounces of water?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Alright. I’m just going to take down some basic information and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Once the lady finished jotting down said information, she closes the door to leave you and Kylian alone. Being the nosy person you are, you get down from the exam table and snoop around the cabinets and drawers.

“What are you doing?” Kylian asks you in disbelief. If you remember correctly, this is the first time Kylian has been in a clinic room with you, so he does not know that you like to prowl the room before the doctor comes in.

“I’m a curious person.” You shrug like it is no big deal. Most if not all the clinics you have been to have the same materials in it, but there may be that one time where something weird is discovered. Kylians shakes his head at your antics, but lets you continue. A knock on the thick door interrupts your snooping and you hurriedly sit back down on the exam table. Sending Kylian into a laughing fit.

“Come in.”

The OB closes the door around her and greets Kylian and you.

“Hello! I’m Alejandra Sanchez and I’ll be your OB for the rest of your pregnancy. Now before I start the exam, have you had any symptoms? Pregnancy related or not?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“And you have no known allergies, correct?”

“Uh-huh.”

Once the OB has everything she needs, Alejandra asks you to lay down on the table and to lift your shirt to your chest. The clinic had asked you to wear loose fitting clothes so the water-based gel does not ruin your clothing. She also asked you to wear a sports bra in case the underwire interferes with the sonogram. Alejandra uses a clean towel to roll down the waist band of your pants enough to expose your entire torso. The waistband is now where your pubic bone is.

Alejandra warns you that the gel is cold before applying it. Kylian scoots his chair so he can sit right next to you, but out of the OB’s way. She places the transducer on the gelled area and starts searching for the peanut of a baby. You see Kylian pulling out his phone to record the upcoming moment. Alejandra starts pointing out the different organs the machine is picking up. She puts a bit more pressure where your uterus is. She moves the transducer left, right, up, and down and there it is. Your baby.

“Here we go.” Alejandra says as she points to the white shaped peanut. With her free hand she explains that the black bubble your baby is in is the placenta. She then uses her free hand to check the baby’s growth, and that is when she plays the most beautiful sound a person can play.

The rhythmic beat of such a small heart is truly a blessing to hear. Unknowingly, you and Kylian’s grip on the other’s hand has loosened. Too in awe at the sight and sound of your child. Your first child. Kylian’s camera perfectly captures the screen, but it does not do the scan justice.

“Your baby is growing just fine, and their heartbeat is regular. It looks like your baby is about six weeks old. Meaning-” Alejandra does some quick math. “Your baby should be due sometime in August of next year. Would you like me to send a recording of the heartbeat to your email?”

Kylian immediately agrees and gives her the appropriate information. Alejandra thanks your husband and leaves you two to enjoy the moment with each other. Neither of you say anything. Not that anything needs to be said. You two could look at the scan for ages and never get bored of it. The sight may be insignificant for some, but that is just because they do not understand the wonders of it. Knowing that this baby is to grow inside of you makes you selfish. A big part of you does not want to give birth to this child and have them all to yourself.

Neither of you realize that about ten minutes have gone by just staring and listening. Alejandra’s knocking brings you both back to reality.

“Excuse me, I’ve sent the recording to your email Mr. Mbappe. We also have about twenty minutes before we open to the public.”

Alejandra then wipes the gel off your stomach and hands you a copy of today’s scans. She tells you when your next appointment is and that they will open their doors a little earlier for you. Your OB thanks you and Kylian for your time and congratulates you. She informs you that the lady who lets you in (her name is Fernanda), will be the one to check you out.

Once you get yourself ready to leave, Kylian turns you around by your waist and hugs you to his chest. When you look up to him, he has a gentle smile on his lips, but eyes are the window to the soul. Through Kylian’s eyes you can see how happy he is. Happier than when he wins the World Cup, happier than when he scores a goal, and happier than when he married you. You can see how much he is looking forward to holding his child in his arms for the first time. You can see how much he is imagining his life as a father. You know that he cannot wait for the near future.

Two and a Half Months Later (Approximately 15 Weeks Pregnant):

Moaning in agony you flush the toilet a third time in a row today. It was the beginning of the month when you started to feel the hormonal changes happening within your body. You started feeling nauseous around certain foods and you catch yourself going into emotional fits (after they are done). Most importantly, your body is rejecting almost everything you put in it. You have been heavily reliant on the prenatal vitamins you have, but those can only do so much. The only foods you can keep down are rice, cucumbers, and eggs (that have to be cooked a certain way or else you throw up).

There was an instance where Kylian was cooking lunch for you two and you threw up due to the smell. It was not even appalling to the normal human nose, but your hormonal body said “no”. So anything Kylian wants to cook something for himself, you have to lock yourself in the bedroom and wait for the main floor to be aired out. This part of your pregnancy, not being able to have a meal with your husband, sucks the most. To try and normalize your change of behavior, you have opted to FaceTime whenever Kylian eats his meals.

“Chérie, j'ai laissé ta bouteille d'eau sur ta table de chevet. Je vais préparer un dîner. Voulez-vous votre habitude?” Kylian calls out, semi-worried. He has sort of adjusted to your pregnancy symptoms, but he still worries about your overall health. Especially when you can only eat three types of foods. He just hopes that your symptoms will die down soon. Honey, I left your water bottle on your nightstand. I'm going to cook dinner. Want your usual?

You groan out a yes before you hurl into the toilet bowl for the nth time today. Who knew that a baby, who is the size of an apple as of right now, can make you barf your guts out so much. After one more round, you feel as if your body has nothing left for you to throw up. Ripping some toilet paper off its roll, you wipe your mouth and flush it down the toilet with the contents of your stomach. You spit into the sink before vigorously brushing your teeth. For good measure, you use extra-minty mouthwash. Satisfied with your clean and minty mouth, you gulp down some water, wincing when the water intensifies your fresh mouth. Knocking on the door, Kylian comes in with your meal in hand. He hands it to you while littering your forehead with kisses.

“Comment vous sentez-vous?“ Kylian asks as he sets the bowl of food on a nearby surface to pull you in a hug. Since you have been sick, you have been losing some weight and that worries Kylian. He asked your OBGYN if they can do anything about your nausea, but they told Kylian that he will just have to wait for it to pass. The prenatal prescribed to you should help alleviate the sickness, but every pregnancy is different. If the clinic upped your prenatal dosages, it may end up causing harm to the baby and you. How do you feel?

Exasperatedly you say, “Like a demon wants to crawl out of me.”

Kylian laughs and plants a kiss on the top of your head before kneeling down to your stomach.

“You’re not even born yet and you’re already causing your mom trouble.” Your husband lightly flicks a random spot on your abdomen. Punishing his child for their wrongdoings. “I’m gonna eat and clean up, okay?”

Not a beat later are you rushing back to the bathroom for another round of hurling.

Three Months Later (Approximately 29 Weeks Pregnant):

You and Kylian knew that you pregnancy can be hidden for so long. Especially when you are shopping for your baby’s arrival. Online shopping is wonderful but when it comes to the big supplies like cribs, strollers, bouncers, and highchairs to name a few, it is best to shop in person. So, Kylian pulled out his celebrity card and called a few shops a week before to ask if they could close their store for a certain time frame. He also hired a bigger than usual security team for the day.

When you and Kylian arrived at the local mall, you were greeted by a group of journalists, photographers, and fans (word gets out quick). To keep face, Kylian smiles at his fans and waves at the reporters. All of which you sort of ignore as your husband told you to do. It takes you two about ten minutes to get to the first store. Not because it is deep inside the mall, but because you had to fight through the crowd. As soon as you entered the store with three security guards, the rest stood in front of the store entrance.

“Regarde ça! Seuls deux de mes doigts peuvent rentrer dedans! Allons s'en approprier!“ Kylian calls out to you while showing you his amazement. Look at this! Only two of my fingers can fit in! Let’s get it!

You take the adorably tiny shoes and look at the tag. “Kylian, these are meant for newborns to four months old. The baby won’t even be able to walk, let alone crawl at that age.”

“Mais bébé ~” Kylian whines. Sternly, you tell your husband “no” and drag him over before he can sneak it to one of the employees. But babe ~

“You still have the list of what we need to buy, right?”

Kylian hums as he pulls out his phone and clicks on the “notes” app. Out of the corner of your eyes you spot something that you just absolutely need to buy. Your pregnant self pushes your husband out of your way as you run towards the item.

“Babe! Look what I found!”

You pull the item off the shelf and proudly show it to your husband (and everyone who is watching from the display windows) with a big grin.

“Oh, come on.” Kylian laughs.

In your hands is a fluffy rug in the shape of a sea turtle. The head is stuffed while the rest of its body is nothing but soft fabric. “It matches the theme of the nursery! We have to get it!”

“But don’t we already have a rug in the nursery?”

“So? The rug can have a rug. You can never have too many rugs.”

“You’re just saying that cause you put rugs in every room you build in the Sims.”

“Yeah so?”

Kylian touches the rug and holds it up in front of him. “It is a cute rug.”

With doe eyes you say, “I know! And we can always use it in the living room for tummy time. It’s multi-purposeful!”

“Tummy time?” Kylian asks confused. He is still learning about baby terminology so something like “tummy time” is still foreign to him.

“Yes. You know, when you put the baby on their stomach for a while.”

“Oh ouais. Pourquoi les gens font-ils ça de toute façon ?” Oh, yeah. Why do people do that anyway?

“It’s to help the baby build their neck muscles. Et si un bébé reste trop longtemps sur le dos, sa tête prendra une forme irrégulière.” You show Kylian a comparitive picture of a baby’s head. One side is a baby that was allowed to have tummy time, and the other shows a baby that was always on their back. And if a baby stays on their back too long, their head will take on an irregular shape.

After Kylian hands the rug to an employee, together you look for a suitable playpen and a portable crib with an attachable changing table. The more you look at the different options for a pen, the more you two agree that you will wait to get one. It will be a while before the baby even starts to crawl. On top of that, where will you put the playpen, and how much will you have to buy?

“We’ll just change them on the ground or the couch. We should get a bouncer instead and have a corner or something for baby supplies.”

The two of you spend a total of four hours at the mall. All of the bigger items that Kylian bought he asked the employees to send them to your home. Smaller items like clothes (and the shoes Kylian dearly wanted) were in the shopping bags in his hand. When you two get home, there is a package on your doorstep. Since your home is privately gated, anytime someone needs to make a delivery, the driver must call either you or Kylian to get the gate open. Happily, you take the box and barge into your own home and run to the dining room table.

Squealing, you take out the cushioning and throw it onto the floor to reveal the handcrafted item. When you hold it up by the top look, you look at the craft in awe. On Etsy you ordered a sea turtle themed mobile. Your heart clenches at the thought of it one day, being the first thing your child sees when they wake up.

“Look Kyky! It’s adorable!”

Your husband smiles as he puts the shopping bags on the table. Kylian stands behind you and holds you close by your waist. Slowly, he starts to say your bodies.

“It’s perfect babe. You did a good job picking it out.”

The mobile has three turtles per your request. Two big sea turtles and one baby right in the middle. The baby turtle is on its back while the parents surround their child. Different shades of blue, felt balls are attached to the top of the strings to make it look like the family of turtles are swimming in the open sea. Kelp and coral hangs from the bottom from various heights. If you look closely, one of the turtles has lashes on it. The mommy turtle: you.

“Le bébé va adorer.” Kylian says. He gently turns your head to the side and softly kisses your lips. Peck after peck he kisses you. Each lasting a second longer than the last. Kylian does not know what was going through your head during today’s shopping trip, but in his, the reality that he is going to be a father is getting closer. Waking up in the random hours of the night is horrible, but getting to hear his baby’s laugh outweighs the con. Becoming the world’s best football player has always been Kylian’s goal in life, but being a father came close. Now, both goals in life are about to come true. The baby will love it.

One Month Later (Approximately 34 Weeks Pregnant):

Humming, you have a finger on your chin thinking about where objects should go. Everything has to be perfect or else you will not be able to sleep. Meanwhile, as you are taking your marry time, your poor husband is standing next to the crib. Awaiting your orders. Kylian is shaking his right leg while he tries to regulate his breathing. He knows how meticulous you are with objects and their assigned places, but damn. Can you please make up your mind? First you wanted the dresser next to the crib but then it seemed cramped. Then you did not want the crib directly in front of any windows cause you are scared the sun might blind your baby. Then Kylian had to keep scootching the rocking chair a little bit further from the corner so when you rock, the back does not hit the wall.

“I think it’ll be easier to put the crib there and the dresser across it. The cubbies can go over here. What do you think Kyky?”

“I think this’ll be the last time I’m moving anything.” Kylian grumbles as he swipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt.

Feeling bad, you cup his cheeks and kiss him. Giving him a couple of pecks in hopes that it will completely erase his annoyance. “I’m sorry. I just want everything to be perfect when the baby comes.”

Kylian sighs and this time, kisses you. His bigger and slightly sweaty hands caress your belly from under your (his) shirt. Your baby has been an active one and definitely takes after their father. Every time the baby kicks your uterus, you want to slap Kylian each time for passing on his genes. The first time Kylian felt the baby’s kick, he would not stop touching your belly in hopes of feeling the baby kick again. Unfortunately for you, whenever the baby kicks, it feels like you have to pee. First you spent all your time in the bathroom throwing up, and now you spend all your time to pee, and sometimes you do not even pee!

“Je sais bébé, mais peux-tu s'il te plait finaliser là où tu veux tout ? Tu me tues ici.” Your husband begs. You happily nod and tell him where to put the furniture, promising him that this is the last time. Taking your word for it, Kylian puts the dresser on the opposite wall of the dresser and the cubbies underneath the window. He makes sure that the rug is nice and centered. You hand him a leveler, and everything is nice and even. Kylian insisted on putting the furniture himself and not hiring people to do it for him. You were a bit iffy since Kylian is not the best with tools, but you did chaperone him. Your dad taught you all about tools when you were growing up, so you are more than experienced in this department. You have to hand it to Kylian, he did a good job once he knew what tool was what. You do have to dock some points because Kylian refused to read the manuals and even wanted to open every pack of screws and bolts at the same time. I know baby, but can you please finalize where you want it all? You are killing me here.

Happily, you thank Kylian with a big kiss on his lips and tell him that you will get him some water. He thanks you and watches you waddle into the hallway to go downstairs. Finally having the time to relax, Kylian sits down on the rocking chair and leans back into it. The more he sits in silence, the more real this room feels. This room is for his baby. His baby that is currently growing in your womb. During the first few months the baby will be sleeping in your shared room, but after that, they will be getting their own room. This room. The one that Kylian had to rearrange four times. He looks at the cart where most of the baby essentials and your breast pump are at. Just two weeks ago you two traveled to America and had your baby shower.

Baby showers are not as popular in Europe as they are in America, and it would be easier for your family if you had the party there. It was a joyous time and with how high strong your hormones were, you did cry a couple of times. While your baby has yet to be born, they are surrounded by love throughout the world (and the internet. Kylian’s fans have been guessing what the name and sex of the baby is). Feeling reality hit him, Kylian wipes his hand over his face as he looks at the crib he struggled to build. His baby will one day sleep there and he or you will have to make your way into this room in the middle of the night for feedings and diaper changes. The dresser will double as a changing table and the cubbies are for the books you were gifted at the baby shower, and for the different knickknacks you two bought.

“You okay?” Your voice and the way you caress his shoulder knocks Kylian out of his daydream. He takes the water and chugs it down before telling you he is fine, kissing the hand on his shoulder.

“Je vais bien. J'ai juste hâte que le bébé arrive.” I'm doing well. I just can't wait for the baby to come.

“Me too.” You whisper. “Now help me get these pictures up, and we’ve gotta set the mobile up. Oh, and help me fold the baby’s clothes. They just finished drying.” You list more to-do’s after another in what Kylian believes is a never ending list.

...Shit...

One Month Later (Approximately 38 Weeks Pregnant):

About a month ago you started your maternity leave. It was great in the beginning since you got to sleep in and do whatever you want, but it got boring soon after since you would be home alone. That only lasted a week though. When you two found out your due date, Kylian had a long meeting with the club’s management department about taking leave for a few months towards the end of your pregnancy. Luckily, they ended up agreeing but it would mean that Kylian’s contract would be extended for a few months to make up for his absence since your baby will arrive during the season.

Kylian bought the large property not just for its privacy, but the yard space it offered. When you two were in a long-distance relationship and things were getting serious, you frequently talked about wanting a large backyard space for your future kids to run around in, and maybe a dog or two. When you two were house hunting, Kylian kept that wish in mind. He even requested the retail agent to only show them houses with a large yard. You two had fun viewing multiple houses and had even more fun re-designing your home. European fridges are small and while you got used to them, you wanted your big, American fridge back. While you mainly focused on the inside of the home, Kylian focused on the outside. The yard space was big enough to have a fully sized football field installed, a pool and a patio with a built-in grill, a bon-fire pit, and more than enough empty space for little kids to run around in. This is truly where Kylian and you will raise your family. If you had to one day move, Kylian may have a hard time selling this place.

While doing the dishes you felt a bit more uncomfortable than usual but brushed it off and focused on getting this pain in the ass food off this plate. Honestly, you feel like SpongeBob that one time he could not get that gunk off the plate at the Krusty Krab. Where could you find a laser and tank without alarming the feds? After you successfully cleaned the plate, you took off the silicone gloves and cleaned off the counter and sink. You then took it upon yourself to sweep the floors and vacuum the rugs and wipe down any dirty surface. You then went into one of the storage closets to get your cleaning bucket to clean the bathrooms. This house has about seven full bathrooms with two half sized bathrooms. Now, you do not plan on cleaning all of them, just the ones that are frequently occupied and inspecting the ones that are not.

When you are satisfied with your handiwork, you check on the laundry that you put in the dryer before you started cleaning. You fold yours and Kylian’s clothes and put them where they belong and go to the bathroom to collect your skincare, shampoo, and conditioner. You place the products in a small bag before mentally checking to see if you need to do anything else before leaving. Your double and even triple check but nothing comes into mind. Bag in hand you go downstairs where Kylian is playing on his PS5 with Hakimi.

“Honey!”

Kylian’s eyes are focused on the screen in front of him while his fingers are busy pressing different buttons in a sequence. “Huh?” he yells out.

“We gotta go.”

Confused, Kylian tells his friend to hold on and takes off his headset. “Go? Where are we going?”

“The hospital, I’m in labor.”

From your perspective, it looks like Kylian’s mind is buffering. Like you can physically see the wheel spinning. The Frenchman quickly throws his headset off and rushes past you to get the car keys.

“C’mon cherie!”

Instead of walking out the open door, you sit on the couch where Kylian was occupied not long ago and put the headset on.

“Hakimi? Hey, it’s nice to talk to you too. Listen, Kylian will have to leave the game because he has to go. The hospital. No, everything’s fine, I’m just in labor. Yeah, it is exciting. I’m a little scared. Thank you! Yeah, I’ll tell him to Facetime you when the baby comes. See ya soon!”

You exit the game and turn the gaming station off and put the controllers and headset away. Getting off the couch was a bit of a struggle since your center of gravity is off, but you managed to do so.

“What are you doing? We need to get to the hospital!” Kylian is absolutely confused at why you have not left the house yet. You are about to have his baby for crying out loud!

“Hold on, Ky. I gotta put the dishes up.”

“What!” Kylian chases after you and tries to coax you to get into the car. “Why are you drying dishes?”

“I can’t come back to a dirty home. What will the baby think?” You justify it like it is the most obvious thing in this world.

“The baby won’t even be able to see!”

“Alright, well I still don’t wanna come back to a dirty home.” You say as you grab a clean rag and dry off the semi-wet dishes while putting them into the cabinets and drawers of the kitchen. “Some women put on their makeup before going to the hospital. This is my equivalent. Now if you want, you can help me out so we can get to the hospital sooner.”

Completely dumbfounded, Kylian shoves the keys into his pocket and grabs a rag. He takes dish after dish off the rack faster than Speedy Gonzales and tosses them wherever they belong.

“Careful! I don’t wanna have to sweep the floor again.”

Huffing, Kylian is a tad bit careful when putting the dishes away while still maintaining his speed. Thanks to his help, the dishes are dried and put away. Kylian tosses the rag on the counter and pulls the keys out of his pants.

“Can we - What are you doing now?”

“Relax hysteria. I’m just putting the rags away so they can dry properly.” As soon as you put the wet rags on the oven handle, Kylian drags you out of the kitchen and towards the car. “Wait! I need to check to make sure nothing else needs to be done!”

Kylian unlocks the door and practically shoves you into the passenger seat and snatches the bag of bathroom products out of your hand and chucks it into the backseat. “Chérie, je me fiche que la maison brûle. Vous êtes en travail. Je t'emmène à l'hôpital.” Honey, I don't care if the house is burning. You are in labor. I'm taking you to the hospital.

You pout while putting your seatbelt on while Kylian does the same. “I don’t get why not. I entered labor while doing the dishes.” You mumble.

“Quoi!“ Kylian shouts.

“Yeah, I felt some contractions while doing the dishes.”

“You finished the dishes like two hours ago!” Kylian swears that his brain is about to explode from how nonchalant you are acting. You mean to tell him that you have been in labor for two hours and did not tell him!

“I know.” You shrug. “I was just following the 411 rule. I had to make sure that the contractions were about four minutes apart, last for a minute, and for the duration for an hour.”

Kylian cannot believe what he is hearing. An “error” sign might as well pop out from behind him. Instead of continuing this argument, Kylian ignites the engine and drives off.

“Wait!” You yell at him. Kylian stomps on the breaks and asks what is wrong, panicking, thinking that the baby is already trying to come out of you right now.

“Did you lock the door?”

Dear God, you are lucky that Kylian loves you or else you would be walking to the hospital.

At the Hospital:

When you two were admitted to the hospital, you were given a private room and a hospital gown to change into. After you got hooked up to different machines and stuck with needles, Kylian left the room to get the duffle bag and the skincare you packed from the car. A couple of days ago you packed one of Kylian’s duffle bags with clothes for you, him, and the baby along with some essentials. When Kylian got to the car, he made sure the car seat was stable before going back to your room. Since you got to the hospital, your contractions got a bit more uncomfortable but not painful. You described it as having to take a solid poop. Your words, not his.

Six Hours Since Arrival:

You ended up getting an epidural when the contractions got worse. Originally, you wanted an as natural birth as possible, but the pain was just too unbearable. You even cried from how bad the pain was. Kylian has never felt worse than he did. He could not do much but just watch and let the nurses do their job. Kylian tried to put on some smoothing music to help you relax but it just annoyed you. All you wanted to do was lay on the hospital in silence. You did not even want to be touched by anyone. When you got the epidural and slept for about half an hour, you felt a lot better and apologized to Kylian.

“It’s fine, babe. You’re about to give birth to our baby. You can practically get away with anything.”

“Then~ Does that mean I can slap you and blame it on labor?” You joke.

Kylian laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. Besides, you’re numb from your waist below so you can’t blame the labor pains.” He kisses you on the lips.

You ask him if he has eaten anything, and he said that he ordered some food from a local restaurant. He ordered it under a pseudonym and asked the staff to watch out for it. Kylian did not want the media to get a whiff of what was happening. The nurse understood and asked her co-worker who is at the front desk to call her when the food arrives. You are a little jealous that your husband gets to eat but you are stuck with crappy jello cups. The doctors said that the clear foods and drinks should minimize complications but all you heard was that bread and rice is off the table.

Echoing in the room is a heartbeat, your baby’s. Your baby is doing fine but you were warned that it will take at least twelve hours for the baby to arrive. Since this is your first birth, it is going to take your body a while to get the hang of things. Currently, you are only four centimeters dilated.

Kylian lays his head on your chest, just at the top of your stomach and caresses the engorged abdomen. Heartstrings tugged; you caress Kylian’s head as you two listens to the beat of your child’s heart. A sound so soothing that both of you fall asleep to it.

Sixteen Hours Since Arrival:

Your legs are propped on stirrups and people are crowded around you. Kylian is by your side to offer his support. Your anesthetic dosage was lessened so you know when to push. You are supposed to push during contractions since it will be easier for the baby to travel down the birth canal. You can only know when to push if you can feel your vagina being ripped in half. When it comes to actually pushing the baby out, you were told to use your core. A popular misconception is that when giving birth, you push like you would when pooping. The truth is that you use the same muscles when giving birth, but the right way to push is by tightening the muscles in your abdomen.

“Está haciendo un gran trabajo, Sra. Mabppe. Puedo ver la cabeza de tu bebé.” You're doing a great job, Mrs. Mabppe. I can see your baby's head.

During your baby shower, your sisters told you to refuse the opportunity to be medically induced. With their experience and the words of their friends, it only makes birthing harder since the body is not naturally ready to deliver the baby. And it should take fewer pushes to deliver the baby.

The doctor wiggles his hands between your vaginal walls and the baby’s head, lightly pulling the baby out. You tighten your core again and the baby’s bloody head is slowly coming out. The doctor encourages you to keep pushing and keeps gently pulling on the baby.

“Tu vas bien, mon amour. Encore quelques essais et nous aurons notre bébé.” Kylian whispers to you as he squeezes your hand. The feeling of excitement and anxiety while playing during the final game of the the World Cup does not compare to the excitement and anxiety Kylian is feeling in this very hospital room. He does not realize it, but his entire body is shaking, and his eyes are dilated from how focused he is on you. You are doing well my love. A few more tries and we'll have our baby.

With his gloved hands, the doctor reaches further inside to turn the baby, so their shoulders are parallel to your vaginal opening. With a good grip and a last push from you, the doctor catches the slippery baby. The doctor turns the baby on their stomach to smack their back to get rid of any remaining amniotic fluids. With a couple of hits, the baby shows the room just how powerful their lungs are.

“¡Él está aquí! ¡Diste a luz a un niño sano!“ The doctor congratulates you as hands your baby to one of the nurses to be cleaned off and examined after Kylian cuts the umbilical cord. A wave of relief washes over you and Kylian when you hear your baby’s cries. This is it. You two are parents. Your baby is born. You take deep breaths as two pairs of eyes are looking at the corner of the room. He is here! You gave birth to a healthy child!

“Aún no hemos terminado.” We’re not done yet.

“¿Eh?“

One Hour Since Birth:

Your baby boy has been laying on your bare chest for about an hour now. An hour full of bliss as you get to finally hold your son after nine long months of waiting. One thing you have learned so far is that your son is a wiggler. He cannot stop moving his body until he deems himself comfortable. He loves to attempt to lift his head, but since he has not built up the necessary muscles, his head falls back onto your chest. It took him a while to stop crying when the nurse laid him down on you. Looking down at his head of black hair, you fall deeper in love with him.

Matthew Mbappe Lottin. Born August XX, XXXX at 6:42 am. A weight of 3.7 kilograms at birth and forty-three centimeters long (about eight pounds and 16-17 inches long).

When you and Kylian were deciding on what to name your son, you agreed to give him an English first name. Matthew has a Spanish and French version of it: Mateo and Mathieu. When your son gets older and is able to absorb more complex concepts, you and Kylian will teach Matthew his alternate names and how to spell them.

Kylian has non-stop been taking pictures and videos of you and Matthew. For some unknown reason, you two have been whispering. The nurses and doctor told you that it would be better to talk in your full voice so the baby can get used to your voices, but you just cannot help yourself. Matthew is just so small and delicate that whispering is a go-to. Kylian sent a picture of Matthew to your families and close friends, letting them know of the joyous day. Ethan was the first to respond since he is usually up around this time. He has been spamming the group chat, demanding Kylian to Facetime him so he can meet his nephew. Your family lives on the east coast so it would be around midnight for them. It will be a while until they start demanding you to Facetime them.

Being the big brother he is, Kylian completely ignores his younger brother’s request and puts his phone on “Do Not Disturb”. Your OBGYN told you that you can give Matthew to Kylian after the first feed. Every ten minutes or so she will pop in to see if your baby is ready to eat. A cue that most babies do when hungry is when they purse their lips.

With your index finger, you repeat the same coos you have been telling your son while caressing his fuzzy and chubby cheeks. “Hey there little fellow. You like to sleep a lot, huh? Just like your dad.” You rub his slightly wrinkly back under the blanket that was placed on you two. One of Kylian’s hand is cupping the back of Matthew’s head while his thumb rubs it.

“He’s so small.”

You jokingly scoff. “You try saying that after pushing him out of your vagina. I felt like I just birth a freaking watermelon.” Kylian laughs at your joke (you were not really joking though. Seriously, your cervix had to open wide enough to birth a damn watermelon).

“Thank God I don’t have a vagina then.” He jokes back.

The nurse peeks her head back in to check on you and the baby. During the birthing process, you lost more blood than the doctor would have liked so they have been keeping an extra eye on you. She peeks over your shoulder and her eyes light up.

“Parece que están listos para alimentarse.” She takes Matthew and asks you to sit up, Kylian aiding you. When you get situated, Matthew is placed in your arms as the nurse starts to massage your breast to stimulate it, preparing it for lactation. She tells you that after this feed, she will show you how to use a breast pump. Bottle-feeding Matthew will show how much he is actually eating. It seems that they are ready to feed. It seems that they are ready to feed.

After feeding and burping Matthew, you asked Kylian if he is ready to hold his son for the first time. Excited, he quickly takes off his shirt and holds his arms out. Laughing, you show him how to hold Matthew, making sure Kylian holds his tiny head up. Kylian awes as he shifts his arms in a more comfortable position. Your husband sits on the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes on his newborn son. This time, you are the one who is taking pictures and videos of Kylian and Matthew.

Kylian holds Matthew close, the baby’s chubby cheek being squished against his father’s chest. You hand the new father a swaddle blanket so Matthew will not get cold. Like second nature, Kylian shifts Matthew, so he is laying vertically on his chest and then drapes the blanket over. In Kylian’s mind, no World Cup is a better prize than holding his child.

Three Months Since Birth:

It has been an absolute blessing to witness Kylian being a father. From the poop explosions to spit ups, Kylian has been there for all of them. He only has a week left before he starts being an active athlete again. So, Kylian is savoring the time he has with you and Matthew. Speaking of Matthew:

“Awe~ You’re just having the best time of your life, huh?” You coo while recording your son.

Contrary to your words, Matthew is not having the time of his life. In fact, he hates this. Tummy time absolutely sucks to him. He wants to be held by his momma and pappa, not laid on his stomach on some green and gray surface. It does feel nice on Matthew’s supple skin though but come on! He wants to be held! Matthew cries and yells while pumping his limbs in the air like a starfish, begging for you to pick him up. You record Matthew for a little longer, before you put your phone away and give the boy what he wants.

You hold him up by his armpits and stand him up on your lap. Happy that he is being held, Matthew bends his legs in an attempt to jump or hop. He shoves his little fingers in his mouth and sucks the life out of them. While singing some nursery rhyme, you lift your son up in the air while making him dance a little.

When Matthew first came home, Kylian took a picture of his little toes and posted it on his Instagram. So many fans and Kylian’s friends congratulated you two on becoming a family. Many of Kylian’s fans have been begging him for more baby content, and sometimes Kylian will indulge them. To keep your family’s privacy, Kylian has not and will not post a picture of Matthew’s face nor will he release the name of his son for a while longer. When Kylian introduced Matthew to the world, he wrote how happy he is to be a father and how well you did and are doing. Kylian never fails to brag about how awesome of a mother and a wife you are.

You yell out to Kylian and ask if he can hand you a burping cloth so you can wipe away Matthew’s drool. Honestly, this kid drools more than a hungry mastiff. Instead of handing you the rag, Kylian picks up Matthew.

“Babeas demasiado, ¿sabes? ¡Mancharás toda tu ropa y no te quedará nada!“ Your husband jokes. Matthew takes his hand out of his mouth and starts to shake them in the air, flicking his drool onto Kylian. You two laugh and while Kylian is cleaning your son up, you get a swaddle blanket ready. It is almost Matthew’s naptime, and he needs to eat beforehand. Kylian loves putting Matthew to sleep. He can see his little boy drift off to dreamland, safe in his arms. The only thing is that Kylian sucks at swaddling Matthew. He swears that it is easier to do a hat-trick than wrapping his baby in a blanket. You drool too much, you know? You will stain all your clothes and you will have nothing left!

You warm up the bottle and when you hand it to Kylian, Matthew immediately reaches for it. He loves holding his bottle, but Matthew does not have the fine motor skills to keep it upright, so you and Kylian have to assist him. As Kylian focuses on feeding Matthew, you focus on watching Kylian. At the beginning of your pregnancy, Kylian wondered if he would be a good father. With his busy schedule and all. You kept reassuring him that he will be a wonderful father to your child, and that he is worrying over nothing. You told him that while it might be hard for Kylian to balance work and family life, you know Kylian will do his best to be the father your child needs him to be. Besides, Kylian has you with him. You will fill in for when Kylian falls short just like how Kylian will fill in for you when you fall short.

In a soft voice you can hear Kylian telling Matthew how much he will miss his son when he goes back to training. Sure, he will only be gone for only a few hours a day, but for those few hours Kylian will be away from his little family. Kylian tells Matthew that during games, he will dedicate two goals to Matthew. Each of the two people Matthew has brought great love to. The rocking motion puts Matthew to sleep. A habit of his that both you and Kylian love is that whenever Matthew sleeps, he likes to pout his lips. Lifting his son up, Kylian gently kisses his son’s pouted lips before putting him down in the bassinet set up in the living room.

Relaxing in the quietness of your home, you and Kylian cuddle on the couch. A good thumb of rule is to try to nap whenever your baby naps. Peck after peck two pairs of lips lightly smack together. After a final kiss from Kylian’s lips, you both try to fall asleep. Like Matthew, you go to sleep knowing that you are safe in Kylian’s arms. Matthew may look like an example of CTRL-C, but you both share the love of feeling protected in Kylian’s embrace.

#kylian mbappe #mbappe x reader #fanfiction #x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #football #mbappé #pure fluff

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okkalo · 1 year

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can u do a drabble/scenario with bllk boys ( nagi, baro, isagi, rin, sae and any other you’d like) where they gift their s/o hand made gifts

like i definitely think kunigami or chigiri would know how to crochet so they’d make their s/o a blanket or book cover

thankyou!! and have a great day!!

hi again!! yes i can do that :) i can definitely see chigiri doing some crochet idk about kunigami though,, he would def learn though!! anyways i hope you enjoy and have a good day!! 🫶

also on my blog scenarios and drabbles are two different things so i’m gonna assume you mean writing with no headcanons;;

characters: nagi, barou, isagi, rin, sae

nagi

honestly, nagi was not one to do crafts. he wasn’t one to do anything at all, really. the only reason he decided to do something is because he saw someone doing origami and the teacher wouldn’t let him sleep. besides, he’s heard you talk about how cute handmade gifts are, so, why not?

he ended up making a cat. a really bad cat. none of it was symmetrical and the face he drew on could give you nightmares. you were careful not to say anything about it when he handed it to you when walking home, knowing this is a once-in-lifetime opportunity.

“you made this for me?” you asked, examining the poorly folded cat. nagi hummed in agreement, hand sliding down to take yours. you made sure to give him a kiss on the cheek as a thanks.

“don’t expect another one,” he mumbled, eyes struggling to stay opened in the bright sunlight.

“i wasn’t expecting another,” you replied, giving him a small squeeze on the hand. he actually might make another one just to get another kiss on the cheek.

barou

the best you’ll get out of barou is him fixing your clothes. he’s never been one for giving gifts, especially one’s that he hand makes. he feels too stupid doing it. he’s always one to give you flowers, just never anything made from him.

however, he will absolutely fix your clothes to how you desire. lost a button? immediately sews it back on. got a rip in your shirt? fixes it like a pro.

he can also make you a piece of clothing if you beg. he would rather not, though. and don’t even think about teasing him for any of this.

you had just gotten out of the shower to retreat back to your room and you were met with the pants you had given up on sitting on your bed. you had been complaining about the button popping off, upset due to losing your favorite pair of jeans. now, suddenly, they were sitting nicely in front of you with a button. you certainly didn’t do that. you know exactly who did though.

“barou? did you fix my pants?” you ask, trudging into the living room to see him wiping down the coffee table. he barely looked up, too focused on the task at hand.

“yeah,” his gruff made you smile, skipping over to sit down next to him. you gave a sweet kiss on his cheek, hugging him afterwards as well.

“thank you.”

isagi

he saw you fanning over people making flowers out of pipe cleaners and decided to give it a go. actually enjoyed it so much that he started making more than he needed. gave you a full size bouquet at the end of the day.

your jaw dropped at the colorful pipe cleaners all bundled together to make a bouquet. you excitedly took the bouquet, flashing your boyfriend a huge smile. “isagi, i love these! did you make them all?”

he sheepishly nodded, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i didn’t realize i made a lot until all the green pipe cleaners were gone.” his confession drew a soft laugh out of you, his cheeks tinting at the sound.

“it’s a perfect amount, thank you,” you drew him in for a kiss, him loving to feeling of your upturned lips against his.

rin

he had to hear nights worth of your gushing over small crochet plushies until he finally decided to try it out. little did he know, he was getting into a lot. absolutely struggled with the hook, muttering cusses every time something didn’t go his way.

rin, however, was not a quitter. he finally finished one, though severely disappointed with how bad it had looked. rin was also a perfectionist to heart. so, he gave it another go, this time paying attention to every small detail. finally, weeks later of hiding his project in drawers you never check, he presented you a small hello kitty plushie.

“oh my god! rin this is adorable! you seriously made this?” you squealed, immediately taking the small plush in both of your hands to examine it.

“yeah,” he spoke nonchalantly, heart secretly jumping in joy seeing you so excited for something he did. you jumped up to give him a big hug, giggling all the while.

“thank you, my sweet boyfriend,” give him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. he loves it when you do it. don’t mind his sigh.

sae

you knew better than to expect a decent gift from the heart from sae. that didn’t stop the leap your heart did once he handed you a piece of paper saying that he drew you. your poor, poor heart.

he drew you alright. just in the worst way possible. at first you wanted to believe he actually tried but was just horrible at drawing, but the more you looked at it the more you could tell he couldn’t have given less of a shit what he drew. he watched your face changes in joy too, seeing how your excited smile turned into a weird squiggle and then to a plain frown.

“sae, you did this on purpose,” you looked up to see his smirk, your heart officially dropping.

“i think i drew you perfectly,” your whine only made him feel better. give him the cold shoulder later and he might just think about apologizing while holding you close.

unedited thanks for reading!

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theback-rooms · 10 months

Text

Okay. I’ve been trying for two days to figure out how to write this post, and I think I’m just going to write it.

You know that tiktok about the girl who felt a draft coming from behind her bathroom mirror and discovered there was an entire empty apartment back there? Well, something like that happened to me on Tuesday night, and it’s even weirder.

I was cleaning out my closet, because the place looks like a bomb went off and there’s no room to stuff anything else into it. So I was pulling things out, absolutely surrounded by boxes of clothes that don’t fit me anymore but might fit me sometime and hats that I bought and never wear and a million finished and half-finished crochet projects... and I realized that there is a piece of plywood on the side wall of my closet that I’ve never really noticed before. At my parents’ house there was a similar piece of plywood in the coat closet, because it’s the entrance to the stairs to the attic, which doesn’t have a floor, just bare joists. This one seemed to be barred in place with a piece of two-by-four on a nail, just like at my parents’ house, so I turned it, and sure enough, I could pull off the board.

Folks. FOLKS. There’s a stairway. A stairway that goes down and then begins to curve and disappears into the darkness. And here’s the part where it gets REALLY weird. Because I know for a fact that that side of my closet is an outside wall. If you go outside and look up, you can see that just a foot or two past my bedroom window is the end of the apartment building. There is no space for this stairway to BE.

I really don’t know what to do. Even with the board back in place, it’s creeping me out having that door inside my closet: every time I go to bed at night I imagine someone creeping up that stairway from god-knows-where and--I don’t know, stabbing me in my sleep?? What do you think I should do?

My ask box is open, and you can leave comments in the notes. I don’t have any followers on this blog yet, so I’m hoping somebody will see this post who will have good suggestions for me?

#tw unreality #fantasy #weird #wtf #magic

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cookie-crumblr · 11 months

Text

AU’s With Alastair~

Animal hybrid AU

Part 1

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: F! reader/reader has a vagina, NSFW, reader and allie are owned by a human, treated like animals, heat, non human genitalia(he has a barbed cock), lactation kink, loss of consciousness, breeding kink, creampie, biting,

!!MINORS DNI!!

You were born to a cute cow lady, and Alastair to a gorgeous feline. It all seemed completely meant to be, as you came to be at the same time.

At least he saw it that way.

You and him grew up always by each others sides’ on a farm in the countryside, far away from anything else.

His mom abandoned him with his little sister and brother, which you don’t think is uncommon for cat folk.

But you bet it would be hard for anyone, let alone a small child that now has to care for two other children with only himself.

You are both older now.

Once your respective cycles started, you had to start taking short breaks from each other.

And now you’re old enough to “work” on the farm like the other hucow ladies…

“Alright girl, you’ll have to settle with a bull eventually,” The farmer spoke a little agitatedly or maybe just tiredly, either way your heart wracked intensely with guilt.

Today had felt so painfully long.

The farmer brought bull hybrids in from all across the country to court you…

Your big eyes stay downcast, wetness clumping your pretty lashes. “I know… ‘m sorry sir, I jus’… Don’t love any of them proper.”

The farmer lets out a long sigh, “Get some rest, Y/N”

Neither you nor the farmer were aware of Alastair watching from the second story window of the bright red barn.

“That stupid farmer.” His ear flicks irritatedly as he thinks. “only caring about production, and not for Y/N at all…” His fists ball while burning holes into the side of the farmer’s head with his stare. “Why’s it gotta be a bull anyway?” He wonders.

Has a hybrid of another species been able to impregnate another hybrid before?

He’s absolutely sure it’s possible.

If not, he’ll make it possible.

Besides, nobody loves you more than he does.

A breeze passes through your hair, and flows all the way up to Allie. Ears now perked up and swiveled all the way toward you, he can smell your heat coming.

That’s probably why the farmer is in such a rush to get you mated.

Alastair has always stayed away from you while you both were on your cycles, for fear of ruining what you have together.

This time he can’t.

Tomorrow he’ll stay with you.

Another evening comes and Alastair finds you whining and writhing in your stable, you’re clearly burning up and desperate.

Face shining with sweat, with barely any clothes on, and the fabric that does try and cover you, is instead stuck to your skin, showing him your peaked nipples and your puffy, glistening lips through it.

He stops in his tracks, mouth agape, his tiny fangs peaking out from behind his lips.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting.

But god, it wasn’t this…

He thought he was ready.

His shorts are feeling uncomfortably tighter.

You notice him as he swallows.

“Allie! uhm….” You start to cover up with a jean jacket, and he rushes over to you.

“Y/N, it’s… *ahem*… It’s okay! I’m actually here to help!”

“Allie…” Tears stain your cheeks. You get on your knees and present to him, “Then… Please, help me.”

A harsh swallow bobs his addams apple, making his choker shift.

He’s ready.

He takes his claws to your shorts and rips right through them, the freedom, and chill of the air sends shivers through your body.

He untied the silk ribbon he uses as a belt, and undid his shorts.

Next his crochet sweater was discarded to the hay covered ground.

“Wait, Y/N… I-wanttofaceyou…”

You oblige, thinking he’s adorable, and roll over, legs spread, inviting him in.

You’re breathing heavily.

He lifts your top exposing your chest.

Then he leans down to literally kitten lick your nipple, and gently flicks the other one, taking turns for both without leaving the other.

The effect is maddening.

You’re whimpering and throwing your head this way and that. Little “pleases” and “oh my goodnesses” falling from your part lips.

He smiles at this, getting the exact reactions he’s always imagined from you. His perfect beloved.

Dick now taken in his hand, he slaps your puffy cunt, before rubbing it down.

Something kind of stings as he drags down, but it’s so hot and hard it feels like everything you need right now.

“Please, Alastair… I want you inside me… I… really do love you.” You say desperation, and truth seeping from your words.

He almost breaks hearing those four words at the end, but he sets that aside for after, when he can just cuddle you. And tell you how much he’s always loved you.

His tip slides into your desperately wet hole, opening you further.

“Ahhh” You shudder as you begin to feel that which your body craves.

He slowly bottoms out, and stays there, feeling you pulse around him. His head becoming light.

He has to move.

He pulls out quick to snap him back in control of himself.

“AHHH!” You barely make out the scream as your own voice as you black out in an instant. Sharp pain and harsh, hot pleasure zapping through your insides at the same time as if a lightning bolt came down and smited you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Oh no, oh fuck, oh god” Alastair babbles as he accidentally slides back into you, to meet his face to yours.

He cradles you, his body smaller than yours, but he’s always been way stronger than he appears.

“Y/N…”

You come to only seconds later, your body burning hotter than before, you gasp, and pant.

“Allie? what… happened…”

“I didn’t think….” he’s crying into your neck. “I-I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t of-”

“It felt so good…”

“What?” His cheeks reddened. “I mean, are you sure?”

Ending his thought you brought his face down to yours for a kiss. He rocked deeper into you In response.

You felt that familiar drag, as he rocked back slightly, before jamming himself in all the way.

“You like that? You want me to plow into you?” His demeanor completely changed in a split second. “Say Squishmallow if you want me to stop.” He leans in to whisper, and then kisses your neck.

You nod enthusiastically.

His hand finds your tit, when he looks down suddenly. “Wait, Y/N! Look! You really don’t need a bull!” he holds his now wet hand up.

You shift to look down and sure enough you’re lactating!

He hurries to shove one in his mouth and begins to suck, and lick as he paws at the fatty part. This is your first time being milked, and it’s your best friend!

It feels heavenly.

his tongue doing laps around you.

You cry out, “Alastair!” followed by a series of “Oh”’s

He starts pushing as deep as he can go into you.

He pulls out slow this time, as he does the pleasure mixes with pain and you feel yourself producing more and more milk, it’s building up so fast in the one he’s neglecting.

“Please! hah! swap!” You moan exasperated.

He releases with a hearty *pop!* And quickly switches to your other breast, not leaving the other one defenseless this time, he squeezes and rubs circles around your nipple.

“Your milk tastes so good, Y/N, this farm is so lucky!” his eyes are clouded over now with lust.

He’s all the way out of you again, and he slams back in with all of his might causing you to bounce.

“Ahh!” You’re almost shaking it feels so good! “M-More!” you moan.

He obliges and pulls out not as slow, but still slow enough you don’t pass out again. Then he sets the pace for the session.

Slamming into you over and over again, your legs and hips folding more and more each time so he can get impossibly deeper.

He’s purring now, vibrating your sensitive buds as he alternates and sucks on each one, never leaving either unattended.

His skin is slamming against yours, and you swear at this point you feel him hitting your cervix.

You need his cum so badly, your body burns with this sole desire as you’re becoming so overstimulated.

You’re sure you’re babbling nonsense at this point but he continues to pound you as if he has no other purpose but to breed you right here, right now.

“Are you close?”

“Yesh,” you let out a breathy slur, mind hazy and floating with the stars above.

He pounds impossibly harder, rocking your bodies into the wooden wall of the stable.

You hold on for dear life as you come undone around his cock.

Seconds later with one final thrust and he’s shooting thick, hot ropes into you. You feel so full and your temperature starts to decrease back to normal instantly.

You squeeze him, as he lets go of your chest with another satisfied *pop*

“I love you, Allie…”

“I love you too, Y/N, so freaking much.”

He stays inside you as he readjusts to cuddle on top of you, limbs tangled, and both of you breathing heavily.

A little too soon later and the farmer is walking in, he doesn’t give you even a chance to hide Alastair, before spying you both.

“What is this?!”

“Sorry sir!” You sit up, tipping Allie off of you

“Woah!” He exclaims, as he slips, sliding out of you, his cum leaking onto the floor.

“AH!” You squeal from his exit, as milk sprays from your still engorged tits.

The farmer’s eyes widen, “Well… I can’t really complain with this outcome.” He takes his hat off to scratch his balding head. “Well Alastair, looks like you officially work for me now, specifically with Y/N.” he turns to leave mumbling, “if it works, it works i guess… How come i ain’t never thought of cat folk?”

You both giggle, before your temp starts to rise again.

“Allie! Help?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he folds you over yourself again, and slips in easier this time.

“Oh, you’re perfectly prepped from last round… Remember the safe word?”

“mmhmm!”

This time he bends over to your neck and bites you as he pulls out. It hurts in both places, but it feels so good, like an electric shock going straight through your body to your core.

He’s back to purring loudly as he starts to slam back into your abused and throbbing pussy.

You both come quicker this time, your moans and his mewls becoming one mini orchestra to your fuzzy ears.

His tail swishing with his motions, and yours sticking straight out, as tensed as your curled toes.

You feel his hot cum filling you up for the second time, you can tell it’s even more this time, and your own orgasm milks him for everything he’s worth.

This time after, you both drift off into a comfortable sleep, while holding eachother close as possible.

When you wake again, you’ll still have eachother, and you’ll be together for whatever comes next…

#my oc #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere #my fic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #femboy x reader #femboy oc #femboy vampire #reader x femboy #femboy #femboy cat hybrid #cat boy #hucow reader #oc alastair

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arealphrooblem · 10 months

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Kidnapped by the Boss Part 4

Sorry for the wait but surgery went well and I'm back!

Part one here

Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

I’ll take it under consideration he said. That was not a guarantee or even a promise. It was nothing. A deep paranoia settled in her bones. It chased her throughout the day and haunted her at night. No matter how still and quiet the room was, she felt watched. It made using the bathroom or taking a shower the most terrifying and nerve wracking experience of her life. She chased shadows in the room like a lunatic before she deemed it safe enough, but even then she never felt entirely alone.

And she was, on the surface. Servants delivered food, books, even a basket of yarn and crochet needles (strange that the Prime Min — the King remembered that silly detail of her life) and then disappeared. Neither the driver or the King made an appearance. It was if she was a toy stowed away in an attic and forgotten all about. It was infuriating, as was her restricted access to news, television, newspapers, anything to do with the world outside this room.

But the paranoia was worse. She didn’t sleep. She barely ate. She couldn’t read or crochet without having to get up and pace, like a lion in a zoo cage, strategizing for escape plans she didn’t dare enact for fear of her invisible guard.

By the time the driver did show up, in lieu of the servants who normally served her breakfast, Civilian’s sanity was in tatters. She must have looked insane because he set down the tray immediately and took hurried steps towards her. Panic jerked her backwards, stumbling over the coffee table leg until her back hit the wall. He followed after her, brow furrowed in a mockery of concern.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled as he lifted his hand up.

He ignored her, pressing the back of his palm to her forehead. She slapped it away, glaring fiercely.

“What has gotten into you?” he demanded.

“As if you don’t know! As if you haven’t been skulking around here just so I can go insane from feeling watched all the time!”

“Skulking?” he barked out a laugh. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Just following you around invisible all day? Like I have nothing better to do?”

Anger ignited, burning up her panic like kerosene. She shoved him with all the force she could muster, sending him stumbling back.

“And how would I know that you’re not? How am I ever supposed to know I’m actually alone when I shower or sleep? You could attack me at any moment and I would never see it! I’ve lived with that fear for days and it's not funny!”

She was yelling by the end of it, her voice ringing in the empty room. The driver looked bewildered in the face of it and she was too angry to be satisfied with it. Her throat tightened with tears of fury and she desperately bit the back. She refused to cry in front of him.

For a long moment the driver studied her, his face carefully neutral and impassive, as she struggled to get her breathing back in check. Then he rose his hands up, palms out, in surrender.

“I have not been here since you last saw me,” he said slowly. “You have been alone this entire time.”

“You expect me to take you at your word that that’s true?” she asked. Even still, the tension in her shoulders relaxed.

“No. It would be stupid to trust me. But my king — for whatever reason — is very fond of you. He entrusts your protection to me and he didn’t do it so I could psychologically torment you. If you can’t trust my word, then trust his.”

She snorted. “He’s so fond of me that he locks me away in this room like a doll and never speaks to me.”

“We’ve been a little busy,” the driver snapped. “Plans that have been in place for years are finally moving forward. You were not supposed to be here.”

A pit started forming in her stomach. “What plans?”

“An excellent question. One you can ask the king. Today.”

She stared at him. “Today? Today? When?”

“Now. That’s why I’m here — to escort you.” He said this last part with a twist of bitterness, as if such a task lay beneath his skill set. Which it probably did.

“I can’t go now.” New panic flared up. “I’m not ready!”

He laughed again. “Why not — are you busy? Come on.”

She looked down at her rumpled shirt and leggings. The servants had brought her soft, stretchy clothes that didn’t need exact sizing. “But I look —“

“—Like shit?” he finished. “Yeah. That’s what you get when you don’t sleep or eat. He has breakfast waiting and you can take a nap after.”

“If he’s the king, don’t I need to look presentable?”

“If you were anybody else. With you he doesn’t care. What he does care about is punctuality. So let’s go.”

With a firm hand on the small of her back, the driver guided her out firmly from the bedroom. Civilian smoothed her shirt out as best she could and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. While she had seen the King in robe and pajamas many times, he had never seen her in anything less than perfect professionalism.

The halls of the palace were old and ornate, with lush carpet and intricate crown molding and silk wallpaper. It shared few similarities with the sleek modern buildings of her parliament. Save for her clothes, Civilian felt like she’d stepped inside a fairy tale.

The driver led her through a confusing route of sharp turns and side doors and little staircases, keeping the layout of the castle a complete maze despite her trying desperately to remember her bearings. Finally they passed through a door that led her out into a walled garden.

Flowers in red, gold, and purple bloomed everywhere in immaculately manicured beds. Underneath a huge tree, a table was set up with three chairs and a generous breakfast spread. The King sat, spreading jam on a scone. To her relief he was dressed in soft pants and a sleep shirt. His hair looked slightly rumpled on one side and her heart squeezed at the painful familiarity of it all.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully, as if she had just stepped into his hotel room to badger him into getting dressed. Like she had done so many times.

Her feet dug into the ground, out of instinct, afraid of this mockery of their past relationship. The driver spread his hand over the middle of her back, thumb digging in the muscle as a warning. She walked to an empty chair and sat down, inwardly fuming.

The King’s happy grin faded as he took a closer look at her. Lines furrowed on his forehead and his eyes flickered over to the driver, his gaze suddenly cold and terrifying.

“It’s been handled,” the driver murmured, looking impressively stoic underneath that gaze.

When the King turned back towards her, his expression smoothed out into the warmth she was accustomed to. It hurt to know that it wasn’t real, that he thought he could fool her by wearing the same mask he did as prime minister. She channeled the driver’s apathy in her own gaze.

“Are you hungry? I have all your favorites,” the King said, gesturing to the table.

Her stomach growled, her hunger suddenly ravenous. But she clenched her fists in her lap and resisted.

“What do you want?” she asked instead.

“For you to eat. There’s peach marmalade, soft boiled eggs, avocado, sourdough. Scones.”

He took a bite out of his rather pointedly. She crossed her arms and glared just as pointedly. Hiding under her panic and fear and exhaustion was the steel backbone that made her hustle the Prime Minister to his meetings and events when he got distracted by every phone and television in his vicinity.

“I’m not going to be fooled with this fake version of yourself just because it's familiar. I’m not playing games, sir.”

He said nothing, turning his attention to spreading avocado on a slice of sourdough toast. Then he put it on a plate and held it up to her across the table. The gentle kindness from his eyes slid away, replaced with a stubborn, firm gaze.

“I’m not playing games either, Civilian. You’re not well and you’re going to fall ill so you are going to eat this before we discuss your future. Is that clear?”

Never had Civilian seen him so assertive. The Prime Minister phrased commands as requests and backed them up with a smile and doe eyes that few found easy to deny. Now those dark eyes looked at her with the command of a predator.

She dared a glance to the driver, who flickered his eyes to the plate as if to say, I’d eat if I were you.

Civilian snatched the plate from the King and took one muleish bite. It was delicious. Of course it was. As basic as it made her sound, she loved simple salted avocado on toast. She didn’t want to eat because she thought it would be horrible. But the list of things she had control over grew shorter and shorter each day.

Like the clouds breaking on a dark day, the warmth came back to the King’s eyes. “Good girl. You’ll need your strength so keep eating. Meanwhile, I feel like I should start this with an apology.”

Civilian almost choked on her toast.

“I had no intention of leaving you in that room for four days. I can see the toll it has taken on you.” Once again, his gaze flickered to the driver, as if laying the blame at his feet. “You were a . . .surprise in our plans. And once we had put them into motion we couldn’t stop until certain things were done. I put you someplace safe and out of the way. I should have checked up on you sooner.”

“I’m fine,” she bit out. “I don’t need you to check up on me. I need you to take me home.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “As usual, your definition and my definition of fine vastly differs. But getting you home . . . that can certainly be arranged. However, I need you to make an informed decision and you have missed some crucial developments during your detainment.”

Her heart rose and crashed. Hope hung on a terrifyingly delicate thread.

"What crucial developments," she asked, a pit forming in her stomach.

The King leaned back in his chair, his gaze narrowed and business-like.

"First, we must establish that, due to your stubborn recklessness, your absence is tied to mine. In the eyes of your country, our ambitions, decisions, and loyalties are tied together."

Your country. As if he hadn't helped to run it for the last five years. As if he had no connection or loyalty to a place he had defended and cared for. It chilled her.

"What does that matter?" she asked. "We were always viewed like that. I worked for you."

Worked. Past tense. She realizes that technically she's out of a job now. Does this situation even qualify for unemployment?

"Yes, that's true. And that relationship will be to your detriment when I invade your country."

The words didn't make sense at first, almost as if her brain refused to process it. And then when the meaning became undeniable, it felt like he had sucked the air from the courtyard. The King continued on, either oblivious to her shock or ignoring it.

"I imagine they will pull you in for questioning when you first return and then arrest you when I invade. You can protest your innocence as much as you like, but I doubt they'd believe you. You ran straight to me during the attack at the summit, after all. They will think you a treasonous spy and they will imprison you indefinitely if you're lucky and execute you if you're not. After all, your absence thus far looks terribly guilty."

The sounds of the garden faded as a dull roar thundered in her ears. All the pieces started convalescing together and it made her feel faint.

"You did this on purpose," she said, head swimming. "You kept me here long enough to make me look like a traitor so I can't go back."

"Of course you can go back, Civilian. I'm not going to force you to stay here."

"Would you let me leave and tell everyone your plans?"

He smirked. "And what are my plans? What details could you give away? You know nothing and you have no proof."

The truth of that hit her like a kick to the chest. He made sure to imprison her in every way that counts. Suddenly her throat felt tight and breath came in light and restricted. The King cocked his head to the side, brow furrowed. His gaze flickered to the driver.

"Civilian looks ill. Perhaps you should take her back to her quarters."

He sounded muffled and far away. The driver guided her out of the chair and she let him, feeling dazed and dizzy. The walk back to her quarters passed in a hazy blur. She was grateful for the firm and guiding hand on her back through the maze of corridors. Just as she was grateful for the shut of the door behind her when she finally made it.

Civilian collapsed to her knees on the lush carpet and sobbed, uncaring of any invisible watchers.

Part five here

Taglist: @rivalriotrenegade @sunyside-world @fishtale88 @those-damn-snippets @suspiciousmuffin @thats-alittle-gay @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars

#hero x villain #heroine x villain #my writing #enemies to lovers #kidnapped by the boss #villain x civilian #fantasci tumblr #writeblr

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

Text

the nanny diaries ~ jjk

summary: you're ready to relax with a quiet valentine's night in until your son has different plans for you and jungkook.

✨ title: the nanny diaries (drabble series) | the wish list ✨ pairing: jungkook x single mom!reader ✨ word count: 2.0k |✨ genre: fluff, cute |✨ rating: g ✨ warnings: a sassy 4yo (nothing new here), ha joon gets upset, reader gets caught by jk in an oversized pajama shirt with no bottoms ✨ a/n: idk where this drabble came from but here it is!

[ DRABBLES MASTERLIST ]

You stayed up the night before hand-crafting twenty-five Valentine’s Day cards. Ha Joon’s teacher was adamant about each card being ‘filled with love from the heart.’ You weren’t going to argue because you had been lacking in your volunteer hours, and this was your way of making up for it. The dinner table was covered with glitter, foam rainbows, and googly eyes (Ha Joon’s choice, not yours). Your child really was his own person, and it was fun to see him come into that.

In the morning, Ha Joon shuffled into your room, grabbed a hold of your duvet, and pulled it off you, causing you to groan at the cold air hitting your bare legs.

“Mommy–I can’t find my pink hat.”

“Mm. Pink hat? The Kirby one?” you asked, your opened eyes still half asleep. Ha Joon shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you up. “Okay, okay. I’m up. I’m getting up.”

You propped yourself up, narrowing your eyes at the little man before you. “Ha Joon-ah, did you get dressed by yourself?” He wore a pair of black sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a green shacket. You had to give to the kid; he had style.

“Mommy!”

“Yes, baby. What?”

“My hat!”

“Oh, right.” You shook your head. Kirby hat, Kirby hat. Where could it be? Where had you seen it last? “Oh! I know where it is!” You quickly stood, running into the living room.

“Morning–”

You yelped, jolting your body back from the familiar voice, then you realized you were only wearing a pajama shirt, undies, and fuzzy socks. “Ah–Jeez,” you cleared your throat. “Morning, Jungkook. I wasn’t expecting you so early.” You flashed a smile, trying to be nonchalant while covering up your chest. February in Seoul was freezing, but you didn’t like going to bed with pants on, so this was your normal getup. Maybe it was time to start thinking of a new set of sleepwear.

“Cute…” he gave you the once-over. “...jammies.” Jungkook snickered at the shirt that said, ‘let me sleep.’ “I texted, saying I was coming over since I had an early day at the gym, but I guess you hadn’t seen the message yet.”

“Sorry, yes. I just woke up because I was up late last night finishing up Ha Joon’s Valentine’s cards.”

Jungkook had become accustomed to you and Ha Joon, making himself at home when he was over. He slurped the last of his cereal before speaking, “They look great, by the way. You have a real knack for glitter and googly eyes.”

You rolled your eyes because he was just being nice. You sucked at anything crafty. While other moms got to stay home and learn new hobbies, you worked to provide for yourself and Ha Joon. Once you tried crocheting, and it was bad all around because you had such a hard time following the patterns, so you gave up, but gluing and glitter—piece of cake, or so you thought.

You beamed a thin smile and blinked at him. “We haven’t known each other for that long, but I think I know when you’re lying.”

Jungkook laughed. “I’m not lying,” he said as he stood, heading over to the kitchen sink and setting down his bowl. “It’s cute, and I’m sure all the kids in his class will love it.”

That Jeon Jungkook was a sweet talker, alright, but you knew what looked good and what didn’t.

“Mommy,” Ha Joon walked in on the conversation, “did you find it?”

Ah, right, that’s what you were doing before Jungkook took you by surprise. You looked around the room, searching for the neon pink hat. “Found it!” you exclaimed, running over to the basket of toys in the corner. You picked it up, waving it in your hand.

Ha Joon squealed in excitement, running toward you. “I have my something pink for Valentine’s Day. What about you, mommy? You’re going to wear pink, right?”

Did you even own anything in the color pink? You were mentally going through your closet. “I have a red dress. Can I wear that?” You looked at Jungkook and realized he was wearing a pink denim overshirt, white tee, and pink cargo pants. You guessed Ha Joon made sure he got the Valentine’s Day dress code memo.

Ha Joon shrugged. “I’ll let you wear red.”

You scoffed. “Let me?”

“Yes, mommy!” he uttered, placing the hat on his head. “Jungkookie and I have to go to school now,” he huffed, grabbing his backpack and Jungkook’s hand.

Jungkook mouthed, ‘I’ll see you later,’ as he was being dragged away by the four-year-old.

It was nearly time for Ha Joon and Jungkook to return from school. You figured you’d order in dinner, have some dessert, give Ha Joon and bath, put him to bed, then you could wind down with some red wine. It was the perfect plan to end Valentine’s Day.

That is until Ha Joon handed you a piece of paper in his cute little handwriting titled, ‘Wish List.’ You figured Jungkook helped him with the spelling unless your child was a genius.

“What’s this, baby?”

“It’s my wish list. It’s what I want to do for Valentine’s Day.” Ha Joon looked at Jungkook, grabbing him by the hand and making him sit at the dinner table.

Jungkook grinned. “Little man knows how to plan a date.”

You glanced over the list: dinner, dessert, painting, and hide and seek. “Oh, baby. This is so sweet. I love this list. What should we get for dinner?”

“No, mommy. I’m going to cook.”

“You are?” You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms at your peculiar child. “What are you going to cook?”

“It’s a surprise for you and Jungkookie.”

You turned to Jungkook. “Oh, my love. What if Jungkook has plans? What if he’s going out tonight with someone special?”

Ha Joon shook his head. “He’s not doing anything. I already asked, and he said yes. Right, Jungkookie? You’ll stay?”

“Jungkook, if you have things to do, please, by all means, don’t feel obligated to stay. I’m sure you have better things to do than spend Valentine’s Day with us.”

He beamed a grin at Ha Joon, ruffling his hair. “Nah–I promised little man I’d stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You and Jungkook put on the biggest fake smiles as you stared at one another across the table. The two of you watched Ha Joon prepare dinner and of course, he wouldn’t let anyone help him. You cringed when he dropped a piece of chocolate into the milk, swirling it around with a spoon. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you normally use chocolate syrup to make his favorite drink. But Ha Joon was so proud as he set down the bowls of Mac and cheese and chocolate milk.

“Bon appetit,” he announced with the biggest grin you’d seen. He took a bow before grabbing his usual bowl and a plastic cup of chocolate milk.

“Joon-ah.”

“Yes, mommy?”

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to eat with us?”

“I’m going to eat in my room. This dinner is for you and Jungkook.”

With your mouth agape, you couldn’t believe that you were tricked by your own four-year-old. You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking down at the table before peering up at Jungkook. “Is this—a date?”

Jungkook had a closed-lip smile. “Looks like it.”

You were mortified and weren’t sure what to do at this point. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I have no idea what has gotten into him. Again, please feel free to leave. I’m definitely not paying you enough for doing stuff like this.”

Jungkook laughed. “You know I love spending time with you guys, right? This is better than sitting at home by myself, which is what I would’ve been doing anyway.”

It was hard to believe that someone who looked like Jungkook didn’t have any kind of plans for Valentine’s or maybe he just didn’t like the corporate made holiday. Either way, you felt bad for him hanging out with the two of you while he wasn’t on the clock.

“Well, thanks for um, indulging in Ha Joon’s shenanigans.”

“I’m always a willing participant.”

After dinner, came dessert which was popsicles, then painting. You thoroughly enjoyed painting because the thought was very cute and you just loved how Ha Joon’s mind worked. He made everyone paint each other how they saw the other person.

Ha Joon sneaked a glance at Jungkook’s painting. “Hey—you’re cheating.”

Jungkook moved the painting away from him. “I’m not cheating.”

“Yeah! You drew me and mommy. You were only supposed to paint mommy.”

He sighs. “Okay—I’m sorry I cheated but I wanted to paint both of you.”

“I wanna see.”

Jungkook turned his painting back toward you. It was a simple portrait of you and Ha Joon. He was sitting in your lap as your chin rested on top of his head, the two of you peering off to the side. Was there anything Jungkook wasn’t good at?

“It’s—” You were speechless. “Beautiful, Jungkook. Thank you.”

He handed the painting to you, so you could further explore the details of it.

“Okay, now that we are done with painting. It’s time for hide and seek.”

You set the painting down, turning to Ha Joon. “Baby, it’s getting late. How about we play hide and seek another time, hmm? I still have to give you a bath.”

“But mommy—” he pouted, crossing his arms as he turned away from you.

“Ha Joon-ah, we can play next time I come to watch you, okay? We gotta get you off to bed soon, bud.”

He stood up, stomping his way to his room, slamming the door behind him. Your eyes widened at how upset he was. If there was more time in the day, then of course you’d play but you were sure that Jungkook wanted to get home as well.

“Joon-ah!”

Jungkook reached for your arm. “Hey—I got this.”

You were used to being the bad guy, but you were also thankful Jungkook was around to ease the tension. You watched him head to Ha Joon’s room. There were nothing but mere whispers and then an anguished cry from Ha Joon.

Immediately, you ran into the room. Jungkook stood to give the two of you some space to talk. You kneeled next to Ha Joon’s bed. His head was buried in between his forearms which were resting on his knees.

“Sweetheart, what if I take the day off tomorrow and we can play hide and seek all day?”

Ha Joon’s teary, glazed eyes looked up at you. “Really?”

You hummed and smiled. The innocence this little person carried made your heart melt. It didn’t take much for him to be happy, and you had an inkling feeling about why he had been so upset. You had been working late hours again and didn’t have time to give him. Maybe that’s why he suggested his wish list tonight.

Ha Joon finally came to an agreement with you before you set him off to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. His bath will just wait until tomorrow.

You ruffled his hair when he came running back to his room. He yelled 'good night,' to Jungkook before he turned off the light.

Jungkook was always a great sport with Ha Joon. You weren't sure how you got so lucky with such a great nanny like him. Regardless, you were glad he was in your life.

He stood when he saw you approaching, and pocketed his phone into his pink pants. "Everything okay?" You nodded. "Good," the corners of his mouth curved up. "I should get going." He walked to the entryway, slipping his shoes on.

"Jungkook?" He hummed while looking up. "Thanks for indulging in Ha Joon's little wish list."

He laughed. "I'm happy to make dreams come true for little man," he said, opening the door.

You held the door, watching him leave, but he stopped and returned. "Did you forget something?"

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you repeated.

"You look nice in red. You should wear it more often."

You grinned, shaking your head. "Goodnight Jungkook."

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #fic: the nanny diaries #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook cute #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff

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