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redbullgirly · 3 months

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Million Dollar Man [LS18 smau]

Lance Stroll x reader [social media au]

Masterlist

Summary: Lance's girlfriend isn't afraid to show how much her boyfriend loves and spoils her. Unfortunately, "fans" seem to think she's a gold digger. But who would Lance and Y/N bee if they just let it slide?

Warnings: A lot of hate towards the reader by online trolls and just toxic fans, at the end she and Lance shuts them up but if you're not in the right head-space to read this, then please don't.

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartin and 192,344 others

tagged: astonmartin and lance_stroll

yourusername life lately... how about you? 🍰💐

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user1 more like: life lately 💸💸💸

user2 LOL

lance_stroll life lately has been great ❤️

liked by the author

user3 Lance don't worry we're going to save you!!

user4 our guy is lyinggggg i can feel it

user5 Oh my god let them live a happy life you trolls🤦‍♀️

user6 how can you know it's happy when she clearly uses him for money?🤨

user5 And how can you know it's not? Besides I don't think she uses him for anything🤷‍♀️

user4 then your just as naive as him user5 lol

user7 she's so classy a love it!😻

user8 Can she even drive or she just wanted to take a photo in his car?

fernandoalo_oficial You are slaying Queen!😉

fernandoalo_oficial Did I do it correctly yourusername?

yourusername it's great nando, just please never use that emoji again and you'll be ready do graduate from my gen-z university!

fernandoalo_oficial Damn it I knew all you use these days is this one: 💀

yourusername 💀

user9 OKAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER AND LANCE CAUSE I LOVE Y/N AND NANDO INTERACTIONS MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE!!

user10 i'm convinced she holds both aston drivers hostage in her basement and is forcing them to comment on her posts

user11 It's probably not even her own basement but Lance's😭

user12 nah she ain't even that pretty

user13 omg no way this post is the way I found out lance mf stroll has a girlfriend?🤠

user14 GIRL you have so much lore to catch up on

user15 Yeah welcome to the worst wag ever fandom xd

user13 wait I'm so confused... why do we hate her???

user14 bc she's basically a gold digger, like from the moment her and lance started dating she's been posting only about shopping and showing off herself and her bf's money

user12 plus she ugly af

user15 Yeah and there are rumors on twitter about her being really mean to everyone and that the whole paddock hates her and stuff...

user13 okay I get that but tbh we can't believe everything that's on f1 twitter

user14 idc she's a bitch even without the rumors

user15 I can tell Y/N is trying so hard to have the rich girly aesthetic... it's actually embarrassing😂

astonmartin Wow you have a great car right there😍

user16 more like her sugar daddy lance has it lol XD

user17 guys be fr if you had a rich boy you'd be spending his money too!!!

twitter

yourusername and lance_stroll posted on instagram stories

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by estabanocon, lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 206,948 others

tagged: astonmartinf1 and lance_stroll

yourusername thank you spa for having me! what a race, congrats to my favourite driver lance_stroll on p9 & his teammate fernandoalo_oficial on p5! great team work, hope to see you on another grand prix in the future astonmartinf1 💚🏆

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astonmartinf1 we hope to see you on another grand prix as well Y/N!🤩

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user1 you don't have to lie admin, it's waste of money on her... better give the paddock pass to someone else

astonmartinf1 well, we definitely won't give it to you user1, so no need to worry about it 😙

user2 daaaamn, the admin is coming for y'all haters

user3 Of course she had to wear the racing suit... c'mon that's so embarrassing🙄

user4 actually it's pretty normal, I'm pretty sure Max's gf also wore his racing suit at some point

user3 Yeah but I at least like and respect Kelly... Y/N is a horrible gold digger

user4 well then I'm pretty sure it's your problem, not hers🤷‍♀️

user5 girl stop pretending you care about racing we all know you do it just for pr and cash xdd

user6 Honestly I'm not a Lance Stroll fan, but he deserves someone better than her...

lance_stroll Thank you to my favourite wag! 🥳❤️

yourusername love you baby!!!💞

user7 favourite wag😂 good joke😂😂

user8 am I the only one who finds their interaction cute??

user9 yeah you are user8... like just look at it, it's so forced... wouldn't be surprising if their whole relationship was fake

user10 You can hate on her all you want, but she's actually gorgeous in the third pic😻

user11 YUUUCCKK🤮🤮🤮

user12 you see I would be fine with this post if she didn't have to show off the aston martin car again!!!

user13 Hey did you notice she tagged Nando in the caption and he didn't reply to her? I call it ✨karma✨ lol

user14 maybe he escaped from her basement😭

user15 💚💚

user16 sorry but I can't help it. There's just something fishy about Y/N and I can't bring myself to like her at all

user17 Guys who is this girl and why does she get more hate in her comments than hailey bieber??💀

user18 I hate how she makes the whole Grand Prix about herself

user19 no but fr... like honey, idc about you and your favourite driveeer

user20 Tf?? She literally called LANCE her favourite driver how is that about her... you haters are so dumb🤦‍♀️

user21 I bet she read the comments on twitter about how she's bad gf for not going to any races and decided to fix her image by this XD

user19 lmfao didn't probably work the way she hoped

messages between Y/N and Lance

lance_stroll posted on instagram

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, f1 and 330,219 others

tagged: yourusername

lance_stroll As some of you now, I am not very active on social media. Today I'm making an exception for Y/N, my lovely girlfriend I've been dating for almost a year now. She is one of the greatest, most kind, caring and selfless people I know. I don't know where the idea of our relationship being unhappy, one-sided or even insincere came from, but I would like to make it very clear once and for all that these assumptions are as far from the truth as they can be.

In my life, I experienced a lot of hateful comments and reactions myself. It is not something I wish anyone should have to go through and it's disgusting. I love Y/N with all my heart and I hope that one day, she'll make me the happiest man alive and allows me to marry her, build a family together. No one will ever again speak about her in an inappropriate way, or they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them. I am very serious about this.

Y/N, I'm not afraid to call you the love of my life. I never want to see you cry because of some meaningless hater. Love you to the moon and back, sweetheart ❤️

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user1 It's just so heartbreaking how Lance himself had to go through so many waves of hate because of his dad and now he had to watch Y/N go through it too...😓

yourusername love you to the moon and back too lance!!!💖

lance_stroll Wouldn't have it any other way honey!😌

user2 you know it's serious when sebastianvettel shows up

astonmartinf1 once the it couple, always the it couple!💚 proud to say we were never a hater😘

user3 i still think it's fake

fernandoalo_oficial and I think you are fake🤪

user4 LMAO nando come and get the haters lets goooo

user5 That's how you shut them up xd

fernandoalo_oficial how do you children say it? I AM LANCEY/N DEFENDER

user4 yeah yeah nando exactly that or you can say your a lancey/n truther

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

user5 omg I can't believe I just had online conversation with THE Fernando Alonso😭

user4 GIRL ME TOO AND HE EVEN LIKED MY COMMENT😭😭

f1 What a beautiful couple you are!🙌 Hope to see you in the paddock after summer break!😏

user6 "they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them" daaammmnn man is standing on business here

user7 Tbh I never understood why y'all hated on her sm she's literally so beautiful and seems kind as well🤷‍♀️

lilymhe pretty giiiirl

lance_stroll I couldn't agree more!❤️

yourusername oh stop you two I'm blushing

user8 Can we take a moment to appreciate how beautifully the caption is written?🥹 Lance really has some poetic talent!

liked by yourusername

user9 aaah she's still a gold digger and he's too blind to see it😂

user10 Yeah she probably charmed him in bed or sm

user11 Ohh user9 and user10... I wonder how it feels to know Lance and probably some other drivers hate you🫢

chloestroll My brother and my future sister-in-law!🥰

liked by the author and yourusername

yourusername 🥰🥰

user12 im actually so happy to see y/n replying to some of the comments and just being active without so much hate on her now!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, kellypiquet, fernandoalo_oficial and 299,102 others

tagged: lance_stroll and dior

yourusername they say if he wanted to he would... I say he wants to so he does 🌹❤️

comments have been limited

lilymhe she ate you jealous people up with that caption

liked by lance_stroll and fernandoalo_oficial

lilymhe also alex_albon me when??

dior Wow!❤️‍🔥

lance_stroll That's what real men do instead of trolling others on the internet.

yourusername daaammn baby

lance_stroll What? I'm just stating facts 😌

kellypiquet shopping trip to Paris when?😍

yourusername anytime you want!!!💕

astonmartinf1 So lucky to (basically) have you on our team💚

fernandoalo_oficial I call that a slay admin

astonmartinf1 ...should I tell him slay is kinda out dated??

yourusername aaah let him have his moment

fernandoalo_oficial WHAT?! YOU TRAITORS I THOUGH I WAS GEN-Z APPROVED

yourusername 🫢

THE END

Author's note: I hope you liked my first ever social media au story! I'll be glad for every feedback, comment, like, reblog and everything! You can definitely send me asks and requests for another smau's and even 'normal' fanfictions. Have a great day!

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meowhara · 6 months

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Halloween Special🔮

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

cw : none! cry baby reader ig 😌

author's note : Tbh I almost delete this draft because of how boring it is (at least in my opinion). I got a better story idea midway of writing this but I don't have any time to redo so here you go. Sorry if it's too boring to read :)

"What is Halloween?" You asked as you laid on your stomach on a red fluffy sofa and scrolls through your pink phone (that he just bought for you) in his office.

"Halloween? Oh it's a celebration where you go around the neighborhood wearing stupid costumes and trick or treating people in order to collect candies." He said with a snarl. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he went trick or treating. But he does remember a childhood memory of him and Gabriel, walking in the middle of the night dressing up as Mario and Luigi. The memory of them laughing with mouthful of candies in their mouth.

You gasp, interrupting his train of thought. "I want to wear costumes! I never got to wear one before!" You said as you start skipping excitedly towards his working desk where he is sitting right now. "You? Want to wear costumes?" He look up at you through his lashes as if you just said an utterly stupid idea, not taking his reading glasses off before he continue working on some business paper on his desk.

You nodded, "Please... Pretty please?" Miguel ignores you and continue signing tons of paperworks that he needs to work on. "Is that a yes?" You asked again, hoping that he'll let you dress up for the up coming Halloween which is today. He stood up suddenly and starts walking towards the exit of his office. "Aww Miguel? Please??" You said as you follow behind him.

He kept ignoring you and kept walking towards the front door. "Miguel... Pleaseee? Just let me dress up this one time for Halloween." You kept begging and tugging on his sleeve while looking up at him with the biggest puppy eyes he has ever seen. He stopped in front of the door to put his coat and black frame red lens sunglasses on. Before looking down at you with an annoyed expression, "Lyla, help and make her whatever costume she wants." He said while looking at Lyla who's busy typing on her phone with her back leaning onto the nearest wall.

She rolled her eyes before standing up back straight. "Why me? I'm busy too you know?" She sneered as he looks at Miguel and crossing her arms in front of her chest. But he didn't say anything before walking out the door and driving away with some of his men.

You let out an exited squeak and your small fluffy bunny tail starts to wag in excitement before you turned to look at Lyla with a wide happy smile on your face. She let out a frustrated sigh and rubs her face with her palm before she looks at you, feeling defeated. "Come on you little ball of fur." You happily follows behind her towards the living room.

Miguel is sitting on the back seat of his car as his second man in command drives him to a meeting he needed to attend. "Cancel all the plans I have for this evening." He said while he lit up his cigarette. "Sir, but your schedule are packed today. You have several important meetings to attend to." The man behind the wheel said. "I don't care. I don't want to be interrupted for the rest of my evening." Miguel said after he puffed a cloud full of smoke from his mouth. "Is it because of Y/N?" The driver raised one of his eyebrows at Miguel and looked at him through the rear view mirror. Miguel was caught off guard from the question, he let out an offended scoff. "No. One more word out from your mouth and I'll cut your tongue off." He growls before the driver let out a satisfied chuckle and focus back on the road.

"So what do you want to dress up as, Y/N?" Lyla asked you as she tried to look up for costume references online with her phone. "I want to be umm what's the name of the little girl with red cloak?"

"Red cloak— Little red riding hood?" She said with an eyebrow raised at you. "Yes her! I want to dress up as her. I thought it would fit me." You said with a bright smile. "Why don't you just dress up as a bunny? You have the ears already right? Wouldn't that be easier?" She obviously doesn't want to make anything too complicated since this is not the part of her job, babysitting her boss's little girlfriend? Yeah right.

"But I want to be the little red riding hood..." You pouts, hoping that will make her change her mind. "Ugh fine. You're lucky you're so cute." She pinch your cheek softly before standing up. "Where are you going, Lyla?" You asked, wondering why she stood up suddenly. "You want a costume right? Don't you need some fabric for that?" She said as she walks to the front door and put her black leather jacket and her black motorcycle helmet on. "Right... Can I come with you?" She just sigh, "Y/N, Miguel will chop my head off if I let you out without his supervision. Just stay at home and wait okay?" Your bunny ears fall backwards from disappointment but you nodded anyway.

After she went out to buy some fabric and other things to help you make a costume she then came back to Miguel's masion. You spend the whole day with her making your costume using an old sewing machine she somehow found in Miguel's basement. Lyla made the red cloak and a matching little red riding hood inspired dress. She even bought a small brown basket to match your costume.

Miguel came back home right after you finished making the costumes you wanted. He entered the living room just to find it messy with fabrics everywhere. Lyla rests her head against the sofa's back pillows with her eyes closed. "You need to pay me extra for this you know?" She said still with her eyes closed. "Where is Y/N?" He asked, ignoring what she just said to him. But she just replied back with a shrug.

"Lyla—" He raised his voice before you hugged him from the back. "Miguel! You're back." He turned to look at you and his expression softens instantly. "What are you dressing up as?" He asked as an amused smile appeared across his face. You gave him a quick 360° spin to show your costume off to him. "Little red riding hood! Do you like it?"

The way your red cloak's hood covers your head, leaving your beautiful mostly adorable face for him to look at and the way your bunny ears are hidden by the hood. And how the matching dress Lyla made for you makes you look even more adorable to look at, it does suit you perfectly. His little red riding hood, he thought to himself. Deep down he's in love with how you look but he's too embarrassed to say it. "It looks okay."

You tilt your head to the side and took the hood off, exposing you bunny ears as it straightened back up like usual. "You... Don't like it?" You said with a sad tone which made Miguel regret his answer right away. "No— no. I do like it. You look... Good." Your face lit up right away, "You think so?" He just nodded, worried that another stupid word out of his mouth will make you upset.

You giggles and hug him tight. He got surprised by your sudden hug but he hugs you back any way, as gentle as possible. You then look up at him with the brightest smile that stole his heart every single time he looks at you smiling at him. You pull away before you jump a little to gave him a little kiss on the cheek. His face turned into a redder shade right away from your kiss which makes you giggle even more. Lyla rolled her eyes as she watches her boss getting flustered from a kiss that you just gave him. She cleared her throat to catch your attention, "Don't you have a surprise for Miguel, Y/N?"

"Right! I do have a surprise for you." You said before taking a small pile of clothing that you neatly folded from the living room table. "What is this?" He said before taking it from you. "A costume for you. I thought it might be even better if you dress up with me." He unfolded the clothing, trying to figure out what kind of costume it is. It looks like a pretty long black cape with red fabric in the inner side of the cape. "You want me to wear this?" He asked, unsure whether he wanted to accept your request or not. At the same time he doesn't want to hurt your feelings.

"Yes, it's a vampire costume— I mean cloak. I mean you just need to put that over your suit since your outfit is already kind of... Vampirey enough." You said sheepishly. "No. That's not going to happen." He fold the cloak and offers it back to you. "B— but I worked hard to make that cape for you... Please just wear it." You begs, trying to make him change his mind.

"Don't be such an asshole boss. She made it for you, at least wear it for her." Lyla jumped into the conversation because she feels bad if Miguel just turned down your hard work just like that. He look at you for a while before letting out a long and tired exhale, "Fine. I'll wear it. But just for today." Your face lit up once again as he wears the cape. "You know what will make the costume look better, Y/N? Fake fangs." She teased.

Instead, you took her teasing seriously and starts dragging Miguel with you towards his bedroom where you make him sat down in front of the mirror to put fake fangs on him. "Is this really necessary?" He pouts likes a child. "Mhm it is. It's Halloween after all." You said while you put the fangs on him without him complaining at all, different from usual. "I regret telling you anything about Halloween." He mumbles before checking himself on the mirror and taking a look at the fake fangs.

"So, what do you think?" Your eyes are focused on his reflection on the mirror. But he didn't answer, he just stares at you from the mirror. "Miguel, are you okay? Are you mad at me?" He starts walking towards you slowly with his brows knitted together, angry. "M— Miguel? What's wrong?" You backs away from him, you can feel fear surging through you veins from how different he acts all of the sudden.

The back of your legs are now pressed against the bed, leaving you no more room to escape. His eyes are looking down at you like a predator looking at it's prey. Now you know how much fear the little red riding hood must felt when she met the wolf in disguise. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears from how scared you felt at the moment. Your bunny ears fall backwards when you're feeling scared or nervous and you can feel your legs shaking in fear.

Miguel pounce at you, tackled you off your feet before your back landed on the bed. You screamed and put your hands in front of your face for protection. But to your surprise Miguel let out a laugh, "Can't believe you fall for that, little one." He said before smothering your face with kisses. "W—what?" You look up at him with fear, tears blurring your vision. "I was just messing with you. No need to get so worked up over it." He teased as he starts kissing your neck and nibbles on it gently.

"Why would you do that for?" You can't stop yourself from crying, some tears fell from your eyes before you wiped it all away. "Aww don't cry. Why are you crying?" He teases even more and move aside so you can get back up on your feet. You know how much of a tease he is when you two are in private, especially when he's in a very good mood. "You scared me." You said as you sat back up angrily before looking away from him.

He smirked and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, "My bad, little one. Come on don't be mad, I was just toying with you." You look away from him with your hands crossed in front of your chest to show that you're mad at his joke. "Little one? Please talk to me. I'm sorry okay? I mean it." He motions your head to face him with his hand before caressing your chin with his thumb while looking at you with an apologetic expression. An idea came up in your head before your face softens a little, "I'll forgive you if you let me go trick or treating tonight." You said with a smirk, challenging him.

"Oh getting smarter aren't you. I like that. But no trick or treating. You know how dangerous it is at this hour, little one."

"Why? Everybody went outside already! I don't want to miss anything." You said with a small pout. "By me letting you dress up and even let myself dress up because you asked me to is a miracle itself, trust me."

"You're lame." You grumbled under your breath. "Care to repeat that? I don't think you're loud enough the first time you said it."

You ignore him and it's getting on his nerves but he's trying to keep himself calm for your sake. "It's getting late. Let's go downstairs and eat dinner."

Throughout the dinner you're awfully quiet and kept playing with your food, not eating any of it. He understood by now how pissed you are just because he didn't let you to go out. He didn't allowed you to do one thing that everybody does on Halloween and it's pissing you off, horribly. "Y/N, please just eat your food. I got you your favorite carrot, the freshest even. I know you're upset but you can't starve yourself like this." He said, trying to make you understand the situation better. "Look I know how pissed off you are by how I'm being overprotective. But you need to understand that this is for your own good." He kept trying to persuade you with his words. But you're too angry to listen. "You're just being selfish." You hissed at him, making his heart break.

He tried to think of a way to make you at least a little bit happier. He called one of his men to prepare something for you in order to make it up to you. "Look I know I can't let you out to go trick or treating. But I prepared a batch of candies outside my door so kids can take those. So, you won't missed out anything since you can still watch people coming by from inside the house. You can even greet them yourself if you want." He said with so much warmth in his voice. You stood up quicker than the speed of light, "Really? I can do that?!" He nods before you jumped at him to give him a big hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

"In one condition. You need to finish your dinner first." You nodded before eating your dinner as fast as you can before you rush towards the front door and sat by the window, waiting for anyone to come up to take candies from the big container full of candies.

Miguel just smiled as he watches you from the living room, your bunny tail waging in excitement. He's happy that you're happy and that's what matters the most for him. Paperworks waited for him upstairs so he went back inside his office to work while you're still sitting near the window with his sidekicks watching over you for him.

Hours has passed and he's still up in his office, busy until he heard a knock on his door. "Come in." Eyes still glued to his work, one of his sidekick enters his office. "Sir, it's Y/N. She's umm how do I explain this? She's been very quiet for the past hour and her ears— it's not standing up. You know what I mean?" He sigh before looking up from his paperwork to his sidekick. "Is she asleep?" He asked, tiredness filled his voice. "No I think she's crying..." Miguel rubs his eyes with his palms before rushing out from his office, "Oh for fuck's sake."

"Sir, don't you want to take that ridiculous costume off." His sidekick complaints, tugging on his vampire cloak that you made just for him. "Touch it one more time and I'll break your hands myself." He growls before his sidekick raised his hands up, off of the cape. "Sorry."

Miguel saw you weeping on the floor, still with your little red riding hood costume on. "Hey, little one. What's wrong?" He crouched down beside you just to find your face wet from tears. "I waited and waited for hours but nobody came... Why didn't they show up?"

Miguel didn't think about the fact that his mansion is just too scary for any kids— anyone to walk to his door and take some candies. "Look, maybe they didn't know there are candies there. We can try again next year okay?" He patted your back as an attempt to calm you down. "Is it my outfit? Did they not like my outfit?" You asked in between sobs, you couldn't believe all that hardwork you spend on making costumes are wasted just like that. "Of course not. You look gorgeous! Next year I promise we'll go out together on Halloween okay? So you can go trick or treating." You wipe your tears away and look up at him, "Promise?"

"Promise." He said before he pulls you into a hug. The hug lasted for quite a while before you let out a loud yawn. He laughs before pulling away from the hug, "Let's go to bed, little one. You look sleepy." He helps you to get back on your feet. "Don't people watch scary movies on Halloween? I haven't done that yet." You mumbles as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands. Miguel look up at his watch, the time is currently showing 11 PM. "It's past your bedtime and besides you wouldn't even last a second watching a horror movie."

"Just one movie... I promise I'll go to sleep right away." He never wanted you to stay too long after your bedtime but he let it slide this time. "One movie okay? Then you'll go to bed right away." You smile happily before you two made your way towards the living room then sat down on the sofa.

He turn the TV on, "What do you want to watch?" He asked as he sat down beside you, you're sitting down comfortably leaning over his massive build. "I want to watch horror movies!" He can tell just by how exited you are that you never watched any horror movie before. He shook his head with a smile before he picked any random movie for you to watch. His arms found it's way around your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his.

Five minutes into the movie and you're fast asleep, snoring softly with your ears falling to the side. He smiles to himself again before carrying you upstairs like a baby. He then put you down on his bed, he doesn't even bother to take your costume off since he know how much you like wearing it.

He planted a light kiss on your forehead, "Good night, my little red riding hood."

#hybrid reader #mafia fanfic #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #yandere mafia #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #mafia au #halloween #halloween special #yandere #yandere miguel x reader

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tossawary · 5 months

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You know, the more I think about it, the funnier I find the concept of Monkey D. Luffy /& Boa Hancock (especially paired with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy and Aro-Ace spectrum Hancock) just for what it must look like from an outsider's POV.

For the record, personally, my favorite Luffy ship is Zoro/Luffy - also with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy, that's basically non-negotiable for me, I don't care whether he's sex-favorable or sex-repulsed, but he's definitely ace. It is so funny to me to think about Luffy's incredible pull with aro-ace spectrum folks. People who once thought "sucks for you fuckers obsessed with sex and/or romance, I'm built different" (Roronoa Zoro, Koby, Trafalgar Law, Boa Hancock, Bartolomeo, etc.) find themselves fascinated by this little rubber man, who regularly declares war on the government and can swallow a roast chicken whole. Some of them are happier about this than others. Some of them WISH they just wanted to fuck or marry him, that would make more sense than this shit.

But, okay, back to Luffy and Hancock (as a friendship or queerplatonic situationship, whatever, doesn't matter). Like, let's pretend this is some kind of Modern College AU (Luffy is probably not IN college, tbh, he's just there to hang out with his friends and for any food anyone makes the mistake of leaving out). You are on your way to class and you see this woman walking down the street and she is - hands down - the Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

Super tall, with incredibly long, muscular legs in shockingly high red heels, a short skirt, artful cleavage, a waterfall of sleek black hair, beautiful face, striking makeup, gorgeous jewelry. Looks too old to be an undergrad student. She looks like if a martial artist became a supermodel. Walks like that too. The phrase "please step on me" comes to mind, but not to the lips, because that's sexual harassment, and also this woman looks like she could stab you through the heart with a kick and her shoe heel, killing you instantly.

She sees someone and her entire face lights up. She runs forward (how is she running in those shoes) squealing in excitement and embraces this guy you didn't even notice before, shouting about how much she missed him, and kisses him on the lips. He is... uh... three-quarters of her height at the tallest. A real Mr. Short King.

Wow, he has a babyface. And a scar on his cheek and on his chest, which you can see because he's wearing an open button-up, in eye-searing rainbow colors and decorated with monkeys, and jorts with fur at the cuffs. And mismatched flip-flops on the wrong feet. And a straw hat on a string around his neck. It looks like he hasn't brushed his hair today. It is impossible to judge his looks because his outfit is too distracting. Now the Most Beautiful Woman in the World is blushing bright pink as she clasps one of his hands in both of hers. Mr. Short King is using his other hand to pick his nose as she talks.

They walk hand in hand together over to where an incredibly expensive-looking bright red car is parked. Mr. Short King opens the driver's door for the Most Beautiful Woman and she apparently nearly swoons at this chivalry. She climbs into the driver's seat and he gets into the passenger's side (Luffy cannot legally drive and also cannot actually drive). They drive off together. What the fuck kind of Roger-and-Jessica-Rabbit-ass Sugar Mama relationship did you just witness?

Boa Hancock keeps a photograph of Luffy as her phone background and also on her desk at work. Everyone is always like, "Is that your... son?" And Hancock is like, "No, that's my number one choice of future fiancé! Isn't he sooooo handsome?" And people can only be like, "...Okay, but why are there police lights in the background? And something is on fire? It kind of looks like he's in the process of being arrested..." And Hancock responds dreamily, "They didn't catch him! He climbed into my exercise duffel bag and I carried him out."

#tossawary one piece #monkey d. luffy #boa hancock #fic ideas #long post

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Even Though

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: friends/FWB(?)-to-lovers, smut

Summary: Hoseok comes running every time you call, even though he knows you don't want the same things. Unless, of course... you do?

Word count: 7.4k

Content: alcohol consumption/drunkenness, oral sex (m. and f. receiving inc. deepthroat and face-sitting), unprotected sex

A/N: It's almost Hobi's birthday, so have a repost because I won't be writing a new fic for it lmaooooo! This one has had a bit of an edit and I think is much improved for it tbh; I was always quite fond of this one (esp for having written it in one sitting between midnight at 2:30am lmao) but I've added a few bits and changed the ending so it feels a little more ~realistic I guess. I've also (I hope) knocked out the bajillion typos that I had left in it before whoops! anyway, enjoy!

* * *

You turned, huddled into a corner of the club, carefully cradling your phone against your cheek as if that would, in any way, block out the noise. The voice at the other end was quiet, groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?!” you shouted into your phone. “Hoseokieeee! Can you hear me?”

“y/n? Are you ok?”

“No! I miss you! I miss you so much! I wish you were here; no one else is any fun. Can you come out, please? Come out and playyyyy.”

You swayed on your feet and had to brace yourself against the wall with one hand, staring pointedly at a chip in the paint, studiously focusing on it, trying to get it to stop swimming in front of you, doubling and twisting before your eyes.

“y/n, I was sleeping-”

“No! No sleeping! Come and play with me, Hoseok; I want to play.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Hardly,” you said with a snort, almost tripping over your own feet. “I’m basically fine, actually. I don’t even really feel drunk anymore.”

“Are you with people? Who are you out with?”

“I’m at work!”

“No, who are you out with?”

“Work! I’m at work with club at the people.”

“You’re at a club with people from work.”

“That’s what I said. But I don’t care about them... I just want you. I miss you. I want you. Please come out. Please, pretty please a thousand times.”

“Is someone looking after you?”

“Noooo. No one looks after me like you do. You’re the only one. You’re my favourite. Of all everyone, you’re my best one.”

You didn’t hear him sigh, didn’t see him rub his face with his free hand, staring up at the ceiling, facing off with the inevitable. He would come and get you. Of course, he would. That’s what he did. He’d come and get you and take you home and tuck you up in bed and leave water and painkillers on your bedside table and you’d tell him how much you love him and how much you miss him and you’d list everything you like about him and then you’d pass out and wake up in the morning and say you couldn’t remember what you said the night before. The texts would be right there in your phone but no one would mention them. Hoseok didn’t know if your amnesia was real or feigned but it didn’t really matter either way.

He knew this is what would happen, and he knew that it would slice through his heart like a knife, but he agreed to come and pick you up anyway. Like always.

* * *

“Hoseok-y! Ho-socky and mittens! My yang-mal and jang-gab-yyy. You came!”

You stumbled over to his car and made grabby motions at him through the open window. He got out and walked to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you in. You grabbed at his jumper and pulled his face close to yours. You sprinkled kisses all over his face as he tried to extricate himself from your clutches and return to the driver’s side.

“-ease please please please please,” you were saying as he sat down, shut the door, and buckled his seatbelt.

“Hm? What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you, please!”

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of it with a loud, noisy smack.

“Not while I’m driving.”

“Plleeeeaaassse,” you insisted, leaning in as close to him as you can. “If I ask really, really nicely?”

“Not while I’m driving, ok? It’s dangerous.”

You groaned, frustrated, and threw your hands in the air. The world whipping by so quickly outside made you feel dizzy and then, suddenly, tired. The kind of drunken tiredness that was like an unexpectedly strong wave that knocks you into the sea, pulls you under. If you didn’t lie down now, immediately, you thought you would pass out. So you fumbled down the side of the seat for the lever to adjust the angle and flew back with an anguished wail when it tipped all the way backwards.

“Are you ok?” Hoseok asked, eyes flicking briefly in your direction before returning to the road.

You were kicking your feet in the air, pressing your shoes against the roof of the car.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said softly, tapping your leg gently, encouraging them down.

Hoseok was just glad you weren’t trying to kiss him anymore.

* * *

“Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, dooo,” you sang, with little consideration for your neighbours, as Hoseok half-carried you to your front door. “I’m half-crazy all for the love of you!”

He carefully propped you up as he unlocked your door and helped you inside. As he shut the door, you took his face in your hands and continued.

“It won’t be a styyyyylish marriage! I can’t afford a carriage-”

A squeak interrupted your song as he lifted you, carrying you to your bed.

“But you’d look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle made for two!

“Have we ever gone bicycling, Seoky? Can I ride a bike? I think so... I don’t own one, though, but we can rent them, right?”

You blathered on as he took off your socks and pulled the clips out of your hair and hung up your jacket.

“Come here, please!” you called for him as he brought you a stack of reusable cotton pads and your make-up remover. You took both from him and chucked them on the bed, then pulled him down next to you.

“I love you,” you cooed, rubbing your nose against his. “I love you I love you I love you.”

You flopped back, head against the pillow, and dragged him with you.

“I think you are the most best, probab- Stop it! Stop it!” You swatted at his hands as he tried to wipe your make-up off for you. “I don’t want you to do that. I want you to kiss me, please.”

He turned his head as you reached for him and you kissed his cheek and his temple and his brow bone.

“Hoseok-y, why don’t you want to kiss me?” You were whiny and pouting and your big, shining eyes were boring into him.

“You’re drunk, love.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I still want to kiss you!”

He gently, but firmly, took your hands from his face and held them by your side.

“If you want to kiss me that badly, you can wait eight hours and kiss m-”

“Eight hours?! No, I can’t wait eight hours! I can’t wait even eight whole seconds!”

He wished more than anything that you weren’t drunk. He wished that you would be sober, sober and still this keen, still this loving. He knew wishes didn’t come true.

You sighed, growling at the end, frustrated and pouting and pretending to be angry. But you did, at least, stop trying to kiss him.

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said, as he lay down next to you.

You turned on your side and pressed your finger against his bottom lip, flipping it up and down.

“My name’s Hoseok,” you said, as if he were your ventriloquist dummy. “And I’m so pretty and I’m so smart and I’m so kind and I’m the best person in the world but I won’t let my girlfriend kiss m-”

Girlfriend. There was that word again. You wouldn’t dare utter it sober, and nor would he. He distinctly remembered the time he tried to get you to agree to a ‘date’ and how badly that went, so he wouldn’t dream of even thinking that word in your presence. But this wasn’t the first time you’d drunkenly referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Which was what made this all the more difficult for him. Somewhere, in whatever walled-off section of your mind (and heart), you were his; you were his girlfriend and you loved him and you were willing to let him love you. And the key to this little cage was, apparently, copious amounts of alcohol. So, you went out and you drank too much and you called him up and he came running because he loved that you need him, loved that he was the one you called even in the middle of the night. And you called yourself his girlfriend and he pretended for five minutes that it might really happen.

“Just go to sleep, ok?” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear, pulling the covers up over you.

“Not if you’re going to leave me.”

“No, I’ll stay. I’ll stay here.”

“Good.”

You waited for him to lie down and then flung your limbs over him, holding him close to you, fisting his T-shirt. He kissed the top of your head and waited for you to pass out.

* * *

You woke, in the morning (later that same morning), thick-headed and dry-mouthed. You chugged the glass of water Hoseok left on your bedside table, finishing it before you could reach for the painkillers, which you opted to dry-swallow and then immediately regretted doing. You unlocked your phone and grimaced as you noticed the time: it was 7am, which meant you’d been asleep for all of three hours. You felt ghastly but, somehow, also wide awake. You scrolled through your phone, looking through your fingers at the messages you sent last night. There were so many.

You: Hoseeereeokkkkjjyyyy.

You: are ayou sleep?

You: I msiss you so mchu. I wish you wer hreeeeee.

You: if u coome, I wlll love youf roever.

You felt movement from the other side of the bed and rolled over, away from the embarrassment of your phone, to see Hoseok standing up. You watched him as he put his phone in his pocket, ran a hand through his hair once, twice, then turned around.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“Catching you in the disappearing act this time.”

You sounded annoyed, but you weren’t really sure why. Just hungover. Probably.

He smiled and you wondered why he looked so shy. He was usually gone before you woke up, at least these days. Maybe he actually was embarrassed to be caught running out on you.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“Like I drank an entire bar and then had three hours’ sleep.”

“You should sleep it off; it’s still early.”

You didn’t know what compelled you to ask, didn’t know why now was the time, but you didn’t have the capacity to filter your thoughts from your mouth.

“What’s the point of you staying if you always run off so early?”

He blinked, taken aback. He replied slowly, hesitantly, almost reluctantly.

“You don’t like it when I overstay my welcome.”

It was such a specific turn of phrase, you could hear a bell ringing distantly in your brain, as if you’d had this conversation before – though, if you had, you didn’t remember having it.

“You don’t have to get up at the crack of dawn, though, just to get away from me. You can sleep in; you were also up at 4am so I’m hardly going to kick you out at 7.”

You thought he looked as if he was biting something back; his face was heavy with all the things he wasn't saying and you felt frustration settling on you, slowly taking the reins.

“I don’t know why you bother, to be honest,” you told him, your lack of sleep and excess of booze making you sound meaner than you really intended. “Why get up, pick me up, take care of me and then just disappear? What’s in it for you if you don’t even stay for breakfast?”

“Well, it’s the only time you’re ever really nice to me, so...”

It hit you like a slap in the face.

“What?”

“What?” he threw back.

“What do you mean it’s the only time I’m ever nice to you?”

“You and I both know what I mean. Take a look at your phone if you’re confused.”

He turned and, after a second’s pause, started to walk out of the room.

“Hey!” you called after him. “You can’t just say that and leave! Come back here!”

He looked at you from the door and you almost didn’t recognise him; you realised you’d never seen him angry.

“What do you want me to say? We both know what this is. This...”

He floundered, looking for a word, betraying the fact that, actually, neither of you knew what this was, what had become of you.

“I want more than you will ever want; that’s a fact. I want what you can’t or won’t give me. I made my peace with that. But then you call me in the middle of the night and you tell me that you want me and need me and that you miss me and you love me and I come running every time because I know you will never say that to me sober, will never look at me in the cold light of day in the same way you look at me in the small hours of the morning. Maybe I shouldn’t. In fact, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. That’s what I mean.”

Without another word – not that you could’ve managed one anyway – he turned on his heel and you heard the front door slam shut.

He wasn’t wrong. You knew. You didn’t want to know but you knew. It had always been complicated between the two of you.

* * *

A mutual friend introduced you because he thought you would like each other and he wasn’t wrong. But you hadn’t expected him to be so right; you were entirely unprepared for Hoseok. Entirely unprepared for the most perfect man to just waltz into your life and lay himself at your feet. You weren’t ready for that. You thought you would meet a guy who was basically fine (hopefully a little better than fine); a guy who would be fun for a few dates, good for a casual sort of arrangement, nothing serious. You thought you could see this guy and continue to sow your wild oats elsewhere. But Hoseok was different.

You hit it off immediately. Yoongi introduced you at a party and you instantly connected, forgetting anyone else was there, talking all night. Drinking, too. When he offered to walk you home, you knew you would offer him a nightcap in your apartment. He knew he would accept if you did. Your memories of that night were slightly hazy but you knew the sex had been good because you had sent almost everyone you knew a message that was simply five mind-blown emojis.

Hoseok had a party the following week and you were invited. He had been a perfect host and you had spent hours, desperately frustrated, trying to convince him to forget about all his guests and come rail you in his bedroom. By the time everyone else had left and he could finally give you his undivided attention, you had sobered up and your memories of that night are crystal clear. You had sent your best friend a text that read ‘I will never sleep with another man ever again’.

That was not a vow you kept.

Hoseok was kind and caring and considerate in a way no one had ever really been with you before. It almost began to annoy you, the way he took care of you, looked out for you, thought of you when he passed something in a shop window. You had begun to feel claustrophobic in his affections; this wasn’t supposed to be a relationship. He wasn’t supposed to like you or, heaven forbid, fall in love with you.

Your ‘dates’ had been casual up to that point because you had forced them to be. You would swing by his apartment after dinner with your friends or invite him over to yours when you had no plans for the weekend. When he had asked you, finally, to go on a real date with him, out to dinner somewhere, your response had been ‘why would we do that?’. That was when things had started crumbling.

He had insisted you could keep it casual and still go out to eat together. He had insisted that it didn’t matter what it was called and, if you didn’t want to call it a date, he wouldn’t call it a date; he just wanted to spend more time with you. You had called your mutual friend and given him an earful for introducing you; you had got several earfuls back. Hoseok dropped the subject.

Then he had started talking about a weekend away, going into the country, getting a cabin or something, going swimming in the lake and walking up the hills and stuff that all sounded far too romantic to you. You had asked him why the hell he kept insisting on treating you like you were his girlfriend. You had told him repeatedly and emphatically throughout that conversation that you were not his girlfriend. You kept telling him that you were friends and he kept telling you that he doesn’t fuck his friends like that. You told him maybe he should so he might lighten up a bit.

You stopped sleeping together after that. Mostly. Kind of. You hung out more often and you thought that maybe you had been right, maybe you were just friends and you told yourself that this was probably the ideal outcome. But a few weeks later, at another party, you had both got drunk and immediately sought each other out across the crowded room and left without so much as saying goodbye. You tumbled into bed and you cursed yourself for ever giving this up, for ever thinking you could go without him. Until the morning came anyway.

This happened a few more times and, each time, you grew colder and more distant in the morning. Hoseok wasn’t stupid and it wasn't as if he thought you would magically change your mind about dating him if only you had sex just one more time, one more time, but he wasn’t expecting you to behave the way you did. He had asked if you could at the very least not be rude to him, and you had shot back that overstaying one’s welcome was also considered rude and maybe he should think about that. He decided he wouldn’t sleep with you again.

It happened a few more times after that, too. Then he decided to give up drinking around you. It would’ve been easier to just cut you out, take you out of his life completely, but he was too far gone to do that. He would walk over hot coals for you; he knew it and so did you.

* * *

You woke again much later that morning and thought about what Hoseok had said. You dialled Yoongi’s number.

“On a scale of 1-10,” you began as soon as he picked up the phone, not even bothering with a greeting, “how much of a dick am I to Hoseok?”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Please just answer the question.”

“Ok, well, what’s included on the scale? Does the worst include like, violence and murder?”

“No! Obviously not. Just like, for normal friends, scale of 1-10, how badly do I treat him?”

“Is 10 the worst?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then 10.”

“What?!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Everyone knows. You know.”

“I’m not that bad, surely.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well then why haven’t you done anything? Why would you let your friend treat your other friend like that?”

“Well, firstly, because I don’t actually control you. Secondly, you may recall that we have spoken about this on a number of occasions and I have always made it very clear that you are being a dick and you are hurting his feelings and always told you that you need to stop dicking him about. But like I said, I don’t control you. And I don’t control him, either. I have also had numerous conversations with him about you and I have told him he deserves better-”

“Hey!”

“Are you seriously trying to argue with that?”

“Well-”

“Exactly. I don’t know what answer you wanted from me but, of course, the answer is 10. On a scale of 1-10, you absolutely treat him the worst.”

“Surely he takes some responsibility for it at this point.”

Yoongi interrupted you before you could say more.

“Don’t you dare go there. You are my friend and I am saying this because I do actually value you as a person and, this aside, I do think you’re a decent person: you are treating him like a cunt and he deserves better and, if you were anyone else in the world, I would’ve cut him off from you months ago and literally kept him under lock and key to keep him away from you if that’s what it would’ve taken.

“That said, I’m glad you’re asking the question. I hope this means you’re actually giving it some thought? You’re actually considering his feelings now? Considering your own, maybe?”

“What do you mean my own?”

“Your own feelings for him.”

“I don’t have feelings.”

Yoongi hummed non-committally and you could almost hear his eyes rolling through the phone.

“Well, anyway, let me repeat one more time for the record that you are a total dick to Hoseok and you should treat him better.”

“Thanks very much.”

“You’re welcome!” he rang off brightly, ignoring the sarcasm of your comment.

* * *

You were grumpy and hungover and tired and feeling unsettled, disturbed. It had been some time since you and Hoseok had discussed anything to do with... whatever it was that you were or had been or wanted to be, and it always made you uncomfortable. You did know, really, deep down, somewhere you tried not to look, that you were treating him badly, and on days when the hangover anxiety was at its worst, you felt sick with guilt about it. But you also felt sick at the thought of more. He wanted so much of you. More than you felt you had to give. He saw things in you that you were sure just weren’t there. And you didn’t want him to see the things you kept hidden, the dark things, the bad things, the things that would make him turn and run for the hills if he knew. He was too good for you and it scared you and it hurt you and you chose, simply, not to address it. To run away from it as far as you possibly could, which, when you’d had a drink or six, was not very far at all.

You showered to try to wash the discomfort away; you stuffed yourself full to try to distract yourself from the anxiety in your guts; you, briefly, considered drinking again but the thought brought bile to your throat. You stared, unseeing, at the TV, ostensibly watching a drama, but really replaying your own, real-life drama over and over in your head.

You wanted to be reasonable about it but the guilt and embarrassment and anxiety curdling in your gut made you feel sick and you couldn’t face it, so you chose not to be reasonable. You kept butting your head up against the fact that, if he really hated it that much, he could just not answer your calls. Sure, you could stop calling him, but you only did it when you’re drunk and who had that level of self-control after that many drinks? He didn’t have to come and get you; he didn’t have to walk you into your apartment; he didn’t have to put you to bed. He did all of that on his own. And maybe if he actually slept with you, it might've made a difference...

You tossed that thought aside because you knew both that it wasn't true and that you would not want to be anywhere near someone who would soberly fuck anyone even close to as drunk as you usually got. Hoseok was not that guy.

The more you thought about it, the more annoyed you got. You knew that you couldn’t really think straight; you were not at your best right now, but you were annoyed. You were annoyed that you had to be tired and hungover and thinking about this. Why couldn’t he just keep it simple for you both and leave you alone? Or, at least, ignore you when you didn’t leave him alone? You felt like he was making his feelings your problem. And you were done with it.

* * *

You stood outside his door, hesitating. The taxi ride over had taken just long enough that your immediate anger was subsiding and a tiny part of your rational brain was waking up again. Then you thought about the texts you sent him last night and were so embarrassed at yourself that you needed to feel something else: guilt, shame, anxiety, anything would do. You hammered at the door.

Hoseok opened it and looked surprised to see you, but nevertheless stepped back to let you in.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“We’re finishing this,” you told him and he looked at you blankly. “We’re finishing this now.”

“What do you mean? Finishing what?”

“This!”

You gestured frantically between the two of you.

“I’m fucking sick of this!” you cried. “You want me so fucking badly? Then why don’t you do something about it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying do something! I’m not drunk anymore! Why don’t you do something?”

“Listen to what you’re suggesting. We’ve done that. And it’s ended up with us here. How do you think doing it again is going to lead somewhere different?”

You opened your mouth to argue but he wasn't finished.

“Besides which, I don’t want to just ‘do something’. That’s the whole problem. We’re in this because I want more than just something, I want more than just sex and you don’t. And when I made it clear to you that I wanted more, you ran for the fucking hills. Before you came running back, that is.”

You were surprised because he’d never argued with you like this before. You realised, with a lurch, that he’d never been angry with you before. You couldn’t put a name to what it made you feel; you were too busy swimming with frustration and anxiety and anger to be able to think clearly. You just knew that this was different so, maybe, this was good.

“And why do you let me back, then? If I’m so awful and I treat you like such shit, why do you pick up?”

“I already told you. And you don’t need to tell me I’ve lost my fucking dignity and pride; you don’t need to tell me that I should be better than that, that I shouldn’t be begging at your table for scraps. I already know. Trust me, no one is as sickened by me as I am.”

“Sickened? Wanting me sickens you, does it? I sicken you, do I?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok.”

You stalked closer to him, stuck a finger hard against his chest.

“Fuck you for putting that on me,” you spat.

The world held its breath for one second and, the next, you were tangled up in each other, his mouth finally on yours again, his hands against your skin, yours in his hair. He lifted your T-shirt over your head and you sighed as his fingers grazed your nipple, quickly teasing it to a tight bud. You pushed down his trousers and he stepped out of them, pushing you backwards until your legs hit the sofa. He ripped off his own top before guiding you down until you were lying on the sofa with Hoseok at your feet, tugging on your jogging bottoms. You tilted your hips to allow him to pull them off and he brought his hands up to relieve you of your underwear.

His eyes were black, darker than you’d ever seen them and he looked at you like you were in trouble, like he was imagining all the things he could do to you. You gulped and arousal pooled in your core; you were suddenly desperate for him, clawing at him until his mouth was on yours so you could taste him one more time. You palmed him through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth, swearing softly as he pulled away.

You were tingling all over with anticipation as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a broad strip across the mound of your breast and bit down hard on your soft flesh. You whimpered and arched your back into him, urging for more. He clamped his teeth around your nipple and sucked, rubbing his tongue over the stiff nub and you shivered.

“Oh god,” you whispered. You had forgotten it was this good.

“Touch me, please,” you asked quietly. You didn’t want to break whatever spell was over you, but you were aching with a desire so strong, it almost hurt. And you knew how much he liked to hear you beg. “Please, Hoseok, please touch me.”

“Why should I give you what you want?” he asked, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth slack, breathing heavy, voice rough. “When do I get what I want, huh?”

“Anything. I’ll do anything, please.”

If you had both been thinking with your brains, you would both have known this was not true. Your brains were, however, otherwise indisposed.

Hoseok sat back on his knees, looking at you, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He stood, briefly, to discard his boxers and then he looked down at you, slowly pumping the thick length of his hot, stiff cock.

You were on your knees in an instant, replacing his hand with your own. You brought your open mouth to his tip, softly licking across his slit, keeping your eyes on his as you wrapped your lips around him and sank slowly, slowly down his shaft. He grunted when he hit the back of your throat and outright moaned when you kept going.

“God, I’ve missed this mouth,” he said, his voice tight and gruff. He gripped your hair with one hand and slowly pulled you back. Then he kept your head still as he thrust back in, still slowly at first, gentle almost, and then, when you moaned around him, faster, and then harder when your fingernails dug into his thighs. His eyes never left yours, even though yours were swimming with tears and he was no more than a blur above you. He was always looking at you. Until his eyes fluttered closed and you knew he was close to coming, could see it when his eyes opened again, piercing in their intensity; you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and you tapped his leg, signalling him to stop.

He fell from you in an instant and you pushed him onto the sofa.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who gets to have their fun,” you told him.

You pushed him back until he was lying and you pinned him down with your knees either side of his head. He was impatient, wrapping his arms around your legs and pulling you down to him, your core wet and dripping over his mouth. He looked at you, making sure your eyes met as licked through your folds.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “I forgot just how wet you get. I’m going to fucking drown in you."

He licked into your centre, drinking you in, taking you for everything you’d got while you rolled your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his nose, desperate for contact, for friction. You heard him chuckle low in his throat and you whimpered.

He was impatient to get started but he liked to take his time with you. He wanted you to beg: beg him to start, beg him to keep going, beg him to finish you off. He licked languidly through your folds, he sucked, he nipped, he returned again to fuck you with his tongue, all while you shivered and whined above him, pleasure building in you, urgency mounting. You grabbed his hair with both hands and tried to hold him still so you could direct yourself above him, but he was stronger than you and his arms kept you in place.

“Hoseok, please. Please, I need to come.”

He hummed against you and you tugged on his hair.

“Please, please.”

You tried harder to grind against his face, your clit throbbing and burning under the absence of his touch. He held you still. His face was buried in your cunt and you could just see his eyes, glinting at you, watching you fall apart under your desperate need for him.

“Hoseok,” you panted. “Hoseok, please.” Your voice broke as your desperation peaked, every part of you alert and armed, like tinder just millimetres from a flame.

He finally sealed his lips around your clit and you went up like a bonfire, ecstasy roaring through you, consuming everything. You were hot and sweating and writhing on top of him as he licked and lapped and sucked at you, pulling sounds out of you that only he could: loud, desperate, animal cries and his name over and over and over again.

It was only when you let loose his hair and your legs quivered either side of his head that he loosened his own grip on you and you flopped backwards, lying on top of him with your head on his hip.

“See how good I am to you?” he asked, wiping his mouth, sliding out from underneath you, towering over you once more.

“Yeah,” you whimpered. You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, so good.”

“But you don’t fucking want me.”

“Yeah, I do. I do, Hoseok, god, I do. Please.”

He rested his hands against the arm of the sofa above your head and lowered his face to yours.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said low, menacing.

He kissed you lightly and you lifted your head to meet him again but he moved too far off. He knelt over you, his heavy cock resting on your mound, and considered you for a while. This wasn’t usually part of your game and you were impatient, still needy for him, remembering the way he split you open, the glorious stretch of him inside you, the fluidity and power with which he moved.

“Fuck. What do you want from me?” you asked.

He tipped forward, back over you, hands either side of your head, his face so close, you could barely see him. He moved and kissed you lightly just below the ear.

“Everything.”

He stood and put on his boxers and you were overwhelmed with anger again.

“For fuck’s sake, seriously?!” you shouted, hitting him with a scatter cushion. “Are you fucking kidding?”

He turned to you, pulling his trousers back up and shrugged.

“No, I’m not kidding. I told you. I want everything. I want you, all of you, even this shitty part of you that treats me like crap, even the part of you that tells me you love me and then pretends to forget all about it in the morning, even the part of you that pretends to be sickened by the very idea of being my girlfriend, despite the fact that you refer to yourself as mine in the dead of night. Even your excessive drinking, even your emotional constipation, even your big, fat heart that you try to hide from everyone, even your insistence that you don’t give a shit despite giving a hell of a lot of a shit all the damn time, even your stupid fucking determination to do everything by yourself even when you actually need help, even your terrible taste in films and those god-awful reality TV programs you like, even your snoring, even your back turned back against me. All of it. All of you. I fucking want all of you, all the fucking time.”

You stared breathlessly at him as his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. Your heart was in your throat, blood roaring in your ears. He was waiting for you to say something but you’d lost the ability to speak. Words flew into and out of your head without your being able to catch any of them. You couldn’t think. Your mind was buzzing, static blaring, nothing but white noise. You could only stare at him, bewildered, overwhelmed, utterly naked.

His breathing slowly settled and he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath.

He was walking away from you and you knew you had to stop him. Your brain had no capacity to filter anything on its way to your mouth and you said it before you even really knew you were feeling it.

“I love you. I fucking love you.”

He turned quickly and watched you, wary, unsure. You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You staggered to your feet and took his hands and pulled him close to you.

“I fucking love you,” you said again. “I love you, ok? And I'm not drunk this time and fucking fine, if I’m such a piece of shit but you still want me, then fine. Fine. Have me.”

He was still looking at you, looking into your eyes like he was trying to solve a riddle.

“I’m not fucking with you. I’m not lying. I want you. I want you and have always wanted you and always wanted not to want you as much I do because you’re terrifying. Ever looked directly at the sun? Ever looked at the fucking face of god? ‘Cause I have and it’s you. Ok? It’s you. When I get drunk and I call you and I tell you that I love you, it’s true – that's true. It’s only you I call.” Your skin was hot, flushed, but from embarrassment now, from feeling skinned, raw, exposing yourself in a way that you never did, never wanted to. Your voice broke and you desperately didn’t want to cry, didn’t want this to be more embarrassing than it needed to be, didn’t want him to see how pathetic you really were even as you were telling him. “It’s only you I want. And it’s only when I’m not sober enough to fight myself that I can admit it. I’m a piece of shit and you’re a literal angel, a fucking god, but fine, if you really want to have me, have me. I’m yours.”

He gently nudged your nose with his and whispered your name, his eyes carefully watching you. Then he kissed you, soft and slow, and wrapped his arms around you. His hands wandered, exploring your body, caressing any part of you he could reach, as his tongue rolled with yours, as you raked your fingers through his hair, as he moaned into your mouth, as he picked you up and took you into the bedroom.

He lay you gently on the bed and slipped off his clothes once more. He covered your body with his and pressed kisses into your neck. Then he bit down and you keened, arching your back into him, suddenly violently, urgently aware of the slick between your legs, of your fluttering walls, desperate for him now.

“Please, Hoseok,” you whispered. “Please fuck me, now.”

This was where you were comfortable. No more talking. Just Hoseok with his body over yours, his soft skin and softer lips, his nimble fingers and strong body, his eyes black as pitch as he looked at you like you were prey.

“Gladly,” he whispered back, his lips just grazing yours.

He pressed himself against your entrance, eyes flicking between your face and your cunt as he watched himself disappear into you and watched your face, lest you betray any sign of pain or discomfort. But there was none. There was only the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him inside you and then the tight drag, feeling every contour of his cock, as he pulled back and thrust in again.

“God, no one compares to you- fuck...”

He liked to watch your face as you whined and whimpered beneath him when he lifted your legs, pushing against the backs of your thighs, hitting you deeper, harder. You were hot and sticky everywhere; your skin was slick with sweat, your cunt slick with arousal. Every part of you was fit to bursting, coming apart at the seams. You felt like a dam about to break and then he took his hand down between your bodies and pressed hard, the motion of his thrusts knocking his hand until you were crying out for more, much more, crying out that you were close, crying out please, please let me come, let me come. And he did. The flood engulfed you; you were pulled through a riptide of pleasure, unable to scream, unable to breathe, suffocating in the swirling pool of your orgasm. Hoseok kept going, fucking you through your climax until he was coming, too, painting your walls white, falling under the surface of ecstasy with you.

He fell down next to you and you lay, quiet save for your heavy breathing. When he took your hand in his, you let him, despite the thrum of anxiety in your heart.

“So,” he said, and he looked nervous when you turned towards him.

You were nervous but you’d said it now. And you’d missed him—you had. And Yoongi’s words were ringing in your ears, about your feelings, about how badly you treated Hoseok, and words from much, much longer ago, about how much you’d like him, what a great guy he was, how much Hoseok had liked meeting you, how much he liked you.

He was waiting for you to speak, not daring to go first. You looked down at your joined hands, looked up at the ceiling, looked at his face.

“I’m,” you began, your voice quiet and croaky. You cleared your throat but still didn’t know what words were going to come out. “I’m… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled onto his side, facing you, and you took your hand from his so you could use both to cover your face. You gave a frustrated sigh and slapped them onto the mattress on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. Not to you.”

“’Not to me’? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing! That’s my whole point!”

You squirmed, embarrassment heating your cheeks again, and ended up on your side, facing him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you and it’s… intimidating. I’m not like that. You said it yourself. There’s a lot wrong with me and-”

“That’s not what I said. I actually think you’re perfect.”

You blinked, stunned into silence.

“But you said all those things.”

“I still think you’re perfect. Even though I said all those things, even though you do snore and even though you have handled this situation in about the worst possible way and even though it’s hurt my feelings. Even though all of it. I still think you’re perfect and I still love you.”

You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling, blinking away fresh tears.

“I think you’re crazy,” you told him.

“There you go; there is something wrong with me after all.”

He leant over you and cupped your cheek with his hand. When he kissed you, it was soft and sweet and it wasn’t going to go anywhere—nor did you need it to.

“I don’t want to get it wrong,” you whispered to him, his face still close to yours, his breath fanning over your face.

He shrugged lightly.

“It’s ok if you do. We can’t be right all the time.”

“You’ll still love me?”

“Yes. After all this, I still love you. I’ve tried not to, I promise. So, yes, I will still love you if you get it wrong. As long as you love me.”

“I do.” You wanted to say it back, felt it stick in your throat. You swallowed hard, blinked slowly, took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

He kissed you again, still soft, still gentle, and then settled back on his side.

“So…”

“So?”

“So can I actually call you my girlfriend now?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t stop the little thrill in your heart or grin on your lips.

“I guess, if you must.”

He grinned back at you, wide, beaming.

“Yes, I fucking must!”

You thought that sounded just fine.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #jhope x reader #bts x reader #jhope smut #bts smut #bts fic #jhope fic #mmm repost

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raschuuuu · 6 months

Text

Summary: Y/N is a famous YouTube vlogger and Ruben Dias a famous professional football player. They've been friends for a few months but never met. Now it's finally time for them to meet but what happens when one of them falls in love?

PART 1

Rating/genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Ruben Dias x female reader

Word count: 1289 words

Author's note: Hey guy's. This is my first ever footballer fanfiction. First of all: I AM SORRY ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I'm bored at work tbh, thats why I started this and I have no idea how to continue. So if you like this and want to read more please let me know how to continue or how you would want it to end?:)

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

It was finally time. I'm on the train from London to Manchester. I took a few days off because I was invited. From Ruben Dias. I'm a Vlogger/Youtuber and apparently Ruben often watched my videos and decided to slide into my DM's a few months ago. We just started small talk, he told me he liked to watch my videos every Sunday and that I should keep doing what I do. I was honored. In the beginning we only had small talk but over time we've been writing more and more and more and also making phone calls and facetime. The only problem was that we never met because he's very busy and so am I. A few days ago Ruben asked me if we didn't want to finally meet and I said yes. And now I'm sitting here and I'm all excited.

Hey, I'll wait for you outside in the car. See you in a minute!

He texted me. I got off the train, it had already been dark. I told him not to come and I'm gonna take a cab, but he insisted.

I realized how nervous I got, I mean, we've been writing for a long time, but we've never met in person, and he even offered me that I could sleep with at his place. We didn't have a romantic relationship, we just texted as friends, but I mean the guy is pretty hot and everyone who doesn't think so must be blind.

When I was outside, I was out in the parking lot, I didn't even know which car he was driving. Do you know this embarrassing situation when you stand there looking for someone and the person most likely has already discovered you? I heard someone calling my name from a car standing a few meters away from me.

I ran to the car and he got out. He smiled at me very cute and he gave me a hug. His body felt so strong. He smelled good and we looked each other in the eye. He was a little taller than me, so I had to look up.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you in person," he said, and I noticed my cheeks turning a little red. "Me too, Ruben, we finally made it after so long," I replied.

He packed my things in his trunk, and then he opened his car door for me, and we drove off. The ride didn't take long, he asked me how it was and if I was hungry. I was so hungry but I couldn't eat because of all the excitement.

When we arrived, he parked his car and we went up to his apartment. His apartment was huge, clean and tidy, and above all, it was comfortable. He took me to the guest room and showed me where I‘ll stay for the next few days?

In the guest room, I remembered that we never agreed how long I was supposed to stay. I was uncomfortable staying with him anyway. I've told him several times that I'm going to take a hotel, but he insisted that I stay with him.

"Ruben, thank you, wow, this room looks so great, but I just remembered, we didn't agree how long I'd stay. I really don't want to bother you.", I said desperately. "Y/N, are you crazy? Stay as long as you want. My home is your home, I want my guests to be comfortable." he answered.

That feeling he gave me felt so domestic. I mean, I've known him for a little while, but how often do you have situations in life where you get along with a person very well, but once you get together, it gets kind of weird and uncomfortable? I was afraid that we'd end up in a similar situation, but on the contrary, it felt like I'd always visited him, as if we'd always been friends, as if I'd stayed with him several times.

For the next two days we spent together, he showed me Manchester, we went to dinner together, or we cooked together, he introduced me to his brother Ivan, everything was just so beautiful. We talked a lot, and we had deep conversations at night in his living room. He opened up to me, he told me some of his secrets, and he talked about his fears. I was very honored that he saw a close friend in me.

But I had a feeling I couldn't get rid of. Ruben was a very attractive and handsome man. I know I said that before, and I'm gonna say that again. If there's an attraction between a man and a woman, you can't be friends in my opinion. I tried to come up with other thoughts or convince myself that he wouldn't be so attractive, but that didn't work. Above all, Ruben has told me several times that he thinks that he has now found a best friend that he never had, and I don't want to break that feeling just because my pussy always gets wet when I see him.

He showed me some Instagram models that didn't even look like me that he's currently finding attractive. I mean, Ruben, he follows a lot of Instagram models, and he's also written with a lot of them and met a few of them, but he couldn’t imagine a relationship with them and those he thought might have been serious, turned out to be a gold digger. After a nice five days I spent with Ruben, it was time for me to leave Manchester and go back to London. I have taken a little break on Instagram while I was with him, so people wouldn't get suspicious of me meeting someone because when you have 5.6 million followers on Instagram this can happen fast.

I had to shoot content again and entertain my followers, so I packed my bag in the morning and Ruben was waiting for me so he could drive me to the station.

When we were in the car, I noticed a strange silence I'd never felt before between the two of us. Do you know that there are once pleasant silences and once unpleasant silences? And this was definitely an unpleasant one.

"Are you all right?", I asked him. He was looking at the road. "I'm fine. I'm just sad that you have to go," he said, turning his head to me for a moment. "I'm sad too, Ruben, it was nice five days, I had a lot of fun, maybe I can come visit you again, or you can come to London," I tried to cheer him up. He just nodded his head and kept on driving.

When we got to the station, he parked a little far away so he could get off with me. He took my suitcase out of the trunk and handed it to me.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N, I really appreciate it. You're a great person and I'm very happy to have you as my friend." I realized how emotional he got and sad. I hugged him and stroked his back. „Ruben this feels like a goodbye forever“ I said smiling at him. „It’s just that when I get used to a person I don’t want them to leave anymore. Please visit me again Y/N“ he said. „Of course Ruben! We’re in the same country. I can always hop in the next train and visit you. And if you should be in London again let’s definitely meet“. „Yes we should definitely do that. And the next time you should come visit my game and maybe I can introduce you to someone how you wanted to“ he said hitting my arm in a playful way. „You‘re really trying to set me up with someone huh“.

And with that we said our last goodbyes and I took my train back to London. I‘m so happy that I found a friend like him now.

#ruben Dias #ruben Dias x Reader #Rubén Dias x you #ruben Dias Imagine #ruben Dias fic #ruben Dias one shot #football fix #football imagine #football one shot #mancity #Manchester City #man city

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 6 months

Text

Round 4 Match 9

propaganda below the cut! (enormous wall of text warning)

Trent Reznor:

"he is everything. he is all that exists around us. he is the air which we breathe. he performed covered in mud at woodstock 94 and somehow made it work. he's largely responsible for arguably the most influential concept album of the 90s. he is beautiful and sweet and stunning. i want to study him under a microscope. i know closer is about sex as a self-destructive behavior but also have you seen how insanely gorgeous he looks in the music video? in the words of my friend, "he sings like he's in heat". he literally humps and destroys synths (in a variety of ways, including stripping the keys off with his boot) during performances. every single outfit he wears is extremely cunty. on multiple occasions guys have said that even though they're straight they would fuck him. finally, in the words of jude doyle: "to this day, looking at a photograph of trent reznor in the early '90s feels like looking into the sun""

"The live March Of The Pigs (1994) video makes me froth at the mouth I start biting and snapping my teeth and growling. I need to rewatch it five times a week at LEAST to stay sane. Trent Reznor is like if a trophy wife was a man. Also the way he WHISPERS INTO THE MIC AT THE END OF SUCK?????HHFSJBDNDNS???? THE ENTIRETY OF THE BROKEN EP????????? Cleanup on aisle my fucking pants. Is this too insane? Sorry"

"I’m a lesbian but that does not fucking mean anything when confronted with trent reznor"

"It's Trent, man. Even the literal devil wants him. He's just boypretty."

"This man deadass wrote a song with the lyric “My moral standing is lying down" in it"

Jonny Greenwood:

"Every art girl's (and boy's) wet dream"

"He wrote the tourist. That's all you need."

"Repeat from my Thom propaganda but he was a part of it so anyways. I had a dream once where I met him and Thom on the street and asked them to sign my Pablo Honey CD, so Thom pushed me into open traffic and I got hit by a car and died and Jonny laughed his ass off. 10/10, my last sight before death was his beautiful face laughing."

"I could probably snap him like a twig but I want to marry him and have 3 children with him before I do that"

"Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose 1/5 of Radiohead. Choose 1/5 of In Rainbows. Choose the man who wrote weird fishes, both Greenwood sisters ,the man in South Park, his telecaster and the stickers on it. Choose the bug Jacqueline Kennedy, his love for literature and poetry, and his lovely lisp. Choose his sublime score for Phantom Thread and his husband Paul Thomas Anderson. Choose the weird amount of straight men who thirst over him in the YouTube comment section. Choose his jawbone. Choose the most pretentious, unpretentious member of the band. Choose his silky hair and his (probably) Dove shampoo. Choose his great knowledge of music theory and how he often disregards it. Choose Astroboy's biggest fanboy (minus maybe Thom. Choose a very hot Alex James who eloped with a fish. Choose Jonny Greenwood. Choose your future. Choose life… Involuntary Trainspotting reference but please vote Jonny over Wario. Oh, and( even though Jonny lives in Italy at the moment), I live in Oxford and if I meet him, I'll tell him that he won."

"He keeps chickens guys, CHICKENS"

"I'm a straight guy but no joke Jonny is hot tbh maybe it's cuz he looks like a chick but like damnnnn"

"He's so gorgeous....kinda like an ant 😍😍😍😍"

Mike Patton:

"Mike didn't consistently wear BDSM masks matched with boiler suits and lick Trevor Dunn on stage just to lose this bracket. Also, if you don't think he's hot in every which way, you clearly haven't seen this: https://youtu.be/gjEbHBafvm0 or this: https://youtu.be/i9_hCjcFNO0 or this: https://youtu.be/Kfq7wHJu21c"

youtube

"Mike Patton collaborated with basically everyone who's anyone in music, and he speaks Italian too. He's great in a live show. And Mr. Bungle is unmatched and unparalleled, full stop."

"HEE HEE HOO HOO HA HA FUNNY WHITE MAN SCREAMS IN MY EAR AND BUSTS IT DOWN SEXUAL STYLE"

"I'm a lesbian but I find him insanely attractive which I think says a lot"

"whenever mike arches his back and screams a part of my soul leaves my body and is shattered by the soundwaves."

"all you need to do to love mike is watch this: https://youtu.be/0gq_Jn41iMM&t=1375 the fact that he blurts that out and then super casually goes into the song leaves me crying with rage and hormones every time I see it"

youtube

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #90s music #tournament #trent reznor #nine inch nails #mike patton #mr bungle #faith no more #jonny greenwood #radiohead

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acheronstraprider · 3 months

Text

(soft dom?) Acheron x Fem! Reader

Description: smut!! reader is quite well behaved. slight talk about kids and breeding. Spanking!! Acheron a bit upset you tried running away month ago. but she’s found you. As you walk home you notice a certain purple haired woman. You could recognize those eyes anywhere. this is such an ass fanfic tbh

It was a long day. you were tired from work and your car was still in the shop. as you're walking down the street you have music playing in your ears. Long, white, wired headphones and hair tied so people don't bother you. you weren't always one to chat with strangers.

Some times passes as you walk down the streets and roads. you're almost home when you suddenly freeze. she’s here. your ex girlfriend. the woman that captured you and held you away from your friends and loved ones.

“Hey there beautiful girl. what’re you doing around here?”

“you know i fucking live here, Acheron.”

as she steps closer she grabbed your arm, signaling to continue walking with her next to you, she’s attached to you like a koala.

“gimmie the keys, y/n.”

you slowly search for your keys. acheron got impatient, and snatches them from your hands.

“now be a good girl for me please. i don’t wanna put up a fight in public.”

you obey. as she opens the door to your home she locks the door behind you guys. Some time passes and no one has spoken. you gave up on waiting for her to speak first so you blurt out how you’re gonna take a shower.

“hey i’m gonna take a shower make yourself in my home i guess.”

“k pretty girl i’ll be right here.”

a singular sentence made you mad. you mutter under your breathe “yeah like u always are.”

it didn’t go unnoticed by the Galaxy Ranger. yet you noticed how she didn’t do anything about it but stare at you.

————————

As you’re showering you get lost in your own mind. why is she here? what does she want from you now? you just barely got away a couple month ago. she never exactly hurt you… physically. but she brought pain and sorrow to your life, and your friends and family. you went missing unexpectedly and when you returned you didn’t speak bad about her. how could u? she took care of you, fed you, washed your hair after a rough pounding, took care of any marks she left on you, and constantly showed affection. for her to not speak to you when she’s the one who rushed you home was concerning to you.

“hey..”

you felt cold hands on your waist. Acheron. Fuck. whys she here??

“Acheron. when’d you get in here?”

“i just got in, missed you.” she said as she slowly gave the back of your head a kiss.

”say it back damnit. don’t you miss me? you fucking ran away as if i didn’t give you my all.”

“i…. i missed you too.” you said quietly.

“mhm good girl. thank you”

“…. for what exactly?”

“for being my precious girl. don’t run from me ever again.”

you guys finish up the shower, lucky for you the most she did was grip your ass a bit, other than that she didn’t do anything to make you worry!

——————

“so. are you staying all night, acheron?”

“please, pretty girl. call me something other than my name.”

you decide to joke a bit, “okay bitch are u staying all night?” she didn’t like that.

“what the fuck? i do everything for you and you call me that? really, y/n.”

“do WHAT acheron? you kept me from my family and friends for months. u didn’t do shit, stop bullshitting me.”

within seconds you’re on the bed. acherons pretty purple hair laying off her shoulders and slightly ticking you. She’s not happy with you. :(

“i-i’m sorry. please acheron it was a joke!!”

“mhm just be good, yeah?”

she flips you over. pulls down the towel and you lay there helplessly naked. ass out and exposed for the galaxy ranger. seems like the galaxy isn’t the only thing she ranges hm? (LMAOOO)

1 slap. hot, hard and stinging your ass.

your breathe hitches.

2 slaps.

you’re in pain.

3 slaps. your eyes are tearing up.

“— don’t hear u”

“wha… whatd you say?”

“count. now we have to start over. keep track or i’m going it again.”

1 hard slap. “one..”

2 hard slaps “two..”

3 stinging slaps.. “three…”

after a couple of these you lose count. acheron doesn’t bother to let you count anymore. she needs you.

“you’re doing so good baby, your ass is all nice and red for me.”

“fuck you.”

her eyes widen. a visual expression of confusion and anger on her face.

“why can’t you accept my love hm? i’m trying so hard for you baby. i need you to behave for me.”

she lifts up your body until your face down ass up. she caresses the fat of your ass before she walks away. your left confused, wheres she going? but you soon feel the cold tip of her strap. well, tonight’s going great isn’t it.?

“you’re so wet for me baby, and you say u don’t want me? mmm….”

“just do it already”

“don’t mind if i do, such a pretty girl with a pretty display f’me.”

you feel the strap stretching you out. you whine alloud for her to hear. although you can’t see, she smiles. happy you’re finally accepting her. after training you for so long…you’re finally taking her like the good girl you are.

“ughh fuck acheron.. faster ….pleas-“ is all you can say before she pushes your head down lightly.

“ahh pretty girl i know what you need.”

she speeds up her movements, hitting that sweet spot in your walls, making you volt forward a bit.

“god i wish i had a real cock.. need to fill you up with my kids. make you a mama..”

“god acheron please i need it.”

she grunts. pushing deeper into you as if she’s trying to make you the mother of her children.

“…mm yeah pretty girl i’m giving it to ya. take it nicely alright?”

“yes yesyes whatever you say pls faster”

“mhm good girl” she thrusts faster, making that knot in your stomach form. as it comes undone so do you. the orgasm washes over you beautifully as she helps you from your high.

————

“i need more of you.” is all she says before she tells you to flip onto your legs. she spreads them open and cherishes how beautifully wet you were.

she climbs on top of you and holds onto your thigh, lining up your cunts and starts rubbing them together. clits deliciously rubbing together, moans synchronizing together, and sweat falling from your foreheads.

“god you’re so beautiful. if you ever leave me again i’ll lose my mind, y/n….”

after her sentence she comes undone as well. “augh fuckk” you say out loud, tired and hungry.

“mm that was great baby, i’m too tired to do more today. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay pretty girl? let’s get you cleaned up and some food, yeah? i’m hungry too yk”

idk the end, u guys watched tv and u fell asleep in her arms after making cookies LMAO

#acheron x reader #acheron #honkai star rail #wlw post #wlw nsft #penacony

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proudahgase-exol · 10 months

Text

Sex and after sex with exo

Ot9

I'm adding Jongdae because I want to 😁

This is 18+ if your a minor please skip 😊 🔞

Tbh I don't know what I was thinking when I made this all I know I had this idea at 3:40 am 😁 I hope you like this mess 😅

Xiumin:

He will like to have sex on the bed, and he also would like to do any position but his favorite might be doggy he seems to be that kind of man. He also might like to have sex in the couch if he feels like it.

After sex: he will clean you both up with a warm towel but if you had multiple rounds he will give you a bath and make sure your comfy in some soft clothes will cuddle well making a small conversation as you fall asleep on his chest.

Suho:

He would most likely have sex on the bed or couch on the bed he will have full power but on the couch, you take control he likes it when your ride him he will have a glass of wine in one hand well the other one is on your ass. He's sometimes supper soft and sweet but when he's stressed he will take it out on you by being rough. He likes to choke you and make you beg.

After sex: He’s a big aftercare guy who will make sure you all clean up and comfortable on the bed if he was rough he will be super gentle and kiss the bruises he left will give you a glass of water and cuddle you well he plays with your hair.

Lay:

He would also like to have sex on the couch or bed, he will most likely ask you to take control because he likes it when you dominate him, he also might like to have sex in his studio when he’s not too busy or when he super horny.

After sex: he will be super soft and sweet he will ask you to keep him inside for a bit but then he will get up and clean you up then he will cuddle you to sleep.

Baekhyun:

He’s a freak so anywhere we’re he can have you bend over it will be more than okay. he loves to slap your ass and leave marks. kitchen, bathroom, bedroom couch, stairs, bed anywhere he thinks it’s good to fuck he will and he also might record it for when he’s away and he misses you.

After sex: he will be super lazy to get up and clean you both up so you will have to do it yourself so when you try to stand up you will complain about how sore you are so he will get up and clean you both up but he will be teasing the shit out of you for that.

Jongdae:

He seems to like sex anywhere too but for some reason I see him having sex on the bedroom only he will catch you off guard sometimes it’s vanilla and sometimes is rough it all depends on his mood. When he wants vanilla he will go all out some nice home cook dinner and a movie then go from there, but when he wants it rough it shows just prepare yourself for a long night.

After sex: he will be super sweet clean you up well kiss the bruises and tells you that you were so good to him will make sure you're all comfortable before he gets next to you and cuddles you he might sing you to sleep (he have such a beautiful voice I love him)

Chanyeol:

At his studio….. he would love to record you guys having sex he loves the noise you make. He might also like car sex when he’s super horny he might love it when he’s driving and you're giving him a blowjob he likes to have passionate sex but when he’s angry or stressed he will fuck your brains out and make you beg him to stop but we both know we won't till he tired.

After sex: if you had sex in the studio he will clean you up and help you get dressed then he will make his studio couch, comfy for you he will pull some blankets and pillows out so you can take a nap well he finish working. But when you're at home he will refuse to get you clean up if he was gonna screw you again in a few hours.

Kyungsoo:

Shower sex or bedroom when he feels super romantic he will have sex on the bed but if he’s in the shower with you he will get had and just push you against the wall and fuck your right then and there he also will be into choking it turns him on.

After sex: he will ask you multiple times if you are okay or if he hurt you then he will get you clean up and cuddle you as you watch a movie or have a conversation he will rub your back softly till you both fall asleep

Kai:

For sure dance practice sex when you go and visit him he will ask you to join him and that will escalate into something more. It will be floor sex our mirror sex it all depends you also will get either Kai or Jongin one is rough and the other one is soft but both will mess you up and leave you sore.

After sex: if it was at the studio he will get you both dressed without getting cleaned up then will rush to get home to take a bath if you are lucky you might end up having bath sex but if not he will get you to bed and cuddle and will give you little kisses here and there

Sehun:

This mother fuckerlooks like he will enjoy car sex he likes the risk, and he will also like window sex he’s all about the risk of getting caught. He might also like to have sex on the living room or kitchen of the dorms. He seems to have strong stamina so a lot of sex with him he also will like it when you seat on his face he loves it.

After sex: you will take turns cleaning each other up and after he will take you to eat. If he sees you walk funny he will make fun of you and tease you then he will carry you around because he will feel bad but still proud.

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vampirevatican · 5 months

Note

Hi, hope you're doing well!!

I love your Judd works and was wondering what your headcanons are for Judd having a sensitive girlfriend...

Like, they're polar opposites. She's quiet, sweet, and tender hearted. She keeps to herself for the most part and is good at self-regulating her emotions, but when she gets too overwhelmed, upset, mad, or stressed, she totally breaks and has a hard time cooling down. How would Judd handle her strong emotions?

I think Judd being super soft only for his sensitive girlfriend is such a cute concept 🥺

Thank you sm!! <333

omg thank you, that's so sweet!! also...

'oh my goodness i love this question!!! um, i think...'

a super soft gf for judd?? just what the doc ordered tbh

i think he'd handle her big emotions differently, mainly depending on the situation

like say she's really pissed and is about to get into a fight? i don't think he'd stop her unless it wouldn't be good for her in the long run. like if it risks her bright future or he could see her having to go to hospital

when it comes to work? be it a job or school then he'd definitely make sure she got breaks before she breaks down or burns out completely

he'd probably give her a rage room, like he'd build a cutesy shed and the inside of it is where she can scream, throw, punch, kick and break things as much as she wants

he's very much an actions over words, ya know? although if she just needed him to sit with her for a bit and repeat reassuring phrases he would

he'd hold her close and rub her back, or play with her hair, kiss her forehead and the top of her head

god forbid his family caused the break down, you're just consistently in his room as prisoner and if you have to use the bathroom he's a body guard at that point

some additionals bc gosh this is cute (and brainrot tings)

he will not do the soft sanrio cutesy things with her like matching outfits... UNLESS she found a way to make badtz maru, or another all black sanrio character, more punk

hear me out please... i can picture him 'tolerating' a lot of cute stuff for her, especially if she pulls puppy eyes

the raccoons? consider some of them dressed up with bows, silly outfits or even glitter

his van? there's holographic and cute stickers on it sometimes and yes he rides in her car sometimes and accepts that it's decked out in full girly uniform

actually his favorite sticker on her bumper is a cute bunny that says, 'i know i have a cute ass. can you stop riding it?' or it's baby baphomet stickers he picked out for her by the same artist (tiktok mention)

whenever he picks outfits for her? she has to hide whatever black she has, lest it looks more pastel goth/grunge

he loves her dearly. this is a sun and moon dynamic. this is one of those 'if anything happens to them id kill everyone in the room and then myself.'

#.⁠｡⁠*⁠dingdong💌━♡#i hope you're doing well to and yw!!!#judd birch #judd birch x reader

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descendinginto-madness · 4 months

Text

welt except he has a fever and desperately needs sleep

cw: descriptions of illness, high fever, being kinda delirious/out of it, sleep deprivation?, nightmares, headaches, mentions of death

contains spoilers for welt's hi3 lore

also, disclaimer! welt in here is very reluctant to ask for help and feeling bad about it because... well i imagine he'd react like this, BUT! needing help and asking for it is completely normal and valid and okay; please remember that and take care of urself ok!! ily /p

alright, so...

i'm gonna be honest since i found @bugbytez13 's blog welt sickfic ideas don't want to leave my head LMAO except i will write a detailed description of a fic instead of the fic itself. that's it that's the post

tbh this ramble in particular could be made into two separate fanfics (one sickfic and one specifically about the nightmares) but shh

i will forever be self conscious or anxious about things i post that aren't just headcanons or silly little rambles, but also... writing this went surprisingly smoothly so! enjoy the essay or something idk HAHA

======================================

so, about welt...

i just know this man is going to force himself to stay awake. maybe his self-sacrificing issues are less present now, and he doesn't immediately throw himself in danger in every fight ever, but he's still stubborn as hell. so he won't admit something is wrong. he won't admit that maybe getting way too little sleep several days in a row wasn't doing wonders for his immune system and he's now finally feeling the consequences. to be fair, he expected it might end like this, but he didn't want to take breaks - there's still too many things to take care of before they finally head to penacony. and now, he will still insist of taking care of everything, even though his body is basically begging him to go take a nap.

except maybe, he didn't even expect it to get this bad. or thought that he can just power through it. i mean, he's been through much worse, right? this is nothing compared to literally losing his body for some time. but he's sitting in the parlor car, and he's half awake, and unusually cold, and his head is hurting, and keeping up the act is getting harder and harder - but he has to, because the younger members of the crew are here too, even if only march is talking to him.

but they pick up on the fact that something is wrong, of course they do. his eyes are unfocused, he looks like he's about to fall asleep - or pass out - and march had to repeat herself twice for him to even fully process what she was asking him, and so suddenly stelle is next to him, attempting to touch his forehead - and he recoils. "i'm fine," he says, and it's probably a bit too quick and a bit too firm than he'd like it to be, and all of this is stupid, really, because he shouldn't be scared of someone touching him. how hot can it really be anyway if he's feeling so cold, right? but if that wasn't enough dan heng asks an even more dreaded question, "are you sure, mr yang? do you want us to call himeko?" and welt decides it's time to excuse himself, before he makes them even more worried. because even in his present state, he can pick up on the fact they're concerned, but at the same time unsure of what to do, and it makes him feel guilty. of course they're unsure; he's usually their caretaker, and he always knows what to do, and it should never be the other way around. he should've just stayed in his room all day, shouldn't he.

"thank you all for your concern, but i'm alright." he stands up. "now, please excuse me, i still have some work to do." of course that's true, but he's almost certain he won't be able to focus on that- but he just needs an excuse to get out from here and be left alone anyway.

but stelle is right next to him, and looking determined to accompany him to his room, too. "you look like you're about to fall, mr yang," they explain, and he wants to insist that he's okay once again, but realizes he's too tired to do so. it would take him at least a few minutes, and it's a few minutes he doesn't have nearly enough energy for. he just wants to finally lie down. so, he lets stelle essentially escort him into the hallway and to his bedroom, and make sure he doesn't collapse on his way there, and-- it's embarassing, honestly, because it's already so difficult for him to show himeko the slightest hints that something might be wrong, and right now the situation is similar but ten times worse - so it's also ten times harder for him to come to terms with the fact he needs to rely on someone.

"my... apologies for making you all worry," he says quietly when they reach his room, and he's so thankful that he left the lights off, because the parlor car was way too bright, and though the hallway was a bit better, it still wasn't good.

"it's alright," stelle shakes her head, and stands there in the doorway, even as he heads towards his bed and sits down. "i'll ask himeko to check up on you in a bit?" she asks, and he only nods, though he isn't sure if she can actually see it. he doesn't want to talk anymore, he doesn't want to think because even just that seems to make his headache worse, he just wants stelle to leave, he just wants to sleep-- he isn't even sure if he understood her question correctly, but he also doesn't have the energy to care. he falls asleep the moment the door closes behind her, fully clothed and half covered with a thick blanket, but even then he isn't allowed a peaceful rest.

memories from old battles flash before his eyes, silhouettes of enemies he once fought, those against whom he won - but also of those who severly injured or even killed him, and with that come the memories of the pain

and the fear of losing his body again.

when he finally awakens, sweating, shaky for reasons other than his fever, and still feeling pretty awful, it takes him longer than usual to remember where he is. it takes him longer than usual to remember that he's safe.

but now there's medicine and a thermometer on his nightstand, and a note written in himeko's neat handwriting - though he actually spots and reads it some time later - telling him to rest as much as he needs to, because she'll take care of everything; and only after he does read it and feels a sense of relief come over him, he realizes how much the thought of having to leave all the work in order to take a break actually stressed him out. he still feels bad about it, because of course he does, and of course he's going to apologize to everyone later.

but he's also able to sleep more peacefully now.

#whump #whump writing #welt yang #honkai star rail #hsr #rambles #hsr headcanons #headcanon #stelle #march 7th #dan heng #ig these three are here for a bit!#sickfic #angst?#hurt/comfort #i guess #himeko #dim writing ☁️

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myg-butterfly · 1 year

Text

Goodnight (Love)

Jimin x Reader – Spy!Au

Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff, Enemies(?)/Lovers(?), Non-Idol Au, One-Shot

Part 2

Summary: You and Jimin hold an unwavering grudge against each other, but for what reason? Or, when you and Jimin get partnered for a case together, emotions arise, and so do the stakes. Pride and vulnerability are an explosive pair; will you both set each other off into flames?

Warnings (Buckle up folks because there's a lot): THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF HARASSMENT AND IMPLICATIONS OF S/A!!! DO NOT READ IF THOSE TOPICS ARE TOO HARSH FOR YOU!!! Angst, panic attacks, anxiety, descriptions of violence (like a single fight), sexual assault (no non-con sex happens i swear), misogyny if you squint, Jimin is an asshole at times, trauma, trauma flashbacks, horrible communication tbh, implied abuse, implied s/a

Disclaimers: I am in no way, shape, or form trying to romanticize these sensitive topics, I simply want to show that comfort can be found after said situations. Please do not leave any comments about glamorizing any of the topic.

A/N: Hello hi author here! I haven't thoroughly proof read this oopsies but we'll get there when we get there. There's a lot of time-skips in this btw, and I also just made shit up because I don't really have any clue as to what spies or agents do or whatever (lol)

Taglist: @screamertannie

main masterlist

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"This mission is risky, as it's heavily reliant on precision and strategy, so we'll have to be very careful with who we send."

"I have the perfect pair in mind."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"You're fucking kidding me."

Jimin stares in disbelief at his bosses, Seokjin and Namjoon, not knowing why they thought it would be a good idea to partner you together.

"I don't care whatever personal vendetta y'all have against each other, you both are the most reliable option we have. So put your willy-nillies aside and get your head in the game."

Namjoon shoots Jin a disapproving glare at his choice of words.

"Please never say willy-nilly again."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You never thought it was possible for so much tension to fit inside a singular car, yet you and Jimin seemed to be breaking that record currently:

"Listen, I want to get this done as soon as possible, so please just listen to me and do what I tell you and I can finally stay away from your annoying ass."

"As long as you listen to me as well, it'll be a smooth sail."

"And why do I have to listen to you?"

"We listen to each other, it's called teamwork; hence the fact that we're a team, and we work tog-"

"I know what teamwork is – I'm not stupid. But I specialize in retrieving information, so I think we both know who has sufficient knowledge to lead this case."

"One of the requirements to be recruited is being able to safely retrieve information, so technically even though I'm not centered in the encryption department, we still have the same level of expertise in the field of-"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?"

"I do."

"Great well do that now."

"If it means you stop running your mouth as well then I will."

It isn't that Jimin hates you specifically, he just hates how stoic you are all of the time. No matter what case you had to take on, what was going on around you, your cold demeanor never faltered — and that pissed Jimin off.

I mean, who were you to be so stand-offish to all of your colleagues? Did you think you were better than everyone else? Is that why you never spoke up unless you were giving your 2 cents on the approach the organization should take on the case given. And it pissed him off even more how you were always right, how Namjoon and Jin always agreed with whatever you had to say.

Jimin didn't hate you specifically, but he hated your face and how nice it was to look at and your annoyingly smart brain and your voice that was so soothing to listen to.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"Jimin, I'm telling you, having me go undercover isn't safe or efficient. The man who has the information we need is kno-"

"Are you admitting that you don't have the guts to complete this mission? What happened to commitment?"

Strategizing with Jimin felt like being a court trial where anything and everything you said would be used against you.

"I am committed. That's why I'm telling you that this isn't a good strategy."

"And why not? We've used it countless times before and it's worked, what's different now? All those men are the same, just play them to your will. Is that really so hard for you to do?"

"It's not good because it's not safe. Chances are that not only will I walk out of there severely injured, but you will too. And what happens then?"

"All I'm hearing is that you're too scared to do it. If that's the case, then why don't you just go home? I can even go ahead and call Jin hyung and tell him that you chickened out-"

"I am not chickening out."

"Then just trust my plan, princess. It's never failed me, and it's not going to start now."

"....... Fine. But don't call me that."

"No can do, princess."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

As you walk into the large fancy venue where the event was being held, the urge to run and hide became much more prominent.

You doubt that he remembers you, you were small when it happened, and now you'd grown.

That should bring some form of comfort, but it doesn't.

Because even if he doesn't recognize you, you would never be able to forget those months.

What he did changed you as a person forever, and for the worse as well.

You walk tentatively, saying hello to people you come across, until you find who you're looking for.

Upon seeing his face, it felt like a kick had just impacted your gut, like if you were dumped into a freezing lake with nothing on. Your mouth dried and the room began to spin, and you almost ran away, almost cowered back to safety, but you were stopped by-

"Dumbass, he's right there all by himself. Approach him, quick."

Hesitantly you started your way towards him.

"Jimin, turn my earpiece's mic sensitivity up."

"Why?"

"Please, I need you to be able to catch anything."

"Fine."

Seeing he was grabbing a glass of wine by himself, you took the opportunity to slide in next to him.

"Excuse me, sir? Do you happen to know what kind of wine this might be?"

"Cherry wine, madam. Would you like to try one?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

"It's no problem. If you don't mind me asking, is someone accompanying you tonight?"

"Oh, no. I'm here by myself. I got invited by mutual friends."

"Ah, I see. So then, you wouldn't mind joining me tonight? I have a table right over there if you'd like to sit."

"I'd love to join you. Please, lead the way."

After some brief moments of small talk, Jimin gives you the okay to start trying to pull information out of him.

"This venue is so lovely, I wish I could see all of it in full." You started prying. "Well, actually, one of my closest partners runs the venue, if you'd like I could ask him if it's okay for me to give you a tour?"

"Would you really?"

"Of course, anything for such a delightful woman as yourself."

"Oh, you're too kind."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

The tour was going well as good as your given position allowed. You managed to ask about almost each room, giving Jimin any helpful information through your earpiece.

That was until you got to the third floor.

You were trying as hard as you could to push through being in his presence, when you'd been going up the stairs you stumbled for a second, and his hand reached out to "stabilize" you. You managed to regain your balance, still his wrinkled hand remained on the small of your back, a little lower than appropriate, and that was all it took to push you to the edge.

"Um, excuse me, do you mind if we pause for a short while so I can use the restroom?"

"That's totally okay. Do you want me to lead you to the one on this floor?"

"Oh, no. Thank you, I'll use the one from the previous floor. You can wait for me here. I won't be long."

Running down the stairs quickly, your head began to spin with fear.

All of the haunting memories you'd managed to drown out in the deepest parts of your brain resurfaced within a flash, and suddenly its like if you were back where you were less than two years ago.

Rough hands around your waist, liquor scented breath hitting your face, the cold air biting your exposed skin – you remembered it so vividly that you could almost feel it happening to you.

You could feel the harsh tone of voice, taunting you, painting you with shame.

'You should be thankful for all that I do for you. I'm the only person that can stand you after all.'

"Why the hell are you going to the bathroom? Don't stall, you idiot. We need to get this done."

"Right. Yeah. Right."

You stood up and walked towards the door, but you couldn't bring yourself to twist the doorknob. The thought of having to continue with him had your breathing quickening, and your vision shaking, it was all too much at once.

All Jimin could hear was your shallow breathing, and strangely, he found himself growing worried.

"Y/N? What's going on?"

"I can't- I can't do it-"

"What do you mean?"

"I- I need to get out of here."

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I can't be here, please Jimin."

Jimin burrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what caused you to get so worked up. He was even more confused when he felt himself progressively getting more concerned for your well-being.

"Where are you right now?"

“Um, a bathroom in floor 2."

"And you told the guy to stay in the third floor, right?"

"Yeah." You hear Jimin sigh, and you know he's upset with you, but your brain can't fully process that right now.

"I can't believe you're actually pussying out of this right now."

"Jimin, please."

The crack in your voice left an uncomfortable buzz in his chest, and Jimin found himself caving in.

"Okay, fine. I'll find a distraction for him so you can leave while he's busy. Only because we stil have tomorrow to do this and we've made progress."

"Thank you-"

"Don't, we still have to get this shit done tomorrow."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You thought you'd be relieved as you finally got the chance to run out of the building, but guilt was heavy on your chest. The sound of Jimin's frustrated voice made you uneasy; you've never really been on his good side, but hearing him sound so disappointed in you drilled a hole into your pride.

He watches you as you open the car door and clumsily jump in, and Jimin can't stop his frown from deepening further when he sees your usually sparkly eyes tainted a light color of red, one that matches your nose and cheeks. You take his expression as one of disapproval, and you shrink in your seat, hoping that it'll swallow you whole. You were triggered as it is, an angry Jimin would not help you whatsoever.

Obviously, the only thing he could come up with was to scold you, because what else was he supposed to do? Wipe away your tears gently and destroy anything that would cause those tears to resurface? Yeah, of course not. Not that he wouldn't be willing to if you asked him, but he'll try to convince himself it's only because he's a good person. No ulterior motive.

"This better be a one time thing, eh? No one wants to work with someone unreliable, and leaving was one hell of a liability."

"I know."

"Then why did you do it?"

The words got stuck in your throat; you couldn't tell him that this guy had abused you for years on end of your adolesence. You refused to let anyone see that side of you.

"It wasn't safe, and it wasn't worth risking it."

"I didn't see any threats in the security cameras, and everything in your earpiece sounded fine. What was unsafe?"A tentative moment of silence passes before:

"Him."

You spoke so softly that you thought Jimin hadn't heard you, until you heard a sigh from him.

"We work with dangerous people all the time, there's no difference here, princess."

The name had clear condecendicy laced within it, and it made the sting in your eyes return quickly; it reminded you of him, and now the memories were fresh. You turned your face out the window, hoping that Jimin didn't catch sight of them.

But he did, and great. What else is he supposed do? to destroy himself then? Being harsh is supposed to be what keeps you from getting hurt by him, so why is that no matter what he does, the outcome is always rough?

The rest of the car ride was silent, the emptyness of nightfall very clear amongst the dark.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"Will you stop moving so goddamn much? Some of us are trying to sleep here."

"Why are you referring to yourself with plurality? The only ones here are you and I, and your comment is directed at me so-"

"It's too late for your smartass."

"Well, it's currently 1 in the morning, so technically-"

"Less talking more sleeping."

"Okay."

You'd stopped moving, and Jimin was about to completely pass out, when the shuffling started again.

"Y/N I swear to god-" he groaned, annoyed that you interrupted his sleep again.

But when he looked over, you were sitting up on your bed, a pained expression covering your face.

Jimin sighed and sat up as well, mumbling under his breath about how 'it's always something with you'. Still he asked:

"What happened now?"

You hesitated to answer before responding.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"Do what?"

"Send me in there, knowing who he is?”

"I genuinely don't have a clue of what you're talking about."

"I knew you hated me but I really didn't think you would go to such lengths."

"Stop speaking in riddles and just say whatever it is you want to say."

"Do you really not know about him?"

"Stop acting like you know better than I do just because you know about some rando that I've never heard of."

"I'm not trying to act like I know better, because I do know better. I know who we're up against, and I know that Seokjin and Namjoon would agree that sending me in there by myself is a shit decision."

"Why would they give us the case then if it's so dangerous, huh? Maybe you're just too much of a scaredy-cat to handle this case. Why don't you go and whine to our bosses that the task is 'too hard' if you're so set on them agreeing with you?"

Jimin's words felt like a stab straight through your heart, and all you could do was bleed out in silence.

"If I were them, I'd be real disappointed if someone I handpicked for a job as prestigious as this one called me and told me they didn't wanna do it because it's too hard."

The mention of disappointing your bosses made your stomach twist with anxiety. Just when you'd begun to learn to protect yourself, you're suddenly getting berated for it?

"Do you want me to complete this task or not?"

"Of course I fucking do. That's why I'm telling you that you need to suck it up."

"Degradation isn't going to motivate me, so you can stop trying to make me feel like shit. Are you happy? Because it sure is working."

"See? This is what I mean. For someone who acts so stoic all the time you sure are goddamn sensitive."

"Jimin, please. Drop it. I get it. You win."

"Stop whin- wait, what?"

You blinked at Jimin, before sighing and laying back down, shuffling around and throwing a blanket over your head.

For some reason, this made his heart twist in an uncomfortable way.

Jimin took a deep breath and told himself that it definitely wasn't because he felt like crying at seeing your defeated expression, he was just shocked that you didn't continue arguing with him.

Yeah. That's what it is. Totally what it is.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Day 2 of the event begins, and your fear is drowned out enough to tolerate it by your desperation to get this over with.

"Okay, he's in there. Go. No chickening out this time, okay?"

"Yes. Whatever."

"Good."

You find him standing by the small bar they have across the venue, and you muster up any remaining strength inside yourself as you begin to approach the man who haunts your every move.

"What kind of wine are you honoring tonight?" You use the same conversation starter as last time, and the guy jumps; you caught him off-guard.

"Oh, my dear, it's you. I am so glad we meet again." His smirk grew, and if you didn't know any better, you would think that it's one of excitement rather than perversion.

"So am I."

"I was afraid you'd pulled a classic Cinderella on me after that first night, I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"Oh, I apologize for leaving so abruptly. Something I ate gave me a stomach bug, and I decided it'd be best to go rest before it could get worse. I'm just thankful it cleared up before the event ended."

"I am deeply grateful as well, I don't think I could've bared to not see you again. Say, why don't we actually complete our tour around the venue tonight."

"That would be lovely."

You had always hated how snobby rich people spoke, as if everything was fancy and business. The formalities and outdated vocabulary made you irrationally angry, and you weren't sure how much longer you were going to withstand this entire thing.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Thankfully, you lasted a pretty good while. Everything seemed to be going as planned; you asked questions, he blabbered on and on about whatever you asked, he got more comfortable and started spilling more and more, and Jimin got more information.

“This floor is my favorite.” He says once you finish taking the flight of stairs you were just on.

“Oh, really? May I ask why?”

“My personal room is up here, it's supposed to be a guest room but since I spend my days here frequently, it's practically become my bedroom.”

“That sounds very comfortable. The people who own this place seem to show genuine hospitality.”

“They indeed do. And I was thinking, maybe I could follow in their steps, and extend that hospitality to you?”

“What does this said hospitality consist of?” You were skeptical, the glint in his eyes was evidently one that was ready to strike knives into your chest.

“Reconnection. Mending broken bonds. Making up for all our time lost.”

Your heart began beating rapid and panicked, afraid of what implications come with his statement. He seems to notice your expression fall, as he starts to laugh and even doubles over. Once he composes himself, he immediately makes his way towards you, the change in demeanor too quick to even respond.

"You really thought I wouldn't recognize you doll? Hmm?" He circles around you slowly.

It feels like you've fallen through a sink hole into the midst of hell hearing his words, it's suffocating, so much so that you're sure you won't make it out in one piece this time around.

"To be fair, you have changed a lot. You look much more mature, womanhood has treated you well." It takes everything in you to not break as he grabs your chin between his fingers, Jimin's voice playing on repeat in your head - 'no chickening out this time'.

You swallow and take a second to compose yourself, before speaking again.

"May we please continue our tour?"

"No need to hide from me, little one. I'd always told you, you'd come running back to me one day; and here you are. No need to be embarrassed about it, I'm more than happy to have you again."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Jimin's blood runs cold when he hears what the man is saying; did you know him before? What history could you possibly have with this man?

"I'm n- not hiding. I just simply wish to continue looking around."

"Oh, trust me, dear. We'll have plenty of time to look around. But first, don't you wanna go somewhere private? So we can, reconnect?"

A shiver runs down your spine out of pure fear, and you're not sure if you can back down this time.

"Um, I don't know. I don't want to be gone for too long."

"No one will notice dear." He leans in closer to your face. "I know you want this just as much as I do."

His suggestive tone has you feeling sick to your stomach, and you pray to whoever sits above that Jimin realizes what's happening and comes to help you. You aren't sure what you had ever done to turn the universe against you, but you knew your prayers weren't heard when Jimin responds through your earpiece.

"Go. If you're worried about anything getting out of hand, I have this planned out. Just go."

You didn't know what plan Jimin had up his sleeve, but his annoyed expression on your face were imprinted in your mind, his words from the previous night still heavy: ‘If I were them, I'd be real disappointed if someone I handpicked for a job as prestigious as this one called me and told me they didn't wanna do it because it's too hard.’

"Okay, take me with you."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

He leads you to up another set of stairs, and into different hallways, before stopping in front of two big doors. You watch as he takes a key out of the inside pocket in his coat, and he opens the door, letting you step inside first and following after you. The room was spacious and slightly dark, the only light entering through the window from the lights outside.

"Ask him what part of the building you guys are in."

"This room is beautiful, what part of the building are we in?"

“It is quite luxurious, huh? This is the fifth floor. Main hallway, 3rd door. If you ever want to pay a visit, you're more than welcome to stop by.”

Jimin quickly jots down the room, and you hope he's satisfied, because you're shaken with fear at this man’s words. He locks the door from the inside, and proceeds to move toward you.

"He has a key, right?"

"Ah, yes." Pause. "I'll keep that in mind."

He smiles at you and grabs your wrist, walking towards the large bed in the middle of the room.

"Okay, get his key. Do whatever it takes, just get your hands on it."

He sits on the bed and grabs you by the hips, pulling you down with him.

"I can't believe I have you all for myself again. Even if its just tonight." You feel his fingers in your hair; the thought of shaving your head crosses your mind. If it means getting rid of any trace of him, you'd do it.

"Your features may be a little more grown, but you're still that innocent little sweetheart that I've always known."

His face seems so close; your body falls cold with fear.

"Tell me, how much have you missed me, sweetheart?"

He gets scoots even closer and cups your cheeks, running a thumb over your lips. He gets even closer, and all you can do is swallow and curse Jimin, because why isn't he doing anything to help you?

"I thought you would've learned to use your words by now." He chuckles, you wait for a hand across your cheek.

"Stupid little girl. Aren't you glad I'm so forgiving?"

He leans closer again, your foreheads touching at this point.

"I'll let you show me with your actions. Come on, show me."

Your breath hitches in dread, but he takes this a good sign. He kisses you and you do your best to "kiss" him back without actually doing any kissing. You tug on his coat, hoping he gets the message to take it off, and thankfully – you're not sure this is the right word – he does. As he shrugs it off, he keeps kissing you, and you take the chance to grab it from the inside, and flip it around so the key falls into your lap. You quickly put the key in your dress pockets and you toss the coat across the room in attempt to mask it as a move of interest.

He notices that his coat is gone, and it prompts him to begin trying to remove your corset. You realize that this is your chance to communicate with Jimin, though you're not sure if he can hear you if the silence from his side is anything to go by, while also prompting the man to get off of you.

"I've got it."

"You got the key?" So Jimin can hear you. You don't know if what fills your gut is relief or anger.

"Let me do it." He grips your hands and puts them aside, continuing to undo it himself.

"Yeah." You respond to Jimin. Pause. "I've got it, its fine. It'll be faster this way."

"Okay, we'll get him distracted now." Once again, you're torn between relief and anger.

"Don't you wanna take it slow? Enjoy our sweet time together?" His lips on your neck, and his hands getting lower and lower. You start to cry. Thankfully, he doesn't notice, because the intercom system im the building blares: "The auction is about to begin, 5 to auction." Hearing this, you take your chance to push him away, trying to get yourself back together.

"We should go, we wouldn't want to miss this." You move to get up, but he locks you within his arms.

"It's okay, you're the one thing I want."

"People will notice that we're missing."

"They won't. And if they do, let them. I'm more than glad to show you off."

He keeps on untying your corset, and panic starts to flow more prominently through your body as you realize that he isn't going to let this go easily.

"I really think we should go back. What if we miss something important?"

"Shhhh. Let this happen."

Another announcement blares through the intercom, but he doesn't even flinch this time.

"Auction is now beginning."

"Let's stop. I don't want to miss it."

He doesn't stop.

Doesn't even do a double take.

"If you want something from the auction, I'll get it for you. I'll even pay double the price. But I'm not letting anything take this away from me. I've been waiting to feel you for years. I'm not letting you go now."

You're on the border of cracking as he gets lower on the strings of your corset, not sure if you're gonna be able to get out of this unharmed. He moves to suck on your neck, and that's when you break.

"I don't, I don't want to."

"You're just nervous. I know you want this."

You shake your head, your whole body is visibly trembling now.

"I don't want to."

"Be good and stop talking."

He finally gets to the last string when his phone rings behind him.

He ignores it.

You pry him on.

"Are you not gonna take that?"

"Nothing is going to interrupt this."

"What if it's important?"

"What did I say? Be quiet. Why is it that now you're all chatter, but when I asked you earlier, not even a peep? It's like you want me to punish you."

A sob escapes you; where the fuck is Jimin?

He takes your corset off, leaving you almost bare.

"Such a pretty little thing."

All you can think is that 'This is it. This is it. What did I do to have to go through this again? Why is it tha-"

"I'm on my way up. I'll be there in a moment. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I'm coming."

You let out another sob at this.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Jimin feels like his heart flew out from his chest because of how hard it was pounding.

He's desperate to get you out of there, and Jimin didn't know what to do.

His original plan to get the man distracted by random interruptions wasn't working, and he knew going up there on his own was risky, but listening to your situation made him sick.

He knew one of the guys on his usual team, Yeonjun, was monitoring the assignment, as they always have someone on standby in chances of emergency.

With his mind made up, he lets him know that he's gonna go in, but he isn't too fond of the idea.

"No, Yeonjun. You don't get it. I have to go up. He's- he's hurting her."

"You'll get caught. Especially if you and Y/N leave together."

"I have to go."

"Jimin-"

"Sorry, I have to get to her."

The line disconnects.

He was coming now.

Getting to you was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You can't bare to watch as the man takes his own shirt off, and you feel like you could throw up at any moment.

"I'm on the fifth floor. Toss the key under the door if you can."

At this, your only string of thought consisted of 'Jimin's here' 'Toss the key' 'Jimin's here' 'Toss the key'

You quickly reach into your pockets and let the key drop by your feet, and you kick it so it's by the door. An eternity of seconds pass by, your brain simply chanting 'Jimin, Jimin, Jimin'

Everything happens so quickly that you don't even have time to process what's happening before Jimin tackles the old man. He punches and pounds, and all you can do is watch in horror as both men begin to swing at each other. You have no clue what to do, but thankfully, Jimin manages to catch him off-guard and injects him with a tranquilizer.

It's strong enough to paralyze him on the ground, but simultaneously doesn't knock him unconscious.

You run to put your shirt on and rush to look for the flash drive that's meant to have all the information you're looking for. Despite your frantic state, you miraculously find it in a drawer, relieved and ready to show Jimin.

But when you turn around, he's still on top of the man, beating him like a crazed man.

"You. Fucking. Bastard. How. Dare. You. Touch. Her. I will fucking kill you." He says in between punches.

He kicks, stomps, punches, even pulls out his blade, and he doesn't stop until he feels you tug from behind him, hearing your attempts to hold back sobs from escaping you.

Even as you're trembling, you hold up the small flash drive in your hand.

Jimin stares in shock for a few seconds, confused as to how you still went to look for the files even with the state you're in.

He looks back at the man on the floor, bloodied and now unconscious.

You wouldn't be surprised if Jimin beat him to death.

A pause of silence engulfs both of you, before he interrupts it.

"Let's go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let's go. We'll talk later. Come on."

You moved to step towards the door, but you were filled with such panic that your legs were giving out on you.

He stepped towards you, but you recoiled.

He knew that this reaction was to be expected, but it still felt like a flame was burning his chest seeing you jump away from him, looking absolutely terrified.

You stumbled and wobbled, but you were insistent on walking on your own.

Jimin respected your boundaries, but when you almost tumbled down the stairs, he couldn't take it anymore.

“Do you want me to carry you back to the car? It'll get us out of here quicker, you're gonna hurt yourself .”

He saw your facial expressions change multiple times in that short moment before you stepped toward him and let him lift you off the ground. You were tense, any touch making your head spin but feeling how securely Jimin is holding you, you can't help but loosen up a tiny bit.

Feeling you shake in his grasp, it hit Jimin like a bag of bricks; you had been one of his victims. That's why you told him that it wasn't safe for you.

How could he have missed this?

You'd been brought back to hell after finally escaping it, and it was Jimin himself that dropped you right back into the gates of it. Maybe if he had listened to you when you said it wasn't a good idea, maybe you wouldn't be shutting down right in front of his own eyes, wouldn't be shaking uncontrollably, wouldn't be face to face with a monster you were to never see again.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

In the car, you can't stop clawing at yourself in the passenger seat, unsure of how to get rid of all the anger and anxiety in you.

Jimin kept peeking from your eyes and back to the road, and for some reason, this made you angry; not in a scream and throw things way, but in a sob angry tears with harsh breaths until you pass out way.

“What did it cost you to listen to me? Your pride? Is your pride worth the touch of that monstrosity?"

"I'm sorry."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You get to the hotel and rip the dress off of you, wiping your lips and scrubbing your hands furiously, you pull your hair in desperation.

Everything feels so wrong and overbearing, it feels like its the end of the world.

Jimin feels like his world is crumbling at the same time that you are.

He goes to make you some tea, anything that will make you feel even the tiniest bit better. Seeing you in so much distress left only 2 things swirling around his head.

The first one being: He would, in fact, do anything to take back everything he's said, and to protect you from any harm that may come your way.

The second: He is so emotionally constipated.

Instead of letting himself understand and acknowledge what he feels for you, he put up a big fucking barrier, and now he’s responsible for your breaking point. Maybe if he could've been honest with himself, maybe if he had been gentler with you–

Well, there's no point in dwelling over it now, so instead he approaches you and removes your hands from your head to stop you from pulling your hair.

"Y/N? You're gonna hurt yourself."

"I don't care." You try to pull your hands away, but Jimin clasps them against his own.

"I made you some tea, it's in the nightstand by your bed. Go drink it while I put on a bath for you. And grab clothes once you're done."

You weren't sure what it was, anger? Gratefulness? Appreciation? Resentment? But something was coursing through your veins, and it all was clearly directed at Jimin. Feeling frustrated and confused, you broke down into sobs once more.

"We don't have to do anything, but I think getting washed up will help you feel better. Whatever you wanna do. Just, please don't cry, I don't like it when you cry.”

You look up and find Jimin crouching in front of you; his stare so soft that you think he might actually care. You can't help it – you launch yourself towards Jimin, neither of you are sure if it's an attempt at a hug or at knocking him down.

He wraps his arms around you and you begin to hit at his chest, your frustration and hurt showing themselves.

"Why didn't you listen to me?! I didn't want to tell you! You should've just listened to me! Then I wouldn't be hurt! It hurts, Jimin. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts."

You repeat that phrase over and over again until your breakdown begins to falter into hiccups, energy gone, and you melt into Jimin's embrace. The room is suddenly still, the only existing thing being you and Jimin on the floor, crying out hurt and apologies.

When he clutches so hard onto your shirt that his knuckles turn white, you know that he didn't mean to do it on purpose, that he's genuinely sorry for how things went down. And when you hug him back and shuffle closer to him, he knows you're willing to forgive him, you don't blame him for the decisions he made.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Things feel fuzzy after that. Not necessarily in a bad way, there's just too much delicacy in the air for you to process things properly.

The cup of tea is warm in your hands as you wait for Jimin to finish filling up the bathtub.

After some quiet moments, he walks out of the bathroom and throws an apologetic smile your way.

"You're all set. I'll be out here, shout if you need anything."

"Okay."

You do think initially that a bath will help you relax, maybe get rid of some of the squeezing tension in your muscles, but it becomes clear that your mind won't be able to handle something as simple as undressing and getting into the tub.

Marks brokenly painted across your skin catching your stare, you needed to be forced out of it.

Even as you slowly climbed into the tub and sat down, the only thing running through your head was the image of your scarred form.

You cry out Jimin's name.

"Is everything okay?"

You beg the words to leave your tongue.

"Stay. Please."

Your voice is small and tired, and his heart jumps in a mix of adoration and pain, because you are ever so lovely, but you're hurt, and you're hurt because of him and his pride.

"Okay. I'll stay."

He takes a seat on the closed toilet, and you stare at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to ask for the support you need.

"I- can y- my hair."

Finally, it comes out strangled, but it comes.

"What about your hair?"

Jimin moves closer when you fuss a little at his question, splashing the water while doing so.

You rake your hands through your hair aggressively, and he thinks he understands what you're trying to say.

"Do you want me to help you wash it?"

Your face visibly softens – similarly to Jimin's heart – and you let out a little sound of confirmation.

"Okay, are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, pass me the bottle."

The warm water is soothing on your scalp and you feel yourself relaxing as soon as the shampoo touches your head.

“Sorry if I pull your hair.”

When you feel Jimin’s fingers raking across your hair, you start to cry again.

The way he gently rubs your hair makes you overwhelmed with a warm feeling that fills your chest at being handled so tenderly for the first time in so long.

"Love, why are you crying?"

If Jimin was already panicked at your tears, he’s utterly mortified now that the term of affection slipped out accidentally.

Thankfully, it seems like you're too caught up in enjoying the feeling to notice what he just called you.

“Thank you.”

His hand movements stopped for a second to think about his next words before resuming with a sigh.

"Don't thank me. I fucked up so bad. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I should've just listened to you. I'm so sorry."

Jimin's voice cracked, and it looked like he was going to start crying too.

Once he was done, he went to grab a towel, and you stopped him by putting a hand on top of his.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm still really sorry. You shouldn't have gone through any of that."

You simply hummed as a response, and you both knew that it meant forgiveness.

The moment felt so soft, soft in the way you were looking at each other, soft like the butterflies in your stomach, it was all just really, really soft.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

That didn't last too long though, because sleep has never come easy to you, and the events of this day only worsened it.

Every time you closed your eyes, his sickening face would appear in front of you. You could almost feel the way he gripped onto your skin, bruising it.

You could feel yourself falling into a panic spiral again, and your brain's first instinct for whatever reason was 'where's Jimin?’

You sat up and saw him fast asleep on his bed, and you grew hesitant.

What if he gets mad that you woke him up? What if he laughs at you? He's gonna tell you to toughen up.

But then you think back to how he's acted ever since he went to get you.

That wasn't just temporary, right? Was it just pity? Was he only nice to relieve himself of any guilt?

Your overthinking mixed with your already panicked state, and you once again felt like things were crumbling all around you.

You showed Jimin your weakest parts, he can surely use that against you. He probably thinks you're even more pathetic now. He's gonna tell everyon-

"Y/N? What's going on?"

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't realize how loud your sobs had gotten, nor that they'd woken Jimin up.

You looked up in horror as you realized that he was sitting on your bed, watching you cry.

The concerned look in his eyes only made you cry harder. You wanted to fall into his comfort, wanted to believe that he genuinely cared about you, but at the same time you were convinced that he was just pretending.

"Don't act like you care."

“Huh?”

"I know you're only being nice to me out of pity, you can drop the act now."

Your words came out broken and between sobs. After you finished your sentence your breathing quickened again.

Jimin felt his heart being shredded into pieces as he saw your state. Did you really think that he hated you?

He could deal with that later, right now his main priority was getting your breathing regulated.

"Come here, we're gonna breathe together, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You were hesitant to approach him, but the offer of closeness was too inviting for you to turn down.

Jimin waited until you were seated directly in front of him before continuing.

"Hands on your belly. Now breathe in, and out."

It took a while before you were breathing again, but now Jimin could tackle the second issue at hand.

“What can I do to help you?”

Jimin sees the distrust on your face at his words and his chest squeezes sadly.

"I'm not doing this to get rid of guilt or anything like that, if that's what's running through your head."

“How do I- know that you're not just saying that to say it?"

Oh what Jimin wouldn't do to hand you the world.

"If I genuinely didn't care I wouldn't be here right now. You'd know if I was lying."

You think to yourself before giving into his offer with a small nod. Jimin smiles at your response.

“Do you need a distraction? Comfort? Water?”

“I think– I think comfort.”

"Okay. Do you want cuddles?"

Your brain short circuited, and Jimin took your silence as discomfort, so he rambled on.

"When I was younger, if I was ever scared of something, my mom would cuddle me and it always made me feel better. If you're not comfortable that's fine, I just think it would help."

You took a second to digest what Jimin had just asked you, never in a million years imagining you'd hear him asking you that, before nodding your head.

"Okay then, come here." Jimin laid down facing you and opened his arms expectantly, so you scooted closer to him and let him embrace you.

There's an inexplicable safety you felt surrounding him that had you melting into his hold. For the second time that day, his fingers gently played with your hair and you felt your walls come down a little further, warmth encasing both of you.

"You're so warm."

"Fuck do you think I am, a reptile? Of course l'm warm."

You scoffed at Jimin’s words, but stayed snuggled into him nonetheless.

"Are you uncomfortable?" You asked him.

"No. I'll let you in on a little secret of mine. I love cuddles. But only from specific people. But don't tell anyone.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips at his words, and Jimin decides that it's now his new favorite sound.

You pull back so you and Jimin are eye to eye; you want to speak but words are hard to convey.

“What's on your mind?” He's attentive, eyes searching yours for any hurt or worry.

“Do you cuddle with all your mission partners?” You try to lighten the mood and he laughs, so you assume it worked.

“No, only with the ones I like.”

His voice is soft when he says this, and it makes you melt a bit more.

“I really did think you hated me at one point.”

“I never did, I'm just very emotionally constipated. In all honesty I really do admire you, but I forced myself to see you as competition to avoid any of the weird emotional shit. Looks like it didn't work.” He finishes his sentence with a bitter chuckle; shame evident in his voice.

“I mean, I wasn't really all that nice to you either.” You try to easy his guilt.

“I wish we would've gotten off on the right foot.”

“Me too. But what's done is done.”

“I'm really sorry for not listening to you. I thought you were saying all of those things just to mess with me, but now I realize how stupid my logic sounds. Hearing what was happening over your microphone had me sick to my stomach. I can't even imagine how it must've felt for you.”

“It felt like my world was ending, honestly.” Your voice is quiet, but not enough to conceal how it cracks while tears pool in your eyes again.

“I never thought I would see him again. I'm still so scared, Jimin.” You begin to hiccup sobs, and he wastes no time in pulling you closer.

“It's okay. He's never coming near you again. I promise. You're safe, okay?” Jimin's voice was soft, feeling the way his chest vibrates against your head that's now tucked under it only helped calm you further.

You both remain like this until you've completely stopped crying and relaxed in his arms. Everything around you felt warm and tender, lulling you into deep sleep.

The last thing your brain manages to process is a soft kiss on your forehead, and words that sound a lot like:

“Goodnight, love.”

188 notes · View notes

codloverrr · 1 year

Text

Can we be fr and just agree people have a certain scent? Like some people smell like pine wood or other cigarettes so because of this I'm going to do a hc for slahsers of what I think they smell like

Including: vincent and bo sinclair, RZ Mikey, Thomas hewitt, bubba swayer.

SLASHERS AND WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE

BUBBA SWAYER

Sweat, this baby boi doesn't know much about hygiene, therefore wouldn't know what deodorant is 😭🤚

• I would also like to include that he would smell of dampness, y'know how after it rains and you just smell the wetness (that sounds totally wrong🥲) but yeah that, that's what he smells like lmao

• let's be honest, he doesn't bruh his teeth at all, like he don't even know what deodorant was until you introduced it to me, so he definitely wouldn't know about brushing your teeth, therefore his breath smells of rotting flesh and whatever victims you guy have eaten for the past year

• I feel like he'd smell like super old perfume, like he found it off of a victim and he really liked it so he decided to use everyday and replaces deodorant with it

THOMAS HEWWIT

• I feel like Tommy would take showers like every 3 days so he's a clean boi but he does tend to sweat alot because of the Texas heat

• i feel like he'd smell like blood, like the strong odor you can smell usually after the blood is dry

• would smell like gas due to his chainsaw

VINNY

• let's be honest here, he smells musty, like sometimes due to always being locked away on the basement

• but I feel like if you ever gave him scented candles he'd definitely would smell like them for days

• would smell like burnt wax, like he's working with it 24/7 what do we expect

• rare occasions would smell like cigarettes due to bo smoking

• due to his smoking he'd definitely smell like cigarettes

• I know he drinks alot but I feel like he'd smell more like whiskey, I dunno why he just gives off that vibe

• would smell like old cars and gas with a hint of rain if that makes sense, I dunno how describe it tbh

I'm so sorry if these were short and sucked it's 3am and I'm tired as fuck but I felt bad because I wasn't writing for you guys and didn't want to leave you hanging lmao depression and writers block Is a pain in the ass so please let me know your ideas thank youuu

#slasher headcanons #slashers #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #rz michael myers #bo sinclair

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nonstoplover · 2 years

Text

more moments to remember ~ pierre gasly (pg10)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: pierre gasly x single mom!reader

summary: short stories of happy memories with pierre and his newfound little family | this is pt.2 to this fic, but it can be read as a standalone piece

words: 5.7K

warnings: basically dad!pierre, kid has a name (Austin), pierre with a kid (*-*), mainly only pierre and austin with reader often missing from the scenes sorry not sorry, not betaread

a/n: i became so caught up in the idea of pierre with a kid (my baby fever isn't helping me rn) that i couldn't stop thinking about situations in which i want to see pierre and austin interact, so i just had to write it. also, i got a rb where they said they need more of pierre and austin (same) and it gave me the final push to write it. so thank you kodzusficrec, this is for you <3

tbh i literally cried a lot writing this. yes, pierre himself has this effect on me. especially when he's with a kid.

reader, please don't be a ghost, all feedback is well appreaciated, rb or comment!

taglist: formulapierre

It all starts after a race when Pierre's very first thought is instinctively to call (y/n) and Austin, just wanting to hear their voices before anyone else's. It's only been a week since she agreed to give the two of them together a chance – it took quite a bit of convincing from Pierre's side, but he was always fully determined to achieve his goals, and this time it wasn't any different.

He knows why she hesitated so long, she's been scared that her being a mom already changed everything. It did change things, but only in a good way. Ever since meeting Austin, the little boy has been Pierre's ray of sunshine even on the darker days, even only the thought of him, something (y/n) was probably too scared to notice. Scared that it would only make things difficult, him being a race car driver and them just being... them.

In her mind, he deserves something else, not a single mom with an always over-excited kid. And on the other hand, Austin has already lost one father – though without knowing him in any way –, so the last thing she'd want is for him to experience loss again, in case things didn't quite work out with her and Pierre. Especially since Pierre was his role model in life, his favourite F1 driver. Who knows how bad he would take it if one day Pierre left?

Ever since Austin was born, (y/n) only went out with a couple of guys, and no one stayed long enough for her to introduce them to her son. This was completely new. Still, Pierre's determination and him having a solution and answer to every question or fear she voiced, it all eventually led to her finally agreeing to give it a try.

Now it's been a week, and he's already so absorbed in the small family that the first people he wants to talk to as soon as he gets out of his car is them two. It's a feeling in his chest and his mind that he wants to remember forever. If he could somehow immortalise it, he would.

That's when the thought pops in his head that he should keep a list of things, moments that he never wants to forget – a separate note in his phone's notes app dedicated to (y/n) and Austin.

"What if I fly out tomorrow and we can meet again?" Pierre suggests when he's finally able to FaceTime the young woman.

Her surprised eyes momentarily freeze on the screen due to bad connection, then her almost disbelieving chuckle enters his ears through his earbuds. "You'd want to do that? You have a race weekend next week as well, don't you have to be there soon?"

"I can manage to be with you for a little while," he shrugs with a soft smile on his face – something that is just always there when he looks at her, he can't help it. When he sees the doubt still being apparent in her expression, he's swift to add, "I really want to see you again, coeur."

It only takes this one sentence to melt her resistance – and honestly, she wants to see him just as much, he's proven to be the best company she's had in a very long time, with him life seems better, easier, and way more fun. She feels like a teenager with a crush, experiencing slowly falling in love for the first time, as if she's not a mom already, as if she went back in time to when it was simple just going on dates with nice guys.

It's just that she doesn't want to cause him trouble with having to fly out to her when he has a race so close ahead. But with that sentence and that smile she can't fight it anymore. She simply says okay with a wide grin.

—

The second thing Pierre eagerly types in his special note is when he meets Austin in person again, the first time after that particular race he holds so close to his heart, when he first had the chance to really have a conversation with (y/n) and her son.

She's been reluctant to let the two boys meet again sooner, not wanting to cause unnecessary hurt for her son – she had to be sure things work out with Pierre in the first place, with his hectic schedule and being away so much, she had to be sure that the initial connection they both felt with the other wasn't just some projection of her desires, something she only imagined.

Well, turns out things definitely work out with him, actually a lot better than she could've ever expected it. They have so many things in common, their personalities matching as if it was meant to be.

When Pierre enters the apartment, following her steps, he can feel his heartbeat going fast. It's ridiculous, he hasn't been this nervous even when he met (y/n) for the first time after that race. And he knows the little guy likes him. Why is he so anxious then?

It all disappears though when he stops in the doorway she led him to, the one that leads to the living room, and Austin looks up from his spot on the carpet where he's been playing with toy race cars. For one moment he's just looking without a reaction, but then he springs into action. The absolute joy that appears on his tiny face as his eyes fully take in the driver is enough to calm Pierre down in an instant.

"Pierre came back!" Austin screams, probably directed at his mom who's standing at the side of the room, talking with the babysitter who's just getting ready to leave. (y/n) glances to the side, right at the boy, smiling wide from seeing his happy, excited expression.

The kid jumps up from his spot, leaving the cars behind without a second thought, as if they didn't even exist and he hasn't been in the middle of a race just a couple seconds beforehand, and he rushes towards the man, throwing himself against Pierre's legs, grabbing onto them tight, like he's afraid that if he didn't hold them strong enough, the driver would disappear.

It's such a warm welcome, Pierre can feel his heart filling to the brim with happiness, nearly bursting from it, and suddenly he's not sure if he can ever leave the little boy again – if yes, then it's definitely only for the feeling of getting another welcome similar to this once more when he comes back again.

—

When he experiences a happiness this huge – almost unbearable – again, it's the time he realises he's started to come to (y/n)'s apartment as if it was his too. There's no nerves anymore as he gets closer to the building or the front door, no standing around on the corridor slightly afraid to knock, then waiting for the door to open whilst smoothing out the nearly invisible wrinkles on his shirt.

Now he just gets out of the car and walks inside, calling out her name as he does so to announce his arrival. It's almost like coming home.

And then Austin bursts out of the bedroom, both his small hands full with those toy cars, his favourite toys, telling Pierre to go follow him to the living room because they have a race to do, a rematch to last time's race. He's yet to notice that the man always lets him win, he seems to think Pierre's only good at driving real cars, and not the tiny toy ones.

The man doesn't mind the slightest, he might have a really competitive personality, but as long as he can watch the young kid enthusiastically push around the miniature Alpha Tauri race car Pierre got him – he honestly struggled to see Austin play with a Red Bull and a Mercedes, something that (y/n) found very entertaining – he can actually enjoy coming in second (and last).

That one car actually became the boy's most favourite, most treasured toy, as soon as he tore the wrapping paper off and his (y/e/c) eyes fell on it. "It's like I'm you! I will always win from now on whenever I play with my friends, because it's your car I'm with!" the kid exclaimed, so sure in himself, and out of nowhere Pierre noticed tears blurring his vision.

Anyway, since Austin keeps on winning again and again, whenever he plays with Pierre, his mom or even the babysitter, his conviction has yet to break still.

—

Then comes the very moment that almost makes every happy moment he's ever had in his entire life suddenly seem less thrilling.

Pierre has decided to bring them with him one weekend to the upcoming race – and only had to reason with her for a surprisingly short time. He knows how much Austin would enjoy being in the paddock, and he himself would be more than happy to have the two of them there.

He knows it was the absolute best decision he could've made, not just when he sees the clear, genuine delight on the kid's face as he tries to take in everything around him with wide eyes, but also when he leaves to change into his race suit and comes back to find Austin proudly showing his Alpha Tauri toy car to Yuki. His teammate is smiling contentedly, asking questions from the little boy, with (y/n) watching from the side.

But the best part comes when he takes them around some more, Austin sitting in the crook of his arm so he won't get lost in-between the dozens of people rushing around the paddock and also to make sure that he gets a better view at everything. It's crazy how well the boy fits there, on his arm, as if he was meant to be there – it makes Pierre feel more than delighted, and somehow also very proud.

He doesn't even need to hold the kid with two hands anymore, like he did that very first time he held Austin like this, many moons back, for that first picture taken of the two of them – one that has since been followed by many, many more. Pierre comfortably balances the boy on his arm, his free hand reaching out in search of (y/n)'s fingers so he could intertwine them with his own.

A couple people Pierre knows better around the paddock and who are not in a hurry, approach them on their way and strike a short conversation. Not many people knew up until now that Pierre had a girlfriend – and even less that he even had a kid now.

"And who are you, little boy?" one of them asks, smiling sweetly.

Pierre glances down at the boy's face to see if he'll answer or he has to do it for the kid. "My name's Austin," comes the reply with that adorable self-assured, high-pitched voice Pierre came to adore so much in the past weeks. "I came to watch my dad race."

And this is the sentence that makes Pierre nearly drop the kid. He can hear the small gasp that escapes (y/n) at her son's announcement, and his heartrate is so high he thinks even during the races he's never experienced something like this. Glancing up at the man they've been talking to he notes the surprise in his eyes just as much. It's safe to say none of the three adults here expected such a reply – but Pierre would and will never correct it, or add any further explanation.

It's genuinely one of the most delighted he's ever been. Austin called him his dad.

—

From then on they spend even more time together, Pierre flying out any time he can to be able to be with them, with his son, or arranging for them to come meet him if he really can't get away from his tasks.

And that's how the next addition comes to his special note. One early summer day (y/n) manages to convince the kid to go out to the nearby park instead of playing with his cars at home – only with Pierre's help though. Austin seems to pay attention to his dad more now, dad somewhat taking mom's place in the top position in his eyes, but (y/n) doesn't mind. Not even the slightest bit. Her son finally has a father.

So she helps the boy get dressed, tying his shoelaces carefully so they wouldn't come undone in the predictable running around he would no doubt do. She tells them to go ahead as she locks the door, grabbing the bag she's packed with some water to drink and snacks to have in case they get hungry while out.

She catches up to them on the street, approaching the two while watching gleefully as Austin jumps around, telling some story to Pierre. The driver glances back above his shoulder to check if she's coming and flashes a smile her way when their eyes connect for a couple short seconds before his attention turns back to the kid.

Her hand slips into his immediately – it's become an instinct by now for both of them, and she falls into rhythm with her boys. Pierre reaches out without tearing his eyes away from Austin, grabbing onto the strap of her bag to take it from her, wordlessly insisting that he'll bring it instead of her with the motion of his hand gently pushing away her protesting palm she's held out in front of her.

As soon as they arrive to the park, Austin's off to the playground, befriending the kids already there without a problem – a quality (y/n) has always envied, never being someone herself to make friends easily. But maybe it's simpler for children.

They sit down on a closeby bench, immersing in their own discussion without the kid being there to direct the flow of conversation with his own stories. They talk about the past races and the upcoming ones, her being a Formula One fan since her teenage years helping her knowing quite a lot about the sport and understanding most of the things Pierre shares with her about strategy and about the car itself. And whatever's past her current knowledge, he's always more than happy to explain everything, making sure he speaks understandably but without making her feel dumb for not knowing.

When a couple hours has passed and the time comes to go back home, Pierre calls out Austin's name, the two adults standing up and gathering their bags, (y/n) checking around the bench once more to make sure they don't leave anything there – there was one time a year or so back when she and Aust accidentally left one of his toy cars underneath a bench, and he wouldn't calm down until she rushed back the same way they went home to find it for him, and it's something she never wants to experience again.

As Austin arrives to his parents, his tiny hand reaches up and moves against Pierre's palm, fingers clasping around the man's hand so casually as if that's completely normal – but he's never done it before, and so the naturality of the movement makes it even more special for the driver.

(y/n) turns back towards the boys to find Pierre grinning so wide it reaches from one ear to the other, and all of a sudden she just wants to grab his face and kiss him until they're both out of breath. He's just so amazing. The best father to her son she could've ever asked for, even if he's not the man who actually helped create said boy.

Austin's small fingers press into his skin and Pierre holds the child's hand delicately but tight enough that the connection wouldn't accidentally end by a sudden movement made by either of them. The little boy then turns his head towards his mom, grabbing onto her hand too, and even though Pierre enjoys having her touch on his skin as much as possible, holding her hand whenever they're walking somewhere, right now he doesn't mind at all that he can't do just that.

They're walking home like a real family.

—

When (y/n)'s birthday is coming up and she plans a night out with her best friends, it's the first time Pierre babysits Austin. The first time it's only the two of them. (y/n) didn't want to leave him like that, with a tiring job like that to do, and he even had the option to join her, but eventually he told her that she deserves some time spent with her friends, and her friends only, and since he loves being with Austin so much, it would never feel like a job looking after him.

That's how early in the evening she gently presses a kiss on Austin's head as he's sitting on the couch, then walks to the door with Pierre by her side. She says a quick thank you, for what is probably the hundredth time that day, and he softly shuts her up by capturing her lips with his own.

"I love you, mon chéri, have fun," he mumbles against her lips and feels them curl into a smile before she pulls away, saying back the same three words and moving out the door into the night.

"Okay, kiddo, what should we do first?" Pierre asks as soon as he's back in the living room.

Austin simply points at the controller that belongs to his favourite car race game, and Pierre happily joins the boy on the couch to spend the following hour or so with the two of them racing each other, trying to go faster and faster to gain more points.

When they grow tired, eyes having been focused on the swiftly changing screen for so long, they eat dinner – some leftover from lunch –, then decide to bake a surprise cake for (y/n) for the next day. Aust has a very clear vision about what he wants to make, trying to explain the best he can to Pierre how the cake should be in the form of a Formula One car, and preferably the same colours as an Alpha Tauri one.

It's not easy collecting every ingredient from around the kitchen and pantry, the two boys have to check almost every cupboard and cabinet, Austin sitting on Pierre's arm most of the time to be at the needed height so he can get the things they want.

A recipe is open on Pierre's phone, the screen getting more and more dusty by flour and powdered sugar as they keep on touching it with dirty fingers, right until it gets a bit difficult to read the words of the next step and he has to carefully clean it with a clean spot on the fabric of his already pretty stained shirt.

When the batter is ready, they look at pictures of race car shaped cakes online to use as inspiration and help, but eventually decide that it's way above their cake baking skills so they decide to make a normal, rectangular cake instead, and to only draw a race car on top with the coloured frosting. In the end that becomes quite the challenge all the same, both of them trying their best to make their own drawings – one car each – recognisable, but not being very successful in that, they have to admit.

With the frosting left Austin has the idea to sign the cake (as if we're giving our autograph to a fan, papa!), and they scribble something resembling their names in-between the two terrible-looking cars. Aust has the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he's concentrating deeply to not mess up the letters, having only learnt how to write his name not long ago.

When they're finished and have put the cake in the fridge, they go back to the living room to watch a movie, and even though Austin chose it and has been utterly excited throughout the first ten minutes or so, he gets more and more quiet as time passes, and eventually he falls asleep, his head laid on Pierre's lap. The driver carefully reaches out to grab the folded blanket from the armrest of the couch and covers the boy with slow, gentle movements in order to not wake him up.

(y/n) comes home not much time later, and taking off her shoes she hears some distant noise coming from the living room so she moves that way, thinking she'll find her boyfriend in there. She was right, he's sitting right there on the couch, but as the credits roll on the screen with some soft music playing in the background, his head is leant back against the headrest, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he's fast asleep.

Noiselessly she pulls out her phone from her purse, snapping a photo of her two favourite boys in the world sleeping soundly on the couch, Pierre's hand resting on Austin's shoulder as he still lays on his lap, the little boy's hand wrapped around two of the driver's fingers. It's one of the most heartwarming sights she's ever seen, her boys sleeping so peaceful and contented, completely knocked out.

The picture immediately becomes her new lockscreen, one that would keep on making her smile every time she glances at it – and one that makes a cute blush appear on Pierre's cheeks and neck when he sees it the next morning, but not without a wide smile taking over his features all the same.

—

There soon comes the first time Pierre goes to pick Austin up from school by himself, first of many, and another addition to his favourite memories. As he gets out of the car, he can already hear the kid screaming the word dad – something he still hasn't gotten fully used to, so it still makes his heart skip a beat –, standing just outside the front door, next to his teacher and a couple of other children who are waiting for their parents.

Pierre jogs up the stairs leading to the door, immediately greeting the teacher. The woman smiles at him saying nice to meet you, then Pierre squats down to check if Austin is fully ready to leave, shoelaces tied and jacket properly zipped. He impulsively presses a kiss to the top of the kid's head as his hand grabs the small backpack hanging from Austin's shoulder.

"So you're the famous dad Austin always talks about," the teacher speaks up again, making Pierre look up from his crouching position before straightening himself, a bit of nerves creeping into his bones. "If only half of what he says is true, you're doing a fantastic job," she chuckles.

Pierre's heart feels like bursting. It's the first time he's ever been complimented in the role of a dad. Blood rushes to his cheeks as he murmurs a thank you, averting his eyes in his embarrassed happiness – still the woman can't help but notice how he somehow stands taller all of a sudden, his shoulders squared from hearing her praise.

After saying goodbye, Pierre holds his hand out to signal to his son to grab it and they make their way back to the car, Austin clearly super excited that his dad came to pick him up – he loves it when he can sit in the back with Pierre driving. He always pretends that they're in a Formula One car, racing – and in the end winning, of course. It doesn't matter to him that Pierre doesn't actually go even the tiniest bit above the speed limit. He's an F1 driver and that's all that is important.

Getting to the car Austin climbs into his seat and Pierre fastens the seatbelt carefully around him, making sure it doesn't fall in a place that would make it uncomfortable for the boy, his fingers now moving just as professionally as (y/n)'s did once back in the parking lot next to a race track, with Pierre watching on from her side, not having a clue about what the future held – only hope.

He then moves around the car to sit in the driver's seat, and as he's settling down, just about to start the car, something appears in the corner of his eye – Austin holding out a big piece of paper from his seat in the back towards him.

"What is this?" Pierre asks as he takes it from the boy.

"I made it!" the kid announces proudly. "We had to draw a happy memory we have with our family and I chose this."

Pierre's eyes move from the image of the boy in the rearview to the paper now in his hand and his breath hitches. Obviously it's not a perfect drawing, anyone could see it was made by a few-year-old kid, but it's still easily perceptible what it portrays.

He sees the figures of three people on the colourful drawing, two bigger and one small in the middle, all three holding hands. To their right, there's something that looks very much like his real-life race car, in the background probably a garage at the paddock, with Austin's crooked letters at the top saying Alfa Tauri. Pierre makes a mental note to teach the kid later how the team's name is spelled correctly, but for now he just savours the feeling overtaking him watching the drawn picture.

A happy memory with his family, and Austin chose this.

"Hey, Aust, can I keep this?" Pierre turns around in his seat to look at the boy, already thinking about how it would definitely go on his fridge, somewhere he could look at it all the time and remember this very moment.

"Sure," the boy nods with a serious look in his eyes. "But it has a price."

"Oh yeah?"

"You have to buy me ice cream on the way home and you can't tell mom."

Pierre has to bite the inside of his cheeks to repress the chuckle that's threatening to burst out, expecting nothing less from the kid. "You got it, petit."

He's definitely his mother's son.

—

As the end of the season is slowly coming to an end, Pierre decides to finally make the next move in his relationship with (y/n). One night as they're having dinner in a small restaurant, out on a date night with Austin spending the night with her parents, in the middle of a casual conversation, just as he's listening to her ramble on about the dessert they're sharing and without his eyes ever leaving her (y/e/c) coloured ones he reaches up with one hand, placing something on the table right in front of her.

(y/n) glances down mid-sentence, curious about what he's placed there, and she nearly drops the small fork she's been holding in the air with another piece of the dessert balancing on top, what she wanted to say immediately forgotten. Lightly coughing because she nearly choked on some crumbs, her eyes take in the shiny key with a dark blue ribbon delicately tied around it, with a simple name tag hanging from the end of it saying her name.

"Are you– what–" she mutters, seemingly unable to form a complete sentence.

"Would you move in with me?" Pierre asks as simply and naturally as if he's only asking whether she enjoys the dessert or not.

Her wide eyes are still trained on the key, still somewhat in shock by the sudden turn of events. They haven't even been together for a year and he'd want them to live together? He wants to live with Austin?

"I've been thinking about it for a long time, don't worry, ange, I'm sure I thought about everything," he reasons before she could voice her possible doubts and fears, reading the way her eyes move as an open book and knowing what's going on in her mind. "I truly want you and Austin to be around all the time, without any of us having to fly to somewhere else. It's enough time spent apart that we have to do because of my job, I don't want the rest of the time we could finally spend together having to be wasted away because we live apart."

She honestly feels as if all her vocabulary left her, no words in her mind anymore that she could use to somehow answer him. Her eyes get glossy with tears as a disbelieving grin appears on her lips. Pierre watches on with racing heart as the most beautiful sight unfolds in front of him.

(y/n) nods vigorously, trying to compensate the loss of words with the movements of her head, grabbing the key with slightly shaking fingers. Blinking away the teardrops she looks deep in his eyes, pressing the key to her chest, somewhere above her heart.

"I would love to," she speaks finally when words seem to come back. "And I know that Aust would love it more than anything too."

—

When their one year anniversary comes, they use the next race-free weekend and go for a little getaway trip on the northern French countryside, Austin now spending time with his other grandparents, Pierre's parents in Rouen – the little boy stealing their hearts about five minutes after arriving when Pierre first took his new family home to introduce them during the summer break of last year.

The couple spends the day after their arrival sightseeing in the nearby villages, walking hand in hand and enjoying the feeling of not having to rush anywhere for once, and then they cook pasta for dinner together. Even when they have the chance to eat at restaurants, they rarely do, somehow the act of cooking together is far greater joy for both of them most of the time.

Before sitting down at the dining table right next to the window, with the colours of the gorgeous spring sunset seeping through the lace curtain and pouring onto the table, Pierre pulls out a candle from his bag, placing it carefully on the table and lighting it as (y/n)'s giggles fill the air. "What a romantic soul you are," she remarks joyfully.

"Is it too much?" he glances up from his task grinning.

"Nope, never," she replies with a single shake of her head.

They peacefully eat dinner, a comfortable silence hanging over them for a couple minutes only broken by the jingle of the cutlery mildly hitting the plates with each bite they take of the delicious dish.

"Actually, I wanted to–"

"I think this is the perfect time–"

They start talking at the same time, both of them bursting into a soft fit of laughter when they realise how in sync they really are.

"You go first," Pierre smiles, motioning for her to say whatever she's wanted to just a minute earlier.

(y/n) clears her throat, placing her fork down on the side of her plate. "So, as I was saying, I think this is the perfect time for me to give you something." With that she leans to the side and reaches into her handbag that's been laying on the ground next to the dining table, his eyes following with slight confusion. Didn't they agree on no anniversary gifts?

Without another word spoken, she hands something small wrapped in brown paper to him above the table. Pierre eyes her for a moment, letting his fingers wrap around the object without him actually paying attention to the movement of them, but he can't read anything from her (y/e/c) orbs.

He slowly looks down and starts unwrapping it, right until the paper falls down – nearly landing in his remaining pasta – and he lets out a gasp. In-between his fingers there's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

"Is this–?" his eyes shot up to her face, now split in two by her absolutely gorgeous grin.

"Yes," she lets out a giggle. "We're gonna have a baby."

"A baby," Pierre repeats in slight disbelief, tears gathering in his eyes.

"You're going to be a father, for real this time."

This sentence breaks him from the trance he's been in and he lets out a cheery whoop, jumping up from his seat and rushing to her side, falling to his knees by her chair. His hands gently grab the sides of her face and pull her in for a heated kiss, the wet, salty stains his rolling teardrops made on his skin brushing against her cheek.

Ever since he became a stepfather to a toddler, he's been dreaming of having his own child with (y/n) – dreaming of how the said child would look like, with her elegant, perfectly shaped nose and his piercing icy blue eyes. And now his dream will actually come true.

Mid-kiss one of his hands leaves her cheek and comes to a rest on her belly, wanting the baby in there to feel a connection with their father no matter how impossibly tiny they still might be. When they break apart in need of oxygen, (y/n) giggles once more, eyes gazing down at the way he's softly pressing his palm into her stomach.

"Austin's gonna be a big brother," Pierre notes dreamily.

"Yes, he will," she replies joyously.

As the driver slowly stands back up again to return to his seat, she speaks up again. "What is it you wanted to say?" Pierre has to force his mind from going a hundred miles an hour from this beautiful piece of news to think back to a couple minutes before, having completely forgotten that he was about to say anything in the first place.

Then he suddenly feels the small box pressing into his thigh inside his pocket and everything comes back to him. "Oh, I actually planned on making this evening special and beautiful and memorable, but I guess you already succeeded in that, mon ange," he chuckles.

Nevertheless his fingers move inside his pocket and he pulls the box out, putting it on the table between them, in the meantime opening it so she can immediately catch a glance inside. Now it's her turn to gasp, her eyes landing on the simple yet dazzling ring nestling inside the little velvety box.

"I wanted to ask you a question," Pierre continues, even though half of his mind is still somewhere else – in the not so far future, his inner eyes picturing himself with a newborn baby in his arms, the young woman, his wife laying on the hospital bed, exhausted and with her hair messy but still looking perfect, smiling blissfully happy up at him. "Mon amour, will you marry me?"

.::the end::.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

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