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#it was supposed to be celebration!! and encouragement!!!
goldensunset · 7 months
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did you know? if you do your laundry you can get your clothes back
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karinasbaby · 4 months
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — SURPRISE 이희승
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"surprise, slip my panties to the side."
PAIRING. lee heeseung x fem!reader (+17)
WARNINGS. mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking, drunk hee (for a bit), cursing, bondage (ropes & handcuffs), hee is a bit angry n feral, his mood changes suddenly but it’s ok <3, bj + hj, oral (f & m), face sitting, lots of teasing, edging, overstimulation, fingering, pet names, praising !, multiple rounds (?), bath sex in a way, thigh riding, morning sex, pls tell me if i missed any !
WORD COUNT. 9.3k :0
SYNOPSIS. jaeyun pitched you one of his “genius” plans to celebrate heeseung’s birthday— but how will heeseung take it?
A, NOTE. happy new year my loves !! i would greatly appreciate it if we all ignored the fact that this was supposed to be published on hee’s birthday <3 it took me an unnecessarily long time to write, but i hope u enjoy ! + pls check a, note part 2 and the end <3 (this is also proofread at 4 am so 🙏🏼)
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red and blue lights scattered messily across your vision, the smell of intoxicating alcohol, tobacco and sweat infiltrating your senses leaving you slightly light headed, your fingertips grasped at the hem of your dress, situated around your thighs to pull the mini dress lower, eyes roaming desperately for the towering figure of your boyfriend,
your boyfriend, lee heeseung— the birthday boy who god knows where he is right now.
you took cautious footsteps once you began to surround the approaching mass of people, sweaty bodies dancing restlessly in each and every corner of the house whilst your gaze roamed, hands clammy with sweat from the lack of air, your lungs constricting as it got harder to breathe the longer you stayed among the crowded room,
“there you are!” a familiar voiced boomed behind you, a feeling of relief washing down once you recognised the loud voice over the deafening music, jaeyun approached you with a large smile gracing his face, brown strands untidily cascading down his features as his arm wrapped around your exposed shoulder, the other hand bringing his drink closer to his mouth,
“enjoying the party?” you questioned next to his ear, taking in the sight of the slightly tipsy man who was busy winking at a random girl across the room, “of course!” he quickly replied, catching your amused gaze with his twinkling one.
“i’m here to tell you about a surprise for heeseung,” he spoke, hand lowering from your shoulder to wrap around your waist as he led you away, “a surprise? i already have a gift for him though.” jake’s flushed face turned towards yours after he signalled the random girl to a different room, “i have a better idea.” he giggled
and whilst you were being walked out of the room, your eyes caught the sight of heeseung’s wet form out of the window, standing besides the pool as his other friends encouraged him to drink more while other figures jumped into the pool, the view of him being covered by nothing more than his dripping white button up shirt that carved all his chiseled muscles out along with a black tie hanging loosely around his neck made your head reel, thoughts rushed to your head when your gaze dropped lower to his flexing thighs beneath his black pants,
his clothing material all soaked due to his previous jump into the water, as a result of a stupid dare. you could hear his drunken laughter over the music as his face kept getting warmer, a soft blush adorning his sharp features due to the alcohol, his black locks sticking to his forehead contrasting his reddened skin,
“trust me, heeseung’s going to love it.” jake chuckled besides you, ultimately stealing your attention away as he opened the door to the guest room, the image of a pair of handcuffs along with a large rope was the least expected one in your mind, and once your confusing gaze landed on jaeyun’s smiling face, you began to doubt whatever his idea was,
should you trust jake?
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you shouldn’t have trusted jake.
as trusting jake lead you to this current predicament, wearing a purple coloured lingerie beneath your feathery robe, "his favourtie colour" jaeyun's voice rang in your ears, the pair of handcuffs situated in your hand while the rope was in the other as you stared at heeseung’s shirtless passed out form with his tie around his neck, in your shared bed,
the party had ended hours ago, leaving you with a drunk, sleeping heeseung that currently seemed to be in a deep dream, lips partially opened as quiet snores left his mouth, evidently exhausted from the events of tonight,
your footsteps light as you stepped deeper into the bedroom, the wood quietly creaking beneath you while your gaze was fixated on heeseung’s form between the satin sheets, chest heaving upwards softly to allow short pants of his breath to escape,
countless thoughts ran through your head as your eyes kept scanning his body in the dim lighting of the room, should you proceed? what if he wakes up in the middle of everything? what if he doesn’t enjoy it?
throughout the duration of your dilemma the only thought that circled your mind continuously was the possibility of heeseung enjoying this night, jaeyun— his best friend, would never set you up for failure would he? never.
and with the prominent thought of this night becoming a memorable one for heeseung, you decided to continue.
opting on inhaling in a deep breath, you inched closer towards the bed till you moved atop his body, legs carefully caging around his waist whilst your shaky hands wrapped around his wrists, thankfully heeseung had his arms behind his head, ultimately making the situation easier for you to mend,
with caution, you wrapped the iron material around his wrists, the soft click of the cuffs increasing the rapid beating pace of your heart, nervousness etched its way throughout your body as heeseung was always the one to guide you in any sort of intimate situation, but now here you were, taking that freedom away from him.
and as your hands grabbed the rope to wrap his cuffed hands against the headboard, the man beneath you slightly moved, your breath hitched as you were only one pull away from completing his knot yet you froze once his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes remained closed as you awaited his awake, breathing out a sigh of relief after taking notice of his continued slumber,
with the final knot in place, heeseung was successfully cuffed and tied up, landing him in a situation where he had absolutely no chances of touching you as he always does and loves to, your eyes remained on the rope decorating his veiny hands, the contrast between his soft, delicate skin and the harsh rope—
“baby?” heeseung raspily called, tone laced with sleep and exhaustion as his bleary eyes searched for yours, he could feel your figure atop his yet his gaze searched for yours in the dim lighting, heeseung attempted to move, confusion cascading his face once he realised the restriction around his hands,
“what’s all this?” he questioned, head looking upwards to the unexpected sight of the rope covered handcuffs surrounding his wrists, you stared at his face wide eyed, studying his every expression as your breathes quickened once his frown deepened,
“surprise?” you responded, heart thumping between your ribs, innumerable thoughts swirled in your mind dizzyingly, heeseung's second tug at the ropes rendering him futile made you become hyper aware of the situation that you had— of the power you had over him.
"surprise? baby.. what are you planning?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing down on you, gaze swiftly lowering to widen at the sight of his favourite colour wrapping around your body alluringly, his nervous gulp went unnoticed by you, yet you were able to feel his length twitching beneath all articles of clothing between both of you easily.
breathing in a sharp breath— "angel.. how about you untie me so we can both enjoy the night? hm?" he spoke out, desperately beginning his negotiation, and there was no way you were giving up your power.
to have lee heeseung tied up, helplessly beneath you was once in a lifetime occurrence, you might have adored all the nights of him taking full and complete control over you, sometimes deciding to be generous enough to allow you to have a small taste of what its like to take control by guiding you to please him,
"how does it feel?" you questioned ignoring his words, eyes avoiding his as it followed the path of your hand slowly brushing down from his shoulder towards his collarbone, the shaky rise of his chest beneath your fingertips heightened your senses as you felt a throbbing sensation from beneath you,
"angel.. what?" he puzzledly asked, attempting his best to control his breathes as your fingertips inched closer towards his nipple, attempting his best to distract himself from the warmth of your cunt seeping through the lingerie directly to his hardening dick, and yet again, all his attempts deemed inaffective.
"how does it feel to be under me?" you paid no mind to the sudden surge in confidence gushing through you, attention captured by the way heeseung's eyes immediately darkened, his mind was reeling from your teasing as he wasn't used to this at all, he was more accustomed to eat up the sight of your writhing, twitching body beneath him, not the sight of your hungry gaze staring down at him as he was tied up, he could see the numerous emotions spiraling in your vision.
a burning sensation expanded throughout his chest, his need and desire for you fueled by the remaining alcohol in his system, the absolute need to have you beneath him as he pleased you was almost blinding, and the constant throbbing around his wrists from the tight ropes was pushing his patience further,
"answer me hee, how does it feel? hm?" you copied his soft tone in persuading you once he remained silent, your hands gently caressing his smooth skin, heeseung began to shift beneath you, his body hot and bothered by your contiunous teasing and warmth surrounding him yet your lack of movement was driving him crazy, his breaths became shorter, eyelids became heavier as he stared at you,
he so desperately wanted to be angry with you, to somehow manage to stir the control to him— yet your twinkling, curious gaze made him almost play along with your silly game,
"infuriating." he seethed out from between gritted teeth, eyes closing entirely once he felt you press your hips against him, resulting in him tugging against the ropes feebly again, you cooed mockingly at his frown, going further to rile him up by bringing your hand to caress his cheek soothingly, and almost instantly he leaned towards your touch, heeseung's breath hitched as he felt you beginning to slowly roll your hips against his,
opening his eyes to the sight of you looking beneath you both after you quickly discarded your robe, taking notice of his abs flexing, his length's outline steadily becoming more prominent, "just what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours, angel?" he smiled in frustration at you, your needy gaze locked with his own before you shrugged tauntingly,
"i just want to make you feel good." you replied with honesty, slowly lowering yourself towards him, heeseung hissed as he felt your plump lips ghosting kisses against his burning hot skin, his breathes quickened the wetter your kisses got while you went lower, his own lips getting caught hostage between his teeth when he felt you sucking his skin needily,
"baby.. come on," he urged on, the hem of his pants felt like scorching iron rubbing against his skin, his resolve slipping further at the feeling of your hands caressing his abdomen, your tongue swiftly circling his belly button before finally reaching his pants once you were satisfied with his surprised gasp, he breathed out a sigh of relief as you quickly tugged the constricting fabric along with his boxers down,
he was unbelievably hard, heeseung’s head was thrown back at the feeling of you blowing air on him once his large length was freed from his boxers, teeth grinding against one another once your cold fingertips wrapped around his burning skin, “don’t tease me more, angel.” he rasped out, a clear warning in his words as he was close to losing his mind at this point, yet you only smiled at him.
“just enjoy what i’ll give you.” his nails scratched angrily at the ropes from your words, he could feel his frustration leading his body as he thrusted uncontrollably into your hands, in need for any kind of friction, he could taste his blinding climax on the tip of his tongue and yet at the same time it felt so far away, his body felt like it was on fire as for the first time— he couldn’t get what he wanted instantly.
heeseung was new to this situation, one where nothing was under his control and he was left with nothing but his desperate breathes for your mercy, a small portion of him was more accepting of the drastic change, yet that small voice was nothing in comparison to the warning alarms ringing in his head,
and he knew he was completely fucked the moment you decided to lick up a long stripe starting from his base then trailing upwards to circle his raging tip torturously, a shaky breath involuntarily escaped once you repeated the action once again, countless empty threats died in his throat at the feeling of your warm mouth engulfing him, hot tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock,
the salty taste of his continuous precum took over your senses, he was leaking a ridiculous amount just from simple teasing, using his precum as a lube substitute you began to jerk your hand up and down his length, the sudden change in pace resulting in his legs spasming around you, then a satisfied hum vibrating around his tip making him close his eyes shut,
his breathes got heavier the longer you moved, suckling on his tip sloppily with the incessant motion of your hand bringing him closer to his release, heeseung’s muffled groans got louder as he attempted his best to silence himself, not used to being the vocal one that much.
you looked up to the sight of his head thrown back, chest and face flushing a pretty pink along with a sheen, thin layer of sweat glistening along his rapidly rising chest, he looked breathtaking under the dim lighting, abs and legs flexing as he felt his abdomen tightening even more,
“d-don’t stop angel… i’m close,” he whimpered out, the sound of his voice breaking and stuttering out made your brain short circuit, a sound so sweet and addictive that you’ve been deprived of for months, you decided to tease him more,
the moment the tip of your tongue licked along his prominent vein beneath the head of his cock was enough to have his eyes roll back into his skull, plump lips agape to let out a quiet shocked gasp, you continued applying pressure, his thighs shaking next to you whilst his biceps flexed around his head, the rope slowly damaging his skin yet all his mind could focus on was your tongue and the unexpected quickened build up of his climax,
his head fell to the side, pleasure overtaking his body as the coil in his abdomen only tightened further, your hands lowered to fondle with his balls whilst your tongue remained teasing his vein, heeseung could swear he began to see stars the longer you continued, chest rising speedily to inhale deep breathes that felt nonexistent for him,
“right there baby.. so c-close i’m cu-“ yet he couldn’t finish his sentence, the intense build up of pure delight running in his veins abruptly ended, his eyes snapped open in shock when you just pulled away,
“baby what the fuck are you doing?” he spat out angrily, his head lifted swiftly, irritated gaze landing on the sight of your swollen lips and glistening eyes staring back at him, his breathes quickened in frustration as his cock twitched desperately at the view of you, “i can’t have you finish so quickly, where’s the fun in that?”
and with ease, your words affected him efficiently, his brown pools instantly darkening, pupils reducing in size the longer he felt his release slipping away from his body, “i’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you the moment i break these shits,” he tugged on the ropes again, heeseung has never felt so sexually frustrated before, his throbbing length was aching almost painfully when your hold slightly tightened around him,
“you talk too much,” was your only response, heeseung couldn’t bring himself to respond back in time before you lowered yourself yet again, he was suffering whiplash after whiplash from the ‘surprise’ and your frustrating teasing, his head fell back against the pillow once he felt your warm mouth engulfing his tip again,
“you’re going to r-regret this so much, pretty.” he choked out, face burning hot once he felt his impending release returning in an embarrassingly quick manner, you started with licking gently at his sensitive, leaking slit while your hands jerked off his cock below slowly, one hand moved to milk his length while the other stayed lower to cradle his balls,
the familiar stars returned to his vision when you only hummed around him at his words, his frustration mixed with the intense pleasure were feelings his body couldn’t keep up with, and he was under your control with his twitching body directly beneath your hands.
“please angel… don’t stop, i’m so close,” he begged you, voice scratchy and hoarse as he felt his lower half slightly go numb with the continuous build up, his creeping climax approaching in a way his mind couldn’t keep up with, one second he was holding back moans while the other he felt mere moments away from his orgasm,
his abdomen tightened, as he could yet again taste his release on the tip of his tongue, so close, so dizzyingly close he was, his mouth fell open at the feeling of his climax moments away from washing over him, hips jerking into your hold once you quickened only for all of it to come crashing down once you pulled back again,
“what the fuck-“ heeseung growled out, his body searing in anger and pain when all he could feel around his raging length was the cold air, not your wet mouth and warm hands, his mind was reeling with curses as he lifted his head up again, “did i ruin it?” you questioned as you smiled at him.
“did i ruin it, again?” and there you sat, dolled up in his favourite colour, lingerie barely covering any part of you while you looked at him, eyes twinkling with mischief as you smirked at him, and his painfully red length right infront of you, he didn’t respond,
“come on hee, is this not fun for you?” you spoke, hands reaching upwards to caress his twitching thighs, finger tips going as high as his hips, torturously close to his length before going down to his knee, heeseung didn’t respond, his eyes remained close whilst he breathed heavily from his nose,
you failed to notice the way his veins were bulging at this point all around his arms, specifically his hands, you failed to notice his fingers and wrists turning red around the cuffs as he tugged, busy pushing your teasing further with running your index finger from the base of his length to his tip,
all you could feel was authority and power, your first taste as you wished to prolong the view of a whimpering heeseung under you, “you could tell me-“ you completely failed to notice the small crack! around the headboard that the rope was fastened to,
you were too late, your heart dropped to your stomach at the sudden loud sound of wood breaking, followed by clank of metal, the large scattered piece of wood landed on the floor followed by the ripped ropes and the handcuffs, you sat frozen in your place in shock and attempting to process the fact that— heeseung just broke completely free?
he sat there, dark strands falling all over his eyes that were staring at you half lidded, you could see the pent up frustration and anger in them, most importantly the relief now that he was free, the feral glint intensified when he gently moved his hands around his wrists, his hand caressing the slightly damaged skin all while maintaining eye contact with your shocked face,
you really shouldn’t have trusted jake.
because jake never brought up the high possibility of the result of his plan to be a feral heeseung staring at you in a predatory gaze with a broken headboard behind him, “you had your fun didn’t you, baby?” he smiled at you, chest remaining to pant heavy breaths,
you only nodded your head, still stuck on attempts to process the fact that jake’s plan entirely backfired, what now?
“now it’s my time to have fun, it’s only fair that way isn’t it?” he finished your thought for you, he cooed at the sight of your confused gaze, yet you werent completely sure. judging by his sudden attitude change, there was no way he was going to be this nice with you, not after everything you did?
“come here” he pushed himself upwards on the bed before he patted on his lap, his length still standing proud and hard, yet the expectant look in heeseung’s eyes made you obey him completely,
you hastily crawled towards him, his needy hands instantly caressing and fondling every inch of skin he could reach, “look at you.. all dolled up for me, you look stunning, angel.” he trailed kisses down your shoulder once your back pressed against his chest, his length throbbed by your lower back whilst his hands gripped around the frail fabric around your body, his hands were rough,
god if you only knew what you were in for.
“just for you, hee.” you whispered to him, turning your head to face his lovesick eyes, the sudden changes in his gaze made your head spin as the heeseung that was glowering at you a mere minute ago, was currently drowning in your eyes with nothing but pure adoration and need for you,
“yeah? all for me, right?” he breathed out against your lips, large hands now finding comfort on your waist, stroking your soft skin gently as he nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you felt his lips curving upwards into a smile when you nodded in confirmation to his words,
“open your legs for me, darling.” his hands lowered to grip your thighs apart, fingertips brushing soothingly against your supple skin before they inched towards your center, your soiled panties coming in contact with his fingertips made him chuckle, “already this excited, baby?” he questioned, his smile widening when you turned your blushing face away from him,
his fingers quickly pushed the soaked fabric away, immediately moving towards your sopping hole, your wetness gushed around his finger once he teased the tip of his finger in, his other arm came up to wrap around your waist once your breathes began to get heavier, face flushed whilst he carefully pressed you more against him as he leaned back against the remaining part of the headboard,
“look at you taking me in so well, angel.” he praised, eyes locked and fascinated on the way his fingers disappeared between your swollen folds only to come out glistening, you looked below you, the sight of your dripping cunt covered by his long fingers never failed to make your heart skip a beat, only increasing the warmth spreading around your body once he dipped back in,
his rough skin caressed along your gummy walls, easily reaching your weakest and sweetest spots to please you in the best ways possible, his priorities seemed to remain unchanged even in his state of pure rage, he still had to make you cum at least once on his fingers or tongue before proceeding with anything else,
it was when he swiftly added his other ring finger to please you along with his middle one, then proceeding to use his other hand to rub slow circles on your puffy clit, steadily dragging your climax closer, you began to see stars,
colourful indecipherable shapes clouded your vision as heeseung fingered your first release out of you with ease, your glazed eyes rolled to the back of your head when he continued, aiding you in riding out your climax with his movements between your twitching legs whilst he whispered unintelligible praises to your ear, ending each word with a gentle kiss that echoed in your mind,
he was so gentle with you as you moaned quietly for him, your noises heard as melodies for him and only him, he studied your every expression while you were coming undone under his touch, though he’s seen you in this state countless times your short gasps, furrowed eyes and closed eyelids that were complimented by your flushed cheeks never failed to leave him mesmerised,
your hand quickly reached out to slow his movements, heeseung was close to beginning overstimulating you, his fingers resumed to thrust into your gushing cunt, knocking your breath out, yet before you could ask him to stop he beat you to it, “you took all this away from me tonight,” he whispered, tone undergoing an astonishing change as he spoke in anger,
the pleasure and sensitivity was beginning to numb your mind once you felt another impending orgasm building up, your abdomen twisting in tension at your imminent release, “hee please-“ you whimpered out before he cut you off, “take all of it, didn’t you want to make me feel good?” he asked, breathes getting harsher against your ear while your heart raced, your legs ached once heeseung moved his own beneath them to keep yours open,
“make me feel good, angel. cum for me,” he ordered, his hands increasing in pace as he quickly added a third finger making your eyes almost cross, your wetness by now was gliding down his hand and inevitably ruining the sheets beneath you, the force of his fingers pushed back against your convulsing hips, whilst he busied himself with trailing bites down your neck,
“i’m c-close, hee” you warned, voice cracking with each syllable as your oncoming climax felt more intense, the coil in your stomach twisting and turning once your release was moments away from overtaking your body, “come on, angel. i’ve got you,” his words were the last ones you registered before your ears began to ring as you squirted all over his hands, body trembling in his hold while heeseung continued to fuck you with his fingers, riding out the entirety of your orgasm whilst he basked in your moans and whimpers of his name,
“did so well for me angel,” he breathed out, his fingers pulled out from your dripping folds, reaching upwards to teasingly press on your puffy clit, eliciting a needy whimper from you, “doesn’t feel that nice when you tease, does it?” he asked with his voice heavy, eyes glued on your face twisted in pleasure and slight overstimulation, “no, i’m sorry, it doesn’t feel nice.” you quickly responded, wishing in your head for this to be over as the exhaustion from your mind blowing releases was slowly shutting down your brain,
yet heeseung noticed the prolonged period of your closed eyes, there was no way you thought that the night could possibly end any time soon, right? absolutely not. he hasn’t even started yet,
with a particularly unexpected slap to your dripping cunt your eyes shot wide open, a shocked gasp escaped your throat before all the noises in the room were replaced with your mewls that rung out once he began to toy with your overstimulated clit, “wanna go to sleep, baby?” he questioned while his fingers teased around your entrance again,
your body shivered beneath his arms as he pushed the tip of his two fingers in, “can we sleep, please?” you cried out, a thin veil beginning to form around your eyes once all the nerves in your body sparked, pleasure shooting all throughout your veins when heeseung pushed his fingers knuckles deep again, “our night hasn’t even started yet, pretty.” he replied with a chuckle,
your moans broke apart further the more his fingers began to fuck out orgasm after orgasm from you whilst he savoured every pretty noise you made, each sound making him fall deeper into the haze of the lust that was intoxicating the room, the longer you squirmed in his hold, the longer you made the prettiest sounds, the worse he ached beneath you, he relished in all the unintentional movements to his throbbing length behind you, swallowing back every moan of his in every few seconds that you moved just right,
“you can give me another one, can’t you?” his hot breath landed against your ear, by now both of your bodies felt sticky and hot, drenched in sweat atop the steadily soaking sheets, your breath mixed with his whilst his fingers never left your drenched pussy, heeseung’s mind was reeling with pain and pleasure at this point, his body had probably gotten more sensitive than yours yet he knew it was all going to be worth it in the end,
you shook your head in denial, however your body was contradicting all your thoughts once you gushed around his fingers again, heeseung smiled in satisfaction at your spent state, your sweaty chest rising up rapidly in despair for air, he had to fight the urge to bury his face between your legs once his fingers pulled away to reveal multiple, clear spider web like strings that connected his fingers to your cunt, their rightful place.
heeseung was absolutely hypnotised by your weak body above him, twitching legs behind his for when he attempted his best to keep yours open, captivated by the way your hands gripped around his for support as you tried to regulate your breathing,
he gently moved your body towards the bed, laying you down carefully whilst you opened your unfocused, watery eyes to gaze at his love and concern filled ones, “you alright, baby?” he whispered against your lips, lowering body as close to possible to yours, curious eyes searching your tired ones when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to lower him for a gentle peck, you nodded your head in reassurance to him, oh how you wish you didn’t.
as the moment that you did, his eyes flashed with the same anger they had minutes ago, “you still have energy, i know you do.” he replied, assuring himself more than you before he flipped your body over in the blink of an eye, the last expression on his face that you saw was of him smiling at you,
his hands brushed against your sides from the bottom to the top, like a predator checking their prey. his hold tightening the more he inched lower before he reached your hips, “so perfect for me,” he whispered his praise more to himself while his eyes took in every inch of your exhausted body,
you whimpered in his hold in surprise when he spread your cheeks apart, revealing your dripping gaping hole to his eyes, the sight alone made an incredibly painful throb to resonate from between his aching legs,
he wasted no time in propping himself on his knees, hips angled towards yours with his raging red tip positioned at your entrance, without a warning he pushed in,
the satisfying burn and tightening made you moan in unison, heeseung by now was completely acting on his own desires, body overtaken in pleasure and absolute need to have himself buried to the deepest point in you, your figure pressed against his while he fucked you till the sunrise, till both of your bodies were so sensitive and unable to handle a single touch,
his thrusts were merciless as he pounded into you, pushing your body further against the bed before pulling you back by your hips, you moaned into the pillow as heeseung took complete control of the situation, ridiculous how you thought tonight he would be under your control.
and as the thought was formed in your head, he pushed harsher against you before he rasped out, “you tried to…” cut off by his harsh breaths, his hips suddenly slowed down to become more powerful, “tried. to. control. me?” he asked through gritted teeth in an incredulous manner, accentuating and bringing more strength to every word by following it with a harsh thrust, his tip pressing against your cervix with each word making your eyes roll back whilst your jaw went slack,
his cock brushed against all your sweet spots, length perfectly stretching your walls with the tiniest tinge of burn due his large size, you could feel each and every vein bulging along your guts as he pounded into you,
“tried to guide me?” he followed with a laugh, and there he was. the heeseung you were expecting to appear since the moment you tied him up, the wild and vicious side of him that you’ve rarely gotten to see as he much preferred showing you his gentler side, however those were in situations that were under his control.
humiliation took over you at his words in the best form possible, his words of mock only resulted in you tightening around him making him groan, he leaned forward, hovering his chest above your back as he completely caged you beneath him, before he brought himself closer to your ear, “you looked so cute trying to tell me what to do, baby” he whispered, hips pressing flush against your ass with every syllable,
your throat had gone hoarse by now, as all you could hear were your mewls followed by heeseung’s words, the tears that aligned by your waterline had slid down a long time ago, staining your face in the prettiest way possible, heeseung’s favourite way.
“looked so cute acting all tough like you don’t need me to help you with anything, hm?” he continued, chuckling into your ear as more tears aligned by your jaw before dropping onto the pillow,
“looked so cute trying to suck me off like you don’t need me to push your head down my dick everytime,” his arm came upwards, you had buried your head in your pillow soaked tears as his cock continued moulding you into his size while he spoke to you, unbeknownst to you he expertly pulled off the tie hanging loosely by his neck,
and in a split second, heeseung had wrapped the narrow fabric around your neck, you gasped as heeseung lifted your head upwards, the tie applied perfect pressure to your jugular veins instantly resulting in you becoming lightheaded whilst heeseung’s animalistic eyes bored into yours,
“what made you think that’ll work?” he smiled at you, revealing his pearly whites as if he wasn’t pounding into you, whines escaped your mouth before you could process any of them, heeseung stared at your every expression with admiration and conceitedness,
“have i not made you take control enough when you wanted to?” he pressed on, smile widening as he had an unrecognisable expression on his face, you couldn’t tell if it was his reddened dark eyes, or his flushed face with his black locks that stuck on his forehead contrasting the light blush, but you could barely recognise him, the unfamiliar expression on his face sent pulses of warmth throughout your body,
“you could have asked me if you were that interested, instead of putting those pathetic shits around my wrists.” he finished off, tilting his head to the side once you closed your eyes, his thursts never faltered as he brought you closer to your release, abdomen twisting and churning in preparation for your oncoming climax, you felt your ears ringing again when heeseung slightly pulled on the fabric around your neck,
“eyes on me, pretty.” he groaned, his own voice laced with exhaustion and need, the desire to release his climax from hours ago now blinding his senses, you opened your unfocused eyes to land upon his, and while his hips were grinding against yours, every inch of his cock caressing every inch of your walls that swallowed him up entirely, he spoke out,
“open your mouth, baby.” his grip shakily tightening further around the tie, you breaths getting heavier and more difficult as you opened your mouth, heeseung spat onto your lolled out tongue, eyeing the way the string of saliva landed on your tongue before he pulled the tie more, “swallow.” and you did whilst he studied your every move,
once you showed him your clean tongue to satisfy him, he began to lower himself towards your neck, your head ultimately fell against the pillow again as heeseung began to trail soft bites along your shoulder while his hips moved against yours, both of you ridiculously sensitive from the prolonged edging and overstimulation, holding back desperately to lengthen the period of him inside of you, you moaned his name in need as his tip kept kissing your cervix,
“taking me in so well, milking my cock so good angel.” he praised, the pleasure finally overtaking his body as your walls only sucked him in further while more slick poured around your legs and onto the sheets, your moans mixed with his needy ones, sweaty bodies rubbing against one another messily as both of you chased your highs in desperation,
“s-seung, i’m so close.” you stuttered out, eyes closing when heeseung softly tugged at the tie, his own eyes shut once he felt his climax mere seconds away from washing down on him, the dizzying feeling of euphoria already running through his veins and intensifying with the build up, he could see stars clouding his vision similar to the ones clouding yours, “i’ve got you baby, cum for me.” he sweetly whispered,
and he followed his words with one, two and three delicious thrusts right against your cervix that had you coming undone for him, release washing over you mind numbingly, body weak as your legs shook beneath heeseung’s while his hand caressed your hips in attempts of comforting you, lips never stopping from kissing sweet words into your ear as you shook beneath him, the torturous tightening of your walls easily pushed heeseung over the edge as a few moments later you could feel his warm ropes of cum filling you up completely,
you struggled to return to your senses, body overtaken with exhaustion while heeseung kept peppering open mouthed kisses along your shoulder, his arms moved to wrap around your waist, gently fondling with your breasts as he was still cumming, he filled you up so well,
quiet and loving praises fell against your ear once heeseung was finished, still buried deep inside of you with his tie around your neck, your breathes were nearly shaky as he pressed his body closer to yours, “did amazing for me, baby.”
“how about i run both of us a bath then we can go to sleep?” he once again kissed your shoulder, smiling against your skin once you nodded,
you nodded in hopes of returning to clean satin sheets to drift off to slumber in the arms of your only love.
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the smell of his favourite lavender bath bomb overwhelmed your nose when heeseung carried you into the warm bathroom after discarding you of your lingerie, gently lowering you into the warmth of the water before quickly taking his place behind you, your back laid against his chest, his hands ran up and down your arms in comfort, heeseung’s chest warmed as he noticed goosebumps aligning all over your skin at his touch the longer you leaned into him, his fingertips ghosted over your skin in a pleasant way.
your head was placed on his shoulder as your face was turned towards his neck, eyes closed in exhaustion from the restless night, heeseung cooed when he noticed all the narrow tear streaks on your cheeks, his hands massaged all your aching muscles whilst his lips kissed away your dried tears,
“you okay, pretty?” he softly called out, voice quiet and gentle next to your ear, his soft side returning quickly, your gentle and caring heeseung gazed at you with concern and love shimmering in his eyes that filled with relief once you nodded, “i’m sorry if i was a bit rough, angel.” he continued, lips now moving along your neck with each word while his hands lowered to your thighs,
“it’s okay, i liked it.” you replied honestly once your eyes opened to look into his own expectant ones, voice quiet and hoarse as your throat felt sore, “yeah i bet you did, you looked pretty pleased you know.” he smiled before attempting to mimick your expressions that resulted in a pinch to his hand from you,
“though i’m… not that satisfied yet.” heeseung voiced out quietly, his smile widened when your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not that satisfied?
“what do you mean?” you questioned in bewilderment, you could still feel how sore all your muscles were there was no way he still had the energy for another round,
“i mean… it is my birthday isn’t it?” he began, you nodded along his words which was his cue to continue, his eyes trailed all along your shoulders and neck that were littered with his bites, “and you do want to make me happy on my birthday, right?” of course he was going to use his birthday card to get what he wants, you should have seen it coming from heeseung. “and i can get whatever i want on my birthday.”
“yes you can— heeseung, what do you want?” you asked, by now you had half your body turned to face him as you were genuinely curious to what he wanted, especially now when heeseung had a soft blush dusting his gorgeous features,
“i want you to ride my thigh, pretty.” he spoke out almost shyly, your heeseung who always surrounded you with his teasing and flirty nature, now was looking at you with twinkling eyes and blushed cheeks as he asked you to ride his thigh.
he cleared his throat before his natural, intimidating expression returned, “you don’t have to, if you’re too tired.” he added, but how could you deny such a request when he was staring at you with his plump lips swollen and red, his lids heavy on his eyes that were begging you to comply to his request, his hands that were ghosting around your waist lovingly only pushed you further,
and instead of answering him, you quickly moved your sore body to face him making the water ripple around you, your leg lifting over his to position yourself where he requested you too, heeseung instantly began to guide you, flexing his muscles beneath you once your overstimulated, puffy clit came in contact with his skin, he relished in your quiet whimper as he rocked your hips against his thigh,
your hands gripped onto his shoulders for support, nails digging sharply into his skin as you felt pleasure shooting from every nerve in your body, heeseung settled his head into the crook of your neck, lips returning to their rightful place of kissing your skin and every inch of it they could reach while his hands never stopped from aiding you in riding him,
your soft moans landed directly on his ear easily sending him into a trance as he felt overstimulated by feeling you everywhere around him, all over him and this was undoubtedly his favourite place to be, you could feel your release steadily building up as heeseung kept altering between relaxing and tensing his thigh, each movement sending jolts of pleasure throughout your whole body,
you could by now feel his length standing proud and poking at your other leg that was placed between his, his own breaths getting heavier against your neck while his nails dug into your hips, “i’m so close, hee.” you mewled out next to his ear, eyes closing once you felt the coil in your abdomen mere seconds from snapping, the water splashed around the tub, some droplets landing against the floor while you continued,
he nodded along to your words, “i know, baby.” he whispered against your skin, your movements quickened the more you felt your release approaching, your climax right around the corner while heeseung’s lips never left your skin, praises falling into your ear as his body practically moulded with yours, he held you closer once he felt your legs twitching besides his, “i’m cumming, hee— oh my god!” you cried out as your release washed over you headily, your wetness spurting all over his skin once intense waves of pleasure filled your body,
whispers of i got yous were the only thing keeping you grounded when you saw dots littering all across your vision, body spasming in pleasure as heeseung helped you in riding out your orgasm with his praises remaining continuous, if you thought you weren’t spent then, you totally are now.
“did so fucking well for me, baby.” he spoke quietly to you as you nuzzled further into his chest, “but you didn’t finish—“ you started off, hand lowering to his abdomen to help him before he gripped your hand, bringing it upwards to place a soft kiss to your knuckles, he held your it close to his lips as he cut you off, “no baby, you already did so well for me, this is something i’ll take care, okay?” he replied tenderly, pressing a soft kiss into your cheek after you nodded to his words,
“now let’s get you out and go to sleep, how does that sound, love?” he asked, smiling adoringly at your tired state, “amazing.”
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soft groans reached your ears as the sunlight steadily peeked through into your shared bedroom, the arms that wrapped around you as you fell asleep a few hours prior suddenly had a tighter grip on you, heeseung’s hands moved on your body, caressing and fondling every inch of skin beneath his fingers while his hot breaths landed on your shoulder as your back was turned towards him,
“hee?” you called, voice laced with sleep while your eyes remained closed, heeseung’s movements paused for a second, you could tell he was trying to regulate his breathing behind you before his hands resumed, “i need you angel, i want to please you so bad.” his needy and whiny voice shocked you, knocking away any remaining thought of sleeping out of your head the moment you heard him, inevitably causing a familiar wetness to pool in your panties, did he see a dream or something?
“seung what-“ “please, just let me eat you out.” he cut you off, and if you weren’t shocked before you for sure were now, he quickly turned you around to face him to see just how desperate he was at this sudden moment, “i couldn’t stop thinking about it yesterday, you were too tired but now that you slept i have to do this,” he rambled out, his body felt ten times hotter than yours as his arms pulled you towards his chest, “sit on my face.”
and you really didn’t have to be told twice,
so here you were now, gripping on the headboard— well what remained of the headboard with your legs placed around heeseung’s shoulders, back arching as he fucked his tongue in and out of your sopping hole,
your body shook with intense pleasure, still weak and aching from a few hours earlier yet still so responsive to every move made by heeseung, the same arms that broke free of the iron cuffs and ripped the ropes from yesterday now had a vice grip on your thighs and hips to keep you in your place, guaranteeing that you have no choice but to take what he’s been dying to give you since the moment your tongue ran along his dick yesterday,
quiet moans left your mouth when heeseung began to switch between fucking his tongue into your cunt only to suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves a second later, and he made sure that when he thrusted his tongue in your gummy walls, his nose pressed against your clit perfectly, his hips were yearningly thrusting into the blanket in hopes of slightest bit of friction, yet his main focus still remained on pleasuring you.
your groans and whimpers increased in volume as you felt the tightening of the coil in your abdomen increase, the pleasure already running through your veins intensely from the mere build up, heeseung mirrored every noise you were making on your cunt, each hum sending a dizzying vibration that pushed you further to the edge,
“hee, baby— i’m so close.” you moaned out, heeseung could already tell you were moments away from your climax from the way you were gushing on his mouth and he was glad to lick every drop, the pace of his movements surged in speed at your words, “cum for me, angel.” he hummed against your clit and that was enough to have the familiar stars dazzle your sight,
your legs shook uncontrollably around his head whilst heeseung licked and sucked everywhere, he continued eating you out sloppily as your wetness decorated all over the lower half of his face and he couldn’t be happier.
heeseung was humming along to your moans of pleasure, feeling just as high on ecstasy as you were, jaw slack while he licked up all what you had to offer before opting to just place soft kisses,
your body was holding on for dear life— the only form of stability was the headboard that you could no longer depend on as your grip got weaker the longer heeseung kept kissing you in a mind numbing manner, your body melted in his hold while your brain felt like it turned into mush, the grip he had on your legs tightening when your convulsing legs attempted to move away once he slowly began to overstimulate you,
your whimpers turned shaky when he pressed one long kiss before he finally allowed you to pull away, his hands instantly moved to hold your body close to his, proudly displaying his smiling face that was glistening with your wetness to you,
“heeseung you’re rock hard,” you stated as your eyes unintentionally lowered to the obvious tent in the middle of the blanket, “baby, the way you moaned my name was so hot. i would literally cum if you touch me once right now.” he replied, nuzzling his face closer to you while being mindful of keeping you clean,
“then let me help you,” and before heeseung could protest again, your hand briskly went under the blanket, dipping below his boxers to finally give attention to his throbbing cock,
in an instant, a low moan was drawn out from his chest whilst his eyes immediately closed in pleasure, your fingers ran along his length, his leaking precum aiding in the smooth movement of your hand, jerking your wrist to move up and down before pausing to press your thumb atop his gushing slit,
heeseung hissed in sensitivity, the hold he had on your waist tightening when he inched his mouth closer to your ear, “don’t tease me if you don’t want me to repeat yesterday.” he warned quietly, and you had no intentions to do so whatsoever,
“i really just want to please you,” you replied honestly making heeseung smile, “you’re already doing so well.” he moaned out once your hand picked up the pace, his red tip was covered with his precum as his cock throbbed in your hand, you quickly went closer towards his legs once his thighs began to twitch, leaving heeseung to throw his head back on the pillow while his hands gripped the sheets beneath him,
“so close.. i’m so close,” he babbled out, eyes shut in pleasure with his hips jerking forward uncontrollably, you studied his every twitch and shake as you continued the movement of your hands, studied the flexing of his abs as the coil in his stomach tightened unbearably, studied the way his jaw went slack while moans reverberated from his chest, studied the way his veins were popping from the tight grip he had on the sheets,
you could tell he was moments away from his climax, and with the sudden thought of heightening his pleasure you quickly acted upon it— the motion of your hands continued with heeseung’s eyes shut and head thrown back and the moment you lowered your head so lick at his tip had him shaking beneath you,
you swiftly began to suck on his pulsing tip, tongue licking along his slit as you hollowed your cheeks before pushing your head lower to his length, the sudden change made heeseung’s head bolt upwards, wide eyes that lined with a thin veil of tears gazed at you, his breaths getting shakier the longer you kept moving your head up and down his cock,
“fuck— right there baby, just like that. just like that, angel,” he rambled on, head falling back against the pillow as he could feel sweat rolling down his temples, the pleasure in his body flared when you once again began to tease that one pronounced vein that had his eyes rolling back to his skull
“baby— oh my god” he moaned loudly, not having the chance to warn you before his climax flushed over his body, hot spurts of his cum ran down your throat while you continued to suckle on his tip, pressing your tongue against the underside of his cock as your hand continued to jerk off his length, heeseung felt light headed, absolutely delirious when he started to feel himself being pushed into overstimulation, his deep moans echoed through the walls of your room as you kept pleasuring him,
he could feel the continuous sensation of ecstasy and euphoria running through his veins and numbing his head, sparks of pleasure shooting along his spine once you forced yourself lower and deepthroated him, and god he was cumming so fucking much.
you were struggling to keep up with him, tears aligning in your waterline while some escaped from the intense burning in your throat as you struggled to accommodate his length so deep in you, yet you remained with your nose pressed against his pelvis while his body shook, you finally gave him what he’s been waiting for since yesterday and god heeseung has never felt this good.
once his body calmed down to slight twitches you pulled away, the sight of your swollen and glistening lips covered in his cum made heeseung’s sensitive cock twitch, his eyes remained glued on you as you lolled your clean tongue out to show him, and he had to fight the urge to pound into you like yesterday.
he smiled at you in exhaustion before easily pulling your body upwards, he kissed along your face and jaw, relishing in all of your giggles as he held you close to him, tight in between his arms, right where you belong.
“satisfied now?” you questioned out as you nuzzled closer into his chest, “so satisfied i could marry you tomorrow.”
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“he WHAT?!” jake’s voice pierced throughout your room, it was currently the evening, the day after heeseung’s birthday where his closest friends came to visit your apartment, and while heeseung was busy gaming with sunghoon in the living room, jaeyun pulled you into your bedroom to question you about how his “genius” plan went.
“he broke the handcuffs, jake.” you sighed in exasperation, you’ve already explained the story three times yet jake’s mind refused to process the fact that his plan completely backfired,
his widened eyes stared at yours in shock and bewilderment, having difficulty understanding just how heeseung broke free— “what about the ropes? how did they not-“ “he ripped them in a second, jake.” you cut him off before he started another endless rant,
now jake knew that heeseung and sunghoon (along with jongseong sometimes) went to the gym, building up a consistent routine that took place mainly in the mornings, and yes he was aware that the routine was established a few months ago— yet he was sure that heeseung would stand no chance against iron handcuffs, and to ease his doubts he added the ropes,
“you underestimated him terribly, jae.” you spoke out, exhaustion evident in your tone as you hadn’t been able to have the best sleep of the night, your mind attempting to process all the events that took place yesterday yet the one that disturbed you the most was how unaffected heeseung was now, as he was helping jongseong in the kitchen a few minutes ago before agreeing on playing a few rounds with sunghoon,
“well.. i’ll have to invest in better handcuffs next time, how are you by the way?” he replied, curious eyes studying your movements, “hm?” you questioned in confusion, uncertain of what he was implying, “are you like… sore or anything?” he replied, his gaze now avoidant as he used his hands to aid him in expressing himself, oh.
“what do you think?” you looked at him, eyes very clearly indicating that you’ve reached your limit, “well.. he does have a pretty bad temper, i hope it wasn’t anything too harsh.” he smiled innocently, nodding his head along to his own words to convince himself
“who has bad temper?” oh gosh, speak of the devil.
heeseung stood at the doorway of the room, his gaze switching between your figure on the bed and jake’s standing one, “clearly you.. what even made you break the headboard last night?” jake asked cluelessly attempting his best to switch the topic of conversation,
“why are you interested about last night?” heeseung questioned, eyebrows knitting together before his gaze found the bag next to jake’s leg, it was jake’s bag, and it had the broken handcuffs and ropes from yesterday, and suddenly a light bulb went off atop heeseung’s head as his eyes widened
“so it was you?!” heeseung practically yelled at jake, an accusatory finger pointing at him when all the dots connected, “me?!” jaeyun pushed his innocent act further, mirroring heeseung’s shocked expression and pointing in confusion at himself while you just stared in anticipation at the two grown men,
“it was your idea, sim jaeyun!” and with that final yell from heeseung, jake ran out of the room.
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A, NOTE. pt2: the first part of the whole tying up & handcuff breaking was inspired by a jungkook fic i read on wattpad years ago so credit goes to that author for the inspiration ! i unfortunately can’t remember the fic nor the title :(
i’m so sorry for the delay that happened with this fic, it’s crazy to think about how this was supposed to be posted 2.5 months ago yet i just finished it, i’ve come to the realisation that i prefer longer fics that have more scenes in them which obviously require a lot of writing so i’ve decided to not set release dates for my future fics,
the foreshadow soulmate!jake is one that i’m still working on ! and it’s 100% going to be longer than this one considering that now this “surprise” fic is my longest one :0 a bit shocking for me honestly, anywho next up i’ll try my hardest to put out my jake fic but if not & i put out smth different just know that im still working on it bcs i really like soulmate tropes :] anywho happy new year ! wishing everyone happiness & health for this year <3
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
Text
Miguel and Hobie Fighting for Your Love
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Summary: Both men knew they were wildly in love with you. But, as you remain oblivious to their feelings, their conflict strengthens. A war is brewing.
“I won’t let you have her.” Miguel’s eyes gleamed between the velvet sheets of artificial night, the dim glow of the control panel at his back, casting a shroud over his front. Hobie stood before him, gripping his guitar by the neck, resting it over the back of his shoulders. His other hand sat in his pocket, creating the illusion of comfort. Yet, beneath his lax exterior, Miguel could hear his heart pounding. Racing. Hobie drew a breath, looked off to the side.
“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Big Man.” Eyes half-lidded, he returned to Miguel, dragging his stare. Lethargy. Gave a thin smile. “Though, I suppose that if you knew that – really believed it – you’d know that you don’t stand a chance–”
Miguel’s fists clenched, the sound of his suit squealing beneath his grip causing Hobie’s gaze to flicker. He swallowed, shallow. He knew what Miguel was capable of – had seen how many lives he’d gladly put at risk for you. And he’d do it again if it weren’t for the fact that your friendship to both him and Hobie was what kept them locked in a stalemate; a spectral triangle; Bermuda. An anomaly in itself.
Of course, you had no clue that you’d captured the hearts of the two superheroes. The problem was that they did. Their softened attitude towards you, their care for the most banal of features of your life, their seemingly bottomless investment in your close circle of friends and beyond could have been construed as platonic concern. Friendship of the highest degree.
Once they realised that, individually, they were not alone in the pursuit of your heart, a competition was born. Miguel, ever the organised, careful individual he was, orchestrated your time together, manufactured it, monitored it – poured over it with a fine-toothed comb. Many a night had he spent awake wondering what your accidental brushing of hands had meant, whether the warmth that had flushed your cheeks was the result of his presence or the joke he’d just cracked, your laughter Calliopic. Persephonic.
He savoured every hug you shared, no matter how brief, sewing the patchwork memories into the fabric of his heart, the fragrance soaking into his bones. Your phantom warmth wrapped around him tightly, a second suit, whenever he needed it – needed you. He’d find ways of encouraging physical contact whenever he could, his heart throbbing at the feeling of your face pressed into his chest, your arms around his back as he embraced you.
He wondered what your kisses tasted like. Whether you thought of him when you used that chapstick he bought you, ice cream cake – the aroma of celebration. Because, to him, any moment with you was a celebration.
Miguel would offer to take you home after work. Though, not via ordinary means of travel.
He’d permit you to hop onto his back and slide your arms around his neck, taking you on a spin through the city, bringing you to the highest peaks, the pinnacles of human beauty through neon illuminations making the city sparkle like a sea of jewels. He’d feel his heart stutter as you shifted to get a closer look, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, cheeks just touching as you gasped, took in the scenery. In times like these, he was glad of the mask, of his ability to hide the effect you had on him, how you played his emotions like a string instrument.
“I’ve never seen the city like this before,” you told him, voice gentle at his ear, almost carried away by the wind. Miguel heard you. He strained his every spider sense to do so, no matter the conditions.
“Hobie hasn’t done this with you?” He tried not to let the hope in his tone show. You shrugged. 
“He’s more of a stargazing kind of guy. Though, I’ll let you in on a secret,” your voice tailed off. Miguel leaned in. You whispered. “I think he just doesn’t want to go pivoting off buildings after a long day of already having done so.”
Miguel felt an idea spark in his brain. The start of a new ritual, routine, for just you and him. This would be for him what stargazing was to hobie – he’d bring you closer to the stars than Hobie ever could!
Whenever he’d return you home, whisking you through the midnight air, he’d place you at your door, imply what a good time he’d had. And, as always, you thanked him, eyes crinkling before parting with a hug.
Miguel would wait until you’d enter your apartment and locked the door behind you before leaving, and even then, he’d find himself perched atop a nearby building, waiting for something, anything to happen – for any opportunity wherein he could prove to you he was a hero. In times like these, he wished with a selfish heart that you lived in a more decrepit part of the city.
He realised how much he loved you – adored you – when you fell asleep in his arms after work one evening. He’d been carrying you to your room when you just nodded off. In his grasp, you were tiny, fragile. Weak. The responsibility of protection, the fierce need to watch over you, to possess you entirely, overcame him, overwhelmed every sensibility he’d cultivated throughout his life.
And so, he watched you. Eneamoured himself with your sleeping features, the trust you displayed to have fallen asleep on him. In his mind, this becomes a core memory. One which he turns into a joke between the two of you, his own fragment of sanctity – the beginnings of close friendship – one he’d use to build a statue like Hobie’s. A statue of you. 
Hobie’s eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled as his lips turned up in a half-sneer.
“You think the odd hug and a second of eye contact constitute as…what? A chance?” He scoffed. “A signifier that she feels for you more than she feels for the common man?” Incredulity danced in hobie’s eyes. Seethed from between his lips. The corner of his lips pulled back, revealed a smirk.
“Get over yourself, Mate. If she were interested, you’d know it by now.”
Of course, Hobie had his own collection of memories regarding you, his own wardrobe of moments sewn together with the thread of mirth to wear and fashion whenever and however he so pleased. He would wear it out to parties, on the town, to the Spidey-Station (as he referred to it with you). Show Miguel that his bare-threaded ribbon was nothing compared to his tapestry.
You and Hobie would wander the city when it was late and dark and quiet, talking about anything and everything that crossed your minds, more often than not leading the two of you to howl with laughter, leaning against each other as tears flooded from your eyes. The story, regardless of how funny it had been, held no weight compared to the joy that sparked in Hobie’s chest whenever you touched, whenever you simply existed with him. Fireworks.
You got him in ways nobody else truly could.
Many times had he come to visit you, only to lay his head in your lap and tell you what was bothering him. Sometimes it was trivial, others it was not. And every time, you’d sit and listen, playing with his hair and the badges on his jacket. And, of course, Hobie did the same for you.
One evening, you’d come banging on Hobie’s door, voice distraught as you called for him. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he heard how distressed you were, and, when he saw you, his heart tore. Your face was tear-streaked and your posture gave the impression of anguish, immortal and unrelenting.
“Hobie,” you cried. “Am–” your sniffing diced your words like meat in a kitchen. “Am I pretty?!”
Hobie blinked, unsure if he’d heard the question. And when he didn’t respond, you wailed.
Hobie knew what this was, for you’d spoken about it at length many times before. Insecurity was a powerful tool, especially when fuelled with sleep-deprivation and alcohol, one which Hobie wished he could destroy. But, while he couldn’t do that yet, he reached for you and took you in his arms. And as you cried into his shoulder, he told you how beautiful you were, how surprised he was that he was able to get a look in with you at all with how many men were chasing after you. And when you tried to say that no such thing had ever happened, he pulled back, gave you a smile, the visage of mischief.
“That’s ‘cause I scared ‘em all away!”
Your veneer cracked, and a laugh sprung from the concrete, the beginnings of life in an apocalypse. What Hobie wanted to say, though, what he nearly said, was everything he felt for you – how no word in the human vernacular could ever even begin to comprehend or compare how ethereal you were to him, how widely his love for you encompassed his very being, everything he said, did and wanted dictated entirely by the thought of you.
He opened his mouth, holding you close again. He could say it all now, while you were drunk – pretend it never happened if the exchange turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t live with your rejection, even if you’d have no memory of it.
He closed his mouth, swallowed the confession that teetered on his tongue like a pill. Consumed his contemplation, obscuring his feelings from you for just a little longer. While he couldn’t say it – not yet – he pulled you closer still, chest-to-chest, one hand at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. A lover’s lock. And he held you. Tightly.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in every universe, (Y/N). I should know.” he murmured. He felt you nestle into him. You’d heard him. He sighed. “I just wished you could see it, too.”
Both men viewed the other as possessing some unattainable advantage, the beginnings of a  fabled proverb blatant in their desire to attain what they thought the other had. What they were both striving for.
You.
For Hobie, the very thing he had prided himself on was his self-believed downfall. Friendship. The two of you had been friends for years, basked in a platonic limelight. Initially, Hobie hadn't needed to worry about how you viewed him, but as he fell deeper and deeper in love with you the longer he knew you, the fact that you’d maintained such a close friendship with him without once giving the indication of romanticism frightened him.
Miguel had only waltzed into your life a few months ago. You didn’t have to see him in a platonic light, didn’t have to bear witness to his deepest faults or his subtlest of quirks. Quite simply, you didn’t know enough about him for his mystique to be shattered.
On the contrary, Miguel saw how close you and Hobie were, how, without saying a word, the two of you knew what the other was thinking. He found your incessant asking of “Do you think Hobie would like this?” when visiting a store to be intimidating. He wondered if you asked the same when you went out with Hobie. If he was the subject of your concern as your best friend often was.
Whereas Hobie knew your every thought and desire, Miguel knew he clutched at straws by comparison, drinking in every detail you afforded him, taking nothing for granted. He’d bring you gifts, stories, regalements from his time out in the field, and his chest would swell whenever you watched him with wide eyes. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that your astonishment was confined to him and him alone. He prayed that your years of friendship to Hobie was enough to dull any excitement you may feel when he told you similar tales.
This war was simply beginning, no two ways about it. And as they surveyed each other, Hobie and Miguel, weighing up the other’s pull on you, their minds conjoined to speak once and for the last time.
“May the best man win.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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aft3rhrs · 6 months
Text
— heaven ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: romance
warnings: yandere, allusions to kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, mentions of reader getting locked up, a tiny (👌) bit of angst, possessiveness, corruption kink, rough sex, choking, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, implied big!dick jk 💁‍♀️, he's a simp, creampie, some aftercare & lots of kisses, still messed up tho lmao I'm sorry <3
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It never seemed heaven would be so dark. A room draped in shadows, the door carefully locked. Not even a glint of moonlight broke through the drawn curtains; complete isolation from the world down below.
Even if Jungkook turned on the lights, you wouldn't have been able to see much; not with your face pressed into the mattress rocking beneath your knees. The headboard banged against the wall rhythmically, the sound mingling with each slap of his balls against you, thrusts deep and hard, stretching you out to your limits.
You could feel his chest pressing down onto your back, skin warm and sweaty. His hand remained on your head, lips glued to your ear. The sounds spilling out of them made your head spin, drool seeping into the sheets by your open mouth.
"Always such a good girl for me," he whispered, hot and low. His fingers tangled in your hair, giving it a tender pull. "Fuck me back." His free hand squeezed your hip, encouraging you to move. "Come on, baby. Fuck me back."
Your pussy clenched, muffled whines growing louder. Mindlessly, your hips moved with Jungkook's guidance, numb to anything but the searing pleasure of his cock spearing through you.
"Yeah— fuuck—" the soft groans turned deeper, your little hole soaked and so fucking desperate; just the way he liked it. Just as desperate for him as he was for you.
He grit his teeth, trying to hold a little longer, abdomen tensing against you.
"I love you," he gasped, "tell me what you want, baby. I'll give you anything you want."
A hiss escaped him when he felt you tighten again, signaling that you knew exactly what he meant, and your pretty, little head was no less depraved than his own. That only spurred him on, made his hips snap against your ass faster, sloppier, sweat shining on his temple.
He wasn't expecting you to be coherent and provide an answer to his question; it was like he just wanted to establish dominance, mark his claim, driven by the sadistic instincts that flickered to life in him in the raw dark, like stars. Equally charming and destructive.
"Gonna," he breathed, the slaps of skin against skin harsh and relentless, "gonna come on my cock, you pathetic whore? You're so good for me. You know you're mine, only mine, and this little pussy knows it too. Always so fucking wet for me."
It seemed more like taunting than a simple reminder; he was trying to get under your skin. As if he didn't already make a home within your ribcage. As if he hasn't infested your bloodstream the first time he had kissed you. The filthy words messed with your mind, made your hole pulse around him harder with each thrust.
"Mm, fuck, fuck, ah, why so quiet tonight?" He moaned into your ear, gently slipping his hand around your neck. He gave it a firm squeeze, immediately getting one back on his cock, throbbing and slippery as it pounded into you. "Come all over me, kitten, don't hold back."
You whimpered, your thighs shaking under his, teeth biting into your lower lip, hard. Didn't he fuck your brains out in the last three months? There should have been no thoughts left there at all, and yet something seemed to be wrong, like some semblance of doubt was keeping you hostage tonight. Didn't he do a good job getting rid of that? Jaw tensing, he choked you harder, snapping his hips forward faster.
"I said be a good girl and come for me," he gritted.
He was desperately close himself, his cock hot and swollen, spurting precum as it rubbed against your walls.
"Fucking come for me," Jungkook groaned. "This was supposed to be a celebration. Stop holding back. Do you want me to bring you back down to the fucking basement?"
You gasped, but he could barely hear it over his ragged breathing; how tightly his veiny hand enveloped your frail neck didn't help. However, he could still feel you, especially on his sensitive cock.
"Oh... oh, fuck, are you—"
You quivered around it, so tight his movements stuttered, white spots dancing around his vision at the sensation.
"Did you just come? You want me to keep you like a fucking pet, baby? Oh god, yeah—"
A burst of warmth spilled inside you, your skin tingling and head fuzzy with the limited oxygen his grip on you provided. You shuddered under him, moaning as he fucked his cum deep into your abused cunt. You could feel him all the way in your stomach, his groans loud as kept twitching inside you. Oh, he liked this; how much he corrupted you, how hard you came at the thought of him owning you. He liked it, because he came hard as well, hand loosening around your throat as his hips stilled, last, few spurts of hot seed shooting into you.
You tried to catch your breath, soft kisses trailed along your shoulder slowly bringing you back down from your high. You felt warm, satiated, full; you felt Jungkook's lips quirking in a satisfied smile against your skin, too, his cheek resting on your neck.
"Good girl," he whispered. "So good. I love you."
"I love you," you sighed, eyes slipping shut.
Jungkook hummed.
"Finally got your voice back?" He brushed your hair to the side, exposing more of your skin, his lips pressing into your cheek. "Should I be concerned, baby? Do you want me to stay a little longer?"
You shook your head. Any other time, Jungkook would have cleaned you up, especially before going anywhere. Tonight, though, he wanted you just like this. Naked, in his bed, with his cum dripping out of you while you drifted off. You didn't seem to mind either, heartbeat and breathing steadying as he started getting dressed.
You were almost asleep by the time he crouched down by the bed, the touch of his lips on yours making you stir.
"You know this is just for show, right?"
His question was soft, eyebrows furrowed. No matter how strong, it looked like not even Jungkook could escape some monsters — something like doubt, something like fear. Everything only felt amplified when it came to you.
"Yeah," you whispered. "Promise."
Perhaps three months ago his words would have hurt; but there was no wound anymore, only scars, and his gentle fingers ghosting over them.
Your soft reply smoothed out the frantic, worried fabrics of his soul, the image of you lying there, in his room, glowing; surrounded by his scent and his sheets, so domestic. It was everything he ever needed. His sacred place.
He sighed, contented, pressing the next kiss onto your forehead.
"Good. Mm, then rest. Just stay here and look pretty, my love. I'll collect your ransom and be right back."
He brushed his knuckles along your flushed cheek, dark, hooded eyes boring into yours.
"Can I have another kiss for good luck?"
A pleased hum left him when you leaned in, lips pouty and swollen, ready to be kissed more and more, and how could he ever not want to do just that?
He held your face with an inked hand, and a black mask in the other.
Heaven was a pricey thing to uphold; the church would know. And not that Jungkook didn't already have enough to spoil you, but all angels were painted in gold, weren't they?
"Night, baby," he murmured lovingly.
His voice never led you astray, lulling you to sleep, helping you land safely in the arms of the mellow abyss behind your eyelids. He kissed both.
"Gonna be back real soon."
You didn't get to hear that promise, but he didn't mind. In a few hours, he'll be holding you in his arms. All angels were shimmering gold, to match the golden gates; his angel deserved the same.
In the end, there was nothing wrong with a man of faith collecting donations for the purposes of worship. Right?
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beatrixstonehill2 · 29 days
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Vicky came from a rich family, having all the best opportunities in education available to her. She always wanted to escape her family's wealthy bubble and study abroad, maybe even do charity work in foreign countries that were less fortunate. Soon into her tenure at Yale she found herself at the opportunity of her dreams, to pursue her Master's in social science as she traveled to other countries, putting the eight languages she spoke to the test along the way. She set her sights on South America, where she'd be deployed with resources, a small staff, and a general goal of providing mental health aid to people in smaller villages on the outskirts of majors cities in countries like Chile, Peru, and Brazil. All while documenting her journey, of course.
What started off as an eye-opening, wonderful journey where she met all sorts of wonderful people, giving them counseling to the best of her ability, even dispensing medication in some cases. Vicky felt confident in her background and education thus far, albeit a bit lost from time to time. Soon none of that mattered, as she became a source of fascination to the young, male locals, who increasingly went to see her just to ask her inappropriate questions and try to hit on her. Vicky's odyssey of mental health aid quickly spiraled into a continent-wide exploration of her sexuality.
She went from village to village, city to city, the red carpet rolled out by her staff to offer aid, but that aid went from counseling and occasionally dispensing medicine, to letting the stressed out or lonely local men line up to fuck her. Offering 'counseling' to the girls she met with to dress more slutty, glamorize their appearances, and let themselves indulge in mindless sex for fun. Soon the only medication she was dispensing was for STDs, not that she bothered to take any, citing collecting all of these 'bugs' as part of her educational journey, getting genuinely excited when new symptoms flared up, compounding other issues, soon turning her pussy into a hugely swollen, red mound of puffy, sore tissue that burnt simply to touch, and men just loved how tight it felt from becoming so extremely swollen. Vicky soon came to view having such an STD-riddled pussy as a sign of true womanhood and a trophy all girls should seek out.
Vicky's six years came and went, and by the time she was supposed to return to the states, to Yale, and present her thesis, she declined to go back, becoming such a beloved pseudo-celebrity throughout various regions of South America that she no longer required resources or a staff from her college. Cities and towns provided her everything she needed, namely an inviting building for men to line up around as Vicky was fucked senseless in front of an audience of women, lecturing them like a professor in Portuguese, Spanish, or Guarani, depending on the region, about how to be a proper woman. To denounce formal education, give up reading and learning at any sort of school, to hit the streets, walk around naked, become free-use, and revel in every catcall or grope from a stranger. To lean into every man's slightest advance and encourage as much casual sex as possible. Her 'thesis', if anything, became the revelation that her only purpose was to stay as pregnant as possible all the time, and never say no to sex, even in the middle of giving birth. And that all girls should probably do the same.
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ssprayberrythings · 25 days
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living in oblivion | LS2
logan sargeant x female!reader, oscar piastri x platonic!reader
warnings: none just two people oblivious to their feelings for one another
note: im obviously not someone who works for a f1 team so i have no idea how reading the data actually works but this is a piece of fiction so just go with it lol
special mention to @whydowesleepeachnight for this idea! sorry it took me so long to get it out to the world, i hope it lives up to the idea you gave to me (:
word count: 4k
masterlist | taglist
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You were currently at the first race of the new season, supporting Oscar. You and Oscar had been best friends since you were 7 and Oscar was 8. The two of you met at summer camp where you spent 6 weeks together, getting to know everything about each other. 
When time came to say goodbye, you had promised each other you’d call and email (through your parents of course). By some miracle, you never lost touch and your friendship only got stronger the older you got. 
When Oscar started his journey towards racing and he shared with you his goal was to be an F1 driver, you showed him nothing but encouragement and support. You celebrated all of his successes and achievements. 
When he met Lily his girlfriend, you were beyond happy, seeing your best friend happy and in love. It also helped that you and Lily got along instantly and she became one of your closest friends. 
You were brought back to reality when Lily called your name 
“Sorry, what was that?” You asked the girl 
She laughed “I just asked if you had seen him yet today. We could go pop in before he has to start getting ready for the race” she said again smiling at you. 
“Oh yeah, let’s go!” You nodded, you enjoyed getting to see him before the race and you knew Lily did too, especially with how busy he usually was after a race.
As you and Lily walked through the paddock towards the McLaren hospitality, you passed Lando. 
“Hey if you’re looking for Oscar, he’s outside of the William’s hospitality talking with Alex” Lando told you two smiling before continuing his walk wherever he was initially going.
You and Lily offered him a thanks and continued walking till you reached your destination and sure enough there was Oscar with Alex but there was another driver with them, Logan Sargeant. You felt your heart skip a beat. 
Being best friends with Oscar, you obviously knew Logan and there had been plenty of times when you would hang out with Oscar that you also hung out with Logan.
As the three of you got older, you grew up and you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards Logan. The blue eyes and blonde hair got you. 
As you approached the group, Oscar noticed you and Lily
“Hey! What are you doing here?” He asked bringing his girlfriend in for a side hug and offering you a smile 
“We just wanted to see you before the race started” she told him 
“And wish you luck” you added finding your voice, hoping the nerves weren’t noticeable. 
Oscar just smiled “Thanks” he told you.
“Lily you know Logan and Alex. Y/N this is Alex and you know Logan” Oscar introduced you to the other William’s driver 
“Nice to meet you” you told Alex who smiled at you 
“Hi Logan” you said politely trying to stay as cool and calm as you could 
“Hey Y/N!” Logan said, offering you a smile which you returned, doing your best not to blush.
The five of you spoke a bit longer before the three drivers had to go and get ready.
You and Lily said goodbye to the William’s boys as they walked into their hospitality, then you walked a bit away, to give the couple a moment before the two of you walked back to where you initially were. 
When Lily joined you again, you started walking back 
“So Logan’s pretty cute” Lily said out of the blue 
“Lily! You have a boyfriend” you said looking at her to which she rolled her eyes 
“Not for me you goof” she said “For you” she finished 
If you had been drinking anything, you would’ve probably spit it out at her words 
“What is that supposed to mean? I don’t like Logan” you said quickly which earned a look from your friend 
“Judging by the blush on your face at the mention of him and how defensive you just got I’d say that’s not the total truth” she said matter of factly. 
You bit the inside of your cheek, not sure what to say 
“And now I know from the silence, how right I am” she said smirking which earned a groan from you. She was so observant, it was annoying at times. 
“Okay yes Logan is cute and yes I may or may not be attracted to him” you told her
“But it’s not a big deal and I don’t want to make it a big deal” you told her,
She nodded appearing to be lost in thought.
“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no” you told her. You had been friends with the girl long enough now to know when she was planning something 
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say” she said 
“I don’t care, I could tell you were planning something I would’ve disagreed with” you explained as you reached your destination. 
“Lils can we just drop it for now? I want to enjoy our time here and just cheer on Oscar” you asked the girl 
She sighed “Fine but we aren’t done talking about this” she told you before smiling at you.
You sighed, the race had bought you a bit more time from having this conversation with the girl. 
-
Since that moment with Lily, things only got worse and it got harder to hide your attraction towards Logan whenever you were near him. 
Lily had told Oscar which you assumed she would and the two of them were relentless in “accidentally” having you and Logan be near eachother. 
When Lily wasn’t around, Oscar on his own wasn’t any better.
He would playfully pick on you for your crush to the point where you were certain Logan definitely had to have known of your crush by now or atleast suspected something. 
Now it was time for the Miami Grand Prix which was a big deal for Logan as it was his home race. 
You weren’t going to come but Oscar had insisted you had to be there, his exact words were “to see your boy in his element” even though Logan wasn’t yours.
Fortunately you couldn’t argue with him cause deep down you wanted to be there. 
You had gotten in a few hours earlier than you had told Oscar because you wanted to surprise Oscar at the track.
It was media day so you knew he’d be around somewhere and he had already given you your friends & family pass so you had a way in. 
You took an Uber over and walked in no problem. As you walked to McLaren’s hospitality you passed Lando and Max, 
“Hey Y/N! Oscar didn’t say you’d be here today” Lando smiled giving you a quick hug 
“Yeah I thought I’d surprise him” you told him 
“Oh well, have fun doing that” he chuckled before you said your goodbyes and parted ways. 
You walked past William’s hospitality, not noticing Logan and Alex filming some media content.
Logan recognized you immediately but you were too far for him to call your name plus he was in the middle of something 
“Bro did you hear me?” Alex asked as the camera recorded them “You just got distracted” he laughed at his teammate 
“Oh sorry” Logan awkwardly laughed before turning his attention to Alex and the work they were doing. 
The camera that was on them had caught the whole interaction and if someone had to describe the look on Logan’s face when he spotted you, they’d say it was someone who was in complete awe.
That’s the effect you had on him, you just didn’t know it. 
You made it to McLaren just as Oscar was walking out 
“Surprise” you said when your eyes met causing you to laugh, you wanted to do a bit more but the timing didn’t allow for that. 
Oscar smiled widely and gave you a bear hug when he was off the steps “I’m so happy you’re here” he exclaimed, you smiled at him. 
You ended up spending your day around McLaren while Oscar did his media duties. You had brought your iPad so you did some work to pass the time. 
When he was done for the day, he found you in his drivers room, you had dozed off with your head leaning against the wall, your iPad discarded on the couch next to you and you were hugging your legs to your chest. 
He quickly snapped a photo of you like this, remembering to use that when your birthday rolled around, then he walked over to wake you up 
“Sleeping beauty, it’s time to go” he said chuckling slightly shaking you gently, you must not have been in a deep sleep cause you woke up almost right away 
“Shit sorry, I think the travelling just crept up on me” you said stretching your legs and arms, rubbing your eyes to wake you up 
“All good, I was coming to get you so we could head out” he told you walking over to pick up his backpack.
You got up, grabbing your iPad closing the case and putting it back in your tote bag. 
“Sounds good” you said. The two of you made your way out of the building before going to the parking lot. 
“You know Logan asked where you were today” Oscar told you casually “He said he saw you on your way to McLaren earlier but was too busy at the moment to say hello” he finished 
“Oh I feel bad, I should’ve went and said hi” you said biting your lip out of habit.
Even if you liked Logan, you weren’t the type of person to avoid him because of it, at the end of the day you still considered him a friend. 
“I think he’s still around, you could pop in, I'll wait for you in the car” he offered 
“Yeah, okay, I’ll be quick, thanks Osc” you smiled at him before picking up the pace and walking to William’s. 
-
When you got there, Alex was leaving with Lily his girlfriend
“Hey Alex, is Logan in there?” You asked him 
He nodded “Yeah, he is, maybe he’ll listen to you about leaving. He keeps looking at the data from the previous races so he knows what to improve on for this race” Alex told you 
You frowned,
“Oh, okay yeah I’ll see what I can do” you told him before offering him and Lily a small smile, walking around them going inside to Logan’s driver room. 
You knocked on the door
“Come in” you heard Logan’s voice on the other side of the door, you opened the door 
“Hey stranger” you joked offering him a smile 
“Oh hey” Logan said his mood picking up from seeing you
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
You walked in “Oscar told me you were asking about me so I thought I’d come say hi incase I don’t see you before the race” you told him smiling which he returned. 
It was obvious to anyone but the two of you that you had a mutual interest in each other. 
“Oh, that’s nice of you” he replied 
You weren’t sure what else to say but then you remembered what Alex told you, 
“Alex tells me you’re refusing to leave, something about looking at data” you said casually walking over to the couch he was sitting on, sitting next to him.
Sure enough he had an iPad open on his lap with data pulled up. 
“I just want to make sure I do a good job at this race, it’s a big deal, I want to make everyone proud” he shared with you 
You nodded understanding where he was coming from “Logan you’re a good driver and everyone is already proud of you, regardless of how you do” you told him trying to reassure him 
“Plus you can only reread the data so many times, the information is still the same” you continued
“You know what you’re doing and when the time comes to be behind the wheel, your instincts will take over” you finished, trying to make him feel better.  
He looked over at you, he looked tired but he nodded his head acknowledging what you had said 
“C’mon, we’ll give you a ride back to the hotel” you told him nicely, he thanked you and closed the iPad which you took from him. 
“What are you doing?” He asked confused 
“I don’t trust you wont secretly try and steal a couple glances in the car” you said putting the iPad in your bag. He still looked confused and a bit apprehensive
“Don’t worry I won’t go sharing secrets to your opposing teams” you joked, not earning a laugh from Logan you stopped joking, 
“Okay how about you come with me back to my room, we can order some food, you can give your eyes a break from the screen and then together we can look it over some more” you offered. 
You realized what this meant and what it could’ve implied but you just wanted to help out your friend. 
After a moment of silence he agreed and then the two of you made your way out of the building, meeting up with Oscar in the parking lot 
“That was not quick” he told you when you got in the passenger seat and Logan in the back 
“What were you doing?” He asked curisouly
“Don’t worry about it, we just got caught up talking” you told him 
“Now can we leave? I’m hungry” you changed the subject, knowing Oscar would keep pushing.
He sighed and started the car, driving to the hotel. When you got there, you made your way to the elevator, Logan following. 
Oscar stayed in the lobby, seeing some of the other drivers and choosing to chat with them before heading up to his room 
“What’s up with those two?” Lando asked seeing you and Logan together 
“I don’t know, I’m hoping they finally confessed their feelings” Oscar said “Not sure how much more of this oblivion I can take” he said drastically 
“Maybe they’re spending the night together” Lando said wiggling his eyebrows to indicate what he was referring to 
“Oh ew, I don’t want to think of that, she’s like a sister to me” Oscar said groaning, even though in the back of his mind, he knew it could be a possibility. 
-
Meanwhile back in your hotel room, you and Logan had ordered room service and made yourselves comfortable on the couch.
You put something on the TV to fill the silence and pass the time while you waited for your food.
You eventually pulled the iPad back out and opened it, looking at the data while Logan just sat silently next to you.
You had always enjoyed stats and reading data however this was a different kind of data you didn’t fully understand. 
Eventually there was a knock on the door, your food. “I’ll get it” he told you standing up and getting the food, being sure to thank the gentleman that brought it. 
Logan came and sat on the couch putting your food on the coffee table infront of him. You put the iPad down, wanting to eat instead of looking at things you didn’t understand. 
“Do you think there’s anything I can improve on?” he asked after sometime passed
You looked at him, he looked so sincere right in this moment. 
“The only thing I found was a lot of numbers and words that I don’t fully understand however I’m going to assume because they repeat themselves it’s an indicator you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to” you told him 
“You’d think you were a good driver or something” you joked nudging his shoulder, causing a slight chuckle to leave him. 
There was a comfortable silence that fell upon you as you continued to eat your food. 
“Thank you” Logan spoke after some time passed. He had finished his food and was now looking at you 
You turned to meet his eyes “It was nothing but you’re welcome” you smiled. Damn he loved seeing your smile 
“Can I ask you something?” He asked sounding slightly nervous which caused you to swallow a lump in your thought. This could be related to anything. 
“Sure” you said trying to sound as casual as you could 
“Would it be okay if I kissed you” he asked softly looking in your eyes. 
You thought your ears might’ve been deceiving you,
‘did he just ask if he could kiss me’, you thought to yourself. 
Becoming aware of your silence, you slowly nodded “That would definitely be okay” you told him as he moved closer. 
Suddenly you didn’t know what to do, it was as if you had never been kissed before. He slowly leaned in, his one hand on the side of your face. 
You leaned into his embrace and before you knew it his lips were on yours, you instinctively kissed back.
The way your lips fit perfectly together, you would think they were two puzzle pieces placed together. 
Eventually you both had to pull away but Logan didn’t pull away fully, he rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed
“I’ve been wanting to do that for way too long” he confessed. 
You were taken back, you never thought he felt the same “I could say the same thing” you chuckled. 
He pulled away opening his eyes looking at you “We were so oblivious” he joked which brought a giggle out of you.
After that you cleaned up your food, you let Logan read over the data a bit more, this time he explained what everything meant to you then eventually you put the iPad back in your bag and went to cuddle on your bed. 
“I know I should go but I don’t want to leave you” Logan told you while your head rested on his chest. 
You looked up at him “You could spend the night” you suggested then realized what that may have implied
“Not like that, just so than you don’t have to leave” you added a blush coming to your face as Logan chuckled slightly. 
“Don’t worry I knew what you meant” he reassured you 
“But if you’re offering, I’m fine with staying” he smiled “ill leave in the morning to quickly stop at my room to clean up” you nodded then pushed yourself up to go get and get changed. 
That night you and Logan fell asleep cuddled up next to each other with your head nuzzled between his shoulder and his neck meanwhile his arm was tightly around you keeping you close. 
-
The following morning, you were awoken to knocking on your door, relatively loud knocking. You groaned and cuddled closer to Logan who was still asleep. 
When the knocking didn’t stop, you begrudgingly got out of Logan’s embrace and made your way to the door, opening it and seeing Oscar standing there
“Oscar what do you want so urgently, I was sleeping” you said still half asleep 
Before Oscar could answer, Logan appeared rubbing some sleep out of his eyes 
“Dude you knock really loudly” he said before going into the washroom, leaving a stunned Oscar and a slightly blushing you. 
“You were saying” You reminded Oscar who was still shocked at seeing Logan in your room. 
“No no doesn’t matter now” he said “I believe you have something to tell me” he looked at you
You shrugged deciding to be chill about it, knowing it would drive Oscar mad 
“Nope, nothing to say” you said pretending to think, while Logan exited the washroom seeming more awake this time 
“Logan is there anything to tell Oscar?? He seems to think there is” you informed Logan of the topic of conversation. 
Logan picking up on what you were doing, shook his head,
“No I don’t believe so” he said wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if this was a normal occurrence. 
Oscar was still shook and clearly speechless from his lack of words 
“You’re both going to drive me mental” he finally said “Okay well whatever this is” he said referring to you and Logan 
“I wish you the best and also I was coming to ask if you wanted to join us for breakfast but I’ll think I’ll just leave you be” he finished 
“Thanks Osc” you told him smiling at him, before he said goodbye and Logan shut the door. 
“Back to bed” you said turning to go back to the bed but before you could do so Logan gently grabbed your wrist and turned you, bringing you closer to him 
“First a kiss” he said before leaning down and kissing you.
You smiled in the kiss, kissing him back. 
-
That race in Miami ended up being one of Logan’s best, he finished in P7 which earned the team some points and was an overall great showcase of his driving abilities. 
When the race was over and he found you, he engulfed you in a massive hug 
“Logan that was so good, I know you didn’t get on the podium but I am so proud of you” you told him hugging him back 
“I don’t care, that was one of the best races I’ve had in awhile and I’m so glad you were here to watch it” he explained pulling away smiling proudly
 “You must bring me good luck” he smirked tucking a stand of your hair behind your ear
“Guess that means you can’t miss a race” you chuckled before someone called his name telling you he had to go do his after race duties 
“I’ll see you around” he told you, you nodded your head and decided to lean up and leave a kiss on his cheek
“I’ll be here” you told him as he blushed from your kiss before walking away. 
You were so happy that things had worked out for you when it came to Logan. You couldn’t wait to catch Lily up with all the details even though you were sure Oscar had already done so.
You laughed to yourself thinking about his reaction before deciding to go find your best friend and congratulate him on his podium finish, he had gotten P3. 
When you found him, you gave him a big hug “Osc I’m so proud of you!” You exclaimed genuinely happy for your friend. 
He hugged you back “Thanks Y/N” then pulled away 
“Did you see Logan? P7 is good” he asked smirking at you while you rolled your eyes playfully 
“Yeah I already saw him, gave him a reward for doing so well” you raised your eyebrows at Oscar who groaned 
“Oh ew I didn’t need to know that” he said making you laugh 
“Slow down, I didn’t say what, get your head out of the gutter” you exclaimed pretending to act offended before laughing 
“I just gave him a kiss on the cheek if you must know” you told Oscar 
“So I guess this means you finally told him about your crush?” He asked already knowing the answer 
You nodded smiling at your best friend who mirrored your smile
“I’m happy for you two, seriously” he told you pulling you into a side hug “Now we can go on double dates” he said excitedly which you chuckled at 
“Yeah but are you sure you can handle the both of us picking on you especially when you say things like thongs instead of flip flops” you looked up at him 
He rolled his eyes “I take it back, im not happy anymore” he said even though you knew he was joking “And stop hating on my choice of words, it’s what I know” he groaned which earned a chuckle from you. 
“Whatever you say Osc” you patted his chest before pulling out of his embrace
“Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go find my favourite American and give him a proper reward for doing well” you told him smirking as he acted grossed out 
“Ahhh please keep those details to yourself, I don’t want to know about them” he said which you laughed at before turning away and going to find Logan so you could celebrate properly. 
-
taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee @asparklysoul @bwormie @meadhbhcavanagh @talksoprettyjjx & @ari-nicole
I've had this written in my notes for so long I just wasn't sure If I was ready to post it but I guess now is better than later!!
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yunhoszn · 2 months
Text
save a horse, ride a cowboy
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PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader
WORD COUNT 12.25k
GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3
SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.
MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!
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Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside. 
You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence. 
Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life. 
However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story. 
Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.
When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.
It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes. 
And then your grandparents decided to retire. 
Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.
Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time. 
But there was a bit of a setback.
”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.
”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”
”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”
”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”
You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres. 
Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later. 
The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. 
Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty. 
As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—
Oh. 
You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked. 
He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable. 
His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave. 
“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”
He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”
The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention. 
“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”
“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”
”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.
You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.
”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear. 
“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops. 
“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”
”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”
Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself. 
It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives. 
Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope. 
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It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again. 
You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.
The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.
”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby. 
“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”
”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”
Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.
”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.
”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”
Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.” 
“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”
”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”
”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.
And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years? 
The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?
You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good. 
“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.
He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.
”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”
That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”
“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate. 
“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache. 
The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. 
Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog. 
Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought. 
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As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.
Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.
Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now. 
You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.
Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore. 
Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.
Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.
Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.
The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.
With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)
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“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 
Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”
You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”
Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.
”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”
”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”
This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other. 
Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.
She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.
It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency. 
You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening. 
He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else. 
While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.
Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance. 
Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.
Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet. 
He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath. 
“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.
Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.” 
“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.
”Okay… If you say so…” 
Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague. 
In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.
He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong. 
Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects. 
You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage. 
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It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine. 
You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.
With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air. 
A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own. 
You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own. 
“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”
When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?
Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. 
Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric. 
His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse. 
Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain. 
You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal. 
It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen. 
Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself. 
Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple. 
But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there. 
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You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide. 
Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool. 
In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now. 
Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.
”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”
”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?” 
“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”
Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”
”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.
”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” 
“‘You turn me on.’” 
There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad. 
Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.
And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.
“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?” 
You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.
Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.
”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs. 
“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.
”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”
“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”
“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it. 
“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”
A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”
”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“
”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”
”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”
“What does that mean?” 
“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”
You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it. 
Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him. 
With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”
He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release. 
I saw the way he was looking at you. 
I saw how you were looking at him, too. 
You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho. 
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A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it. 
You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place. 
Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work. 
Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to. 
And then you came here. 
Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.
Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same. 
But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role. 
It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go. 
Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?
Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”
Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 
“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”
”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”
“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”
”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”
”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”
”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”
You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.
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“Have you ever ridden a horse?” 
You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches. 
“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?
”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.
“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”
”Uh, now?” 
Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.
It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters. 
Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away. 
“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.
”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.
You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”
He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.
The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else. 
One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different. 
Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. 
The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you. 
It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you. 
You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop. 
Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry. 
He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”
You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”
He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top. 
“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him. 
“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief. 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”
“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”
You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special. 
He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there. 
“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets. 
He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it. 
While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.
But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.
“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure. 
“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”
That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.
You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”
The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now. 
You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.
He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own. 
“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper. 
“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”
”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.
The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.
Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.
“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”
He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more. 
“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat. 
His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second. 
Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again. 
Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way. 
Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt. 
“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.
“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand. 
“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”
Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.
Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.
The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble. 
“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams. 
One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.
“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.
“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core. 
“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”
His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips. 
His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.
It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.
You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off. 
“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force. 
“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”
His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider. 
“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth. 
You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”
Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies. 
“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts. 
“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.” 
He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below. 
He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him. 
“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created. 
“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter. 
“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day. 
“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 
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vrisrezis · 10 months
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Love triangle?? With atsv characters
Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?
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Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.
This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.
How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.
Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.
She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.
You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.
“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.
She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?
“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.
There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!
Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.
You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.
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Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.
Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.
“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”
Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.
But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.
“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?
“Hey, miles?”
“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.
“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”
“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.
Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.
You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.
However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.
He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.
He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.
You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.
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Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.
You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.
But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?
A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.
Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.
You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.
Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.
You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.
While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.
Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.
His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.
If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.
Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:
He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.
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Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.
He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.
And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.
“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.
And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.
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crxss01 · 10 months
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heyyy! can i request a fluffy e-42 miles morales x fem!reader? i want anything. maybe not a toxic relationship though, if you can?
— Sweet Baby
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ you and miles hit the one year anniversary and you guys decide to stay in to celebrate. this is where you find out that he is a hopeless romantic.
warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, hugging, kissing, mature themes (light), physical touch is miles love language and there is no room for argument, he also has a sweet tooth and no one can deny that!
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña: my (little) girl, cariño: (my) dear, princesa: princess, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, tienes esa mente toda sucia: you have that mind all dirty, mi angelito: my little angel.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i love some non-toxic e-42 miles so i loved writing this, hope you enjoy!
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"hello, tia morales!" you said excitedly as you walked into her home.
"mi niña! how are you?" ms. morales asked as she held onto your shoulder, encouraging you to walk further in.
"i'm good, how have you been?" you asked back with a kind smile.
"i have been good, cariño." she looked you up and down as you two stopped walking, humming at your outfit. "you look so beautiful and just perfect, everything my boy deserves."
you laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up at that comment. "thank you, tia."
"you're welcome, cariño." she smiled. "now, go upstairs to the roof. miles has been working on that since yesterday night, didn't want help from anyone, and it look—" she slapped her hand on her mouth, closing her eyes and cursing in spanish. "i wasn't suppose to say anything."
you laughed once again, something that was usual to do when in the presence of rio morales. "don't worry, i won't tell him." you smiled and made your way to the stairs that would lead you to the rooftop.
you suspected that miles had been lying this entire time and that he just had pretended to have forgotten your anniversary and invited you over last minute this afternoon to have ‘ramen noddles’ with you, and now you were glad that you had dressed up nicely just in case.
as you reached the staircase you noticed how it was decorated with yellow fairy lights and petals laid on each step leading up to the door of the roof where an awkward miles was standing and he was dressed up nicely as well with his hands in his packets, a timid smile on his face.
"hey, princesa." he said and reached a hand out.
you immediately went up the steps, not so fast so that you wouldn't fall but not slow either. when you got near him you took his hand and he pulled you up the final step, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back.
"hey, bonito." you said and grabbed his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
he kissed you back, letting go of your hand and pulling you closer to him.
pulling away you squinted at him. "now why didn't you tell me you were planning this?"
"i wanted to surprise you, mami." he looked away, embarrassed.
a soft smile took over your features, and you put a finger under his chin, turning his face to you. "and i love this surprise, but what if i hadn't come dressed like this? i would look stupid next to my well dressed and handsome boyfriend." you fake pouted.
"you can never look stupid, ma." he shook his head and gave a peck to your lips. "now, you're going to put this on because the surprise isn't over." he lifted up a blindfold.
"uhh, what is that for?" you raised your eyebrows a few times.
"tienes esa mente toda sucia," he chuckled and started putting the blindfold on you, tying it in the back of your head. "don't worry you won't have it on for long."
"okay, i'm trusting you miles. don't lead me to the edge." you joked as he started leading you somewhere on the roof.
"i would never." you heard him say, but he sounded serious.
you two stopped walking and he took the blindfold off your eyes, you blinked a few times until your eyes focused again. the scenery in front of you made you gasp, it was beautiful and miles had done everything on his own.
on the floor laid a white with purple stripes picnic blanket that looked so delicate along with your favorite flowers inside multiple little bases that sat around the blanket, more fairy lights were lighting up the spot but this time in your favorite color instead of yellow, different types of foods and snacks that you and miles both liked laid there neatly and a cooler was open right outside the blanket showing your favorite drinks along with miles' favorites and water, board games like uno were also there on the blanket, and finally in the center of everything was a cake that was white with purple words that read 'one year down, forever to go."
"miles..." you looked at him teary eyed. "oh gosh!" you exclaimed, starting to fan your eyes. "i can't cry now, my mascara!"
miles laughed. "i take that as a you like it?" he sounded unsure.
"like it? i love it!" you jumped at him and wrapped your arms around his neck, and he hugged you back, arms coming around your waist. "thank you, thank you, thank you..." you whispered into his neck.
"anything for you, mi angelito."
you pulled away from his neck and kissed him, pouring in everything you were feeling at the moment into it. you wanted to tell him with that what words couldn’t describe and you hoped that he got the message.
after breaking off the kiss, you two settled down on the floor, sitting next to each other when miles pulled you into him making you lay your back against his chest.
“so…” you said. “what should we start with?”
“the cake.”
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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indigovigilance · 6 months
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Neil Gaiman's 3 cameos
"But Neil only has one cameo, it's in the movie theater!" Come now. What show are we watching? There is not just one cameo. There are three. The first one is...
The one that actually happened:
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but then there is also...
The one that was supposed to happen, but didn't:
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See those two people in the background? Lower left-hand corner of the screen? By rights, that should have been Neil and Terry, but Terry was taken from us too soon. Neil wrote this scene intending to do the cameo by himself, in honor of his friend, but on that day couldn't bring himself to do it:
Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it. [...] it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.
The fact that the scene exists at all, I think, can be taken as a cameo. I would interpret it as one of Neil's cameos, since he wrote it as a self-insert of an important aspect of his relationship to the work, but it is also Terry's cameo. Focusing on the empty space where something ought to be is itself a representation of what is missing; there is something to be said for drawing attention to absence, which is what our knowledge of how this scene came to be accomplishes.
There's no good way for me to transition to the next part of this meta other than to encourage you to take a deep breath and remember that Terry Pratchett has been immortalized by this and other works. He is beloved, and not forgotten, and lives on in our hearts, and we honor him by celebrating his works not only in mourning but in the full range of emotion that his works inspired in us, including laughter.
Because this next part is just silly.
Neil's AU Gary Stu cameo:
Neil Gaiman has told the story multiple times about how a careers advisor tried to redirect his life course from storytelling to... *shudder* accountancy. Here's one quote [source]:
Gaiman: I very much wanted to write comics. I remember as a kid, I was 15, and I had a meeting with an outside careers adviser. I was asked, “OK, well, what do you want to be?” And I said, “Well, I really want to write American comics.” There was a long pause, and then the outside careers adviser said, “Well, how do you go about doing that then?” I said, “You’re the careers adviser. You tell me.” And then there was another seriously long pause, and the adviser said, “Have you ever thought about accountancy?” I said, “No, I have never thought about accountancy.” And then we just sat and stared at each other.
We are all very lucky that teenager!Neil decided to completely disregard this advice, but Good Omens S1E2 contains a character that seems to resemble who Neil would have become (or thought he would have become) if he had let that careers advisor drag him into a life of bean-counting mundanity.
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We may not see Neil's face in this scene, but we do get to experience his existential dread of the what if: what if I had never become a storyteller? What if I had listened to that wanker, and lived a life without following my dreams?
I'd say it counts as a cameo.
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fabulouslygaybean · 2 years
Text
ughh. my little sister and i have our job orientation tomorrow (technically today ig) at like, 8:30am, but it's 1am and i can't sleep
#also i really need to clean my room. ive been so unmotivated and antisocial lately that its hard to do much of anything#ive fallen into a rut that feels an awful lot like the start of a depressive episode and i Cannot let that happen#literally idk whats up. i dont FEEL sad or unhappy but im so unmotivated and i struggle to reach out to my friends even though i WANT to -#- hang out with them. i WANT to clean my room and i WANT to do my chores and i WANT to have fun but my brain is being a bitch#its like my normal executive dysfunction times 20. which is insane#i need to suck it up. i really really need to just suck it up and somehow work and do this shit.#i have my work orientation tomorrow followed by a pool party a friend invited me to even tho for the 4th i don't celebrate the 4th of july#because its a bullshit holiday that doesn't actually mean shit#but i like pools and i like parties and there's gonna my friend and summer food and maybe fireworks so im going#the next day im gonna take a higher dose of pain meds and blare music in my room and im gonna force myself to clean it#i need to sweep the house first though so i might do that. then i can do my room#OH SHIT WAIT. FUCK. OH GOD. IM SUPPOSED TO GET MY HAIR CUT TUESDAY BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WANNA DO WITH IT#haircuts terrify me bc everything always looks like shit on me and its so hard to find haircuts that even have a chance of working#i have super thick and heavy hair thats covered in cowlicks and even some professionals ive been to have admitted its rlly fucking hard -#- to cut and work with so. yeah! im screwed!#im gonna frantically look for haircuts in my spare time. also im gonna frantically look for some the day of bc my appointment is in the -#- early evening/late afternoon so ill have some time beforehand. GOD i hate haircuts but i love having short hair#maybe ill grow out my hair when im older and on testosterone bc then people might not mistake me for a woman as often#finding haircuts is also hard bc like. i dont like the super clean and slick trendy men's haircuts that im encouraged to get#i want something slightly less tame and less mainstream which sounds rlly stupid but its true i guess#so many of the like.. alt haircuts or punk haircuts i look up online are so watered down and its hard to find much else other than that#ill find something. hopefully. okay WOW this got way off topic. sorry y'all. my brain is going like 200mph and im struggling to keep up#its 1:22 now so i need to sleep but i cant. tomorrow im gonna learn to drive what's essentially a heavy duty offroad golf cart#which is gonna be fun lol. also the pool party should be fun assuming my body doesn't decide to fuck things up for me
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rookiesbookies · 4 months
Text
Boys reacting to their s/o smacking their ass
Here’s the boys I write for (might add Horangi and Kruger to the roster)
Masterlist is pinned on my account as always
Please for the love of god leave me request, TELL ME WHAT YOU ALL WANT <3
Fic under the cut
Price
Whoever let his wife on base the day they were breaking in new recruit was so fucking dead. He bets it was Simon. Yeah, his wife always brought a home cooked meal for the team. Yeah, he always got smooches and got to feel her up at work. But he never expected this behavior from his sweet little wife when she knew how new recruit days were.
He bets it was Soap and Gaz, daring her to do it. They loved trying to get her in trouble, which is why he never allowed his kids to be watched by them. Lord knows how much trouble the two would encourage.
He heard it before he felt it. It echoed in the open field. Probably heard for miles.
She let out a squeak as he slowly turned to look at her, recruits had stopped the exercises they were doing and she bolted from the stand they were on watching.
“It wasn’t supposed to be that loud!” She squeaked, “Gaz and Soap told me to do it! They said you’d find it funny! That if I did it they wouldn’t beg me for baked goods ever again!”
As she jogged ahead to keep the distance between them as his long strides were closing the distance with ease.
“Simon has the kids, I should really go check on him! Your sons can be quite the handful! I think I hear him calling for me now, I should really go!” She squeaked out more, her jog quickly turning to a run as she took off through the base.
He quickly snatched her up.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to Kyle and Johnny.” John grumbled.
Soap
Stupid fucking booty shorts. Soap had found her stupid booty short in his laundry. He was now prancing around the shared apartment in them. They were so small on him she was surprised he could fit in them and knew he was in no way comfortable, he was however, a great actor. They were so short the bottoms of his spandex underwear were longer by like 2 inches.
“Johnny, take them off.”
“No,” he retorted proudly, “they were in my laundry so they’re mine now.”
That was the line she used to steal his undershirts so they could be used as nightgowns.
She grumbled, “fine,” before getting an idea.
He was making pancakes in the kitchen, breakfast for dinner Saturdays, as they both had started. His apron was even longer than the short, jeez. He continued shaking ass to whatever song was in his headphones as he hummed along to it.
“Target locked,” she mumbled to herself. Sneaking in.
The smack echoed. His ass was pulled so tight in them it basically slipped out to jiggle from the hit. He folded backwards in dramatics.
“I’m hit! I’m hit!” He cried as if he was radioing to his team. “Taking the enemy down with me, sir!”
She was laughing too hard to pay attention as his hand connected with her ass. The sweatpants muffled it but she fell to the ground too.
Ghost
She always pinched his ass. Especially if he was fresh from the gym. The first time had surprised him but after that he was pretty good at predicting it and catching her hand.
However, a full on smack at a pub celebrating with the boys? Oh that was new.
She was drunk, so he had expected something dumb from her. He was bound to do something dumb too. But he was going to wait until they got home and not when he was bent over the bar slightly to talk to the bartender over the loud music.
He thought he heard a record scratch as her hand connected with his butt. He turned around, throwing his card at Johnny. Letting him know to buy himself a drink and pay for their tab before pulling her out as she giggled.
He’d handle this at home.
But for now he planted a light pat pat on her butt and her eyes went wide.
“Haha sorry Simon, I’ve sobered up now! You can put me down!”
Konig
She had been hugging him from behind after his most recent return from a mission. He was stirring the soup she had started for herself, not expecting him to be home for another week or so.
“Meine Taube, can you go put my mask up.” He handed her his mask off his face, leaning down to give a peck on the lips, “I will give you the kiss you deserve when you return.”
She had pittered off down the hall a bit when she got an idea. Perhaps revenge for how he had surprised her when he got home.
She was listening to music loudly, swaying her hips and humming when he got home. It was dark out so she hadn’t noticed the car being his as it drove past, and she hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door unlocking either.
All she knew was a hand connected with her ass while another covered her mouth to muffle her scream, while she had been cooking. She was so scared it was an intruder.
So she began to seek out revenge. She slid on the hood and did her best quiet walk before getting behind Konig who thought she was back from putting up his mask.
SMACK.
It echoed down the hall as she bolted. His heavy steps followed with an all too large smirk on his face.
He found her hiding behind a giant laundry basket and pulled her out from behind it by her ankle. She clutched the mask to her chest with wide eyes, forgetting the size of her husband.
“There was this crazy noise, I think it was a gunshot! I had to duck for cover, I thought they had come for you!” She rambled as she pulled her down the hall by her ankle, her back to the floor and her shirt riding up. “I was so worried but that was a crazy noise! I wonder where it came from!”
“Uh-huh.”
Keegan
This man is 8 kinds of caked up. His girlfriend knows it and so does he. Its not like Gaz’s relationship where only the girlfriend does the ass smacking, in Keegan’s it goes both ways.
“Hey, lovey, can you reach the cinnamon for me?”
Little did this poor man know, this was a set up. The cinnamon never ends up that high up. So when he reached, a crack echoed through the apartment.
She fell over laughing so hard at the noise it made. She curled up laughing on the floor. She almost couldn’t breath as Keegan went over to the fridge and added a tally to her side of the mini white board.
“Damn, you’re three ahead of me this month! I'm impressed. You’re getting sneakier,” he said as she gasped she was laughing so hard. “Did you even need the cinnamon?”
She shook her head and he sighed.
“Ah hell. I gotta catch up now.”
It wasn’t until after dinner when he did, sneaking one in as she was washing plates. She almost dropped the one she had been scrubbing.
Gaz
Gaz wasn't one for grabbing or smacking people's behinds, but his girlfriend was a different story—she seemed to have made a sport out of it. Every time he bent over or even when he least expected it, she was there to strike.
Soap seemed to encourage this behavior.
It was a rare sight to see Simon giggle, but this was the only time it happened.
Even Price couldn't help but stifle a laugh every time Gaz looked shocked at his girlfriend's antics.
What Gaz never mentioned was that he didn't really mind it and had never asked her to stop. There was one time when she didn't do it, and he turned around looking genuinely concerned, asking if that was how she was breaking up with him. Feeling guilty, she had to continue the act because Gaz was in on it, though the others didn't know. They enjoyed making Simon laugh so much he had to bite his mask to muffle it.
When they were drunk, she and Soap even played a game to see if Gaz could figure out who did it. Sometimes, Gaz would turn around to see his girlfriend across the bar, completely confused.
The whole situation was a hilarious secret between them, with Gaz never letting on that he was actually into it. Gaz saw no reason to let the cat out of the bag. The amused glances and hidden smirks between him and his girlfriend were their little inside joke.
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holllandtrash · 11 months
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death of me | carlos sainz
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pairing: carlos sainz jr. x reader
in short, the three times you didn't tell carlos you loved him and the one time it was almost too late.
i actually had 2 requests with these prompts so this is those requests 1: “You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want” 11: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.” 94: “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”
Word count: 9.8k
warnings/tags: 18+ angst, fluff, plot with some smut, very light dom/sub blink and you miss it, this is a goddamn rollercoaster im sorry
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17 August 2023
You got the call and honestly, you thought it was a joke. Some horrible, practical joke that someone in your life had set up because they knew it would get to you.
Which is why you laughed when you heard the person on the other line say, “There’s been an accident.”
“Yeah, okay,” you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dried the bowl in your hand, finally getting to the stack of dishes you had been neglecting since this morning. “Who put you up to this?”
“No, this isn’t a joke, Miss,” the woman on the line said. “I’m calling from the Jiminez Diaz Hospital. There’s been an accident. Carlos Sainz Jr. was involved in a car accident. He’s-
You didn't hear the rest of whatever the nurse had to say. The ringing in your eyes drowned her out, along with the bowl slipping from your grasp and crashing onto the floor, pieces of blue ceramic shattered around your feet.
Frozen, you tried to listen to the calming voice on the other end of the line, the voice telling you that he was undergoing surgery. She couldn’t provide any more additional information, but she encouraged you, as his emergency contact, to come to the hospital as soon as you possibly could.
As you hurried to find your keys, your relationship with Carlos flashed before your eyes. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss, every fight, every word said and unsaid.
And god there were way too many words you hadn’t got the chance to say.
31 December 2022
Carlos grabbed hold of your waist and you giggled before slipping out of his hold, reaching for the bottle of champagne on top of the fridge. He tried to take it from you, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to successfully open it but you just aimed the cork in his direction and he backed off.
“That’s the third bottle,” Carlos told you, he wasn’t scolding, just casually pointing out that you were going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.
“And it’s about to be the twenty-third year,” you said. Which was technically incorrect, but Carlos admired your excitement too much to correct you. You pointed the bottle in the direction of the hallway and he braced himself for the cork to go flying. 
When you managed to pop it off without his help, the bubbly liquid came pouring out the side and you laughed as you held it up above Carlos’ face, instructing him to open his mouth. He listened, but your aim was horrible and the champagne spilled down the side of his chin.
“Here,” Carlos said, taking the bottle from you. You looked up at him and smiled, needing to take a second to focus on him and not on how the walls behind him were spinning. Carlos’ touch was soft as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip, opening your mouth enough for him to pour some of the champagne down your throat as well.
You were drunk, but you were still standing so you considered that a win. You just needed to last twelve more minutes till midnight and then you could collapse on the couch with him if you wanted. 
The two of you were supposed to go out to a house party that his friend was throwing. But then you walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk red dress that stopped at your thighs and your hair in perfect waves that looked ideal for Carlos to tangle his fingers through and he quickly decided that he didn’t want to share you going into the New Year. The only person he wanted to celebrate with was you.
So he grabbed one of the champagne bottles and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder as you squealed. He carried you back into the room you just walked out of and as much as he admired the dress on you, it looked so much better stained with champagne and crumpled on the floor.
You had only been together a few weeks, you were still in the honeymoon stage, which is part of the reason why you were more than happy to just stay at home with him tonight. You couldn’t get enough of him, and Carlos felt the same.
Carlos worshipped you. He had ever since the night you first met, which just so happened to be the first time you slept together.
He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a hookup after catching his eye at the club. You were supposed to go home the next morning, but how could you go home when he woke you up by leaving a trail of kisses down your naval and then across your thighs before he dove into your centre. He worked his tongue through your folds, not slowing until you were seeing stars. 
When you did finally cum, legs convulsing around him, Carlos licked up every drop of your juices and then his lips found their way back to yours. He told you he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and that was when you knew you were absolutely fucked. 
Carlos knew your body, he knew how to pleasure you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. It was the sexual drive and the lust between you that drove you to him in the first place, but you stayed for so much more.
You stayed because he memorised your coffee order after the first morning you spent together. You stayed because he listened to you talk about your family for, you timed it, three and a half hours because he wanted to hear all about the ties and the drama and the people that raised you. You stayed because Carlos treated every date like the first one, always looking for ways to impress you, to make you blush or smile.
So there were, four weeks later and ignoring his friends and the promise you made to celebrate New Years Eve with them, because let’s face it, Carlos much preferred having you on your knees in front of him than having to make small talk until the clock struck midnight. 
His fingers twisted through your hair as he released into your mouth and pulled out of you, but before you could swallow he kept your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin. Carlos grabbed the champagne bottle next to him and poured the bubbly liquid down your throat. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow was the instruction you were waiting for and you swallowed, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of champagne and him. 
You spent your evening tangled up in the sheets, you on top of him, him on top of you. When you left for a moment to go grab a second bottle of champagne, Carlos followed and hoisted you up on the counter, picking up right where you left off.
Now you were drunk. It was the champagne, yes, but it was also Carlos. He was intoxicating, he made you feel bubbly more than the drink itself did. He’s the one you couldn’t get enough of. With his shaggy, dark hair and even darker gaze, you pulled his face to yours and wiped the excess liquid from his chin. You sucked on the pad of your thumb, your lips pulling back into a devious smirk as Carlos groaned, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.
“Tú serás la muerte de mí,” You’ll be the death of me. 
“Good,” you whispered, inhaling a sharp breath when he attached his lips to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your already marked up skin. You could still feel the ghost of his fingertips from when he choked you earlier, something you both loved, but his mouth was also enough to leave you gasping for air. 
He knew you, he knew your body. He anticipated your reaction every time he touched you. And while you both thought you were taking a break to be able to catch the countdown, even having put on one of his shirts to keep his eyes from wandering, you were almost ready to drag him back to the bedroom because Carlos Sainz Jr. was also going to be the death of you.
But it was New Years Eve.
“Carlos,” you whimpered, pulling your fingers through his hair and giving him a sharp tug so he would lift his head. You hovered your lips over his, “We’ll miss the countdown.”
“I don’t care,” he chuckled, he nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips. You both still tasted like champagne and god you couldn’t get enough of it. Carlos smiled against your lips and pulled back when he felt you pout. “What, hermosa?”
“I like the countdown,” you admitted, the volume you spoke at dropping about ten levels as you stared up at him through your lashes. “It’s like we get to start a new chapter in our lives at midnight.”
His smile didn’t fade because he loved the way you looked at the world with such a pure lens. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. You expected him to kiss you again but he just pressed his lips to the top of your head.
“The only chapters I care about are the ones with you in it.”
You were drunk, but god did that line sober you up. 
You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through your system or if it was because your heart was beating too fast for your own good, but your lips parted with the intent of saying those three little words.
Because you knew then, at that moment, you loved him.
But Carlos kissed you and swallowed the words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue. You thought that maybe that was for the better. It had only been four weeks. A month. It was too soon to tell him you loved him, you’d scare him off. You didn’t need to start a new year with a traumatised boyfriend.
So you kept it to yourself and told yourself that there would come a better time to tell him how you felt because even though you were certain you loved the man standing before you, now was not the time to say it.
But when was the time?
16 Feb 2023
You opened up the top drawer of the dresser that sat across from Carlos’ bed, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could pull your clothes out from it.
“Don’t,” he said, demanded basically. “Don’t pack up your things.”
Ripping your arm from his grasp, you ignored his plea and grabbed the pile of clothes that had accumulated here over the last couple months. It started as a joke, leaving your clothes here, at his place, telling him that you needed an excuse to come over. 
And then one t-shirt turned into half of your closet being crammed in with his. Carlos didn’t complain once.
But you couldn’t live in this fantasy world you had created for yourselves any longer. Carlos was about to travel to Bahrain for the start of the season and then he’d head to Italy in between races and then Jeddah and then Australia and you’d be here. In Madrid.
“I’m not staying in your house while you’re travelling around the world racing,” you scoffed, hoping he could see how preposterous the idea was. He opened his mouth, giving you that same look he gave you every time he was about to bring up the idea of you travelling with him. You pointed a finger in his face, “And I’m not going with you.”
You couldn’t. You had a life here, a job here. You had no idea how other girlfriends and partners of these drivers were able to get up and leave their homes for a half of a week to support them, but you couldn’t do that.
Carlo yanked the clothes out of your hands and shoved them back into the drawer. You scowled at him, not like you were very intimidating but you tried to be. 
“Carlos,” you huffed out his name. “Let me pack, let me move out. This has been fun but-”
“But nothing,” Carlos cut you off and reached for your arm once more, pulling you towards him. You had been avoiding his eyes for the last hour and he knew something was up, something that went further than just taking your clothes home. “Talk to me, hermosa.”
Carlos didn’t just know your body, he knew you. Your mannerisms, your anxious fidgeting, your facial expressions. He knew your thoughts travelling through your head before you did, the two of you were so in sync it was terrifying.
So he physically felt the heavy exhale you finally let out, forcing all of the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders into the space between you.
“Why does this feel like a break up?” He asked, trailing his hand up your arm. His touch was soft and comforting and you wished it was enough to make everything better. It should have been enough.
And your next few words didn’t just hurt you, they sliced right through Carlos.
“Because I think it is a break up.”
Carlos let go of you to rub his hands over his face before tugging them through his hair. He backed up, putting a little bit more space between your bodies because as much as he wanted to hold you and tell you that you were making a mistake, he heard the certainty in your voice. The ‘I think’ was only added for his benefit. Your mind was made up. He knew it.
And you had seemingly known it for a while, too. You knew this moment was coming.
He walked out of the room when you turned your face, no longer trying to stop you from packing up your bags. He shut the door after him, refraining from slamming it because that’s not who Carlos was. He didn’t do things out of haste and anger, he wasn’t a reactive person.
No, Carlos sat in his thoughts and his feelings and he let them simmer. He thought about the last few months and wondered if it meant anything at all to you, because he thought it did. 
And now you were throwing it all away and because what? Because you didn’t want a partner who travelled for a living? You weren’t even trying to put the effort in, you were giving up before it got difficult. And who’s to say it would get difficult? Carlos’ home was still in Madrid, he would always come back to you and now you weren’t giving him the option to.
He could hear you packing from down the hall, a few drawers shutting, his closet opening and closing. This was wrong. And if it felt wrong to him he knew it must have felt wrong for you too, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 
When you walked out a while later, a duffle bag over your shoulder, a small suitcase behind you, you still avoided his eyes as much as you could because you didn’t want him to know you had been crying. You didn’t want him to know that this break up was destroying you, but was ultimately the right thing to do.
Carlos stood up and approached you, still keeping his emotions in check even though it broke him to see you so hurt, so hurt over your own choices. 
This could be avoided, he thought. This didn’t need to end.
You dropped the bag to the ground and inhaled a deep breath. You glanced at Carlos, but only momentarily as he stood in front of you. It was a lot easier to look at the buttons of his shirt or the rings on his hand or literally anything else because meeting his gaze was too hard. 
But this is why you had to leave.
You hated goodbyes and if you had to say goodbye to him every week, if you were going to be in different countries for most of the year, if you weren’t even going to be with him, then what was the point of this relationship?
You wanted to grow with your partner and you couldn’t do that if they were a Formula 1 driver. You couldn’t grow with Carlos.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a shake of your head. He could hear the way you choked to get those words out, fighting back even more tears. 
Carlos, knowing he didn’t have much a chance to convince you into staying, still lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and choosing to look past the way you winced as you leaned into his touch, as if already thinking about how this would be the last time you’d feel this sense of comfort.
“Don’t do this,” Carlos said, voice timid and lanced with desperation. “Please.”
“Carlos, please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”
“I love you.”
You froze. 
Even as Carlos rested his other palm against the side of your face and forced your attention on him, dipping his head as he repeated those words, you remained frozen. 
“I love you,” he spoke with so much confidence it scared you. “I love you and I don’t want this to be over. It can’t be over.”
It wasn’t that you couldn’t say those words back because you didn't reciprocate them, you couldn’t say it back because it would only make things harder. Up until now, neither of you had said you loved the other. And up until now, you were perfectly happy pushing what you felt for him down because the timing never felt right and now you knew why.
Deep down you always knew that you’d find yourself needing to walk away. 
He’d have an easier time letting you go if you told him you didn’t love him and while it would have been a lie, it was what he needed to hear. 
You stepped back and grabbed the duffle bag off the floor, his arms fell back to his sides.
“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t-” you turned to the door, letting your hair fall in front of your face, “I don’t love you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He wasn’t arrogant, but he was persistent. 
“Well it’s true,” you pulled the strap of the bag over your shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. If you just avoided his big brown eyes and the stare that had you hooked before either of you ever said a word, you could leave. You pulled open the door, only for him to press his palm against it and slam it shut again.
You felt his chest against your back as he stepped forward. Each breath he took was in sync with yours, because you two were always in sync, even at the worst of times.
“I don’t love you,” you repeated, raising your voice.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, then.”
You couldn’t. 
You couldn’t because the moment you turned around you would fall back into his arms. You’d let yourself get swept away by his promises and his affection and then he’d leave for a race and then another and another. You loved this bubble you created during the office season and you fell so hard so fast for Carlos, but it wasn’t meant to last.
“I’m leaving,” was all you could get, gripping the handle again and yanking the door open with such force that Carlos had no choice but to take a step back. He tried to reach for you, his fingers ghosted over yours, but there was nothing he could do to stop you.
You were gone.
June 4 2023
You kept up with the races throughout the beginning of the season. You still followed his account and all of the motorsport ones he was associated with. You didn’t dare like or comment on any of them, but you weren’t ready to let him go.
Telling Carlos you didn’t love him was the hardest thing you’d ever done.
And you didn’t let yourself look at him as you said it either, you didn’t take on any of the pain that he felt. You said the words, you broke his heart and then you left. 
Carlos didn’t try to reach out once, not like you expected him to. Even when he was home between races, which wasn’t often, you’d only hear about it from social media. 
But this was what you wanted, right? You wanted this life, you wanted to stay home. You didn’t want to keep chasing after a Formula 1 driver and be forced to follow him from country to country if you wanted to spend time with him. That wasn't healthy nor was it something you wanted to put yourself through.
Getting over him, however, was impossible. 
And you tried, really. You went out with your friends, you distracted yourself, you picked up hobby after hobby but good god your thoughts always travelled back to him. 
You fought with yourself. You kept asking yourself if you made a mistake by ending things. You kept wondering why you didn’t at least try. But then you’d see a photo of him getting into yet another plane and you knew you made the right choice. 
Your lifestyles were extremely different. Your personalities were compatible, yes, but the way you went about your day to day lives would never line up. At least not while he was racing.
You wouldn’t lie to yourself, though. You liked watching him race.
When you watched from home, your eyes were always on the number 55 Ferrari. You rooted for him, you winced at every near miss, you celebrated his finishes and without fail, you always looked at your phone and thought about congratulating him via text or even a call, only to instantly decide against it.
You weren’t even that big of a Formula 1 fan before you met him, but now this seemed to be as close to him as you’d ever get again.
It didn’t help that he looked good. 
Carlos pulled off those red racing overalls. And when they hung low around his hips and the fireproofs clung to his skin, god you wanted to scream at yourself for letting him go. You could have been there, at the races, if you just put a little more effort in. You could have been the one to rip the fireproofs off his body after he got out of the car, because let's face it, after some of the runs he’s had this season, you knew he was probably needing an outlet to release some of that pent up energy and frustration. 
You missed running your fingers through his hair. You missed the feeling of his lips tracing every inch of your skin. You missed waking up next to him and seeing your legs tangled together with the sheets. You missed that he was always looking for a reason to touch you, whether it be your wrist or your pinky finger or your back, his hand was always on you.
You missed Carlos.
You loved Carlos.
Which was why your judgement was a little clouded when your friend invited you to Barcelona the weekend of the grand prix, not to watch the race because god knew neither of you could afford tickets, but to visit the clubs she hoped the drivers would be at. 
She knew people who knew people and you didn’t ask questions, you just gripped her hand tightly as she led you towards the VIP section of the third club that night. The first one was a bust. The second one you spotted a few people associated with Formula 1, but the third nightclub was the jackpot.
It didn’t take long to spot Charles, celebrating getting a podium after a difficult qualifying session on Saturday. You never actually met Charles but you had heard lots about him, and from the look he gave you across the lounge, you had a feeling he had heard a lot about you too.
With a drink in his hand, he made his way towards you, nodding to himself when he realised that, yes, the girl in front of him was in fact his teammate's ex. 
“Does Carlos know you’re here?” Charles asked, dipping his face towards your ear to be heard over the obnoxious music. You shook your head, eyes darting all around him but the Spanish driver was nowhere in sight.
“Is he-” god why were you even asking? You didn’t have a right to. You broke up with him. “Is he here?”
Charles nodded again, standing up straight to look around the crowded room full of bodies dancing and mingling. A chuckle passed his lips as his eyes widened momentarily, “Looks like he’s a little busy though.”
You turned on your heels. It took a second for you to understand what Charles was talking about.
But then you saw it.
A girl, who very much resembled you, height wise and hair wise, had her arms wrapped around Carlos’ neck as she held their bodies together, letting the music flow through them as they danced together. 
You hated the way he was staring at her, like he was thinking about all of the ways he was going to devour her. 
And unlike Carlos, you did not let your feelings sit. You reacted to everything. Out of anger, spite, jealousy, you never took a second to think about your actions or the potential consequences before doing anything. 
So before you even processed how horrible of an idea this was, you walked across the club, the music fading into the background as you only heard a high pitched ringing in your ears. Carlos paid no attention to you, he had no idea you were even there until you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the waist of your lookalike. 
She scoffed at you and shot a quick glance towards Carlos, “Cuál es su problema?” What’s your problem?
“You,” You shot back, not giving her any chance of a rebuttal before you pulled Carlos away from her and the dance floor. He called your name, trying to get your attention as you navigated your way to the bathrooms. He was much stronger than you, so he could have pulled your hand off of him if he really wanted to, but he let you drag him into the single user washroom without much of a fight.
It wasn’t until you locked the door behind him and stood only inches apart did it sink in what you just did.
Your heart was racing as you stared up at Carlos. You took in his stern features, the way his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for an explanation, the way he crossed his arms over his chest. 
This was very reminiscent of the night you met, only when you met in the club you pulled him into the backseat of a car and he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he was purposely keeping the distance and he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.
He must have known you didn’t have any words because he cleared his throat and eyed you once over, “What the fuck was that?”
What the hell could you say? That was me pulling you off some stupid look alike because even though I broke up with you, I don’t want to see you with anyone else?
That would be the truth. The reasonable thing to respond with because after pulling him away from his date, you probably at least owed him some honesty.
But again, you were someone who reacted. 
“What?” You scoffed, arm flailing to the side. “You think you can come back to Spain for the first time in months and not say a single fucking thing to me? Weren’t you the one who said your home was in Madrid? People talk, Carlos, you haven’t been home since the day-”
“Since the day you left,” he interrupted, knowing damn well you were trying to say he hadn’t been back home since he left for the season even though you both knew there was a deeper reasoning as to why. 
Carlos shook his head. His usually loving stare was cold and intimidating, he wasn’t going to let you put the blame on him for anything that had occurred.
“I haven’t been back to Madrid since that day you walked out on me,” Carlos repeated himself, putting heavy emphasis on the reminder that you were the one that left him. “I hope you understand, but I haven’t really been in any sort of rush to go back.”
Why would he want to go back home knowing you wouldn’t be there when he returned? Why would he go back to the one place he knew you’d be, but would still inevitably be just out of his reach? So close yet so fucking far. 
He wasn’t going to put himself through that, through knowing you’d be in the same city but not being able to touch you. It was easier to find other places to stay between races.
And you did understand that. It may not have sunk in right away, but it made sense now. You couldn’t see it through the tv screen, you couldn’t get a read on him when you were watching him race from miles and miles away. But you saw it now.
Carlos hadn’t moved on either.
He took a breath as he leaned back against the door. You didn’t like the defensive stance he was relying on. With his arms over his chest all you wanted was to step forward and take his hands in yours. You hated the space between your bodies.
But you were broken up. You both had to accept that, as hard as it was, and that was your doing. 
Except you still didn’t want to see him with someone else.
“So who was she?” You asked, drifting the topic of conversation back to the girl from the dance floor.
“You don’t really have a right to ask.”
“It’s not a crime to be curious.”
Carlos clenched his jaw as he averted his gaze for a second. He rubbed his palm over his chin and shrugged, giving in to your question because he always did struggle to say no to you, “I don’t know, honestly. I met her ten minutes ago at the bar.”
“Sounds familiar,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to when you first met.
“We met on the dance floor,” Carlos pointed out.
“I was on the dance floor. You were at the bar.”
“We were both on the dance floor,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself the second time. 
His eyes dropped, taking in your outfit of choice for the first time since you’ve been in the enclosed space and when the corner of his lips curved upwards, just for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat just like it did the first night you met.
“You were wearing that same skirt too,” he said and you automatically looked down at the black leather skirt you currently had on. 
“Was not,” you scoffed, but to be fair, you had absolutely no idea what you had on that night.
Carlos chuckled, ignoring your childish rebuttal. “That skirt and a white top and I know it was white because I remember watching you spill your drink all over the front of it and you said-”
“I need an excuse to take it off anyway,” you finished for him, flashes of that night appeared in your mind. For so long, you only remembered how Carlos made you feel when you first met that none of the other details mattered.
But he remembered everything.
“You ordered gin and tonics all night,” Carlos continued, studying your face as your features softened with each additional memory. “Your friends tried to pull you away from me when we were on the dance floor and you didn’t let them. When I introduced myself, you had no idea who I was and when we finally stepped outside to leave the club, you looked at me with those big eyes of yours and you-” 
He stopped midway and inhaled a faint breath, you both did actually. His was due to reliving the night you first met and yours was due to the fact that Carlos stepped forward finally, raising his fingers to your chin to tilt your face upwards. 
You leaned into his touch, stepping forward yourself to trace your hand over the shirt he wore as he finished his final thought.
“You looked up at me and you told me I looked like someone you could fall in love with.”
Alarms went off. You wanted to run again. You didn’t want to have this conversation again. Once was enough. 
“I don’t- I don’t remember that,” you stammered out. 
“Because you were drinking gin and tonics all night,” Carlos said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “I also don’t even think you meant to say it, you changed the topic immediately afterwards.”
“You could just be making this shit up,” you pointed out, not wanting to accept the fact that you knew Carlos would be someone you would love since that first night. 
“I could be,” he nodded in agreement, fingers still holding onto your jaw. He stared at you the way he used to. With such adoration and desire. What used to be lust melted into something so much stronger and it hadn’t faded even if months passed. “But unlike you, I don’t lie.”
Your eyebrows pinched together, “When have I ever lied to you?” 
“The day you left,” there was another hit to the chest as you anticipated the rest of his sentence. “When you told me you didn’t love me.”
“That wasn’t a lie,” your words tasted like acid on your tongue. 
His hand fell from your face and he laughed. The sort of laugh that had your stomach turning in knots because there was nothing humorous about this situation you had now found yourselves in for the second time in four months.
“I know you,” Carlos said. “And I know there’s no possible way that I am the only one that feels so strongly it hurts. I know you love me because I feel it. I always have. In the way you touch me, in the way you run your hands through my hair, in the way you used to wake me up in the morning by kissing me until I finally opened my eyes. I know you love me because I see it in everything you do. In the way you look at me, the way your eyes always found mine if we were in a crowded room and I could see the breath of relief you’d take because as long as we saw each other, the world was calm. I saw it when you started leaving your clothes at my place, when you started going grocery shopping for us instead of just you and I saw how it broke you to walk out on me that day. It wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t love me.”
With your hand still gripping onto his shirt, your lower lip trembled as you tried to find something to say in response. Every single word that came out of his mouth was true. He knew you better than you knew yourself and he probably knew long before you did that you loved him.
You dropped your gaze, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt and the white button you played with under your thumb, “You know that phrase, if you love something, set it free?”
“And if it comes back, it's yours,” Carlos added on, stepping closer as he raised his hand to the side of your face, his fingers twisting through your hair. “I’m here, hermosa. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”
Now it was your turn to laugh. You forced yourself to, thinking that the humorous breath of air protruding from your lips might make the rest of this conversation easier. 
It didn’t.
“Carlos I can’t keep setting you free every time there’s a race,” you said, your voice timid. “I can’t. If I’m going to love you I’m going to do it with every bone in my body, with every fibre of my being and I can’t do that if you’re gone for eight months of the year. I need you in my life, with me, by my side, not on a tv screen, not all around the world.”
What you were asking for was selfish, you knew this. You knew that, essentially, you were putting Carlos in a position where he had to choose. He had to choose between you and racing and that wasn’t a fair spot for him to be in. You knew this.
Which is why you chose for him. 
Four months ago you chose for him, and you were doing it again now.
You briefly glanced up to meet his eyes, trying to move past the way you were melting at the feeling of his hands in your hair. 
“I shouldn’t have come to Barcelona, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, hands falling to your side. Without so much as a second look, you stepped past the driver and reached for the door handle. 
Carlos didn’t let you walk out on him this time.
He grabbed your wrist and spun you back around so fast that you didn’t have a second to breathe before his lips were on yours. Furiously and passionately like he was making up for all of these months without you. His tongue dove into your mouth as you slid your hand around the back of his neck, holding his face to yours because even though you knew this was a terrible idea, that you were broken up, there was no better feeling in the world than kissing Carlos Sainz Jr.
Neither of you were sure who started undressing first. It didn’t matter. Buttons went flying, your skirt got hiked up around your waist and when Carlos hoisted you up to place you on top of the sink, you had a momentary lapse of judgement and asked yourself why you broke up with him in the first place.
“I miss you,” Carlos muttered against your lips as you inhaled a sharp breath when he pushed your panties aside, the pads of his fingers traced over your folds. “I missed this.” 
“Carlos-”
“Missed how wet you got for me,” Carlos ignored whatever plea was about to fall from your lips as he pressed his mouth to the crook of your neck. 
You were putty in his hands, quite literally. There was nothing but quiet whimpers and strangled moans from you as he slid two fingers past your folds, both of you forgetting that your conversation ended with you trying to walk out on him.
His thumb traced over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to have you arching your back as you sat perched on the edge of the counter. You felt him smirk against your skin right when he picked up the pace of his digits, curling them against your walls, so deep inside you.
You dragged your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep his lips on that spot just below your ear as your head fell backward. Carlos kept you upright, he supported you, he knew how helpless you were during times like these and he lived for it. 
Four months ago you would have never thought that walking out on Carlos Sainz Jr. would lead you to being finger fucked by him in the bathroom of a Barcelona club. 
He lifted his head, replacing his lips on your throat with his free hand and forcing you to look at him. You recognised the lustful stare, only growing darker as he alternated between lightly tracing your most sensitive nub and pinching it between his forefinger and thumb until your legs quivered beneath you.
Carlos attached his mouth to yours, biting down and tugging on your lower lip, the sharp pain only added to the pleasure coursing through your body. He thrusted his fingers into you with such force it had you yanking on his dark hair so hard Carlos hissed through his teeth. 
“Cum for me,” Carlos’ groan was masked with a demand. One you had no possibility of ignoring as your body reacted to him and his words. With his fingers so deep inside you, Carlos worked you through your release, slowing but not stopping as you dropped your head to his shoulder, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.
When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, you weren’t surprised when he brought them up to his lips. There was a perfectly fine sink right in front of him but Carlos would never waste an opportunity to taste you. 
He then cupped your chin, his gaze softened but you could still make out the mischievous glint. This night wasn’t over.
“Let’s get out of here.”
That’s all it took. Those five little words. The one request and you had forgotten every logical decision that had led you up to this moment. He helped you off the counter, kissing you once more before you had to leave the privacy of the bathroom and before long you found yourself walking the same route as the first night you met.
Past the dance floor, sending your friend an assuring smile, silently telling her everything was fine. Carlos led the way at first, you kept a safe distance behind him and when you walked outside there was already a car waiting out front. You climbed into the backseat alongside him, ignoring the flashes from paparazzi and the call from them asking if Carlos was back together with his ex.
You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. From the ride to the elevator to the hallway until finally he dragged you into his hotel room, or maybe you dragged him once the door opened, you were both desperate for the other at this point.
It was hard to think rationally. In the back of your head you knew you’d have to leave in the morning before you found yourself clinging to him the way you used to, but you just wanted to enjoy the time you had now. You wanted to hold onto every beautiful sound that came from the back of his throat, each kiss he pressed to your skin, the sound of your name escaping his lips because no one would ever say your name that way he did. 
You loved him.
You loved the way he knew your body better than you did. How he had you desperate for a release in a matter of minutes, and only giving in when you begged for it. You loved the way he stretched you out, needing a second to inhale a quick breath as he slid his cock into you with little warning, deciding you were wet enough already after making you cum once in the bathroom and again on the edge of his bed with just his tongue.
You were used to his size, you had spent enough time in bed with him to know what to expect tonight but after four months your mouth still fell open and he swallowed all of your moans by pressing his lips to yours and taking all of your air out of your lungs.
Carlos wasn’t patient. Why would he be? After months without you he didn’t feel the need to wait. He found a steady pace but within minutes he had picked up his speed and hiked one of your legs up around his waist. 
That position turned into another which turned into a third and at one point during the night Carlos had you sit on top of him, staring at your own reflection in the mirror as you bounced on his cock, listening to his encouraging words and his praise while his fingers made for a beautiful necklace on your throat.
He cherished you, treating you like royalty on his sheets as you both carried the same thought, both of you knowing that you wouldn’t stay past the morning. As much as you wanted to forget that you broke up with him and as much as he wanted to pretend that you were still his, there was no denying your relationship was over. 
You loved each other, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the distance and the lost time during races and the anxiety of not being able to come home to each other at the end of the day. You loved each other, truly, but it was never enough.
Which was why when morning came, you climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb him after getting very minimal hours of sleep. You slid on the clothes you had discarded all over his room and decided that leaving without a second look would be easiest.
You had just cracked the door open when Carlos stirred in the blankets behind you. You had no choice but to turn around, to look at what you were walking away from for the second time.
He sat up in bed, the sheets draped over his lower half and his hair unruly and sexy and almost enough to make you crawl right back in next to him. 
He saw that you had redressed yourself, made yourself as presentable as you could wearing the clothes from last night. He didn’t have to ask where you were going, he just nodded to himself and let out a breath of acceptance.
You were never going to stay.
“I’m sorry,” you said, but those two little words were not the words he was hoping to hear during his short time with you. 
“No you’re not,” Carlos shook his head. He looked away from you for a second, his tongue poking out to moisten his lips. He was asking himself if last night was a mistake. It probably was.
“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want.”
“I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for both of us, Carlos.” You sighed, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door. “I can’t live the life you want me to live and I’m not going to ask you to give anything up for me. We’re at a crossroad here.”
Carlos dragged his line of sight back towards you, “Even though I love you? That doesn’t make any difference?”
It makes things harder. 
You shook your head, repeating that you were sorry one more time and letting the last image of Carlos be of him dropping his head back down to the pillow before you turned around and walked out of his life once again.
August 17 2023
You practically ran to the receptionist, slamming your hands against the desk, “Carlos Sainz Jr., is he- is he here? What room is he in? Is he okay? God please tell me he’s okay-”
“Ma’am, I need you to take a breath,” the nurse was calm, she had been through this hundreds of times. Dealing with the frantic loved ones of a patient. She stood up, hand outstretched to rest over yours as she pushed the box of tissues closer to you. You grabbed one and dabbed the corner of your eyes, having been imagining the worst the entire drive over and unable to stop crying.
You didn’t even have time to question why you were still his emergency contact. You had no idea how your name and number came up in the conversation and it pained you to think that when the paramedics brought him to the hospital, the only phone number he could think to mutter was yours.
“Is he okay?” You repeated after a deep inhale. “I need to know he’s okay. The lady on the phone earlier wouldn’t tell me anything, she just said there was an accident.”
“Carlos Sainz?” The nurse asked, looking at her screen as she sat back on down. She typed on the keyboard, muttering a few things to herself until his file popped up. “He’s undergoing surgery right now, should be done soon though.”
“Surgery for what?” You asked, desperate to get information. “Is he going to be okay? He’s a racecar driver, can he still drive? Is it life threatening-”
The nurse seemed to crack a smile, “I’m familiar with his occupation, Miss. Unfortunately I am not able to give you any more information on his condition.”
You couldn’t tell if the whole confidentiality act was because of his fame or because she really had no idea how he was doing. Regardless, the not knowing stressed you out beyond relief and you tried for a few more minutes, pestering for answers, until finally she told you that the only option for you was to sit and wait.
So you did. Foot tapping against the tiled floor. You thought about calling his parents or his sister but last you saw from social media, his sister was somewhere in Greece and you had absolutely no way of contacting his parents as you weren’t with Carlos long enough to get their contact information. 
It was just you in the hospital waiting room, nervously watching the minute hand on the clock go around way too damn slow. Every time a doctor or another nurse entered the room, your heart dropped in anticipation, but none of them were there to keep you informed.
Twenty minutes went by with no news, and in hindsight, that really wasn’t that long of a waiting period. But it felt like an eternity, not knowing. Left drawing your own conclusions, your own terrible scenarios. 
When a doctor did finally emerge from the swinging doors, he stared down at his clipboard before approaching the nurse behind the reception desk. You watched them interact, of course you did, you needed to know if he was Carlos’ doctor.
When he walked over to you, a tight smile on his lips, you stood up instantly.
“You must be here for Carlos,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake with not nearly enough strength you wished you had. “I’m Dr. Alejo.”
“Hi,” You tried to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm but you wouldn’t understand anything anyway. “Is he-”
Dr. Alejo nodded and you felt as though you could breathe when his smile grew even just the slightest bit. 
“He’s fine,” He assured you. “A few broken ribs that will heal on their own, a fracture of his left wrist that required surgery and some severe bruising along his abdomen, but no internal bleeding to be concerned about. He’s okay.” Dr. Alejo scratched his jaw, “Might not be able to finish the season, but I think he’s just happy to be able to walk away from this accident.”
He nodded his head towards the doors that separated the patients from the waiting room, leading you through them and down the hall as he flipped through the papers on the clipboard. 
“It was a car accident?” You asked. “How? What even happened?” It was hard to believe that a professional racing driver would get into something so mundane as a car accident. During the break of the Formula 1 season.
“I believe the other driver was distracted,” Dr. Alejo answered. “I don’t have much more information than that as he wasn’t my patient, but he’s also okay. I think still in surgery, but both drivers are extremely fortunate in this scenario.”
He stopped in front of a room where the door was slightly ajar. Carlos’ name was written on the board outside of it and you asked for permission before going inside. The doctor nodded and allowed you in by yourself, instructing you to be gentle as he had just come from surgery.
You walked in, not prepared for the sight of Carlos on the bed with IV tubes sticking out of his wrist. His entire rib cage and abdomen was bandaged up and you could see hints of bruising on his legs and arms, aside from where the cast on his left wrist was covering them. There were minor marks on his face as well, cuts from the broken windshield, more bruising, everything that made you ache for him.
His eyes were closed so he didn’t see you slowly make your way to his bedside, sitting on the side that seemed to have less injury. You scanned over him, taking in the damages to his body and you didn’t think twice before raising your hand to brush a few strands of hair off his forehead. 
You hadn’t seen him in a few months, not since you left his hotel room. 
Part of you expected that you’d run into each again, you’d always been drawn to Carlos, but you never would have imagined this. 
You didn’t even know he was home.
Hesitantly, you took his hand in yours, thumb tracing over the few inches of skin that weren’t littered with dark bruises. You felt his fingers twitch in your grasp and you glanced up in time to see his eyelids flutter open.
“Hi,” you whispered, expecting to have to explain yourself. Carlos most definitely did not expect to get into any sort of accident today, let alone see his ex-girlfriend who walked out on him twice. Obviously there was some explaining to do.
But he only turned his palm upwards to interlock your fingers together, careful of the IV tubing. He tried to shift on the bed, only to grimace in pain and you inhaled a breath, worried for him.
“Just-” you swallowed, fighting the urge to put your hand to his chest like you would normally do if you just wanted him to sit. “Just take it easy, okay?”
Carlos nodded, glancing down at your hands and then at the cast on his wrist and then sighing with deep despair as he took in the bandages wrapped around his body. 
“Not like I had a shot at the championship anyway,” he joked, already thinking about the last half of the season. 
You didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about him sitting in a hospital bed was funny, but it was no surprise he was thinking about Formula 1. He was a driver, racing was in his blood. 
So you just cracked a hint of a smile and tried to change the topic to something else, something more pressing.
“I didn’t know you were back in Madrid.”
Carlos paused, “I just got in today.”
Your brows pinched together, “What do you mean? Didn’t your break start two weeks ago?”
“I was in Italy, for a bit,” he told you, his thumb brushing over yours. “But I didn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to come home. All I wanted was to see you.”
Your heart sank deep into your chest, “Don’t tell me you got into a car accident when you were on the way to my place.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
“Carlos,” You wanted to scold him, really. You had broken up, he didn’t need to come see you. If he had just stayed in Italy, if he hadn’t decided he needed to see you, he’d be fine and not laying with limited motion in a hospital bed. You were the reason he ended up here.
He always said you’d be the death of him.
“I love you,” Carlos said, sounding more sure of his own words than he ever had before. “I love you, and I don’t care if you walk out on me every time I say it because I’m just going to follow you. I made a mistake the first time, letting you leave. I made it again in Barcelona and I’m not doing that anymore, I’m not going anywhere, hermosa and if I do, I’ll always come home to you.” 
You had thought you were all cried out, having tears stream down your face the entire drive to the hospital as you thought about your relationship with Carlos. The good, the bad, everything in between. You cried thinking you’d never get a chance to create another memory with him. You were distraught, wanting to scream into the abyss because even if you weren’t with Carlos, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.
You loved him.
You always had. You always will.
And you weren’t going to go another second with him thinking his feelings weren’t reciprocated. 
A single tear fell down your cheek as you locked eyes with him, the only person in your life you would ever give your heart to and know, without doubt, that he would give his back in return.
“I love you,” you finally told him, the biggest weight lifted off your chest, one that had been dragging you down for months. “I love you, Carlos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did. I'm sorry it took this for me to tell you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you-”
You moved closer to him, dropping your head to rest against his after you kissed his temple, quietly repeating that you loved him over and over again. You placed your hand against his cheek, holding Carlos against you and he covered your hand with his, not wanting to let go.
He’d let you go one two many times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
And you wouldn’t give him a reason to. 
2K notes · View notes
tieronecrush · 5 months
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so much wine
joel miller x reader
summary: christmas is difficult for joel, with and without you.
rating: M
wc: 2.8k
warnings: no outbreak, angst MAJORLY, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, acts of mild violence (NOT towards reader or any other person, it is toward an inanimate object), joel hating christmas, grief, anger, depression, big big feelings, mention of break up, sad joel, angry joel, resentful joel, reader trying to make christmas nice, um i may be forgetting some so if you notice any big ones lmk!
a/n: ya girl is always on her angst grind. ESPECIALLY around christmas cause....issues. hope you all find the means to enjoy this lil one shot based on one of the saddest but still incredibly beautiful christmas songs. here's the link to the song! tysm to @northernbluess & @kiwisbell for beta-ing and encouraging me to post this. love you both xx
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“Tommy?”
“Hey, m’so sorry to be callin’ ya on Christmas Eve. I know…Well, I know this is probably the last thing ya wanna be hearin’ but I really need your help. It’s Joel…” The noise level on the other side increases with a gust of rowdiness, clueing you in that he must be at a bar. You press the phone tighter against your ear, listening to Tommy ramble off reasonings for your help interwoven with profuse apologies. Guilt hangs heavy inside of you, the soft music and glasses clinking in the other room a reminder of your own Christmas Eve plans. How it’s supposed to go every year. Peaceful, light, fun, full of love. Your holiday with Joel looked different. Full of love, yes, but overwhelming, stifling with grief.
“I’ll be right over, Tommy.” You can’t turn away, you can’t hang up and go back to your life tonight. Not with knowing how much pain Joel’s in.
The tree lights up as you stick the plug in the socket, your nightly task for the last month just as the sun sets. Clear, warm bulbs illuminate the otherwise dark living room, shining out to the street as a beacon of a lived-in home. Reflections of warmth bounce off of the shiny glass ornaments littered around the branches, heirlooms from your family, and some you’ve collected yourself. Combined with ones from Joel’s past. It’s not cohesive, but it’s a beautiful smattering of your lives. Pine wafts from the sappy center of the tree, filling the room with the scent of evergreen, tinged with the stuffy warmth from the central heat.
You’d decorated the tree on your own a few weeks ago. Joel helped you pick up the tree from the sale lot in the H.E.B. car park, strapping it down in the bed of his pickup. More than willing to help you get it inside, into the basin, and secure it tightly to avoid any accidents. But that’s when his assistance stopped. No humming along to the Christmas CDs you queued, no suggestions of festive movies to watch, no sneaking some Bailey’s into the mugs of decaf coffee you brewed to keep warm. Instead, he retreated up to your bedroom, shutting the door behind him and effectively shutting you out for the evening.
Tommy’s truck pulls into the driveway, dropping off Joel for the holiday after last-minute projects were tied off. Joel had mentioned grabbing a drink with Tommy, to celebrate another year gone by with their new business venture, Miller Construction. You didn’t think anything of it, wishing him a good day that morning and sending him off while you prepped dinner and baked cookies to bring over to your parent’s house tomorrow.
As you sit down on the couch, Joel fumbles at the door with his keys, finally getting them jammed in and the lock turned. He stumbles inside, tripping over his own feet despite his eyes being trained on them, grumbling to himself as he frustratingly kicks off his boots. You stand up to greet him, a warm smile on your face faltering when he looks back at you with a scowl.
“Need a drink…” he slurs, avoiding you completely in the middle of the living room, frown lit up by the tree. Joel treks to the kitchen, straight for the whiskey bottle that he takes a long pull from before filling a glass halfway. The amber liquid sloshes as he turns to look at you, holding out the crystal tumbler.
“You want some, baby? S’Christmas Eve! Everybody thinks it’s something to celebrate, right?”
It never snows in Austin, but driving down the highway with your windows down, it smells like winter. Crisp, cool air rubbing your cheeks raw, running your nose. Thin air, fresh. A medicinal feeling, like inhaling the menthols you used to smoke. It’s freezing, but you can’t bring yourself to roll up the windows, to close yourself into your car as you cruise on the open roads. Everyone’s tucked away at home, with family or friends, while you drive towards something as familiar, but much more grisly.
Christmas carols crack over the stereo, painting visions of picture-perfect holidays, the feelings of joy, love, belonging, and warmth that you’ve craved for him since you met him. Something you so desperately wanted to drip back into his life from your hand, dribbling water to a lightless soul.
The glass is empty now, bottle as hollow as Joel’s eyes look. He stands in front of the tree, studying the decorations with a freshly opened bottle of wine in his grip, one you were meant to bring to your parents tomorrow. His brows haven’t relaxed, not one stitch unsewn since he walked in the door. Mumbles of anger have rolled from his chest, never directed toward you, but aimed at the world around him. At the holiday. At the lack of presents addressed to his daughter under the tree, the missing duties of playing Santa.
You met Joel after Sarah passed. He spoke about her often, telling you all about his little girl who was funny, bright, bubbly, better than him in every way. She’s been gone for a handful of years now, the tragedy worn on Joel’s face and in his curls; aged and grayed. He was still so handsome, still held a smile for you despite the deep, open aches he feels the pains of every day.
Never having a holiday with him, you didn’t know that this is ‘just how he is’. Tommy had heeded some warnings to you, had called you in a whisper as he pulled away from the house that evening with apologies — ‘I tried to cut him off, but when I left for a minute to go to the bathroom, he’d gotten the bartender to pour him another double…I tried to take it, but he wouldn’t…’
You expected feelings these days, this month, the whole season. How could a father not miss his only child when the rest of everyone’s happiness, luck, blessings are thrown back in his face? But this…this was a different Joel. Someone angry, someone cursing his own existence. He fumbled around the living room, shoving the coffee table when he bumped into it, picking tinsel off the tree and tossing it to the ground.
At the time, it seemed like a good idea to intervene. To attempt to talk him into bed, or at least into eating something and laying down on the couch. Other issues to address in the morning when he was sober.
Now, you know that was a mistake.
“What do you want from me? What does my brother want from me? Am I just supposed to get over it so everyone can have their merry little Christmas?” His voice strings words together, his drawl thicker with inebriation. Wine splatters across the kitchen tile, Joel’s arms swinging around as he speaks with his hands.
“No one is ever asking or expecting you to get over it, Joel. We just—I don’t want you to be like…to feel like this. Sarah wouldn’t want you to—”
He doesn’t raise his voice. Joel never raises his voice. The calm chill of his voice sends a wash of anxiety over your entire body, words punching clear now despite his physical state.
“Enough. Don’t even say that 'cause you wouldn’t fucking know.”
The freezing air fills your lungs, choking out as it stifles your inhale. Strong heaves of breaths expand your lungs before they squeeze out with sharp exhales, the coughing fit morphing into sobs. Tears blur your vision, flowing over your waterline and burning hot against your cheeks. Carving trails across your face with iron branding. Find the same paths of all their predecessors, all that came before them for the very same reasons.
You manage to pull off to the side of the road to compose yourself, parking near enough to your exit. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you open the door and tumble out, talking yourself down from hysterics. Wading through the thick emotions, the unresolved slashings of anger and frustration, the unanswered love.
Facing the midnight sky, twinkling spots stare back at you, reminding you of your size in the world. How large everything feels, how all-consuming. How it doesn’t seem to be felt all the same by the one person you want it from. Need it from.
Struck with a flash of a star falling against the black backdrop, there’s a brief moment when you think it’s Santa Claus. In his sleigh pulled by reindeer, riding around to deliver joy to families across the world. Another reminder of how small you feel. How much like a kid you feel. Unsure of where you stand in his life, uncertainty facing your future, undecided in what is the right thing to do.
The sky kaleidoscopes in your watery eyes, small shining bursts gazing back at you. And your first thought is how similar they look to Joel’s eyes that night. Sad, glossy, shimmering with anger that sat long enough to finally introduce itself as grief.
You stayed out of the way after that. Let him drink himself into a hole. Dinner is left untouched until the later evening when you wrap it all up and store it away in the fridge. Noting another bottle of wine gone from the cabinet.
Joel’s corralled upstairs with less persuasion the drunker he’s gotten, craving the comfort of your shared bed the closer he gets to passing out. He trips over his feet while you walk behind him, a hand pressing into his lower back to direct him. Hiccups shake his body. Teeth stained red. Life sucked from the day, no more chances at honoring memories, no more magic left to make something special for Joel. Nothing that can sprinkle some goodness into his life.
He’s got an iron grip on his resentment, on his rage. Understandably.
But that grip drops his hand from his happiness, from his comfort, from his remembrance. It all slips through his fingers now, grains of sand falling through the lines in his palms, the ridges of his fingerprints. What was so ingrained in him, years ago with his daughter, days ago with you, is easily forgotten as the monster of misery uses your kindhearted man as a vessel. Rendering him unrecognizable.
Taking in his sleeping form, fully clothed and half covered with a quilt. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, his coping catching up with him to finally receive the desired effect — feeling nothing. Turning his brain off completely, emptying him to float in a void for at least one night.
His lips parted with slow, even breaths. Brows relax, falling back to lift his eyes, despite them being closed. Delicate eyelashes lay against his cheeks, and you watch as a smattering of exhausted tears slip from the corners of his shut eyes. No more stubborn will to hold them back. The first real emotion you’ve witnessed all evening.
It’s another moment before you turn away, filling the empty glass at his bedside with water from the bathroom tap. Avoiding his soft sleeping form and your empty side of the mattress, you pack a small bag to retreat to your parent's house, a short note left for Joel in the morning inviting him over when he’s feeling up for it.
One last glance at him drives an ice pick into your heart, warm blood pooling around your feet matching the shade of red on his lips. It feels cruel, to pack up and leave for the night, but without knowing if this charade continues through the next day, you don’t quite feel like sticking around to find out.
The bar is busier than you would have thought, with a good amount of groups growing rowdy for the holiday. You imagine they are there drinking in camaraderie, in celebration. The opposite to your Joel. He’s slumped over the bar in his green flannel, hugging his broad frame that shields him from the joy raucous of the room.
Tommy stands next to him, hand on his shoulder in an attempt to draw him away from the wooden bartop, to get him away from the stool and the glass filled with amber liquid.
When the bartender greets you while you approach, Tommy turns toward you, sighing and shaking his head as he leans into his older brother to mumbling loud enough for your to overhear as you settle behind Joel’s seat, “M’sorry I had to do this, Joel, but you’ve got to get home…”
Joel grumbles, shrugging off his brother’s hand. When he’s turned to address his brother with a protest, he catches you in the periphery, reacting with a molasses-like double take. Angling in your direction from his perch on the worn leather barstool, his eyes widen in shock, and he swallows hard. The drink in his hand is left discarded on the bar top, Tommy signaling for the bartender to come by and grab it while Joel stands dumbfounded by the presence of you.
“Sweetheart…”
The name is a punch in the gut, recalling every other time it raised goosebumps in its wake while it was whispered against your skin, each time it was tacked onto a gentle tease, each time it was spoken in place of feelings he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, communicate to you.
Recovering quickly, you right yourself internally, rising tall and holding your shoulders back while tender kindness masks your anguish. A head shake draws up a watery expression despite your efforts, your smile plastering onto your expression. Joel frowns, seeing straight through the guise.
“C’mon, Joel. Let’s get you home, yeah?”
Both of you stare at the hand of yours laid on his bicep, radiating heat from the contact that starts to melt the ice that froze your feelings for him in place those months ago. Joel is the first to look away, the burn of his saucer eyes drilling into your profile.
“No. No, I don’t need to—” he argues, always a mule.
“Joel,” you interrupt, voice thickened with sentiment, “please. I wanna go home. Let’s go home.”
The statement isn’t a lie. The furthest thing from an untruth.
It’s exactly what you have been wanting to say to him for months, feeling untethered and lost. You’ve been aimlessly searching for that same solace elsewhere. In other places, in other people. Nothing could compare. Joel is home. And all you want to do is return, to feel safe and warm and welcomed at home. To feel as if there is room for you there, that you aren’t driven out by the torment that tortures Joel, and in turn, you.
That’s what gets him to agree. The promise of home, with you there with him. The same piece he’s felt missing, the second heart of his home stripped from him because of his unwillingness to let up his grip on his anger and resentment. Because of his resistance to cradle his comfort, his contentment, his love for you.
“You wanna go home?” A nod answers him, rolling his actions into motion, “Okay, okay. M’gon—gonna take you home, baby. We can…I can give you your gift.”
“Sure, honey. We can do that in the morning,” you counter, the corners of your mouth turning up for a split second when Joel agrees.
His large form falls from the stool and into his brother when he attempts to get up. It’s a dance between the three of you to get him into your car and to his place. Tommy follows, there to drag him up the stairs with you behind, a hand on Joel’s lower back. He preens into every touch from you, glancing over his shoulder to check that you’re still there. That you haven’t left again. You can’t help but notice the living room illuminated by a Christmas tree, the smell of pine filling the house and the delicate glass ornaments placed carefully around the tree. He tried this year.
You do stay. This time you’re sitting with it all, ready for the confrontation of the next day. With Tommy gone, you and Joel are left alone with each other for the first time in months. In your old bedroom of all places.
Joel sits at the edge of the bed, head hanging in shame while you kneel in front of him, tentatively laying a hand on his knee.
If this time is going to be different, you need a reason to stay. A single brick taken out of his walls, the signal of the start of a wreckage that you will happily clear so long as you can have your Joel feel like a semblance of himself again.
“You’re always gonna see the bottom of your glass, Joel. Nothing can save you from that, not even all the drink in the world. It’s all still going to be there. You have to decide to face it.”
It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds filling the room are your slow breaths in sync with each other’s. Joel picks his head up, angling it to look down at you directly. Tears have carved channels into his face, fight leaving his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak in a rasped whisper.
“Sarah always loved Christmas...”
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allocnddits · 3 months
Note
Can I request protective Oscar which leads to her thinking he’s super hot like that and then that leads to smut please?
here it is, sorry for the wait babes
it was the little things
the way he never let you walk on the outside of the side walk
the way he would rest his hands on the curve of your back, right above your ass, anytime you were in a room full of people or a crowd you had to walk through
But that night specially it was all too hot. Lando had convinced your boyfriend to go clubbing with him after their podium. In reality all he wanted to do was go back to his hotel and maybe have the laziest, most intimate love making session with you. But you encouraged him to go out, it was his first podium in formula one and you felt full with pride, he had to celebrate it the right way.
So after the race you went back to the hotel and got ready to go out. Oscar looked unbelievably hot, it was the most boring outfit you could think of, for sure, but your boyfriend pulled it off perfectly. The black tshirt so tight on his arm, same with his jeans, they weren’t even supposed to be skinny but his thighs had gotten thicker and looked like they were about to burst out of those pants. The watch around his wrist, the chain you had gifted him at the beginning of the season adorning his neck and his cologne, god, that fucking cologne was intoxicating.
He was thrown on the bed, open like a starfish as he waited for you to get ready. You came out of the bathroom with a more casual than not outfit. Black mini skirt, white top and black boots, the star of the show being a vintage Mclaren jacket that Oscar would probably have to hold all night.
“Ready?” you asked as he sat up on the edge of the bed, groaning. “Come on, baby, it’s your first f1 podium, you can’t just stay in and do nothing.” you explained, combing your nails through his hair, trying to get it to sit right.
“I wasn’t gonna do nothing, i was gonna do you” he hugged your waist, cheek pressed to your stomach.
“You can do me every day, but tonight i already promised Lando we would be there.” your boyfriend dropped his head in defeat, knowing damn well that the next morning his teammate won’t even know if he was there or not.
None of you were very fond of clubbing, not really knowing what to do. You danced for a bit as oscar talked to his coworkers that were there. The way you swayed your hips pulling different pairs of eyes to watch you. It was Lando that noticed and told him that you were causing a scene. He called you over with a motion of his finger, you obeyed blindly, walking over to him.
“Everything alright, baby?” you asked as he hugged you tightly to his side, the hand that held your jacket moving to discreetly cover some of your ass.
“Yep, perfect” he nodded, taking a sip of his beer before starting to talk to his teammate again. you couldn’t help but stare every time he took the glass bottle to his lips, the way they puckered up against the brim and how his arm flexed when he lifted it. “Want some?” he asked when he realized you were staring.
You nodded, holding your hand out for the bottle but it never met you, instead he took it straight to your lips tipping it so the liquid met your tongue. You drank it till he pulled away, trying not to make a mess but some of it dribbled down your chin anyway. He looked down at you swiping his thumb on the spilt alcohol and kissing you. He was putting on a show for everyone to see. Lando downed the drink the had in his hands with a chuckle before excusing himself to get another one. The second his colleague walked behind you he stretched his arm out, pulling him by the arm.
“Don’t you look, either” he threw his hands up in irony and Oscar started basically burning up, his hand lowering so the jacket would cover more of your legs.
“Don’t be mean” you told him as you threw your arms over his shoulder, his rested on your hips, hands holding your jacket and his beer, too busy to roam around your ass.
“I’m not. It’s just that, everyone was staring. I swear i saw a pit guy look you up and down, he must know who you are, right?”
“Oscar, even though this is extremely amusing and hot, you have to let it go, it’s alright.”
“Hot?” he teased
“Well, yeah, being all manly and jealous and possessive. It’s kinda hot.” you explained before starting to kiss on his neck, each mole of his receiving a peck. “Can we go back to the hotel?”
“Yes, please. Just gotta say bye, c’mon” he pulled you through the small crowd till you met Lando and some other coworkers of his. You two said your goodbyes and walked out of the place, waiting for his car. You got in so quickly after he opened the door for you, waiting impatiently to get back to your room.
His hand was on your thigh the entire ride, getting higher and higher, your skirt doing very little to stop it. You couldn’t take your eyes off his hand gripping tight on the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched making it look sharper. The anticipation was killing you but luckily you were finally in front of the hotel. Oscar rushed out of the car to open the door for you and get you out of the car and into the lobby. Because of the late hour the elevator got to you quickly and you stumbled in, his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close.
As soon as the elevator doors closed you pulled him in by the colar of his shirt your arms wrapped around his neck, hands hanging loosely behind him as he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He was fighting the urge to not grind his hips against you just yet but it was hard when you started kissing down his neck and running your nails on his scalp.
“Oscar” you called “Oscar, we’re here” you pushed him off of you, taking him by the hand and walking to your room. You reached into his back pocket to grab the keycard and open the door, immediately kicking it shut and making him sit on the couch.
You got on your knees immediately, taking off your shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. You could see his outline in them as he lifted his hips to help you. Your lips connected to his thigh, kissing all the way up to the wet patch on his underwear, his dick growing even harder inside it.
“Don’t fucking tease, get to it” he rushed you, hand running through your hair.
Your fingers made their way to his waistband, pulling it under his dick. You watched as it basically bounced against his stomach before kissing the tip. As you looked up you saw that he was getting impatient so you spit down on the head, watching it drip down the side of his length before spreading it around him with your palm. He was watching you, following your moves closely, anticipating but the moment you took his tip into your mouth he threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly.
Oscar’s hand gripped tighter, the other one collecting the rest of your hair, pulling it into a ponytail. As he recovered himself from the first contact with your mouth he lifted his head up, admiring the way your mouth stretched around him.
“Fuck my mouth, baby, please” you asked with him in your hand, leaving your mouth open for him.
He fixed the hand on your head and pushed you down slightly on his dick till your nose gif the hairs on his groin. His hand held you there for a while before pulling off completely. You were already a mess, lips red and plump covered in saliva, small strands of your hair stuck to your face and you had been sitting on your ankles, grinding against them to get the slightest feeling of relief.
Oscar kicked your knees apart, placing his leg between them, he immediately pressed it up onto you. You let out a groan but it was cut short by the way your boyfriend shoved your mouth down on his cock.
“Fuck, baby, so perfect, your mouth is. Always feels so good” he praised as he aggressively pulled your head up and down his dick.
His thrusts had gotten more aggressive making you gag around him but you were so satisfied. After the little show he putt on earlier all you wanted was to be manhandled and it was exactly what he was giving you. You had started bouncing in his foot shamelessly and he was loving the view, your tits bouncing slightly and tears now falling from the corner of your eyes.
“‘M close, love, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?”
He pulled you away, making you keep only his tip in your mouth, you sucked the hardest, tongue sliding against his slit repeatedly till he spilt in your mouth. Oscar groaned, throwing his head back as you sucked every last bit of cum out of him before it was all too much and he pulled you off him.
“That’s a way to celebrate a podium” you said before dropping your head to his thigh, completely used up.
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ozzgin · 5 months
Note
Do you only write Hannibal lecter or do you also write for NBC Hannibal?
Yandere! Hannibal x Reader: The Grand Meal
Gather around for a short story in the spirit of Thanksgiving. You have been invited by Hannibal Lecter to a celebratory dinner, although unexpectedly barren of other guests. He will be entertaining you this evening, carefully describing each dish as he battles his own inner turmoil. (For extra immersion, I suggest listening to Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze')
Warning: Cannibalism and detailed gore. I'd advise against reading if you're squeamish. 
[Horror Masterlist]
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He politely aids you in removing your coat, folds it over his forearm, and steps aside, expectantly. You glance at him, somewhat confused.
"Your bag, if I may."
"Oh, I...I was planning to bring it with me. I have my phone in it and all the essentials." you stutter, unsure.
Uh huh. Your etiquette seems to be lacking in certain areas. Nothing that cannot be chiseled. 
"You won't be needing it, I assure you." he extends his hand out, waiting. 
You hesitantly place the dark leather Pochette into his fingers. Hannibal has always been rather particular when it comes to decorum. You wouldn't want to upset him, especially given his generous invite to his Thanksgiving celebration. He'd heard your complaint of being alone during the holidays and he encouraged you to join him instead.
As you hurry behind him down the spacious hallway, you quietly marvel at the expensive, tasteful paintings sporadically adorning the walls. 
"I suspected they might be to your liking." He briefly peeks back at you with a faint smile on his lips. 
The heavy wooden doors creak open and your nostrils are quickly overwhelmed by the tempting smell of intricate dishes. You narrow your eyes, taking in the flavors. Once you finally look ahead, you notice that the table, although neatly decorated, consists only of two seats that have been prepared for dining. Two opposing seats, causing the whole setup to seem of ridiculous length. 
"Pardon my intrusion, but is anyone else attending?" You cannot contain your curiosity.
"Oh, no.  Not really." Hannibal pulls your chair outwards before departing to his own designated place. "It's you and me. Does that bother you?"
"I suppose it's cozier this way." You brush it aside with a chuckle. Better than being alone, you tell yourself.
He nods in agreement before settling down. He takes a moment to examine the table, confirming that everything is indeed in its proper place. A final, satisfied incline of his head.
"Allow me to introduce today's dishes. I don't want to keep you waiting for too long." He says as he remembers your earlier little gesture of delight. "It's a little bit of a scattered theme, if I am to be honest with you. I've drawn my inspiration from varied cuisines."
"I can see. How exciting!" You swiftly scan over the diverse plates, enthusiastic and hungry.
"The main course is over there. Balsamic-glazed oven baked ribs. I recommend a drizzle of cranberry sauce to go with it."
As he points to the dish, he can almost hear the dry crack of the bone. Abruptly, he's been taken back to the previous night, to his humble slaughter room - the meat needs to be fresh after all. Shears cut through the ribs with little resistance. The blades go around the thoracic cavity, contouring the ribcage. Once a proper opening has been made, he firmly grasps each side of the ribcage and nonchalantly lifts the bone flap, resting it over the face. 
Wait. He quickly digs through the skin and fat that had been shoved aside with the carcass, searching for the face of the victim. It's you. How delectable and surprising that you've wandered into such a recollection. Well, not quite a surprise that you've invaded his memories; from the very moment he met you he's been plagued by this indecent idea: How would you look on the dissecting table?
His musings are interrupted by the sizzle of the sparkling wine he's currently pouring in your glass. He finds himself back at the dining table, together with his favorite guest. You graciously thank him, and as he gazes over your features, he can't help but continue this game of imagination he's just spontaneously devised. Whoever had been carefully served for this occasion will be temporarily replaced during the theatrical retelling by you. And what a fine actor you'll be, even though you're not aware of it.
Alright, one must start from the beginning. He traces the edge of the autopsy table and inspects the drain just below your feet. He wouldn't want an incident. Would you be mortified if you'd learn your secretions and discharges leaked and clotted against the sieve? Don't worry, you'll be spared of such scenarios. He'd never willingly embarrass you like that. He softly presses the scalpel against your bare skin, going under each breast and stopping at the pubic bone. Now to trim the thick layers of fat sticking to the dermis. You're not making much of a mess, but then again it's a dream within his idle mind. A mischievous grin takes over his expression once he witnesses his clean work. The segments of skin detach smoothly, revealing your glistening, bloated organs. 
He already went over the ribs. That part has been covered. What comes next? His eyes rest on the most obvious: your intestines. Which reminds him...
"This one is a Middle Eastern dish. Stuffed intestines. You gently cut the membrane, like this." He demonstrates on a separate plate. "Don't worry about seeing some additional blood. Naturally there are many capillaries irrigating the walls, so you might open them up in the process. It quickly seeps into the mixture and adds a bit of a stagnant flavor to it, but it's merely noticeable."
You swallow dryly.
Back to the original matters. He searches for his scissors and cuts along the attachment tissue smoothly. Once the bowels have been freed, he fondles them into his hands, cupping them into place, and hurries to the nearby counter. The entrails collapse and spread onto the marble surface, like mischievous tentacles. He languidly eyes them. Do organs resemble their owner? Absurd question, really. Do they reflect one's health - that much is indubitable. Yet he can't help feeling that if presented with an endless row of viscera, he could, without hesitation, point and state which ones are yours. It's a mysterious confidence whose source he cannot pinpoint. You've always captivated him. Just when he thinks he's had you like an open book, you slip and slither between his fingers. Fitting.
What is it about you that preoccupies his mind to such degree? He turns back to the table and scans the remaining options. Your intelligence? The tool drawer opens and his fingers linger over the saw and skull chisel. Perhaps. But there's more to it, really. His analytical, rational self craves for more than what it can grasp. And what it lacks, well...
He pinches the visceral fascia and lifts the translucent membrane, with the same delicacy of unveiling a young bride, and reveals your heart, cold and still. There it is, the answer to everything. A transect to the vena cava near the diaphragm and the organ has been separated from the rest of the body. An angel with clipped wings. Holding it like this, he can almost discern the faintest throb, the fibrous muscle pressing into his skin. 
"And this?"
He purses his lips, taken aback by his own rudeness. Has he been zoning out in plain sight?
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"The dish, I mean."
He follows the direction of your stretched out index. Ah.
"Heart stuffed with mushroom duxelle. Old English classic with a twist." 
"You sound like a professional chef", you respond as you laugh. "Is there anything you can't do?"
Is there? He considers it. Right before his revelation was discontinued by your inquiry - absolutely not your fault, the ill manners were his - he was wondering if he possesses the capacity to love you. He definitely prefers you over all of the people he's encountered in his life, and your behavior and way of thinking never ceases to make him curious. Yet love is a conclusion he cannot asses with certainty. 
He had hoped a vivisectionist approach would offer him concrete data, palpable reasoning, but his journey only reinforced that some concepts must be tested outside of pure introspection. Or, as one would describe it colloquially, he has to take the bull by its horns. 
"By the way, what meat is this?" You have arranged yourself a platter with a little bit of everything, and just finished chewing a hearty bite. "Ox or something? It's very tender."
If Hannibal is to embark on his expedition of human feelings, he needs to reflect on his choices carefully. Or does he? Hmm. His methodical tactics are what caused this impasse in the first place. 
One can afford to give in, every now and then. How will you react to his self indulgence? He rests his head on the back of his intertwined hands and stares at you with a determined look. 
"Human."
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