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cupid-styles · 1 day

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brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life.

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides.

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship.

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom.

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak.

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest.

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox.

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches.

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences.

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise.

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?”

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now.

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.”

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed.

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck.

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks.

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled.

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank.

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression.

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?”

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention.

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly.

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit.

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze.

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his.

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear.

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows.

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

637 notes · View notes

naomiarai · 2 days

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𝔸𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 — 𝙻. 𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐

╔. ■ .═══════╗

➤ in which you’ve grown a liking to the roommate of the guy you tutor.

╚═══════. ■ .╝

➤ PAIRING — heeseung × fem! reader

➤ GENRE — romance, smut, fluff, comedy if you squint, f2l, college au

➤ WARNINGS — mentions of drinking, dom! heeseung, big dick! heeseung, sub! reader, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty), oral (m.rec), vaginal fingering, doggy, manhandling, lots of kissing, creampie, multiple orgasms, spanking, slight nipple play, kind of public sex?/ semi public sex. [ lmk if i missed anything ]

➤ WC — 6.6K

➤ AUTHOR — reblogs and feedback are appreciated! (not proofread)

➤ [ enha masterlist ] [ taglist ]

You lift your head from the fiction book it was practically buried in, taking in your surroundings. The cafeteria was huddled with people, either stuffing their faces or babbling too much to care about their cold food. Reaching for your spoon, you fit the last of your rice into your mouth, chewing far too slow, with a sudden foul expression. You stare at Beomgyu, who weirdly stumbles his way towards you. What an idiot.

He makes his way to chair beside you, carelessly dragging it to sit down. You swallow expectedly, pulling a poker face. Beomgyu’s the last person you’d talk to, truly because he was a complete imbecile. The kind that if you were to tell him that he was one, he'd start fake crying and stick his very blue tongue out. (Yes he almost always has a blue fucking lollipop stuck in his mouth, and it TOTALLY irks you.)

Clearly not a big fan of him. So why would said Beomgyu come up to you?

He rotates his chair to completely face yours, letting out a deep breath; smiling at you uneasily. You arch your eyebrow, holding back a snort at how stupid he looks eyeing you.

“Uh..hi.. I’m Beomgyu, Choi—” he says; getting cut off by you before he could finish.

“Choi Beomgyu, I know,” you drawl. Who doesn't at this point?

He swallows nervously; eyes wandering away from yours, “Look, I know this is totally out of character for me, and I would kill to go back but, I kind of need your help” he whispers as if to make sure no one hears him.

Your face contorts into disbelief and confusion. Thats odd.

“Help? Why would you need my help?, don’t you have your buddies for that?”

Beomgyu's nervous, fidgeting with his fingers on the table. “Well, they could try, but it won't really help,” he confesses. “My grades are too low, I can't keep up the act of being okay, you know?” he mutters lowly.

You press your tongue against your cheek, getting what he’s trying to say.

“So, you're asking if I can tutor you?" you clarify, waiting for his nod. He quietly agrees. While tutoring isn’t exactly your specialty, you’ve given it a shot in the past. You could easily say no and leave him without help, but the opportunity to earn some extra cash is tempting enough to give it a go.

“Alright, what's the wage?” you ask in a relaxed tone. Beomgyu seems relieved, attempting to hide his grin.

“Thinking $10 per hour?” he suggests tentatively.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” you respond, unimpressed. Come on Beomgyu, you’re pretty loaded.

“How about $15?” he proposes without hesitation.

“Hmm, on second thought..”

“$25!” he interjects, irritation creeping into his voice.

You smile, content with the improved offer. “Deal.”

“Great, we can meet at my apartment, I just moved in last month; I need to be independent apparently” he says quickly. “Just a heads up, I have a roommate. I totally had to fight him for the apartment, so we’re rooming. He won't be a bother, we'll just have the place to ourselves in my room, he’s never home anyway”.

You nod in understanding and inquire, “Is he from around here?” Beomgyu nods and responds, “Yeah, his name's Heeseung, you know, the one thats’s boring AF?”

You take a brief pause, running your tongue over your lips as you wrack your brain for any sign of a Heeseung among your classmates. Surprisingly, you can’t seem to place him, which is unusual since you typically have a good grasp of everyone in your year. It's possible that Heeseung is just someone who prefers to stay under the radar, which might explain why you haven’t heard of him.

“Weird, I don’t know a Heeseung in our year” you say with confused tone.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes rolling in dismissal. “He’s always been like that. Anyway, I’m only still rooming with him because, well, he's almost never home and I can’t cook” he says, eyes bored.

The lunch bell rings loudly, abruptly halting your conversation. You glance at Beomgyu and manage a small smile. “I’ll drop by tomorrow; today's just too busy, you inform him. He gives a thumbs-up in response. With that settled, you start clearing your tray.

╰┈➤

Exiting the elevator, you walk down the corridor, each step bringing you closer to Beomgyu's door. He's waiting for you, his dark hair easy to spot in the hallway. You approach him, greeting him by waving your hand.

You quickly kick off your sneakers and step in, scanning the area with a keen eye. Everything looks neat enough, but the sight of a mop leaning against the wall and the freshly mopped floor makes you wonder. Did he just clean up right before you got here? Seems likely, considering he didn't bother to sweep before mopping. Looks like cleaning isn't really his thing.

Beomgyu gestures towards his room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You follow him inside, and as you step in, you’re greeted by a burst of color. The walls are painted a bold red, adorned with pictures and posters of basketball stars and iconic moments. You can't help but admire the shiny pictures that catch the light, giving the room a vibrant energy. “Cool room” you say, feeling drawn to the bright atmosphere created by all the basketball themed decor.

“Thanks” he says proudly, glancing up at his room.

You glance over at him, smoothly pulling out one of the chairs positioned by the desk, then lowering yourself onto its burgundy red cushion. Beomgyu follows your lead, exhaling audibly as he takes a seat beside you. He picks up a book from his cluttered desk and flips through it, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eventually, he slides it over to you, saying quietly, ‘I don't understand this.’

Examining the content, you meet Beomgyu's gaze with a bored expression. “Beomgyu, this is really basic," you remark casually, flipping through the pages without much interest. You know you’re being fairly annoying saying that. But if Beomgyu wants you to tutor him, he’ll have to deal with it.He gives you a dramatic eye roll and clenches his teeth, interrupting you with a sarcastically sweet tone, “Can we just get to the point already?” You stifle a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Alright, alright”.

After spending about two hours tutoring, you're ready to wrap things up. Despite Beomgyu's jokes sneaking in here and there, you feel good about how it went. Plus, getting paid $50 is a nice bonus for your time.

You lean back in your chair, letting out a tired yawn. “Well, I guess it's time to head out,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. Beomgyu nods in agreement, rising from his seat. Just then, the sound of the front door being unlocked catches you off guard, causing you to glance at Beomgyu for reassurance. He seems unfazed. Oh. It must be his roommate, Heeseung, if you remember correctly.

You don’t think much of it, heading out of his room towards the door, Beomgyu following close behind. Glancing at the hand holding the door still, you stop on your tracks, awkwardly waiting for this Heeseung to enter. The soft creak of the door’s release draws your attention, as your eyes meet his, times seems to momentarily halt. Were people supposed to be this good looking or was it the lack of love in your life? God, he’s mesmerizing.

“_______”? You hear Beomgyu say, as your mind cuts your train of thoughts. “This is Heeseung, the one I was talking about yesterday” he tells you as you nod quietly in his direction, eyes still fixated on Heeseung.

Heeseung eyes you up and down, humming when Beomgyu introduces you as the girl from class who tutors him. You look familiar. You smile shyly, legs heading towards the end of the door. But what you caught on his face just as you stepped out brings red to your cheeks.

He fucking smirked.

It leaves you pondering, as you mutter a ‘bye’ to Beomgyu, not bothering to look at him. What was that? Did he do that to fluster you? You shouldn’t overthink it. Maybe he does that all time. Whatever, you’re not going to dwell on it. But it does leave you with more enthusiasm to come over to tutor Beomgyu. You’ll hope the only thing you’ll do here is teach.

It’s been about a month since you’ve been tutoring Beomgyu. You’re overall pretty satisfied with how it’s been going; you could see genuine improvement with him.

Other than the fact that you’re effort is going on the right track, you might also be taking advantage of your time there. Your suspiciously long ‘study breaks’ might have not always been for the said purpose. They might have been to make small talk with his roommate; when he arrived home earlier than usual. Or when the times up and you have to leave, delaying your departure so you can see his face atleast once a day. You can’t deny the attraction. Sure, the small talk might be slightly awkward but you atleast get to know him.

You walk out of Beomgyu’s room, on one of your so called ‘breaks’. Today's a good day. Heeseung’s home early!

You make your way towards the kitchen; you must say the counters are well done. They’re like a distraction if it gets awkward talking to him As the door to Heeseung's room swings open, the subtle movement sends a shiver down your spine, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You straighten up, hands crawling up a cabinet to find a glass for water.

You feel his figure behind you, somehow so close yet so far. “On break?” He asks, voice raspy. Must’ve took a nap. “Yeah” you mumble taking ahold of a glass. You turn around, drinking in his figure; oh fuck he’s in a tank top.

You almost stumble walking forward to fill your glass, just when you feel him grab your glass, “I’ll fill it for you. Grab me one too will ya?” he says grinning. Oh does he have to smile like that infront of you?

Nodding slowly, you walk back, getting another glass and handing it over to him. Heeseung mutters a ‘thank you’, proceeding to fill it up.

“Beomgyu tells me you don’t recognize me. I sit behind you in chemistry, silly , i was waiting for you to realise” he says with slight confusion laced into his words.

Your eyes become slightly wide, imagining yourself inside chemistry class. It ticks your brain. Of course, that’s why you must have looked familiar to him. “Right, sorry I never caught that”.

Before he can say anything you hear Beomgyu’s whiny voice calling your name, indicating it’s been far too long since you’ve been gone.

Now you’re on your way to Beomgyu’s again. It’s a Saturday, but he requested you to come. Just as you enter your cab, you hear the loud shrieking sound of thunder, indicating rain. Getting in, you sink into the cozy cab seat, the sound of rain tapping on the windows and occasional flashes of lightning outside creating a quite yet filled atmosphere. You gaze outside with a slight pout. It’s quite late as your leaving now, you hope the rain calms down by the time you have to go home.

Stepping out of the cab, rain pours down relentlessly. You dash towards the elevator, hands shielding your head from the downpour. Inside, you quickly fix your hair in the mirrored walls, hoping the rain doesn’t worsen. Looking into the mirror like walls of the elevator, you fix up your hair. God, you really hope the rain calms down.

The elevator’s soft robotic hum faded as you stepped into the familiar corridor, your feet moving automatically towards the well known door. With a sigh, you rang the doorbell, the sound cutting through the quiet. Taking off your sandals, you huff, waiting.

You hear feet walk up behind the door, unlocking it. But you don’t expect to meet eyes with Heeseung, white earphones stuck in his eyes and a song paused on his phone.

“Beomgyu’s not home..? It’s a Saturday anyway, you tutor him on Saturdays too? Geez” he says as you stand still, digesting what he just said.

Before you can answer him, your phone buzzes, a notification.

[Choi Beomgyu], 7:14 PM :

heyy im so sorry but uh i forgot i had plans today.. youve probably reached by now and its raining like crazy and I don't think its gonna stop so you can stay over for the night in my room, i’ll be at a friends’. use one of my tshirts or smtg. also heeseung's home so you wont get killed at night! again sorry!! </3

You internally roll your eyes. Seriously? But you can’t stay mad at him, he seems kind of genuine.

“I think I’ll have to crash here tonight,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly as you offer a tentative smile. As if on cue, Heeseung pulls the door open wide, ushering you inside with a dramatic gesture. “Beomgyu asked me to use his room, kay?” you explain, feeling a sudden surge of liveliness.

Heeseung chuckles at you, his eyes fixed on you as he watches you set down on your bag on the couch heading into Beomgyu’s room. You still feel captivated each time you enter his room; you wonder what Heeseung’s room looks like, you’ve only ever seen glimpses of it whenever he came out of it. Black walls or something.

You look around for his closest, quickly landing your eyes on the half-black, half-red wardrobe. Grabbing the handle and tugging it open, you start to look for t-shirts, thats’s something comfortable. And maybe some shorts as well. Yeah, you might look a bit awkward in it but it’s just for one night.

You frown your face, unable to locate any t-shirts. God, where does this man keep his things?

“What’re you looking for so interesting?” you hear a familiar voice say, flinching at it. You turn around to find Heeseung, arms crossed leaning against one of the open doors of the wardrobe. Dangerously close to you, you must say.

“B..Beomgyu asked me to use his t-shirt or something for the night” you explain, licking your lips. “But I just can’t find any”, you say with a annoyed sigh.

Was it just you or did you imagine the look of distate on Heeseung’s when you mentioned wearing Beomgyu’s t-shirt?

“They’re all in the wash, the idiot probably forgot, use mine,” he tells you, staring into your eyes with miniscule smile.

You can’t help but feel shocked by his offer, causing your heart to beat faster. It may seem insignificant, borrowing clothes, but it’s Heeseung. Your voice feels trapped in your throat, a rush of excitement running through your veins. It just feels special when it comes from him. But you definitely can’t say no, can you?

You reply in a quiet voice, trying not to seem overly enthusiastic, “If you’re completely sure...” He responds with a gentle smile while gently tugging at your wrist. Surprised by the gesture, you let out a soft gasp but ultimately decide to go along with it.

Entering his room, directly opposite Beomgyu’s, the matte black walls catch your eye, imbuing the space with a sleek, modern vibe. The abundance of books scattered; if arranged with proper shelving and space could make a pretty mini library.

As you find yourself in the midst of his room, you can't help but admire the coolness of both of your rooms. “You guys have such cool rooms” you exclaim, watching as Heeseung frantically searches through his closet. You hear his echoed chuckle as you walk towards him, taking a peek at his closet. He seems to have just destroyed its neatness. But you do notice the many t-shirts laying flat and wrinkled on the floor.

“There’s a like a billion one of those t-shirts you’re searching for on the floor, Lee” you tell him, bending down to pick up the two you see. “And a pair of shorts too” you add. Heeseung hums in response with a grin, sighing as he pulls out a pretty white t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Certainly a little too big for you, sure as hell comfortable. Plus it’s Heeseung’s, makes it all the better.

He turns towards you, holding the t-shirt out in display. “I think you’d look nice in this” he tells you trying to contain a smile sheepishly. Did he do all this searching, messing up his well organised wardrobe, just because he thought this one specific one would look good on you? You would kiss him if you could right now.

You try to stay calm, trying to hide your eagerness as you thank him softly, taking it from him. Turning around, you move to leave; but stop on your tracks when you feel his hand on your wrist stopping you. Instinctively you look back, Heeseung’s face mere inches away from yours. If you moved any closer, your lips would touch his. And you don’t know if that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

“You forgot this” he says,handing you the black shorts, brown orbs still looking into yours. You feel some sort of relief when he says that, quickly taking it from him. “Right” you say in response walking away.

As you walk away, you think about what just happened; would he have kissed you back if you did first? Does he like you like that? Or is it just some occurring tension between you two? You don’t know but you’ll let it play out like this.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, you take a moment to appreciate the comfort and loose fit of your attire. The t-shirt drapes effortlessly over your torso, offering a snug yet relaxed feeling. The shorts fit good at your waist too, thanks to it being elastic. Heeseung was right about thinking it’d look good on you. And again, it’s his.

You step out of the bathroom, slowly walking your way into the living room. You spot Heeseung on je couch, a video game console in his hands and eyes fixated on the TV screen. Stopping on your tracks you watch him, completely not noticing you. From what you’ve seen, he’s not as boring as Beomgyu has told you before. You see a second console on the coffee table. It’s so obvious they play together.

“Mind if I join in?”, you ask, your voice brimming with excitement as you make your way over to the couch where he's lounging. With a playful bounce, you settle yourself down right beside him, looking over at him.

His eyes roam over you, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Is he pleased with how his clothes fit you, or does he see something off? Heeseung’s gulp breaks the tension, and he meets your gaze once more, leaving you uncertain about what his look truly means.

“Do I look weird or something?” you say, laughing awkwardly. Please say no.

He almost immediately denies your assumptions, “No, fuck you don’t,” he says swallowing once more, “You look..good, that’s all” he continues. No, that’s not what he wants to say. He thinks you look hot. But best left inside his head. You internally sigh in relief, thank god. Resuming back to what you said, you ask again giggling, “So can I play?”

He nods his head in agreement, grinning. Bending over to grab the other console, you shuffle into a comfortable seating position, hands on your knees. “Good luckkk” you drawl with confidence. Heeseung scoffs at you with a smile, he’d kiss that attitude out of you but he'll watch you play for now.

“I’ve experienced Beomgyu storming out in anger because he didn't win like five times in a row,” he tells you with a cocky smile. Alright, skilled gamer Heeseung. Although your confidence may have wavered, you refuse to let it affect you. Your main goal is to enjoy yourself during your time here.

“Beomgyu acts like you’re so boring, yet he seems to have pretty good friendship with you” you say softly. Heeseung hums in response, “It’s because I only play with him sometimes, not really so often. He’s just over-dramatic, really” he brushes off.

You nod in understanding, “Let’s play then, shall we?”

You don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard at someone’s face before. Heeseung’s face when you swiftly went past him and won the game has you breaking into peels of laughter. His face is truly priceless.

“Did that hurt your ego?” you say between soft giggles. Heeseung stares at you, holding back a grin. The way you feel confident after winning over him, entices him; He wants to ruin that confidence, he wants to ruin you. “Beginners luck” he replies instead. You continue to giggle at him, laughter dying down as silence pierces through. It’s peaceful, not awkward at all as the both of you sit in the rather calming quietnesss.

The quiet room suddenly got noisy with your unexpected hiccups. You felt them like tiny jumps in your chest, making you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen, your steps clumsy against the relentless spasms. Opening up the very familiar cupboard, you tap against its inner floor, reaching for a glass. Gasping quietly as you land your feet from tip toeing; you lick your lips, turning to go fill it up.

You’ve always liked this kitchen. It gave you a feeling nostalgia; having such a similar one back at your parents house.

“You enjoyed winning so much didn’t you?” Heeseung says with amusement lacing his words. Gulping down the last of your water with an uncontrollable smile, you nod at him. You like having him slightly worked up. It’s entertaining.

Heeseung walks over towards you, suddenly caging you with his arms. Your hands instinctively grasp at the counter behind you, eyes darting down. His eyes look into yours sharply inching even closer, if you went just a little closer, your noses would touch and at that point you should just kiss. Temptation clouds your mind and ball of confidence strikes you; retrieving your hands from the counter, you pause before connecting your lips to his.

His lips freeze against yours; certainly was not expecting you to do that. But as soon as he hears your soft whine, his arms that once surrounded the space around you, grabbed at your waist. The soft feeling of his lips on yours melts your body into desire, but before you can fall under it, you pull away.Heeseung groans just as you cut contact, looking at you with an puzzled expression. What are you doing to him? You give him what he wants and blatantly take it away. That’s the game you play huh? You tip toe, bending your neck over his as you take a peek at the wall clock fixed in the living room, just next to the kitchen. 10 PM it read. Time does fly when you have fun.

“Sex this late night ruins my sleep” you tell him with a fake pout plastered on your face. “Maybe next time, Lee” you add on as you cup his face, only to kiss his cheek before slipping away out. Heeseung freezes, shock etched across his features as he replays the scene in his mind. He grapples with your intentions, wondering when this “next time” will occur. It’s clear you’re pushing his buttons, you literally kissed him for a hot minute and left him helplessly hanging. You’re good at switching up aren’t you? If he has to play this game to put you in your place, then so be it.

All confidence that resided inside you vanished as soon as you closed the door to Beomgyu’s room. God, did you actually do that? Your ego definitely seems to spike sometimes. You don’t know if you regret it; from the sheer look in his eyes and searing kiss, it was obvious he liked you too. You just might have left quite an impression on him, it was bold of you. The future of your actions lay flat for tomorrow.

You wake up to the noise of the front door being opened, assuming it was Beomgyu, you rub your tightly closed eyes open. Having slept fairly well last night, you quickly got out of bed, arranging the sheets neat. This wasn’t your bed or home to leave untidy, like you occasionally do. Although you think Beomgyu is no better than you.

Walking out you see Beomgyu, helping himself to a cup of ramen. You’d like some breakfast before you leave.

“Hey, got another cup?” you ask with grogginess evident in your voice. Beomgyu finally takes a look at you, pausing at your question for a few minutes before nodding. He turns back momentarily to grab another cup, sliding it over to you. You can’t help but turn your eyes over to Heeseung’s room. Is he still in bed?

“Where’s your ‘boring’ roommate?” you ask him with a hint laughter in your voice. Beomgyu gives you a sarcastic roll of his eyes, “He left for the gym right as I came in” he says replying to your asked question. Oh. You guess the only time you’ll see him again is on Monday.

Finally pouring in the hot water, you close the cup with the paper lid, waiting. As you sit waiting for your meal, lost in your thoughts, your mind wanders aimlessly. Suddenly, a sharp gasp escapes your lips as your attention is abruptly pulled back to reality by Beomgyu, who has made an odd noise while pointing his index finger in your direction.

You look at him with a confused expression, “I thought I told you use my t-shirt? That’s not mine” he says, staring at you for an answer. Halting for short second, you reply back “I looked through your closet, and Heeseung told me that they were all in the wash, genius. So he lent me his”

Beomgyu looks at you with squinting eyes, processing all what you said before he casually hums. Opening your lid back up, you mix your noodles before going in for a much needed savory bite, humming in delight you look up with happy eyes.

“So, What did you do last night?” Beomgyu questions, inching his elbows closer to you. The question is harmless and innocent if you view it the way you should, but in your case, there are only two things memorable — winning over Heeseung and kissing Heeseung. You can’t help smile internally remembering them, you still feel the feeling of his lips on yours if you think about it long enough.

Beomgyu waves his hand infront of you, as to pop your thinking bubble, “R..Right, yeah, I didn’t do much, just played some video games and went to bed, that’s all” you answer stuttering slightly at your words.

His eyes light up at the mention of video games, a grin fighting for freedom on his face, “Who won?” he asks enthusiastically. You’re sure Beomgyu’s hoping for you to say that you had won, recollecting that he always lost to his skilled roommate. Licking your lips in a swift motion, you press your lips together in a tight smile, gazing at Beomgyu.

The look on your face is all he needs to let out a sigh of happy relief, “Fuck yes! Somebody actually beat Heeseung” he exclaims with delight offering you a high-five, which you gladly receive. Slurping up the last of your breakfast, you walk over to throw in the trash informing Beomgyu on the way that you’ll head out after changing back into your clothes from last night.

As if remembering something important, he calls you again, “ _______!, just wanted to let you know, I’m hosting a party at my parents’ place on Monday you know, since the semesters about to end. And they’re not home anyway. Your’re invited if you’re up for it” he blurts out.

“Who's gonna be there?” you question, intrigued.

“Like practically everyone; Yuna, the girl with red glasses, Heeseung, me, duh and—

“I’ll be there, send me the address” you cut him off, rushing back inside and change before you leave.

You apply a coat of rosy lip gloss, pressing your lips together with satisfaction. You look good tonight, clad in a snug black mini skirt paired elegantly with a delicate white lace tube top and your hair down in waves. The top showcases just the right amount of skin, accentuating the look of your slender silver chain. It’s both sexy and cute.

The party’s at 8 PM, and you’ll be just on time if you leave right now. You take one more good look in your full length mirror, nodding to yourself, before finally heading out.

╰┈➤

You stare in awe at the house the party resided in. It’s truly beautiful, and big. The lively music and joyful voices coming from inside indicate that Beomgyu has invited a lot of people. It’s clear he’s gone all out to make sure everyone has a great time tonight. You enter with a soft sigh, clutching onto your baby pink handbag. The music is loud but quite enough to hear people talk to one another. Your eyes scan around the area; looking for Beomgyu. The large table with drinks catch your eye as you spot Beomgyu sipping on a can of beer.

He locks eyes with you as you make your way towards him, managing a small smile.

“Oh my god, you’re like two minutes late” he exclaims dramatically, holding up his phone in the which glowed ‘8:02 PM’. You give him an unimpressed look. That seems to shut him up as he gives you a small pout.

You grab a can of beer from the table, popping it open and taking a sip.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a house tour, you’re probably the only one who hasn’t been here” he tells already walking ahead.

You faithfully trail behind him as he leads you on a tour through each luxurious room, offering short descriptions of their purposes. The surroundings are nothing short of extravagant, soaring ceilings, intricate architectural designs, and an abundance of totally unnecessary paintings on the wall. The overall aura of the place resembles a palace, filled to the brim with people.

As you both progress down the hallway, the fading music suggests you’re approaching the final room. Each room you’ve passed has been bustling with at least five people, engaged in drinking, sleeping, or playing some sort of game. However, between all this, Heeseung’s absence stands out. You’re left to ponder where he is : Either he dipped out on coming or he’s inside the room you’re just about to enter.

Beomgyu gestures towards the door, softly remarking, “And here’s the last room, my childhood sanctuary.” With a gentle click, he swings it open, revealing a truly elegant space. Stepping inside, you instinctively search for Heeseung, your gaze finally settling on him. He acknowledges Beomgyu, waving at him before he buries his gaze on you.

You look away as soon as you make eye contact, pretending to observe the room instead. Other than Heeseung there are few other guys in the room, they’re all sitting on the bed; probably chatting before you came in.

“What are ya’ll doing just talking? The drinks are downstairs, come down!” Beomgyu tells them with annoyance evident in his voice.

“I’ll stay, not in the mood to drink right now” Heeseung mutters, his eyes still fixated on you. Beomgyu looks at you with bored eyes as if silently letting you know that the person who just spoke is infact really boring. You give him a small giggle before telling him that you’d come down in a bit too. You just might have a little talking to do. Beomgyu gives you an expression of ‘you too?’ before leading the other guys out down with him.

As soon as you turn your head from watching them leave to head down, you slightly flinch at Heeseung walking past you to swiftly lock the door. Safe to say you’re not surprised. You slide your handbag off your shoulder, mounting it on a nearby shelf. Just then you feel a gentle tug at your wrist and immediate contact with Heeseung’s lips. You halt for a second before you wrap your hands around his neck, pads of your fingers pressing into the nape of his neck.

His lips feel just as soft as the first time, addicting you must say. He seems just as eager as you are, slyly pushing his tongue inside your mouth with a grin you could tell he had on. You whine into his mouth, signalling him to pull away to breathe. He pulls away slowly, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you pant heavily. God you really need him right now. His eyes look into yours as you giggle at the lip gloss smeared over his mouth. He looks at you amused as you wipe then gloss off with a focused stare.

“What happened to ‘sex ruins your sleep at night’ ?” he asks you mockingly, running his hands over your ass.

“Your dick’s hard” you retort, hands coming down to palm his cock. He hisses as you do so, mumbling a curse.

“I’ll just go fuck another girl” he tells with a smirk, eager to see your reaction. He’s really trying to piss you off huh?

“No you fucking won’t” you tell him with a laugh, connecting your lips back together. He dosen’t complain, immediately melting into the kiss as you still rub his hard on, making him moan into it. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good his lips feel against yours.

“That’s right, so suck me off will you?” he says against your lips.

And that's how you end up on your knees, holding onto Heeseung’s thighs tightly while he thrusts his big fucking dick into your mouth. You eagerly suck and twirl your tongue around the lower part of his shaft, making sure to cover it with your saliva. The grip on his thighs becomes even tighter as he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, his mushroom tip brushing against the back.

“J..Just like that baby, god you were made for this” he rasps with eyes closed shut, fingers caressing your hair. You let out quiet moans against his dick, your panties progressively getting wetter. You’re desperate for him inside you.

Continuing to suck him off, you decide to tease him a bit, after all he is, so close to coming. You pull off his dick, retrieving your hands from his thighs and grabbing at the base of it and giving his red tip kitten licks. He groans at loss of your mouth, eyes glaring at your doe eyed ones. “Don’t fucking tease or you won’t get to cum later” he warns you. The thought of not cumming when your pussy was dripping and pulsating like this sent shivers down your spine.

You almost immediately stuff his cock back in your mouth; but you pause when you feel feel Heeseung’s hands gripping your hair, fucking your mouth. It’s sloppy and messy; you feel hot tears well up at your eyes, falling down endlessly as he continues to fuck your throat deep.

“Thats’s a good girl, fuck, ’m gonna cum” he moans, his movements in your mouth gradually easing as he releases his warmth down your throat. Heeseung breathes heavily, his eyes widening with a smile as he gazes at your exhausted expression; cheeks flushed, eyes watery, and most likely a very wet pussy. He bends down to pick you up again, mounting you on his lap as he lifts your skirt, fingers dipping into your soaked cunt.

You whine into his neck, feeling him move your drenched panties to the side, filling your cunt with two of his fingers, sinking in and out of you painfully slow. Heeseung chuckles at your whimpers, finding them cute as he adds a third finger, picking up his pace. He starts pressing wet kisses into your neck, sucking on the shell of your ear which only fueled the building pleasure inside of you.

“Hah—! please, wanna cu..m gonna cum” you groan into his neck as you cream over his fingers, knot in your stomach free as you relieve your high, hugging Heeseung tighter. He brings up his coated fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Need to fuck you now, but let me eat you out next time, yeah?” he whispers into your ear, as you finally look at him again placing a kiss on your lips. You hum in response, a slight gasp escaping your lips as he flips you on your stomach, ass up in the air; removing the your skirt and sticky underwear. He takes a moment to look at your glistening cunt, slightly swollen from your previous orgasm.

You want to say something you know you shouldn’t, because one, it’s way beyond the truth and two, not when he has you under him like this, no control over him and pussy ready for him to slip into. But you like pissing him off and getting him worked up. Just as you feel his dick poke at your entrance, you whisper, “Small dick”.

You may have said it in a low voice but the way you feel Heeseung stiffen up behind you only confirms he had clearly heard it.

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me on the girl who was fucking choking on this small dick not so long ago” he spits out with amusement lacing his words, cock slipping into your folds whole without notice. You let out a string of choked moans, words breaking down into nothing as he pounds into you relentlessly. Falling face down onto the sheets, you tug on them tighter, body jerking and thighs shaking. To say he felt good buried inside of you was a huge understatement.

He hold your hips tighter, cursing at how you clench down at him each time he goes deeper into you.

“Look at you, cunts sucking me in so good, been desperate for my cock haven’t you?” Heeseung growls with a cruel laugh, leaning down to suck on your back as he still fucks into you. You don’t answer, mind fogged up with cock ruining your pussy as your eyes roll back. One of his hands pull you back up, then grabbing at your bouncing tits, rubbing at your nipples.

He slaps your ass, eyes watching it jiggle with each pound he gives. “Fucking answer me” he demands you, only making you moan louder as you feel his tip brutally hammer at your cervix, pushing you towards the edge.

“Yes! hnng!— fuck yes! gah- please” you blurt out, the need to cum again building up fast.

Heeseung lets out a shriek, cock swollen inside of you as he fills your cunt up with his cum. But he still fucks into you, getting you closer to your high. The way he filled you up only tightened the knot inside you, squirting out on his cock and coating. Your vision sees white as you pant heavily, head throbbing.

Heeseung slowly moves your tired body onto his lap, picking you all over your face as you get back into your senses. “What a way to finally say I love you” he tells you, kissing the crown on your head. You giggle at him, feeling a strong sense of euphoria rush through you.

“I’ve always liked you” you tell him, looking away and playing with his fingers. He chuckles at you, placing another kiss on your lips. “Good, I had a thing for you too” he whispers into your ear.

Suddenly you hear a stiff knock at door, you jolt up in surprise, “Can you please open the fucking door? I need to piss! All the others are occupied!” you hear Beomgyu’s voice outside, desperate to get inside. It makes you realise you literally fucked on his bed, and totally messed up the cheeks. The thought of cleaning it up burns red into your cheeks.

You look up at Heeseung, as if asking what to do. But with the grin he has on his face says otherwise.

“Wait just a little more, I’ve got to make _______ cum again!” he screams out at the door slyly spreading your legs again.

You don’t think Beomgyu has to use the bathroom anymore.

617 notes · View notes

adriennebarnes · 3 days

Text

The “Affair”

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Wife! Reader

Summary: After adopting 8 dogs, Charles tells his wife no more dogs. However, as a veterinarian working in an animal shelter, it’s very hard for Y/N to turn down a dog. So when she comes home with a puppy while Charles is away but tries to make it seem like she had an affair…getting a 9th dog doesn’t sound so bad, right?

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, probably a lot of inaccuracies

A/N: i love Salma Hayek and the story she tells about rescuing Ochoa is so funny.

When Charles and Y/N first started dating when they were 20, he knew how much she loved dogs. The first time he went to her apartment, he saw her with two German shepherds.

“Muñeco! Please meet Sirius and Nova.” Y/N said, walking up to Charles, the two dogs following her.

"When you told me you had dogs, I don’t know why, but I pictured you owning like a shih tzu or maybe a Maltese.” Charles admitted, observing the German shepherds who began sniffing him.

“Why? You think because I am Latina I must have a white crusty dog?” Y/N asked, acting all offended.

“No no no, of course not.” Charles responded scared that me might have offended his girlfriend.

“I’m teasing. No, I got them from the shelter. You know how I’m studying to become a vet? So right now I’m just a vet assistant at the shelter and when I walked in for my shift, these two dogs tried to get close to me, they would whine when I would leave the room, when I would take them outside for their walks, they would follow me, I had to adopt them. No one likes getting big dogs from the shelter, pero son tan lindos.” Y/N said, petting her dogs, the dogs were wagging their tails, enjoying the affection. Charles's heart melted. He always wanted his own dog and by the looks of it, he might get his wish with Y/N.

"How did you come up with the names?" Charles asked.

"Well obviously Sirius is named after Sirius Black from Harry Potter, and Nova to fit the space theme. Since they were picked up from the street without collars, we named them at the shelter." Y/N said. Charles leaned down to pet the dogs. Nova began licking his face while Sirius was still smelling him, you know what they say about a male dog being owned by a woman. After a few seconds, Sirius joined Nova in licking him, Charles was as happy as he can be.

"They are so friendly! Think I'll be able to stay the night?" Charles asked.

"I don't know, Char, you just joined F1, shouldn't you be training?" Y/N asked.

"I have a few days before the Monaco Grand Prix, do you want to come?" Charles asked.

"I don't know if I can leave Nova and Sirius alone." Y/N asked.

"It's only a few hours, please?" Charles asked with a pout and puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, I'll see if my neighbor can check in on them." Y/N said and her and Charles kissed.

A year later, 2019, Charles joined Scuderia Ferrari and he was on his way to Y/N's apartment after he rested a day after the Suzuka Grand prix. He opened the door with the key she gave him and he heard barking.

"Nova, Sirius, its me, you know me." Charles entered the apartment, the two German Shepherds greeted him but he still heard barking. Thats when he saw a bulldog on the couch with Y/N. "Amour, you got another dog?" Charles asked.

"Charlie! This is Hiccup, i got him on Saturday." Y/N said, getting to hug her boyfriend. "Isn't he adorable? He has a lot of health problems because of this breeder, but he is the sweetest. Come meet him." Y/N said, holding Charles's hand to lead him to the couch, sitting next to Hiccup.

"Why did you name him Hiccup?" Charles asked.

"I was watching How To Train Your Dragon, he also had a case of the hiccups when i was...como se dice, revisando...checking him! Yeah, during his checkup, he was hiccupping." Y/N said. Charles pet the bulldog and the bulldog smiled, seemingly happy getting affection.

"He is very cute, but I don't think you'll have space for another dog, mon petit chou." Charles said.

"Hiccup wanted to be with me, he wouldn't let the other shelter workers walk him, just me, it was a sign, Charles." Y/N said.

"I'm sure it was." Charles said smiling. "I'm hungry, do you want to order something?"

"Can you manage ordering Chinese food? I have to give the dogs their bath." Y/N said.

"Sure, mon ange. Same as usual?" Charles asked.

"Yes please. Lets go guys, time for your bath." Y/N said and the dogs walked slowly behind her, not being a fan of baths.

Another year later, December 2020, Charles and Y/N now live together in his penthouse apartment. One day, Charles went with Y/N to her job since he was on winter break.

"Charlie, can you check if Shaggy needs his bowl to be filled?" Y/N asked.

"Sure, amour." Charles said, He was walking through the shelter until he found the gate with the name 'Shaggy' and he saw a fluffy old English sheepdog. "Hello, Shaggy." Charles said hello to the dog and Shaggy started barking, wagging his tail. Charles went to the supply closet to get the bag of dog food, Y/n bought the brand that was specifically for this breed and pour the food in Shaggy's bowl.

"Shaggy looks very happy." Y/N said appearing next to him. Thats when Shaggy started whining and pawing at her through the gate. "Hi Shaggy, como está mi perrito consentido?" Y/N asked in the baby voice, Shaggy lies on his back, showing that he is ready to receive belly rubs. Charles just observes this interaction.

"Are you going to adopt him, mon ange?" Charles asked.

"I would love to adopt him, but it's your apartment." Y/N said.

"Mon ange, it is your apartment too, I asked you to move in with me, it is your apartment too. We can get him, think of it as a Christmas gift." Charles said and Y/N hugged him.

"Can you fill out the adoption papers? I need to check up on a few cats in the other room. Wish me luck." Y/N said.

"Did you take your allergy medicine?" Charles asked. Y/N shook her head no.

"Thats why i need luck." Y/N said. She went with the cats while Charles filled out the adoption papers for Shaggy, since most people in Monaco want small dogs and the other shelter workers know Charles is doing this for Y/N, the process was easy and they were able to take Shaggy home the same day. When they left Shaggy went with Y/N to buy things he needs while Charles went to buy food for the both of them. Charles got home first and he said hello to Nova, Sirius, and Hiccup, place his takeout on the kitchen counter, and refilled their food and water bowls. Charles washed his hands to serve himself good and that’s when Charles heard the door open and he saw Y/N with dog food, a dog bed, and some new toys.

“Mom Ange, I could have helped you.” Charles said, getting the bed from her and placing it on the living room. “Why does he need new toys?”

“It’s why I do for every dog, Charlie, they get new toys, they only share when they want to, it makes them feel important and that they have a permanent home.” Y/N explained to Charles. “Okay Shaggy, meet your brothers and sister.” Y/N let Shaggy off his leash and all the dogs began sniffing each other. After they got acquainted, they started playing with each other, even sharing some toys.

“Come on, mon coeur, your food will get cold, it’s time to eat.” Charles said and Y/N went to wash her hands after seeing the dogs are getting along great. She sat down to eat.

“Muñeco, do you ever think about getting a bigger place?” Y/N asked.

“Eventually, yes. That way we can raise our future children.” Charles said.

2 years later, 2022, Charles and Y/N now have a huge villa on Monaco after they got married with enough room for their dogs to run around in the grass and a pool. In those 2 years, Y/N adopted 3 more dogs; a border collie, a Carin terrier mix, and an Australian shepherd. Charles was watching TV with their 7 dogs when the door opened and it revealed Y/N with a Euraiser dog, Charles stared at her and Y/N smiled.

“His name is Koda, his owner just abandoned him like straight up went to the shelter and dropped him off, no good reason, no toys for him specifically, nothing. Me dio cosa, Charlie, like you have no idea." Y/N said and since her eyes were tearing up, he got up to hug her.

“My love, I know you love dogs, and I love that about you, you have a big heart, but no more dogs.” Charles said, wiping her tears. Kids barked and Charles looked at him, Koda had his tongue out like he was smiling with his tail wagging. “Nice to meet you Koda, welcome to the family, meet your brothers and sisters.” Charles said. Koda ran to the other dogs. “Don’t be fooled by the size, Mickey is in charge.”

Koda was very happy with his new family. He was playing with Bailey and Bambi very politely using toys but full on wrestling with Sirius, he was very content. Mickey and Hiccup were just observing on their dog beds while Nova chewed on a treat.

“Promise me no more dogs, Y/N.” Charles said, cupping her face.

“I promise no more dogs, muñeco.” Y/N said.

And Y/N kept good on her promise, she was completely devoted to their 8 dogs, taking them to work sometimes for checkups, and it was all going well until.

Present day, 2024, Y/N was checking a Saint Bernard as a full fledged Shelter Veterinarian.

“Rebecca, where did you get the Saint Bernard? It has worms and I’m afraid he was in the same transport van as the pitbull mixes, I need to check them too.” Y/N said, lowering the Saint Bernard and giving him an oral medication to deworm him.

“He was around Nice.” Rebecca answered.

“Interesting. Have the pitbulls been showing symptoms of having worms?” Y/N asked.

“They are relatively chill, I’ll check them right now though.” Rebecca said. Moments later, another employee named Freddie came in with a dog crate.

“You guys won’t believe what I just found by the docks.” Freddie said.

“Why were you by the docks?” Rebecca asked.

“No reason, but look at this.” Freddie entered the vet exams room with Rebecca and Y/N and opened the crate.

“Oh my god, that’s a pregnant yorkie, who would throw a pregnant dog on the streets?” Y/N asked, petting the yorkie. “Looks like she has fleas too.”

“I’ll take care of her, your shift is over. I’ll give you updates on the yorkie.” Rebecca said.

“Thanks, I’ll come in tomorrow.” Y/N said, she said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

When she got home, she saw all her dogs playing in the yard but as soon and they saw her, they stopped playing and ran towards her.

“Hola mis bebés!” Y/N exclaimed, petting every single dog. She got their leashes to take all of them out for a walk so they're not cooped up in one area, no matter how big it is. They walked around Monaco, some children wanted to pet the dogs, other people took photos or videos of Y/N walking the dogs, the dogs were very well behaved and nonreactive, Y/N couldn't be more grateful. She walked back home, let the dogs off their leash, and washed their paws before they stepped foot inside the house.

Charles was away for the Imola Grand Prix and he said he was going to call Y/N when she got out of work. Just like he said, Y/N's laptop started ringing, she washed her hands and answere the video call.

"Hola guapo! How's Imola?" Y/N asked.

"It's good, I'm tired of press, you know? Sometimes they ask the same questions and I can't deal with it." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, mi vida." Y/N said.

"It's fine, darling. How are the babies?" Charles asked.

"Very good, I went to that bakery where they make pastries for dogs and they loved it. I'm going to look up recipes so I can bake it for them. My babies deserve the best." Y/N said and Bambi jumped in her lap. "yes Bambi, you're my baby." Y/N saod, petting the Australian shepherd. "As a kid i always wanted one, their coloring is beautiful, and now i have one. I know we can't bring all the dogs to the Monaco Paddock, but do you think we can take Mickey?" Y/N asked.

"What happened to treating the dogs equally?" Charles asked.

"Then can we bring all of them? I want them to know where their dad works. I also really want them to meet Roscoe, we can just hang around, I'll keep them entertained, also who wouldnt want to see dogs before practice or qualifying? Like come on." Y/N said.

"Y/N.." Charles warned.

"Okay fine, our children won't see where you work, but it is unfair, they're going to be all alone in the house." Y/N said.

"Yeah, with a dog sitter who will feed and play with them, walk them, and the dogs have the entire property to run around. I bought the villas so you wouldn't have to worry about the dogs as much and you worry about the same." Charles said,

"I can't help it, they're innocent creatures." Y/N said, hugging Bambi tightly and Bambi liked her face. "Look at her Charles, no thoughts behind those eyes."

"Alright my dear, I have to go, I love you." Charles said.

"I love you too." Y/N said and hung up her FaceTime and thats when she got a call from Rebecca. "Hey Rebecca, whats up?"

"Hey, so the mama yorkie is about 8 weeks along in her pregnancy, she seems healthy, but I am going to give her a diet for pregnant dogs, make sure shes getting a lot of protein and calcium for the last week of her pregnancy to make sure the birth goes smoothly." Rebecca said.

"Thanks for everything, you are the best." Y/N said and hung up. She made her dinner, making a small dog safe version for them of course, what kind of owner would she be if she didn't?

A week later, it was the Monaco free practice 3 and qualifying session, she was in the paddock with Charles since he just finished the free practice.

"You did great, guapo, I'm positive you'll make pole." Y/N said, kissing him.

"Thanks, mon ange, I just really want to win my home race and i'll have a better shot of winning if i make pole." Charles said.

"And you will, baby." Y/N said. She felt her phone vibrate and saw Freddie was calling. "Freddie, what's going on?"

"The mom is going into labor, we need you here, please! I'm still just an assistant!" Freddie panicked.

"Alright I'm coming, did she start nesting in her kennel?" Y/N asked.

"She's arranging chew toys and blankets." Freddie said.

"Okay, try your best to get her into the whelping box, I'm on my way now." Y/N hung up. "I'm sorry, mi vida, I need to deliver puppies, good luck on qualifying." Y/N kissed him goodbye and ran to her car, drove off to the shelter, and went to Nani's kennel, where she was in stage 1 of labor. "How long has she been like this?"

"About 2 hours." Rebecca answered.

"Alright, we just have to wait a little while, she should start dilating in about 4 or 10 10 hours." Y/N said.

They waited those hours and Nani succesfully whelped 4 puppies, 3 boys and one girl. Y/N helped getting the puppies out of the amniotic saca and cut the umblical cord to make the processs easier for Nani. She cleaned and rubbed the puppies until she heard them cry out, once they cried, she put them near Nani. Now Nani was feeding the puppies.

"Alright team, in 8 weeks those puppies could be adopted. Hopefull the mom will be adopted as well. Goodnight, I'm going home." Y/N said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

Once home, Y/N saw Charles in the living room watching 101 Dalmations.

"Ma belle, how did the delivery go?" Charles asked, pausing the movie.

"The mom delivered 4 healthy puppies, I couldn't be happier. How was qualifying?" Y/N asked.

"I got pole." Charles said. Y/N screamed in excitement and hugged him.

"i am so proud of you, we should get ice cream or go out to eat, I am starving, i didn't eat." Y/N said.

"Then lets go out, ma belle, I'll go call to see if they can prepare something so it'll be ready when we get there, I'll wait for you to change." Charles said and Y/N kissed him.

"You are the best boyfriend ever." Y/N said.

8 weeks went by and in those 8 weeks, Y/N grew extremely close to Bubbles, the female puppy from Nani's litter. Right now, she was carrying Bubbles, comforting her after her first vaccine.

"Rebecca, he is going to kill me." Y/N said.

"What makes you say that?" Rebecca asked.

"He literally told me that I couldn't get anymore dogs. What do you think he is going to say when he comes home from Hungary and sees her on my lap?" Y/N said, holding Bubble in front of Rebecca's face. Bubbles licked Rebecca's nose.

"Aww come on, who would be mad at a little yorkie?" Rebecca cooed. "Its not like you're bringing home a Saint Bernard, or a Rottweiler."

"Rottweilers are so cute, I would absolutely bring one home if i could." Y/N said.

"You just have to make it seem like getting a puppy isn't the worst thing in the world." Rebecca said, giving the other puppies Chip, Mikey, and Donnie, their first vaccines. Y/N started thinking.

"I got it! I'll make him believe i am having an affair." Y/N said.

"Y/N, that's a little crazy even for you." Rebecca said.

"But it's perfect! I just need to set it up perfectly. Today is Friday, right?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, why?" Rebecca asked.

"I am not cruel enough to make him worry during the important race events like qualifying or the actual race, during free practice should be fine." Y/N said before she sent the text 'Call me tonight at 8, we need to talk' and she showed it to Rebecca.

"Good luck with that." Rebecca said. Y/N filled out the adoption papers for Bubbles and bought everything a puppy needed, she carried Bubble everywhere because until she has all her Parvo vaccines, she is not touching the ground. Bubbles was wrapped in a blanket and was brought home. When she entered the house, all the dogs came up to her.

"Hello everyone, we have a new member joining the family, her name is Bubbles, everyone, be gentle." Y/N said, emphasizing gentle. She lowered Bubbles a little so everyone had the chance to sniff her. They all went their separate ways. Y/N got a text from Charles. 'What do we need to talk about?' Y/N responded 'It is crucial to our marriage that we talk.' She wants to worry him a little. Y/N had already established and good feeding schedule with her, she just needs to adjust her potty spot. When she checked that this is the time she usually does her business in the shelter, she took her outside and let her pee on the patch of grass thats near the pool. When she was done, Bubbles trotted right to Y/N and Y/N picked her up, giving her little kisses. Thats when she heard her laptop ring.

"It's show time." Y/N said, placing Bubbles on the couch with her blanket. "Watch her." Y/N told Nova and Nova moved to the couch, keeping her eyes on the puppy. Y/N answered the FaceTime.

“Petit Chou, what’s wrong? What do we need to talk about? Can’t it wait until I’m home?” Charles asked.

“No no, I have to tell you know, the guilt is eating me alive.” Y/N said, getting teary eyed, if she wants Charles to believe she had an affair, she really has to sell it.

“Mon coeur, you can tell me anything, what happened?” Charles asked, sounding very worried.

“This isn’t easy for me to say, I love you so much, you have to know that, but my job has me very stressed, I feel like I don't have a life outside of work because you are always traveling and I work late sometimes, we are like two passing ships. Please, have mercy on me, understand where I am coming from, I get so lonely when you're not here.” Y/N finished saying and she covered her face, just waiting to hear Charles’s reaction.

“Please don’t tell me you got another dog.” Charles said and Y/N uncovered her face.

“How did you know I adopted another dog?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I know you, you would never cheat on me.” Charles said.

“I could have.” Y/N argued.

“You love me too much.” Charles argued back.

“You didn’t believe me?” Y/N asked.

“Not at all.” Charles said.

“Oh come on, that was phenomenal acting, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said.

“I think you overdid it.” Charles said.

“Well i acted better than you did for that Shell commercial.” Y/N said.

“Forget about it, can i see the dog? Did you get a big one?” Charles said. Y/N moved off screen to pick up the yorkie.

“Actually she’s a little puppy, I named her Bubbles, apparently this awful person put her dog out on the street because she was pregnant so the mama yorkie was actually with us for a while, i supervised the birth, i was bonding with the mom and her litter, but i guess this one really liked me and she would seek me out. Isn’t she adorable?” Y/N said, putting Bubbles closer to the screen so Charles can see her in all her glory.

“She is adorable, can’t wait to meet her.” Charles said,

“Im so excited for you to meet her too! This is the first time we can raise a puppy together, i can take her with me to work for her vaccines, we need a lot of bonding time with her. I honesty hope the other yorkies get adopted though, they’re so cute! I would adopt them all if I could.” Y/N confessed.

“I know you would. Please let Bubble be the final dog, I really mean it this time, Y/N." Charles said.

"Okay, okay, i promised Bubbles will be our last dog...for now." Y/N said.

"Y/N!" Charles shouted.

"Okay okay, te lo juro juradito por las haditas that Bubbles will be our last dog." Y/N said.

"That's more like it." Charles said.

"So how was free parctice?" Y/N asked Charles, placing Bubbles on her lap, giving her a small chew toy since she's teething.

"Well what happened was..." Charles said.

The End

Hope y'all liked it! I know the buildup was VERY long but i wanted to show you how much Y/N loved dogs.

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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theoldsports · 2 days

Text

SOUR.

Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words

it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.

warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.

“Art?”

“Nngh.”

“Artie, wake up.”

“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.

“I don’t like this storm.”

What a sign that storm should have been.

Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”

“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”

Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”

“No.”

Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.

“I don’t see what this has to do with—“

“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”

“You breathing.”

“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”

[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”

“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”

“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”

Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.

It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.

[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.

“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.

“What’s today?”

“Patrick’s in town.”

Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.

“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”

Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”

“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”

“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”

[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.

“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”

“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.

“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”

“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.

And they would have stayed like that all day.

They would have.

BANG BANG BANG.

Like gunshots.

Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.

“Patrick.” They both said.

With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Pretty baby!”

“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”

BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.

“Art!”

“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”

[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”

“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.

[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.

The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.

And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.

Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.

Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.

Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.

[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.

When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.

Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.

“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.

“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.

“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.

“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.

Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].

“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.

Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M

“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.

“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.

“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.

Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.

Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?

[Y/N] had a sedan.

She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.

“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.

He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”

Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.

“I’m good enough to take the hit.”

[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“

“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”

“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“

“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“

“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”

[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”

“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.

[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?

[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”

“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.

“Not with Art.”

“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”

“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.

Patrick scratched his right forearm again.

“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.

“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.

“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.

Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.

“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.

Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“

“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.

Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.

“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.

“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.

The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.

[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”

Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.

And he went out through the bathroom window.

[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.

[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.

[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.

“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.

“Patrick’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“Patrick’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone.”

“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.

“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.

“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.

Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.

“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. And then?”

“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.

“Hey, call me.”

“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”

“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”

“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”

“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”

“Don’t come back.”

Eventually, the voicemail box was full.

[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”

“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”

Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.

“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.

“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.

Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.

[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”

“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.

[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”

“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”

“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.

Wife was all Art heard and he melted.

“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.

“They don’t talk.”

“I know. Just in case he turns up.”

Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.

Patrick was gone.

But Art was there for all of it.

TAGLIST:

@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #sorry series #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig

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macfrog · 2 days

Text

backspin | bbf!frankie

surprise! we're taking a quick detour to fuck around with our brother's best friend again. what else is new.

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x fem!reader summary: you try to get even with frankie. it works. warnings: reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, enemies to lovers, mention of throwing up, alcohol consumption, cursing, oral, more dickhead frankie and more sassy reader word count: 6.3k

part one: rack 'em | main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

So, you fucked around with Frankie.

It’s no big deal, right? It was just a one-time thing. There was tension, you guys relieved it. Scratched an itch. Served a purpose. You still fucking hate the guy, and he still fucking hates you.

Nothing’s changed.

Right?

Mal sprays wine all over the kitchen table when you tell her. Gargles a, Sorry – fuck – sorry, through what little of the alcohol is left in her mouth.

You wipe your face clean in the crook of your elbow. It’s in your fucking eyelashes. You blink the room back into focus, and – “Jesus, Mal!”

Dark droplets teeter around the edge of the table, threatening to plunge straight down onto your mom’s chair cushions – thus damning you to her very own personal hell for all eternity. You can feel the flames licking at your feet already.

Your best friend rips a sheet of paper towel and drags it over the wood – white bleeding violet at the first swipe. “Why’d you tell me as I was taking a sip?”

“I didn’t think you’d fucking hose me down,” you hiss, taking the soaked crumple from her hands.

“You didn’t think I’d be a little surprised that you and Catfish Morales hooked up? Are you fucking ser–? Actually, you know what? I’m not that surprised.”

You glare at her from the sink, upper lip curled.

Mallory Bennett has been privy to your every thought since you were six years old. Hand in hand, arms swinging as you marched into first grade together.

Most days, you barely have to open your mouth – one flinching expression, one flash of eye contact, and she can parrot your own thoughts back to you.

Francisco Morales going down on you two nights ago is the first thing you’ve ever had to confess to her. It’s the first thing she never saw coming.

“Shut up,” you breathe, eventually thawing and sweeping over to your chair. The table sticks to your arms when you sit back down.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, alright? A lot of tension. I mean, you gotta fuckin’ feel it. You two hate each other’s guts! And you’re both single, and you’re only here for two weeks. And – he’s Santi’s best friend. It’s just…it’s the perfect storm.”

Another exasperated sigh passes your lips. You settle back, eyes closed, and lift your palm. “Enough. I’ve heard enough.”

“You wouldn’t’ve told me if you didn’t wanna talk about it. Was he good?”

“Mal.”

“Was he?”

“I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.” Her face screws up; the gold hoops wobble from her ears. “Like hell you don’t remember. Tell me.”

Your eyes slip from her over to Ange. The old pup pushes herself to her feet with a huff, her joints stiff and bones frail. She moseys over to your side. You scratch the back of the dog’s neck, shrugging to Mal.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way to a free round of drinks, I’d remember enough to share.”

“Fuck you,” she snorts, voice rounded by her wine glass. “Maybe that just means you gotta do it again – sober.”

You scoff.

Angie looks up at you – watery eyes blinking, tail slowly fanning.

Mal’s already recounting the time Frankie snitched on the two of you for raiding your mom’s makeup bag. She waves her hands in the air, eyes bulging.

Do it again. The thought actually makes you want to laugh.

You and Frankie – you and Catfish, hooking up again. As if the first time wasn’t a total mishap, the biggest mistake in judgement you think you’ve ever made.

He drove you home, he made you come, he left.

One nil, right? You have one up on him. You got yours, and he probably went home and jerked off to the thought of it. Alone in his room, tongue licking at the corners of his mouth where he could still taste your release.

You won.

You won, against Frankie Morales.

“…and then fuckin’ – Pope tried to help us tidy it up, remember? He was scrubbing the hell outta the lipstick on the mirror. But that asshole – Frankie,” she seethes, “he went downstairs as soon as your mom came home. As soon as she…And he fucking ratted!”

She growls, balls her fists. Screws her eyes tight shut like the enraged eight-year-old she was back then. She still has the same little crease between her brows. “What the hell got into you that night? We hate him, junior!”

Ange slumps to the floor with a sigh.

“Me too, girl,” you mutter to her, twirling the base of your glass. You look back up at the crazed woman opposite. “I don’t know,” you insist. “I was drunk, we were on our own…It just happened, alright?”

Her shoulders roll in a shrug. She lifts her glass to clink the neck of the bottle against the rim, purple wine spilling in a swirl. “Maybe it’s the start of something.”

You scoff. “Mal. Come on.”

“I’m serious. Perfect storm.”

“Nope. No storm. Stop that.”

She jabs a tipsy finger in your direction. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you messed around with your arch fucking menesis– arch fucking…with – with Frankie, and you just – still feel nothing for him?”

“No,” you admit, “I feel plenty for him. I hate his fucking guts. I used to wish every birthday that he’d disappear. One time in church, when Father Joseph told everybody to bow their heads ‘n pray, I actually asked God to kill him for me.”

“Not Father Joseph!” Mal shrieks, grinning. “He was so fucking hot, by the way, for a dude with no hair. When the sunlight caught that cueball just right…that was a real fucking miracle. Goddamn.”

You bat her snicker away. “Me and Frankie used to brawl so bad that our moms had to separate us,” you continue. “I had to sit in the front seat if we drove anywhere – and that still didn’t stop him! He’d reach around the headrest and flick my fucking ear.”

“You gave as good as you got, though. I’m surprised he can even still get hard, the number of times your foot…” She swings her leg and kicks your thigh softly. “He was an ass, I know.”

“He was an ass then, he’s still an ass now. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Mal concedes. Her dark, glossy hair surfs around the lip of her wine glass when she leans in. “But you wouldn’t’ve told me unless it was still on your mind. ‘s all I’m saying.”

You throw yourself back with a quick, angry shake of your head. Your tongue flicks over your top lip.

“All I’m saying,” she repeats, holding her hands up.

But I won, you think – in a petulant little whine. Like you could shake your fists and stamp your feet at the same time. You got one up on him. He – he made you…

He made you come. He saw you. Felt you. Tasted you.

He knows what you sound like, whimpering his fucking name. Drunk on him, begging him not to stop. And now, the image of him fisting his cock over the memory of it feels less like a victory, and more like –

Another fucking loss.

You have no idea what he looks like, coming undone. No clue what his fragmented moans sound like as they tear from the bottom of his throat and rain down over you. You don’t know the weight of him in your hands, the wet slip of his tip as he leaks over your tongue.

Mal’s onto something new. Taken by a Facebook post from some girl you went to high school with. Biggest head I ever saw on a fucking baby, she mutters, wincing and then sprinkling a handful of salted peanuts on her tongue.

Frankie’s cocky smirk clouds over the sight of her at the opposite end of your kitchen table.

Francisco fucking Morales. The asshole wins again.

All at once, you hear his rotten little jeers in your ear – curbed painfully by his middle finger searing across your lobe. You feel his heavy palm on your skull, fingers scrunching roughly into your scalp.

A temper boils between your ears, heavy over your head. It feels juvenile, as if it’s armed with a Barbie in one fist and a juice box in the other. Sunken and wallowing in shame and rage, red-hot waves which wash over you as Mal cackles at some video on her phone.

You feel Frankie’s hands around your legs; the flicks of his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. The swarm of butterflies deep in your belly as you watched his figure swagger back across the street to his truck.

Loss after loss after loss. Each one wearing a satisfied smirk and a Standard Oil baseball cap.

Each one staining deeper than red wine in varnished oak.

You grit your teeth.

Frankie –

fucking –

Morales.

Santi floats the idea of a barbecue. Because of course he fucking does.

He says his place is too small, too many neighbors in earshot – and as long as Ms. Teller takes both hearing aids out, she won’t even know it’s happening.

“Just the guys ‘n us,” he chirps. “You, me, Will, Benny…Fran-kie…?”

You gag down the line. Body instinct whenever his name is mentioned, worsened by the latest developments in your relations. Ange glances up from her spot beneath the oak tree – her milky fur stark against the velvet green grass.

Santi chokes on a laugh. “Mal, too, if that helps with the Catfish thing.”

You lean the phone on your collarbone, sitting forward to apply a second coat of polish to your toes. The red gloss shines in the early morning light. “He is not welcome in my house.”

“First off: not your house. Second –”

“My house for the next eleven days.”

He says your name flatly. It sounds like a door being slammed. It shuts you up as though you’re nine again. “…Second: he won’t be in the house. He’ll be in the backyard.”

“You owe me,” you protest. “For ditching me the other night. I’m cashing in, Santiago. You want a cookout? No Frankie.”

Your brother sighs. “And how am I supposed to explain that to him, hermana?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Santi mutters something incoherent, though you know from the razor-sharp tone of voice that it’s no compliment. Still – he’s a man of his word.

Eventually he agrees: no Frankie at the barbecue.

The store is chilly, plucking goosebumps along your arms.

You round the aisles, scanning your list. You’ve been battling with a janky front wheel which has squealed and veered off-course at every fucking turn. It almost mowed over an elderly woman in the meat aisle.

You’ve cleared most of what Santi told you to get. Drinks, ice, buns, meat, corn on the cob. He wanted to use Mom’s dinner plates – but that, you countered, runs the risk of them being scraped, chipped, or worst of all, smashed.

That’s not a risk you’re willing to take. So you’ve piled in some paper plates and plastic cutlery, too – just to be on the safe side.

The cashier cuts a familiar figure at the checkout: her navy apron and full-cheek grin. She’s a staple sight from your childhood – a pair of dimples and sweet giggle trailing after you as you’d follow your mom’s skirt back out to the parking lot.

Her eyes widen and she clasps her hands when she notices you approaching. “Well, would you look who it is?” she sings.

“Hey, Pol,” you say, fanning yourself with your scrawled shopping list. “How you doing?”

The belt jolts your supplies closer to her bejeweled fingers.

“Same as always, honey. Rockin’ and rollin’. What brings you back to town?”

“Housesitting, dog-sitting…Santi-sitting. Mom and Dad are on a cruise.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding. “She told me last week. Caribbean, right?”

You nod, sucking a deep, unenthused breath in.

Pol hums, smiling to herself as she clicks the barcode for your hotdogs into her computer. She begins telling you what her granddaughter thinks of second grade – her two times table and the tadpoles they’re keeping in class.

Your eyes sweep around the store as she chats. Everything looks the way it always did, a time capsule from the nineties. Speckled floor and fluorescent lights; placards hanging overhead which sway each time the great glass doors pull open.

Baskets of fruit and veg lined alongside a lawn set on offer. Beside that, heaps of flowers and stacked planters. Beside those, a discarded shopping cart. And beside that –

Frankie fucking Morales.

Well – the silhouette of him. It’s pretty bright outside. But you’d recognize the outline of that dumb baseball cap anywhere. He’s talking to one of the assistants.

You hand Pol the cash Santiago gave you, and she trades it for a receipt. Dumping your bags back into your cart, you nod to her in thanks and stalk off towards the sliding doors.

Frankie tosses and twirls a pack of cigarettes in his hand. The assistant is telling him about some big college football game.

Your grip tightens on the janky-wheeled cart. You feel your skin begin to heat; prickling all over your arms, flushing down between your shoulder blades. Gathering somewhere south of there.

But you walk by him with purpose, choosing to ignore that warm feeling. Choosing to ignore…him.

He doesn’t turn. Thankfully.

The doors grant you exit and you give your cart one good shove across the threshold, back out into blinding daylight and sticky heat.

“Alright, man,” Frankie’s voice calls from behind. “Good talkin’ to ya.”

You nail your eye on the car. It’s, like, fifteen paces. You can make it fifteen steps without having to deal with him, right? If you take longer strides, it’s probably more like ten.

Ten steps, and then you’re in the sanctuary of your car. You don’t have to see, speak to, or deal with him.

So why are you slowing down?

You’re slowing down. You are. You’re borderline fucking loitering. Quietly hoping he’ll notice, catch up, maybe talk to –

You click the unlock button. The car beeps in response.

Five steps out. The front wheel is rattling. You’re doing your best to ignore it.

Four.

Three.

The wheel spins, flitting like a confused compass needle, and stops dead in the opposite direction. The cart hurtles out of your grip for less than a second before you recover it and haul it close to your car, cursing under your breath.

But a force – stronger, steadier – reaches around your body and takes hold of the thing. It guides it back to course. A force which, when it speaks, sounds a shit ton like –

“Woah, lil Santi,” Frankie mutters, and your chest leaps.

You freeze in your tracks. His weight is still around your back. He’s right fucking there, when you turn to look.

The brim of his cap bumps against your head. He steps back with a smirk on his face. He’s so fucking smug, you could slap him. “You tryna cause a goddamn accident with that thing?”

You pull a disingenuous smile. “Hey, Fish. Ever tried minding your own business?”

He feigns a wounded sound and clutches his chest. “Ouch. I’m just looking out for ya.”

“Feels more like you’re pestering me.” You pull on the door handle and slot the first bag along the backseat.

Frankie lifts his chin, peering in at the contents. The star-spangled plated, the dripping bags of ice. “Having a party?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You yank the bag from his sight, spinning to push it alongside the others. “Nope.”

He crosses his arms. “Sure looks like you’re having one.”

“Well, I’m not.” You slam the door and turn back to him, staring blankly.

“Forgot,” he sniffs, “you need friends to have a party.”

“Hilarious. Those shit jokes how you make all your friends?”

He nods, impressed. Pouts his lips like an annoying little fish. Suits his stupid fucking nickname. “Then why’d Benny call ‘n ask if I’ll be at Pope’s parents’ tonight?”

Shit. Fucking – Benny.

You sigh, eyes rolling closed. Your fingers massage your temples. “It’s not…it’s…”

“Cookout, right? Yeah. That stings, baby. No call, no text. You owe me, remember?”

“I owe you jack sh–”

“Two drinks,” Frankie clips, holding a finger up to shush you. “Three, if you count saving your car from one hell of a scratch.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and then give voice to, “It’s a small gathering of friends, and – now you, apparently.”

He sways forward, bumping the cart into your hip. “You need me to bring anything?”

You heave it straight back at him, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tranquilizer gun, if you’ve got one.”

“Can get something even stronger, if it’s a party you’re after.”

Your eyes thin. “Wouldn’t be my mom’s favorite for much longer if she found out you were doing coke in her backyard.”

Frankie smiles. That trademark Catfish grin. “I’ve done worse in her kitchen, baby.”

He’s so goddamn cocky. So full of it, it makes you want to scream. He studies you, eyes shadowed by his cap. His hair flicks out around his ears, dark curls doused in golden sunlight.

When your eyes trace the shape of his jaw, the wiry hair above his top lip – the faint flicker of a memory glows across your skin.

The weight of his hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. The bristling feeling ghosting the inside of your thighs. Your desperate wet, his tongue covering ground across your body like claiming territory.

Every shade of wrong. Ignoring every atom in your body – betraying every version of yourself for ten minutes of euphoria. He brought every numb nerve under your skin to attention, the second he knelt between your knees.

But he’s looking at you now, the same way he did the other night. It’s boyish and dangerous. A naked match just waiting to fall.

Maybe you’re waiting for an excuse to drop it.

Frankie gives his cap a quick tug, and makes off for his truck.

“See you at seven, Garcia.”

Daylight melts into dusk and with it, goes the sharp sting of summer. A pale blue rolls across the horizon, covering the yard in a hazy sort of chill. A relieving breeze, like satin over newly burned skin.

You’re still fucking sweating.

“Are you going to help me, or you just gonna lie there and text your girlfriend?” you call across the yard.

The dark figure spilling over the edge of the hammock grunts in response.

“Santi.”

Your brother groans, rolling free from the marigold fabric. He strides across the lawn, swinging an arm down to ruffle Ange’s ears. “Not a girlfriend,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “She’s…she’s more of a…”

You lift your hand. “Not something I need to know.”

He laughs and looks at the spread on the table. He lifts the corner of a tricolor napkin, straightens a plastic fork. The foil over the hamburger buns crinkles. “We did a good job. Looks great.”

“We?” You scoff, slapping his wrist away. “Yeah, me and the fucking dog, more like.”

“How much did it all come to? The food and shit?”

You shrug. “Like, forty dollars. I don’t know.”

“Gave you sixty. Where’s my change?”

You frown, hands on your hips. “If you don’t know how to budget properly, that’s not my problem.”

“And if you don’t know when to just lie and say you spent it all, that’s not mine. Twenty bucks, kid.” He holds his hand out, fingers beckoning.

The squeal of the gate interrupts, followed by a barrage of voices. Will and Benny and Mal and – as you lean back to watch them parade through the yard, you spot the figure of Frankie at their heels.

“Pope?” Will calls. “Pope, do me a favor. Remind me which one of us threw up at Busch Gardens that one time. Remember – right after we rode Gwazi?”

Santiago chuckles. “I remember Mallory wearing her raspberry slushie.”

Will guffaws in Mal’s face.

“I spit up!” she protests. “I spit up in a flowerbed. I was not wearing my slushie.”

“You were fluorescent pink the whole day,” Will says. He slings an arm around your shoulders. “You remember, lil Santi?”

You frown. Yeah, you fucking remember.

You remember being forced to sit between Frankie and Mal the entire way home. Santiago got dibs on the front seat by pretending he was carsick, and Mal had to sit by an open window so she didn’t stink your dad’s car out with all her raspberry-flavored puke.

You and Frankie bickered the whole journey. Both absolutely certain that the other was leaning too far over your seats. Your dad vowed he’d never let you both in his car at the same time, ever again.

“Mhm,” you grit, shooting daggers at your best friend.

She mouths a Sorry, and then places her salad bowl in the middle of the table. “Enough about throwing up. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

The boys spend twenty minutes arguing over how the barbecue works, before a single bit of food is cooked. You and Mal watch from the table, sneaking Ange slices of cheese and giggling when Will and Benny break into their fifth argument of the night.

Santi and Frankie take charge, shoving the brothers out of the way.

Pope passes over the meat, while Frankie mans the grill. He lifts his cap and wipes his brow with his bicep, giving his head a shake as he flips burgers and turns sausages.

And no, you’re not watching him. You’re focused on Mal and her story about some guy from work. Or – it might be a guy from her yoga class. The instructor, maybe? You’re not sure. Frankie just flapped the collar of his shirt and the hem lifted, exposing a sliver of his tummy.

You’re not watching him, though.

He runs his tongue along his top lip, focusing on the sizzle and spatter of the grill. His arm tenses, turning the tongs over and over. Wide shoulders stretch when he reaches for a plate.

He’s laughing quietly at whatever Santi’s babbling about at his side. His eyes are stuck on the barbecue in front of him. His fingers twirl around the tongs again. He never looked so lean and so broad and so fucking different, all at once.

Weird different. Good different?

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. This time, it’s not so much anger, as it is –

Oh, shit.

Mal gets up for a refill at the same time Santiago jogs inside to grab more meat. You and Frankie are alone on the patio – Will and Benny are kicking a ball for Ange to chase on the grass.

Morales turns, and you instantly stare down at your beer. You take a forceful swig as he approaches.

“Hotdog?” he asks, holding a plate down to you.

“Huh?”

He glares at you and scoffs. “Are you dumb? Hotdog.” He slips it onto the table in front of you.

You squint at the grill marks, and then squint up at Frankie. Puzzled and…offended, at the same time. You come back to your body with a jolt. “Why the hell are you–? Have you laced it with something?”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, tongue between his teeth. “No, I haven’t fucking laced it with anything. I just figured you should have the first one, since you put all this on for us. But – Jesus, give me it.”

Your fingers lock around the paper plate when he tries to steal it back. For all that he’s a dick and might actually try to poison you – you’re fucking starving.

You figure you can stomach the poison.

Frankie sighs. He lets go. “I’m tryna be nice, alright? You know nice?”

“I know nice. You’re not it.”

“Shut up and eat your hotdog, lil Santi.”

You mimic him in a squeak as he strolls off, shaking his head. Still, the second he’s back at the grill, you rip into the hotdog.

Frankie stays at the opposite end of the table for the entire meal – closest seat to the barbecue, and furthest seat from you. There’s too much chatter, too much hilarity being thrown back and forth between you for either of you to kick up a row.

Probably better for the guys’ sakes, but – you want to fucking row.

It’s like a hit, now. A rush of electricity, any time Frankie looks at you for longer than it takes his face to twist into a grimace. You’re hunting for ways to ignite something – anything. Looking for an excuse to drop that naked match and set the whole thing alight.

Because it’s fun, when you’re in the heat of it. Feeling his eyes on you, as hot and angry as flames. Being suffocated by the smoke of it all; breathing in less and less air and more…him.

And, anyway – who knows you better than the one person who pisses you off the most?

As the sun is snuffed by the heavy hand of dusk, you disappear to a quieter corner of the yard. Tucked between two thick beech trees, you throw yourself into the hammock – one leg draped over the side, swinging idly through the night air.

A beer bottle balanced on your tummy, the round base seeping a chilled ring into your shirt. The swish of leaves overhead and the annoying midges at your ears for company.

That is – until the sound of footsteps over crisp grass, and the creak of an old, splintered garden chair disturb your peace.

Frankie adjusts his cap, flatting his fringe beneath it, and sits back. “You never change, do you, Garcia? Still the same little longer you always were.”

You hold your hands out, gulping back beer – and glee. “Can I fucking help you? I’m minding my own business.”

“Thought you might want some company.”

“Not yours, dickhead. You think I’m way the hell over here ‘cause I wanted you to come annoy me?”

He hums, picking at a flake of paint on the armrest. “Sure wanted me to annoy you the other night.”

“Alright,” you clip. “Cheap shot. You been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Since I saw you at the store.”

You roll your eyes.

Frankie slips a cigarette from its pack and lights it, tipping his chin to blow a white cloud to the sky. “You’re too much fun,” he tells the stars.

You squint through the dark, staring at the glowing cherry. “What?”

“You. You get so pissed, so easily. Always have.”

“Well, you antagonize me. Always have.”

His cheeks lift. It’s something softer than a smirk, still laced with too much attitude to be a smile. “That’s ‘cause you were always around. Everywhere Santi went, there you were. Closer than his shadow.”

“Well,” you glower, “’s what happens when you have a big brother. You’re void of love; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, I get it,” he says. “It just got fun to mess with you, after a while.”

“Uhuh,” you take another swig, “so is that what you’re doing? Messing with me?”

Frankie’s shoulders jump. “You tell me. There were two of us in your room that night.”

You swing your legs down to the grass. It’s brittle under your socks when you stand, still focusing on the end of his cigarette. “Damn, you really can’t shut up about it, can you? How many times have you tugged one to the thought of it?”

“Tugged one,” he snickers, but he seems nervous – watching as you approach. “What age are you?”

You push his knees wider, slotting between his thighs. “Which part does it for you? What sends you over the edge?”

“Come on, lil Santi,” Frankie says, averting his eye. “You’re embarrassing yourself now.”

One knee up, resting on the crease of his jeans. You lean forward and nudge his hip, lay your hands gently on his shoulders. “I bet you still hear me in your dreams.”

He scans up and down your body, lingering on your bare thigh. “Not – not gonna work, kid,” he promises, shaking his head. “You still annoy the fuck outta me.”

“Right, right.” You pinch the pale stick from between his teeth. “’cause nothing’s changed, yeah?”

His head sways in agreement. He’s distracted, watching as you lift your hand to your mouth.

You smile down at him. “’cept you know how I taste now, so.”

You slot the damp end of the cigarette between your lips and suck. Sharp, acrid heat sails over your tongue and down your throat, filling your chest in one inhale. You cough a little, batting the smoke as you blow it out.

“Tastes fucking disgusting,” you croak. “How can you smoke these?”

Frankie’s eyes never leave your lips. “You get used to it.”

You take another draw, letting the smoke soar through the space between you. “Gross,” you say, and prop the cig back between his lips. “Just like you!”

“Sh…shut up,” he groans, adjusting in his seat.

“Make me.”

But he doesn’t bite. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares back, rolling the smoldering stick between his thumb and finger. Running his tongue along his teeth.

You spill the last of your beer onto your tongue, cocking an eyebrow at him, and push from his lap.

You make it no more than five steps, before that same weight from the parking lot is around your shoulders.

He pings the cigarette somewhere in the grass, and grabs onto your elbow.

“Fran– Jesus – Where are we–?”

He drags you through the dull dusk to the other side of the lawn, ignoring the click of the motion sensor. You’re thrown through a wooden door onto cold concrete before the yard light floods over you.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Weak slivers of moonlight illuminate each tool hanging from the wall. The fairy lights outside lose their battle against the darkness the second they creep through the window.

Before you can sling something mocking at him, Frankie has you pinned against the wall.

“You want me to make you shut up?” he growls, teeth grazing your neck. His fingers slip behind the waist of your shorts, plucking at the button. “I’ll make you shut up. Make you shut up all goddamn night.”

“Frankie,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shirt. You push on his chest, walking him backwards over to the workbench.

The thing shudders when he rocks against it.

“The fuck are you doing?” he murmurs, watching as you kneel before him.

“Getting used to it,” you reply.

You pull his belt apart, loosen the fly on his pants, and pull until they’re low on his hips.

Frankie holds onto the bench with a white-knuckle grip. He lays his hand over the crown of your head, rubbing small circles. A laugh slips across his tongue. “This what you’ve been thinkin’ about?”

You ignore him, instead focusing on the solid shape in his underwear.

His hips flinch when you drag your palm along it. He’s hard already. He hisses at your cold fingers on his stomach, tensing as your knuckles skim below the elastic.

And then…he’s in your palm. All of him. Frankie fucking Morales.

You’re trying not to think too deep about it.

Your fingers wrap around him, barely meeting around his width, and you slip him from his boxers.

His cock springs free, swaying once, twice – then settling to the right.

Your mouth fills with saliva. Suddenly – there’s no way not to think too deep about it.

He’s…he’s big. He’s thick; smooth and sculpted, veins trailing around his shaft. It’s not like you ever considered what he’s walking around with before, but looking at it now – you can’t believe it’s him.

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss him all the way down to the hair at his base. A wet trail, lips curving around the size of him. You run your tongue up and down, circling the tip and toying with it.

Frankie cups your cheek. “Pretty little mouth,” he utters. “Put it to good use, huh?”

You don’t need him to ask twice.

You sink down on him. Every inch of him – every aching, choking inch. Your jaw slackens to take him; nails digging into his thighs when he bumps the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he hisses. His hand comes down on your head a little too heavily.

You yelp and pull back, gasping when he slips out. “Prick,” you breathe, closing your lips around his tip again.

“Just too sweet with it,” he murmurs, guiding himself back across your tongue.

You suckle on him, using your hands to pump the inches your mouth can’t take.

Frankie’s head tips back, panting at the roof. His hips thrust to meet your movements. “Feels so – goddamn – good,” he moans, and you hum with glee.

You take his balls in your hands, kneading them as you work your way lower. He’s so deep in your mouth that it makes your eyes water. Each slip of his tip against the back of your throat makes you gag, pulls a lewd, muffled sound from your chest.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be enjoying it this much. But he’s falling apart under your fingertips, he’s unwinding right before you. He’s whispering your name, begging you not to stop. Just like that, just like that, just like that. Oh, fuck, just like that.

It’s addictive. Now that you know how he looks, how he feels, you’ll never go back to before. When the most thrill he gave you was a burning temper; feeling your pulse jump in your throat with rage.

This – whatever the fuck this is – is all you know, now. Pulling threads from one another, watching the way they unravel. Watching each other unravel. Flashes of eye contact, salt and slick and sex dripping from every secret word.

Frankie’s hips jerk. His cock spasms.

You don’t want him to come down your throat. You don’t want him to climax when he’s too deep for you to taste it.

You want him all over – your lips, your tongue, dribbling down your chin. You want to mix him with your saliva and swallow; warm, salty, Frankie.

He got his taste. Now you want yours.

You bring your hands up to his thighs, purposefully pushing back off him.

His grip loosens, and he looks down. Brows low and close, eyes blown wide like he’s higher than any drug could take him.

He’s as addicted as you are.

“My mouth,” you mumble, head of his cock circling your glistening lips. “In my mouth.”

“Yeah?” he says, and the weight of his cock slaps on your bottom lip. “That where you want it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your lips back around him.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Frankie spits, laughing. “Shit – just like that. Yeah, that’s it.”

Three, four more soaking strokes of your tongue and he’s twitching again.

You pull back only enough to rest his tip on your tongue, feeling the pulsing heat as he comes. Watching the way his face tightens, the pull of his brows as it overcomes him.

His eyes stay locked on you. Your fluttering lashes, your puffy, glossy lips. He fills your mouth and then some – semen spilling from the corners and dribbling down your jaw. And the sound he makes – this broken, scattered moan, bordering on a fucking whimper – is fucking perfect.

Frankie’s hand locks at the base of your skull, holding you steady until he’s done. His cock slips from your bottom lip. He gives one last satisfied sigh, petting your head as you stroke him slowly, tenderly – swiping kitten licks at the dripping mess of him.

“Fuck,” he moans, letting his eyes close over. His weight slumps against the workbench. “The fuck do you spend so much time yapping for when you’re that good with your mouth?”

You hum in amusement, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. He’s softening, but still a decent size. Still a weight to it that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

One last little kiss, and you tuck him back into his boxers. You drag the back of your hand across your chin.

Frankie holds his hands out, and you pull yourself up. He fixes himself into his jeans, turning away to do up his belt. He had his cock in your throat two minutes ago, and here he is pretending to be shy.

He turns back around, half disappeared to the dark shed. “I, uh…I don’t want you to think that I came here just to…just for that.”

Your tongue dabs at the inside of your cheek, all salty. “Then this is awkward, ‘cause that’s the only reason I hadn’t kicked you out yet.”

He laughs, dropping your gaze. “You…” he shakes his head, “…are such a little shit, you know that?”

It’s nicer than he would’ve worded it half an hour ago. But still – having an exchange with Frankie that doesn’t involve spitting insults or jagged glares, warms your blood in a way that’s new and…unsettling.

“We should probably…” You toss a thumb over your shoulder, eyes flitting to the string bulbs outside. “We don’t want them wondering what’s…you know.”

He nods and strides over to the door. The wood squeals against concrete as he pulls it open.

The summer swirls around you again, sweetening the stuffy heat of the shed. Mal’s voice surfs through the breeze – she’s still arguing over the Busch Gardens story.

You make to step out, and Frankie’s arm halts you.

He opens his palm. “Even,” he tells you. “We’re even.”

He seems sure of himself. Sure of you. He looks you in the eye and doesn’t blink.

You smirk. Your hand slips into his, letting him shake your fist once. You stare straight back at him.

“We’re just getting fucking started, Francisco.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #bbf!frankie #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 day

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Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : reader is pregnant ; Hyunjin is stressed ; small argument ; reader breaks up with Hyunjin ; Hyunjin regret ; it's mainly angst ; no happy ending ; Word Count : 7.4k A/N : I'm back! Gonna try to write as much as I can before my new job starts!! Request : Anonny : Can you do an angsty Hyunjin Drabble we’re Hyunjin snaps at her because he’s stressed and she’s pregnant but she thinks he snapped because he knows about her pregnancy so she leaves him and he regrets everything and grovels a lot

“Hey baby…” Hyunjin murmured as he walked through the front door, the dark circles under his eyes evident in the bright fluorescent light that hung above the landing. His schedule was grueling nowadays and the jet lag that he experienced had him in so many different time zones you didn’t know how his body was able to handle it. He didn’t even have time to adjust to different sleep schedules before he was being whisked away once again. “Gonna go wash up…” He trudged to the bathroom, the sound of water rushing through the pipes filled the otherwise empty house.

It was always like this, you barely even talked to him anymore other than the short greeting when he walked through the front door. You knew he loved you though, he just didn’t have the energy to really act on the feeling anymore like he used to. You still loved him too, and you’d be there for him no matter what. There was one small… well… Small right now problem… Well, not actually a problem, but it was something that had you slightly on edge.

You had found out you were pregnant, and it’s not like you didn’t want to tell Hyunjin, it just felt like there was never a right time to tell him. He was always gone, and when he came home you didn’t want to bother him with something this big when he already had so much to worry about. It had only been 2 weeks since you took the test, and while you weren’t a fan of hiding things like this, you were still in that timeframe where anything could happen… So it would be unnecessary to even tell him right now when anything could go wrong.

The more you thought about it, it became very evident to you that the trashcan in the bathroom hadn’t needed to be cleared since you took the test. He had been gone for so long, you hadn’t even thought to hide the evidence. It completely slipped your mind, and now you were thinking way too hard, you were panicking. You couldn’t just run in there and take the trash out, he’d question what you were doing. What if he had already seen it? What if he had seen the boxes? What if he looked in the trashcan and saw the positive tests?

Everything might have been quiet in the house, but your thoughts were so loud, and when the water finally shut off and the shower curtain slid open you had barely heard it. It wasn’t until his damp feet padded across the hardwood floors that you lifted your head and saw him coming closer, a towel hanging around his neck to catch the droplets of water that fell from the ends of his hair.

He moved right past the couch that you were sitting on and dropped down into the chair on the other side of the room. It’s not like there wasn’t any room right next to you though… It’s like he didn’t want to sit next to you. Did he find out? Was he mad? He seemed alright when he came through the front door, sure, maybe a bit tired, but that wouldn’t make him want to sit on the complete opposite side of the room… right?

“How was your-” You started, but he let out a loud groan, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Was he annoyed? Was it because you hadn’t told him? He had to have found out, that’s the only reason you could think of. Your top teeth came down into your bottom lip, a sharp breath shooting in between your teeth as you stared at him.

“I’m not ready.” He muttered, and while you didn’t let on outwardly, those three words had your stomach twisting into the tightest knots. Your mouth opened, not even to speak, just to breathe, but his eyes rolled and your lips quickly snapped shut. “Just, don’t talk please. I’m not ready. There’s just too much going on.”

Your head nodded slowly until you were looking straight down at your lap, your fingers twirling around themselves as nervousness and panic completely took over. He found out, he knew, and he didn’t want to know anything about it… He didn’t want anything to do with you or the life growing inside of you right now. He was too busy. “Sorry…” You mumbled, holding your breath to keep yourself from crying right then and there.

“Maybe I should just stay with the guys tonight…” He proposed, and it’s not like you were going to tell him not to. It’s not like you even had time to try to talk him out of it if you wanted to, he was getting up already, tossing his towel into the hamper next to the washer and then going back to the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook and walking out. Not a goodbye, not an “I love you”... nothing. He just… left.

///

“It’s just overwhelming being home after so long…” Hyunjin explained to Chan as he fell onto the couch, his hands running over his face as he let out a loud sigh. “And I know she misses me, and I miss her too… I just can’t sleep, I’m not hungry yet and my schedule is so messed up, I don’t want to bother her with all of that.”

Chans head nodded slowly in agreement, but then he stopped, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows lowered to cast shadows over his already darkened eyes. “You… did tell her that… right? You told her all of that… Right?” He questioned, and Hyunjins head fell as he let out a dejected sigh. Of course he didn’t tell you that. If he did, you’d just give up more of your time to try to help him. “So you just left… For no reason? And you think that when you return home, everything will be fine?”

“I’m not stupid, hyung. I know that things won’t be fine.” Hyunjin muttered, letting out an even heavier sigh which turned to a yawn. “But I have another out of country promotion thing coming up, so I’m thinking that I’ll just stay here until I leave for that, and then I’ll have a break when I get back to talk to her. It’ll give me time to get back on a schedule that lines up with hers and I’ll be able to actually be with her.”

He could read on Chans face that he wasn’t on board with the plan at all, but he didn’t speak a word about it, instead just shaking his head as he pushed himself up off the couch. “If that’s what you think will work, fine. I won’t interfere with your relationship, you know her best. I’m just hoping that you make the right decision, for your sake, and for hers.” There wasn’t much else to say anyway, deep down Hyunjin knew that his decision making was flawed in some way or another, it’s just that he didn’t know what else to do.

Leaving the way he did left no room for error, the way he left was an error in itself. He might not let on that he knows it was a mistake, but it was, he knew it was. There would undoubtedly be an argument once he did come home, and the time that he was giving the both of you between then and now was mainly to prepare himself for that argument. He hated fighting with you, but being as busy as he always was had him constantly on edge. It’s not like he meant to take it out on you either, he really tried not to, that’s why he left as well. He was just so damn tired. He hoped that you’d understand.

///

“So you’re… pregnant… and you left? You just walked out?” Your friend asked as you sat in her living room, your eyes burning from the tears that you had cried earlier whilst explaining everything to her. “You’re sure that he knows? Like, 100% sure? This seems like… And I’m not disregarding your feelings at all… But, your hormones are most likely surging and, I don’t want you to make this kind of decision based on a whim… You know?”

You knew where she was coming from, she always thought more logically than most, and that’s why you had gone to her specifically to talk to her about what was going on. “Why else would he say that? Why else would he just walk out the way that he did? He didn’t even tell me that he loved me… It’s like… Like he realized he doesn’t love me now that he found out I’m having his kid.” And you crumbled once again, a blubbering mess curled up into yourself on her couch, and no amount of back rubs or consolations were going to make you feel any better. “I mean… I know that we never really talked about having children… And he’s been so busy lately… I just didn’t think he’d react like this…”

She let out a slow breath, she was clearly thinking, but she also knew that right now, you didn’t need realistic thoughts or “what ifs”, you just needed her to be there for you, and that’s what she’d be. “Everything will be okay… I’ll help you no matter what you decide to do.” You fell against her shoulder, letting yourself cry to the point of your eyes feeling so heavy that you could barely keep them open, and you eventually fell asleep. At least in your dreams, this hadn’t happened. Your subconscious mind hadn’t fully come to terms with the events of the day, and in your mind, you and Hyunjin were still happy, and your vivid imagination played out a reality where he and you raised your child together, in a loving home, one where he wasn’t so busy, one where he was actually excited to be a father.

Upon awakening, you immediately checked your phone. A thin sliver of hope that maybe he had messaged you, maybe he’d want to talk about what had happened and why he reacted the way he did. Maybe he’d apologize, maybe he’d explain things… but there was nothing. There were no calls or texts, hell, you even checked your email just in case… It’s like he walked out and completely forgot that you existed.

“Sleep well?” Your friend asked as she turned the corner from the kitchen, her head tilted as she watched you look through your phone, and the cheerful smile she had been wearing just a millisecond before faded to a frown as she walked to sit beside you. “Let’s not worry about that, yeah? We can order in tonight, watch some movies, really get your mind off of things?”

You nodded in agreement, mainly because she was trying so hard, you weren’t going to shoot down her attempts at trying to cheer you up. She was doing the best she could as your friend, and she couldn’t just bring Hyunjin to you or force him to explain… That was something he had to decide to do on his own.

There was nothing though, nothing that could be done to actually get your mind off of what was happening. You couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you’d most likely be a single mother, that Hyunjin wanted nothing to do with you or his child. He wasn’t ready, he didn’t have the time to be around for things like that. He was responsible for so many other things, he had so much on his shoulders, how was he possibly supposed to juggle everything that he was already dealing with and being a father on top of that?

“You pick the movie and I’ll order the food, okay?” She patted your knee after passing you the remote, giving you a smile, but it felt more apologetic. She felt sorry for you. Everyone would pity you… Or maybe they’d pity him. They wouldn’t listen to your side of the story, especially the fans. They’d take his side regardless of what you say. He was perfect, and you had essentially stolen him from them in the first place. They hated you from the beginning, they would find any reason to break you down further.

Or, maybe they’d be happy that you made this decision. They could go back to their delusional thoughts, their dreams that they’d actually have a chance with him now that you were out of the picture. You didn’t want to deal with all of that though. You didn’t want any of this to be made public, you wanted to disappear. That’s exactly what you’d do… You didn’t need him to message you, you didn’t need an explanation…. It would be better for you and your child to be free of him. Maybe… Hopefully, he’d avoid you long enough and just forget about you, forget about the baby, forget about everything.

///

“She hasn’t texted you back yet?” Felix asked Hyunjin who was doubled over the kitchen counter, visibly shaking from crying, yet no sound was coming out, not anymore. “Look, I’m sure there’s a reason… What was the last thing you said to her?” Felix, who hadn’t been told of everything that had happened prior to Hyunjins return for his promotions, was just trying to help as much as he could.

“Nothing… I didn’t say anything to her…” Hyunjin gasped out, finally lifting his head to reveal his eyes that were puffy and red, but underneath the redness was a darker purple from lack of sleep. “She took… Everything. All of her stuff is gone. She left.” And with that reflection came another round of tears. “Chan hyung was right… I know he thought I was stupid… my plan was stupid…”

Felix was baffled to say the least, and on top of that, quite disappointed in his friend who had spent the last 3 years gushing over how much he loved you and how he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. How could Hyunjin have fumbled so badly? “Let me get this straight… You haven’t talked to her at all? What happened?” Now, Felix was no expert on relationships, but he was sure that he could help in some way. There had to be something he could do to help Hyunjin get you back. Things couldn’t be so bad that there was no hope.

“I left… I walked out… And and… It wasn’t her fault… But I did it wrong. I didn’t say goodbye and I didn’t tell her I loved her…” There was still hope though, it’s not like Hyunjin would have ghosted you while he was gone… It was almost a whole month of traveling. He couldn’t go that long without talking to you. Hell, he couldn’t even go that long without talking about you. “I knew I messed up, and I thought… Maybe a little bit of time would make things better. I thought I’d be able to talk to her when I got back because now I have a break… But she’s gone.”

“So you just… Nothing? No communication at all…?” Felixs teeth gritted together, all thoughts of being able to help had been thrown out the window as Hyunjin shamefully nodded his head. “So this… this might be fixable still… you know… with a lot of work. A lot of communication and explanations… This could still work.” But even Hyunjin knew that Felix was just trying to take away some of the sting, give him just a bit of false hope so he could at least sleep easier tonight, but none of it would work. Hyunjin knew the mistakes he had made had cost him an entire 3 year relationship. He fucked up, and there was no coming back from it.

“I’m not stupid, Felix…” The words came out as an exasperated sigh, he didn’t need false hope, he needed you back, and that was the one thing he wasn’t going to get. “I’ve tried to call her, it goes straight to voicemail. My texts won’t even go through. She blocked me. She wants nothing to do with me. I can’t fix things, I don’t even know where she’s at.” He ran his hands rather roughly through his hair, strands getting stuck and yanked out between his fingers, only worrying Felix more. Hyunjin was beyond stressed at this point, he was stressed and depressed, and those two are a very bad combination.

“How about you just not think about it for a bit. Just… Focus on literally anything else.” At this point Felix was pleading. Seeing Hyunjin like this, although it was solely Hyunjins fault, was devastating and beyond worrisome. He didn’t know what Hyunjin would do, he didn’t know how bad Hyunjin could get, he didn’t even know if this was the worst of it. He didn’t like seeing his best friend like this.

Hyunjin scoffed, an unamused smirk stretching across his face. “Oh? Focus on something else, like I’ve been doing? That’s the reason I lost her in the first place. I’m tired of having to focus on so much other shit that I can’t even focus on my own girlfriend!” His voice continued to rise in volume and pitch, and now Felix was downright scared. “I lost the love of my life because I put everything else in front of her! I made everything else my priority! You see where that gets me!”

Felix stumbled back, scared to even attempt to make eye contact at this point. “Look, I get that you’re mad at yourself right now, and that’s fair… But you need to calm down…” Hyunjin wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, he was sure of that, but his hands instinctively moved out in front of him to keep some space between himself and Hyunjin, just in case his words upset Hyunjin even more. “Maybe she needs some time… Maybe she’ll come back to you. You can't just… You can’t be going off like this…”

A laugh, almost maniacal, escaped Hyunjins lips, his head falling back as the sound seemed to vibrate the whole room. “Calm down… Calm down?! How?! How am I supposed to calm down!? Would you stay calm during a situation like this?! If you ruined your entire relationship would you just be calm!?” He continued shouting, and Felix knew that at this point there was no use. He would either descend completely into madness, or he’d come to his senses and realize that he’s acting absolutely crazy right now. “I need to go out, I need a drink or something.” Hyunjin mumbled, and while Felix knew that a drink was the last thing that Hyunjin needed, there was no use trying to stop him, there was no use trying to talk to him, there was no use trying to do anything to help right now.

///

“You’re in a good mood today. What’s got you so happy?” Your friend asked, noticing that you were smiling at your phone for the last 15 minutes at least. “Did you get a new boyfriend or something?” You whipped your head up long enough to scowl at her, and she laughed lightly as she leaned back against the couch. “Okay, no boyfriend… So, what is it?”

You turned your phone in her direction and waved it back and forth as you exclaimed. “I got the apartment that I’ve been looking at. It’s affordable and big enough for myself and the baby.” You dropped your hand down to your lap, clicking off your phone and letting out a soft sigh. “I’ll miss staying with you though… You’ll have to visit me a lot.”

She snorted loudly, leaning forward and reaching over to grab your hand. “I know that you felt like you needed to do this, but I wouldn’t have minded you staying here. The company was nice…” The corners of your mouth pulled down into a frown at the sentiment, it was too late to go back now that you had already agreed and the landlord was in the process of getting the leasing papers. “Hey, no pouting. I’ll be over your place so much that it’ll be like I live there.”

Maybe it was the hormones that had tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, or maybe it was just the fact that you had become so comfortable staying at your friend's apartment that you know how you’d actually do this on your own. Now you wouldn’t have anyone, not Hyunjin, and not even her. “Promise?” You whimpered, and a sympathetic smile spread across her face as she dabbed at your tears with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I promise. I’m gonna be like the second mom that the baby never asked for.” You laughed weakly at the joke before finally taking a deep breath and getting up, your friend moving right alongside you. “So when is the next appointment? I wanna know what our baby is gonna be, hmm!” You rolled your eyes, but it felt nice to hear someone, anyone, call the baby ours and not just yours…

“Next week…” You murmured as you walked into the kitchen to grab a drink and she followed right behind you. “Is it okay to be scared? I mean… Once I find out… that makes it more real. I still feel alone… And I know that you’re here and I’m so happy that you are… I don’t know what I would have done without you here… But he’s… I still have dreams about him… What it would be like to have him as a part of the baby’s life.”

“That’s normal…” She reassured you, stepping around the counter to rub your back in soothing circles. “Just because you got rid of him doesn’t mean that your heart or your mind can or will get rid of him. He’s the father of that baby, regardless of whether he wants to act the part or not, and you won’t forget that.” And once again you were sniffling, your head falling against her shoulder as she consoled you. She put up with a lot for you, and for that you felt awful, even if she said she didn’t mind. You truly didn’t know what you’d do without her.

///

Hyunjin had slowly begun to get back to his normal routine, although he still missed you, at least during the day he was able to act like he was okay. The same couldn’t be said about nighttime though, he’d lay in bed scrolling through his pictures of you and just cry. 6 months was a long time to be away from someone, and most people would think that it was enough time to get over someone… But it was hard to get over a person if that person was the one that you were in love with.

Daylight hours though, he was the Hyunjin that everyone knew and loved. The only thing that was different was that he didn’t talk about you anymore, and it’s not that he didn’t try to, it’s just that the guys would stop him before he could even get a word out.

It had been weeks now since he had last tried to even bring you up, and all of the guys really thought they were beginning to get somewhere. Sure, they’d still hear him crying at night, but they were really hoping that soon he’d be able to move on, maybe not to another girl, but move on from his mistakes, use them as a lesson in the future for what not to do.

“We should go to the cafe since we’ve got a break, yeah?” Felix suggested as he sat against the mirrored wall beside Hyunjin in the practice room. “I think we deserve to reward ourselves after all of our practice. Plus, I know your ass would never turn down an iced americano, so let’s go.” Hyunjin chuckled as he and Felix both got up off the floor, heading to the door.

“We should go to my favorite place, they’ve got the best pastries and I’m so hungry.” Felix nodded along to the suggestion, anything to make Hyunjin happy and keep him happy. What both of the guys didn’t know though, was that Hyunjins favorite cafe had become your favorite cafe as well. It’s not like you could help the cravings that seemed to come almost overnight the further along you got in your pregnancy.

The walk was short, it was within a block of the building, and maybe that’s why Hyunjin had come to like it so much. It wasn’t just the taste of the beverages and the treats, it was the convenience of it as well. Not just that, but there were memories there, memories that he tried to keep at the back of his mind, but just the sight of the familiar storefront sign had the memories flooding in. He couldn’t help but think back on all the days that he’d meet you there during your lunch breaks, holding hands with you across the table as you both talked about your days. Where did it all go wrong?

“Oh look!” Felix announced, breaking the silence of the otherwise quiet walk. “It must be the anniversary of the cafe opening or something. They’ve got balloons all out front.” Hyunjins eyes were drawn to the pink and white orbs that floated in the front of the shop. Over the five years that he had been going there, he had never seen them do anything like that before for anniversaries, but maybe this one was important.

“That’s cute… Maybe they’ll have some specials or something.” Hyunjin joked, his pace picking up slightly at the thought of a discounted treat. Things were starting to get a little weird now though as he and Felix got closer. There had never been so many cars parked out front of the cafe at once, and as he glanced through the window, he could see pink and white streamers hanging from the ceiling. “Is someone having a party?” He questioned, and Felix peaked in as well, but ultimately shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m sure they’re not using the whole cafe, come on. We can probably still get a seat.” Felix pushed through the door, the chime above the door ringing out and letting the employees and everyone else in the cafe know they were there. “Looks like a baby shower… I’ve never known of people having baby showers at cafes… That’s new.” He mused, pointing to the banner that hung above the counter.

“Is it just me… or did it get like… really awkward in here…” Hyunjin whispered, noticing the way the entire cafe seemed to go silent upon their entrance. He couldn’t help but feel antsy under the gazes of so many people. “Maybe we should just go back after we order…”

“Or it could just be because we’re famous… Come on… Don’t make me walk back yet. My feet are tired.” Felix playfully whined, and Hyunjin relented. He was sure that Felix was right, sometimes it was easy to forget that he was an idol, especially when he was out doing normal things like getting coffee with his best friend. “Maybe if the parents know of us, they’ll ask us to take pictures. I wouldn’t mind doing that. That would be so cool actually.” Felix continued to think out loud after ordering the drinks and the pastries, Hyunjin following along as they walked to a table closer to the back.

By that time, it seemed like the people that had already been there for the baby shower were talking amongst themselves, quieter now, and Hyunjin was trying so hard not to be pessimistic, he was trying to truly believe what Felix had said, but there was just this feeling in his stomach that these people weren’t shocked or in awe at the fact that the two of them had shown up. They were angry. Then, the chime above the door rang out, and a unified chorus of “surprise” was cheered. That’s when Felix almost choked on his drink, his eyes widening as he set his eyes upon the new “customer”.

“There is no fucking way…” Felix muttered, and it’s not like he’d be able to keep Hyunjin from looking, it’s not like they wouldn’t pass by the party anyway on the way out. If something were to happen, it was bound to happen, regardless of how much Felix tried to keep it from happening, so he decided not to try at all. All he could do was hold his breath as he watched Hyunjin turn around in his seat and then completely freeze when his eyes landed on you.

It wasn’t just you though, there was someone else… Although they weren’t visible right now, they weren’t standing beside you… They were growing inside of you. You had to be 6… maybe 7 months pregnant by now… And it was all starting to make sense to Hyunjin now… At least in his head. That’s why you left. You had gotten pregnant by someone else while he was away, that had to be the reason. What other reason was there for you to just leave the way you did without saying a single word. This whole time he had thought that it had been his fault… But you had cheated on him. You cheated and you didn’t even have the common decency to tell him before you left.

“Wow! Congratulations!” Hyunjin cheered snarkily as he loudly pushed his chair back and got up, clapping his hands together so hard that it almost echoed off the walls. “Crazy that of all places I finally get to see you again, it’s at your baby shower! Is that why you left, huh? You just couldn’t stay faithful while I was away and you managed to get knocked up! Where’s the father? Where is he, hmm!? I just wanna talk to him!” His voice started rising in pitch and getting louder and louder, something that Felix had seen before, and even though he was upset as well, he didn’t want Hyunjin to do something that he might end up regretting.

“What are you talking about?” You managed to say through tears and sobs, your arms seeming to instinctively wrap around your stomach to protect it from Hyunjins anger. “Stop trying to act so innocent just because you’re out in public! Or did you not even tell Felix?! Or maybe you just conveniently forgot that you’re the one that walked out on me because you found out I was pregnant and you didn’t want to deal with it!”

“WHAT?!” Both Hyunjin and Felix said the word at the same time, both of their expressions mirrored right beside each other as they stared at you, their mouths agape and their eyes so wide it looked like they might fall out. “Wait… Just.. Hold on a second!” Hyunjin stammered, his arms going up in defense as everyone in the room started to get more angry. “You’re… You’re saying… The baby is mine?!”

You let out a sigh of disbelief, your hand running shakily through your hair, but Hyunjin couldn’t seem to take his eyes off your stomach that was rounded out, like a volleyball was placed under your shirt. It’s not like he had never seen a pregnant woman before, but to see the woman that he was head over heels in love with, pregnant… it was something that he couldn’t wrap his mind around, especially now that he knew the baby was his. “I just want to go… I want to go home…” You whimpered to your best friend who had her arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

“No! No wait!” Hyunjin practically screamed when you started to turn around, his hand reaching out to grab your upper arm and keep you from moving any further. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why would you just walk out? Were you just going to… hide it… from me?” His voice got softer, wavering a little as his eyes glassed over, finally looking at you, and the prominent frown on your face had his heart aching even more.

“Stop pretending… Stop… Hyunjin, you already knew.” The words came out as a single breath, exhausted already from the back and forth of it all. “You didn’t have to tell me… I knew why you left. You saw the test in the bin… You didn’t even want to talk about it. You left… You didn’t tell me you loved me, and it doesn’t matter how long it’s been… It still hurts…” You never turned around to face him, but he didn’t need to see your face to know that you were holding your breath, your cheeks slightly puffed out, something that he always found to be adorable, but now that it was because of him, he was devastated. You didn’t want him to see you cry, you didn’t want him to hear that you were choked up, but he knew…

It wasn’t making sense though. “Y/N…” He whispered your name, stepping closer, feeling the glares of everyone around him, but it didn’t stop him. He wouldn’t hesitate. Even if you didn’t want to get back with him, even if nothing was fixed by this conversation… “I would never leave… Not because of this. If I knew… I would have sat down and talked to you about it… I would have… I would have done things differently. I was stupid, but not because I found out you were pregnant. I was stupid because I was stressed, I was so tired from work and… I thought that I had made a mistake before… But now I can see how big that mistake was. I didn’t just lose you… I lost you and… and my baby…” He needed you to know that everything, every thought that had been filling your head about what you thought had happened, that it was wrong.

Even still, you didn’t turn around, but your shoulders slumped and he could see the deep breath that you took when they raised back up. “You didn’t even call me… I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. You don’t know the hell that I went through… To try to get over you… And I still haven’t. I don’t think I ever will because… I’ll always have her as a constant reminder of you… And I hate that, but I’d never hate her for being born by a father who couldn’t have cared less.”

Those words hurt, they hurt more than anything else you had said, because you truly thought that low of him. “You think I don’t care?” He questioned, and you finally turned around, your mascara running down your cheeks with every tear that spilled over, and you simply nodded. “You’re wrong… I care more than you know. I can’t sleep at night… Because I fucked up so bad… And now I have… I have a daughter…” His voice broke, his head falling back and his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, trying to remove the lump from his throat. “Now that I know… I don’t… What am I supposed to do? I’m not just going to… Move on and… And act like I don’t have a child… Like I’m not still in love with you…”

“Hyunjin stop…” You muttered, your head shaking as your eyes dropped to the ground. “What do you think saying all this is going to do, huh? If it wasn’t for Chae… I don’t know what I would have done. I would have had to do all this by myself… Because… Because fine, you didn’t know I was pregnant… But you still walked out on me. You put your job before me, above me… You always have…”

“I know…” Hyunjins head solemnly nodded, you were right, it had been one of the constant arguments that the two of you would have been he still had you, but he had been too blind to see that it would be his biggest downfall. “I know I did, and I regret it, and I’ll regret it even more now. I’ve changed though… And I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know what I want to happen. I want to be a part of her life… Whether what I want happens or not… Can I at least have that…?”

///

“So… You’re still single… I’m still single… I don’t know what you’re holding off for…” Hyunjin teased as he helped you hang the banner across the wall. “We’re great at coparenting… I mean, can you imagine what it would be like if we were one unit? We’d be unstoppable. We’d be the coolest parents ever! Not to mention, the hottest parents at school pickup when she’s older.”

You rolled your eyes. He always managed to find a way to have some sort of variation of the same conversation every single time he came over. He was relentless. “Mm… Don’t fix what’s not broken, haven’t you heard that saying before?” You chimed, stretching up on your toes to try to even out the banner that he seemed to put just high enough for you not to reach on purpose. He stepped behind you, his breath hitting your neck and sending shivers down your spine as he grabbed your end and hung it for you. “You’re such a dork…” You mumbled as you turned around, your breath catching in your throat when you realized just how close his face was to yours.

“And I’m once again asking if I could be your dork… again…” He smiled hopefully, his head tilted to the side, and although you had admitted to yourself multiple times already that you still loved him, that he was the only man that you’d ever be able to love, that you wanted nothing more than to get back with him… There was always going to be that part of you that worried about him going back to the way he used to be. Going through it once was enough, and you had come to terms that yeah, maybe part of it was your fault for jumping to conclusions and leaving the way you had, but he had been in the wrong as well, and you refused to go through that again, especially now that you had a child to protect as well.

“But you are my dork…” His eyes lit up momentarily, and you giggled lightly, taking the momentary lapse of attention as a way to slip away. “I still have to put up with your antics almost daily, and you’re over my apartment every day.” He was following you around now as you straightened the decorations that had already been resituated a million times today. “Did you get the cake?” You turned to look at him, his pursed lips and the already guilty look on his face had you groaning loudly.

“Calm down, baby.” He cooed, and you hated how much you missed hearing him call you that. “I already got it, it’s in the fridge. Have more faith in me… I’m not an absolute pabo.” Your lips pulled into a straight line as you stared at him, but when he remained silent you snorted loudly. “What? What?! Would a pabo make such a beautiful, intelligent, silly, baby girl? Hmm? Would he?”

“Yes, yes he would.” You retorted with a giggle. “Because the pabo is very handsome, and very silly. She got her smarts from me though.” His lips pulled down into an overly dramatic pout and you playfully pushed against his chest as you shook your head. “Let me take credit for her intelligence, she’s only pretty and silly because you’re her dad. Luckily she looks a lot like you. Although we’re gonna have our work cut out for ourselves when she gets to school.”

You went to step around him, but his hands landed on your hips, stopping you from any further as he looked you in your eyes, his gaze becoming more serious. “You’re beautiful…” Everything that came out of his mouth before this could have been taken as a joke, and maybe it was all meant to be taken as a joke, but the light tone that he had been carrying the whole afternoon was gone now. “You’re so beautiful, so smart, so perfect and… and every single day I wonder if it’s going to be the last chance I have to even try to get you back… but until that day comes, I’m going to keep trying because if I’m not with you, I don’t want to be with anyone.” He took a deep breath, his arms dropping to his sides as he took a step back. “But if you ever do find someone else… Can you give me a heads up, just so I can prepare myself for the heartbreak of seeing the love of my life with some other man… Please.”

“You’re so dramatic…” You muttered, taking a step to close the space that he made between the two of you. “You don’t have to worry about that ever happening… There’s no one that can ever make me feel the way you did…” Hesitantly, you reached out to grab his hands, your thumbs brushing along his knuckles. “I’ll never want anyone but you.” Was it really smart to be admitting these things to him? Probably not. Who knew what would happen now that he knew, and you still weren’t ready for anything with him, at least not anything where it felt like your entire life was on the line. “You’re everything to me… and-“

His hands pulled away from yours, and for the split second where you couldn’t feel his touch, you panicked. Was he mad at you? No… His hands moved to cup your cheeks as he placed the softest, sweetest, most bittersweet kiss to your lips. It was everything, the sparks once again unleashed in the pits of your stomach just like the first kiss all over again. “You don’t have to explain… I know that you’re not ready… I’m just happy to hear that there’s no one else. And I’ll wait, I’ll keep waiting until you think that I’m deserving enough to be with you again.” His thumbs brushed your cheek before his hand slipped to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as his forehead rested against yours. “I love you though, only you, it’ll only ever be you…”

“The birthday girl has arrived!” Changbin announced as him and the rest of the guys walked through the front door, your daughter waddling in infront of them all, her tiny feet carrying her fast over to where you and Hyunjin stood, her tiny hands grabbing at the air in front of her until she reached the both of you. “Are we… interrupting?” Changbin questioned, eyeing you and Hyunjin suspiciously, but you both shook your heads, and you quickly wiped the few tears that had fallen before giving the guys a smile.

“Nope, you’re just in time!” You clapped your hands together, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves and looking around. Everything was perfect. “Thanks for watching her while we decorated. Was she good?” The guys all nodded, but they still looked between you and Hyunjin, the assumptions and suspicions that they had were obvious. You were just glad that at the end of the day, Hyunjin would be the one faced with the questions, not you.

“Ah! Look at my big girl! Dada missed you bunches!” Hyunjin squealed as he scooped up his daughter, spinning around with her as he peppered kisses across her face, eliciting a chorus of giggles to pour out. “Do you like? Is it pretty?” He asked as he pointed at all the decorations, walking over to all the places she pointed to and letting her grab at the balloons and the streamers.

Your heart swelled whenever you watched him with your daughter. He was a great father, he was a wonderful boyfriend when he wanted to be, and you wished that you could get rid of all the doubt and fears and hesitations that you had about him. He truly was perfect, he’s everything that you wanted. He said that he’d wait, but was it fair to keep him waiting? You didn’t even know how long it would take… Maybe someday… Someday soon… You’d be able to give him the answer he wanted, the answer that you want… But for now… For now you both could be happy like this, and for today, you’d let yourselves forget about everything and focus on your daughter and celebrate her 2nd birthday together, as parents, as a family, surrounded by all the people she loves and all the people that love her.

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forever-rogue · 18 hours

Note

Hi babes! So I’ve had this idea running around my brain for days.

Basically Cooper Howard and the reader knew each other pre-apocalypse (up to you wether it was romantic or platonic) but after the bombs go off, the reader makes it to a vault where she is put in a cryopod for 200 years to see that the rest of her vault is dead from asphyxiation (I definitely didn’t think of this by playing fallout 4). So she escapes and later finds Cooper (she recognises him and then realises it’s him), it’s up to you how it goes from there 🫶🏻.

Anyway, I love your work! Hope you’re doing great! 💗

AN | I love this concept. Enjoy❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; mentions of canon typical violence

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, sugar,” Cooper came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. You made a small sound of content before leaning into him and turning your head to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“I’m just…thinking,” you whispered before turning around so you were facing him. The warm evening breeze swirled around the two of you as you leaned against the porch railing, and looked down the Hollywood hills. He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

“You do that a lot,” he teased as you rolled your eyes in amusement, “too much thinking ain’t good for you.”

“Well, between the two of us, one of us has to use a brain cell once in a while,” he scoffed as he gently squeezed your cheeks before pressing a kiss to your lips. When he let go, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him a few more times, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” he confirmed with a soft nod, “I love you too, sweetheart. You gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“I suppose,” you sighed lightly, resting your hands on his chest, “do you think that...it seems silly, but do you think that it'll ever happen? The nuclear war. Or do you think it’s all just a big pissing contest?”

“I think,” he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips in order to press a kiss to your knuckles, “that you worry too much too often.”

“I know,” you agreed, “I know I do. I just can't help it sometimes. What if something happens?”

“If anything were to happen, we’d face it together and figure it out,” he promised and while you liked the idea of his sweet words, it didn’t totally alleviate your worries. He’d been trying to convince himself as much as you. It had been a constant in his mind as well. He wasn’t as good of a liar as he believed he was.

“Rest assured Cooper Howard,” you whispered softly, “that I will always find you and be with you. No matter what life brings.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and let out a small sigh. You echoed the sound sweetly before kissing him again, “I promise, Coop.”

“I promise too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Cooper?” your brow furrowed as you looked at the tall figure standing in front of you. The first time seeing a Ghoul had almost caused you to have a heart attack; you hadn’t been expecting to see someone so…crispy. Being asleep for the last two hundred years hadn’t prepared you for half the things you’d seen in the short time since you’d escaped Vault 111. Like the radroaches - seriously? Weren’t those things bad enough normal? Nature had definitely fucked up with that one.

Some things you could get used to easily, but other things were definitely going to take time. Two hundred years had passed and you hadn’t experienced a single thing. In some ways it felt like you’d been a lamb left to slaughter.

After you’d gotten over your initial shock at the Ghouls, you’d realized, with a heavy heart, that they were just people too. People had suffered unfortunate circumstances but they were still just people…mostly. Realistically you’d been rather lucky when it came down to it. You had a long nap while others suffered.

But you’d recognize him anywhere; you’d memorized every part of him so many years ago. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget him.

But this…this wasn’t who you were expecting to see. Honestly, you didn’t expect to see him ever again, but here he was…alive and breathing. Maybe.

“Cooper,” you took a step closer while he took a step back, his hand brushing along the holster at his side. You held up your hands in a meek attempt to show your innocence; it still made your heart constrict to see his response to you, “i-it’s me.”

“I’m ain’t fallin’ for that one, sweetheart,” he drawled, causing a frown to tug down the corners of your mouth, “I know when I’m hallucinating and I’m not about to go feral.”

“What are you…talking about?” you watched in confusion as he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small vial before downing it in one go. He tossed the bottle to the side, letting it clink off the side of a building, “I don't ... I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t understand anything here, but I know it’s you. I’d know you anywhere.”

He made a sound at the back of his throat as he blinked a few times, still looking at you as if he was trying to decide if he’d already gone feral or whatever it was called. You wondered if he would even possibly shoot you.

“That’s impossible,” he said quietly as he studied you. It was like you were frozen in time - you looked exactly the same as you did two hundred years ago. It wasn’t possible for you to look like that when he looked like…a monster, “you look just like her but you can’t be her.”

“Cooper Howard,” you sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. You’d always done that and he’d seen that look on your face a thousand times before, “I don’t know exactly what happened to me. I-I woke up and I was in one of those weird vaults that they used to talk about and there was no else there. A couple of skeletons and a bunch of these giant cockroaches-”

“Radroaches.”

“Radroaches,” you rolled your eyes and that almost had him let down his guard, “and I got out. I don’t know what year it is and I don’t know what’s happened. I’m just here. And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or where I’m going or what’s even happening in the world anymore. But I found you. I know it’s you. I told you that I’d always find you.”

He allowed himself to relax as he tried to put the pieces together to see if your story made sense. The worst part of it all was that it made sense. The day the life as he’d always known it stopped, he hadn’t seen you. But he knew that you’d been at the Vault-Tec headquarters that day. It made sense. It made sense.

He hated that. Hated that you were forced to experience this strange new world, and even more that you had been all but abandoned to figure it out for yourself. But he couldn’t deny that there was a palpable feeling running through his entire being at the sight of you. Your smile was just as pretty as he remembered; he thought about it a lot. Thought about you a lot, still to this day, despite the fact that it had been literal centuries.

He’d accepted that you were dead a long time ago. But here you were, a ghost of a life that once was.

You let out a nervous laugh at his silence, feeling like a fool, “are you gonna say anything or am I just going to keep standing here like an idiot?”

“You should turn back around and walk to the nearest vault and pray that they take you in,” was all he managed to choke out as you felt the tears start to sting at the back of your eyes. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to possibly even say to him, “you ain’t cut out for his world. You weren’t made for it. You ain’t gonna survive up here on the surface.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you stomped your foot, an unwitting little habit that you had, “you want me to just walk away?”

“Yeah,” he pulled the brim of his hat lower, voice gruff, “I do.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, trying to hold back all that you were feeling, “and what? You’re cut out for this world?”

“Look at me,” he growled deeply, “I’m a fuckin’ monster made for this world.”

You flinched at the sound of the self hatred in his voice. He wasn’t anything like you’d remembered or expected, but he was still your Cooper.

“You should get going, darlin’.”

You turned on your heel, ready to walk…somewhere. Anywhere other than there, left to be humiliated.

“Tell me one thing,” you turned back to face him, finding that he was still watching you intently, “what year is it?”

“2296.”

Your heart almost stopped for a moment as you tried not to panic.

Over two hundred years since you’d last walked the world. You’d been sleeping for over two hundred years while Cooper had been suffering. You had so many questions, but more than anything your heart hurt for everything that he’d been through.

You offered him a nod before walking away, this time for real, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were going to do.

Cooper watched you go wordlessly, eyes on you until you were but a small speck in the distance.

“Who was that?” Lucy appeared at his side along with the canine companion they'd named Dogmeat, a curious expression on her face, “did you know her?”

“It was no one,” the sharpness of his voice caught Lucy off guard and she raised her eyebrows in question, “just lost.”

“Okie dokie,” she hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulders, “we should keep going before it gets dark.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with her, finding his heart wasn’t quite in it, “get a move on kid.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was a weird world. Like really weird. There were creatures that you'd encountered that appeared to be descendants of the ones you'd known during your previous life. Roaches definitely weren't supposed to be the size of dogs. Dogs really shouldn't have been up to your shoulders. And that thing that you'd encountered that was maybe a fish? Wild.

It was all so much to get used to and it felt like you were a child all over again. You had met a kind woman that had taken you into her diner (or whatever a diner was these days) and helped to get you back on your feet. The first order of business? Getting rid of the vault suit; not'd noticed an immediate shift in how people treated you once the suit was gone.

The one thing that hadn't changed? Men. Men continued to the worst, leering shamelessly after you. Looks like not even radiation can evolve that out of men.

You still had not clue what you were going to do with your life or anything really, but at least now you had a safe space to learn to adapt and overcome. Now you just had about two hundred years of history to catch up on. Learning about places called the New California Republic and New Vegas definitely told you that something big had happened.

Everything else, you hoped, would fall into place over time. You did, however, have your suspicions that Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of liars confirmed. There was that at least. And you'd learned what a Ghoul was - what Cooper was. It didn't sound like it had been a fun reality for him.

At least if you were going to start aging naturally, you wouldn’t have to suffer in this hell forever.

You were helping around the diner one afternoon when the doors swung open to reveal Cooper, along with a young woman and a dog. Funny, you thought to yourself, Cooper had always adored dogs.

The rag dropped from your hand as blinked wordlessly at them. Neither you nor Cooper said anything, silence thick and heavy between the two of you.

“Do you have any pie?” The young woman asked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as she looked around, “and maybe some water?”

“S-sure,” you stammered nervously pointing at the table towards the back, “I'll get that pie.”

And just like that, Cooper was back in your life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Without Cooper, you weren't quite sure what to do. Honestly, you had been sure what you'd do once you left the vault along, but you figured when you found him that things would fall into place…or make a little more sense anyway. But as you'd made your way through the skeletons that littered the vault, you weren't entirely convinced that this wasn't some sort of fever dream.

And Cooper had turned his back on you.

Only to come back to rescue you.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice dropping softly, almost like he was letting down his guard, “how did you end up in one of those pods?”

“I don't know,” you admitted, wiping your hands on your knees as you looked at him, “I-I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. You’d been wracking your brain for weeks now - ever since you’d escaped the vault - about what exactly happened before you took a centuries long nap.

“The last thing I really remember was speaking with that Maclean kid, the one that had recently started working at Vault-Tec. We got into an argument about something and he shoved me around and then…I think he hit me. The next thing I can remember is waking up.”

“Life is funny, ain’t it,” he pinched his brow before looking at you with a pained expression, “Hank Maclean is still alive. The girl I’ve been traveling with…she’s his kid. I think everyone finally found just what kind of a person he is. And it ain’t a good one.”

“He’s still alive,” you breathed out heavily, trying to decide if you were angry with him or…in a twisted way, thankful. You supposed the last two hundred years could have been a lot worse than just sleeping through them. But then again, if you’d been awake and aging, you’d have been long dead by now, “this is all so…weird.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a few bit, as you started at the roaring fire. It was dangerous, or so you’d been told by almost everyone you’d encountered. But somehow with Cooper by yourself, you didn’t feel scared or nervous.

“I looked for you,” he said after a short while as your attention snapped to him, “for a long time. Decades.”

“Really?” your voice cracked on the simple question as he nodded.

“After a while, I realized you were probably dead,” your heart twisted at that, “it was the only logical answer. Unless you’d ended up like me and I would never wish that on you.”

“What happened, Cooper?” you asked softly. You wanted to know but you also didn’t want to push him either. You still had so many questions about this strange new world, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Your curiosity was one of the things I always loved about you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, almost sounding just as you remembered, “to put it simply, radiation. I got a little bit too much of that radiation and then I became like one of them radroaches, adapting and surviving.”

“Radiation,” you repeated softly, “fuck me. Am I going to-”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured you, “radiation levels are livable now.”

“Oh,” you swallowed thickly as you gave him a nod, “that’s good…I think.”

“You don’t deserve to have to live in such a world,” he caught your eye and looked at you intently, “in a way I wished you’d never have had to experience it. It would have been easier if you’d just…died that day they dropped the bombs. But in a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. Still the prettiest face I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted in amusement as your face warmed up, “still the biggest flirt I’ve ever met Cooper Howard. In a selfish way, I’m glad you’re here too.”

“You’re telling me that you’re happy to see his ugly old face?” he asked, his voice turning gruff and bitter, “darlin’, you could be looking at a gulper and it’d be a prettier sight.”

“What’s a gulper?” your mind reeled with possibilities of what in the actual hell a gulper was.

“I…nevermind,” you didn’t need to know about those horrors just yet, “there’s a lot of things that are prettier than I am.”

“Agree to disagree,” you insisted with a soft laugh, “I’m glad you’re here, you know. Even if it sucks and this whole world sucks. I’m glad you’re still here. Selfish or not.”

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking over to him and plopping onto the ground next to him so you were facing him. You reached for his hand and took it in yours, giving it a squeeze so tender that it almost made him cry. He never thought he’d get to feel such a touch ever again.

“So,” you whispered softly, “what’s next?”

“You’re not ready to run for the hills and hide?” he joked, half serious.

“Nope,” you promised, “besides, what the fuck am I going to do here by myself? I know nothing about anything anymore.”

“Want to help me and the kind find Hank Maclean?” he asked as your eyebrows raised up, “it’s a long story.”

“I’m in,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I want to do first.”

“And what’s that, sugar?”

“This,” you leaned in and took his face in your hands, before gently leaning and kissing him. When you pulled away he looked at you in surprise, “that’s all.”

“C’mere,” he put his hands on your hips and hauled you onto his lap, “you should know better than to start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I fully intended to finish,” you grinned, “I’ve missed you, Coop.”

“I’ve missed you every day for a long time,” he sighed, “I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good.”

#cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv #fallout #walton goggins

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littlexdeaths · 18 hours

Text

what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader #best friend!eddie munson

306 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 3 days

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends.

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.”

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.”

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you.

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did.

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on.

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore.

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely.

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.

She looked up at you. “Want some help?”

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.”

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm.

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath.

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August.

But, shit, you were already in way too deep.

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.”

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore.

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side.

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway.

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.”

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment.

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.”

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

“It’s not easy for me either.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.”

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.”

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago.

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night.

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire.

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again.

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time.

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.”

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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sainns · 3 days

Text

DROP THE ALBUM!ㅤ⊹ㅤPSH SMAU

PROLOGUE the breakup and afterwards

note i lied this did not come out at 330 im impatient and uhh he kinda did u dirty i apologize but yn is maybe a little dramatic IDK

“i think we should break up, yn,”

you blink, lifting your head up from where it was resting on his chest. your sudden movement knocks the laptop off of sunghoon’s lap, the movie you were watching continuing to play in the background as you stare at him.

“what? wait—are you serious?”

he sighs, running a hair through his messy hair, “yeah, i am,”

“that’s so random. we’re literally cuddling in your bed right now, sunghoon,”

you shouldn’t be getting angry with him, if he wants to break up then he’s allowed to—even if it hurts you more than anything. it just doesn’t make any sense as to why he wants to.

you can’t wrap your head around it, as far you know—or knew—you were perfectly fine. you’ve been together for three years, so obviously you’ve fought but it’s not like they were big fights. everything in your relationship was good. at least you thought it was, sunghoon didn’t apparently.

“i don’t know... i was just thinking, you know?”

you stare at him blankly because no, you didn’t know. you don’t get what’s going on at all.

you can see discomfort makes its way onto sunghoon’s face, his hand coming up to rub his neck awkwardly, “we should take a break,”

“a break or break up?” you ask, “they’re different things,”

you fully move away from him, pulling your legs from out of the covers, sitting as far away from him as you can. you stare at the floor as you wait for his response. he’s silent for too long and you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“break up, i guess. we can still be friends, though,” he reaches forward to grab your hand but you pull away, “i don’t want to lose you, yn,”

there’s a lot of things you want to say to say to him; that you can’t be friends, that he’s stupid for thinking that you would be fine with it. you want to tell him that you’re mad at him beyond belief for doing this out of nowhere. he could’ve at least broken up with you when you weren’t laying in his bed.

you don’t say any of these things, though. instead you nod, giving him a forced smile, “okay. if that’s what you want,”

“i’m really—”

you interrupt him before he can give you that dreaded apology, “i’m gonna go, i probably shouldn’t stay the night like we planned,”

you crawl out of bed, your feet landing on his carpeted floor. your back is to him and you hope and pray that he can’t hear the sharp breath slip from your mouth, keeping yourself from bursting out sobbing. you blink quickly, forcing your tears away and move around his room to grab your things.

“you don’t have to leave, it’s late,”

“it’s fine, hoon,” it’s not fine, “night,”

“okay.. text me when you get home?”

“yeah, sure.”

sunghoon is an idiot.

he's an idiot that you’re still friends with.

it’s been five months since the breakup and you’re still friends. you don’t want to be friends, but your desire to keep him in your life overpowers that. giselle and winter have both been telling you to move on, to cut him out of your life.

every single one of your friends can see how awful this is for you, especially with sunghoon still acting like he’s your boyfriend. it’s like nothing has changed between you two if you ignore the fact that you aren’t officially together anymore.

he even goes as far as to tell you about girls that he finds attractive. does he not know not to tell you stuff like? he doesn’t. he doesn’t get how horrible and heartbreaking it is for you to hear. having to sit there and hear him call other girls pretty is worse than anything you’ve ever had to experience, you think.

so after urging from both giselle and winter, you ghost him on the sixth month after your breakup. you don’t go to any of your previously planned hangouts (you give him some half-assed excuse about being ‘too busy’ when really you were just staying home and eating ice cream), you stop responding to his messages and eventually he stops sending them.

and you write about it.

you’ve written songs about him before, as embarrassing as it is to admit, but it’s how you express your feelings. the only difference is that they were love songs; songs about you pining over the boy, how you felt during your relationship, all of the good things about him. you’ve never written anything bad, not even during your first big argument.

you admittedly feel better after you’ve written everything down, but you also feel.. guilty. it’s like you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. it’s not like he cheated on you or neglected you or whatever other awful thing other songwriters have written about. he just broke up with you and tried to stay friends.

you eventually get over that guilt, thankfully. you know that you’re allowed to be upset and it’s not like he’s ever going to hear it. you’re sure he’s forgotten all about you already. maybe he even has a new girlfriend.

you try not to throw up at that thought.

you end up making a demo, send it to your agency, and it gets produced. after a month of promotion and teasers, it releases on the ninth of april. exactly one year after your break up. it blows up, much to your surprise—you weren’t necessarily a big artist but you weren’t super small, having around 840k monthly listeners but you weren’t expecting to make the billboard hot 100.

honestly, you should’ve expected sunghoon to find out about the song, but you weren’t. and needless to say, you were absolutely horrified when he sent you a message for the first time in half a year.

ㅤ ㅤ PREVIOUS ㅤ MASTERLIST ㅤ NEXT

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 days

Text

Cheater (Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig)

Description: Patrick cheats on Y/N and Tashi cheats on Art.

Warning: Cheating, Implied Smut

Word Count:908

“She’s into Art, and I’m into you. You have nothing to worry about.” 10 years ago, Patrick said those words to Y/N and she believed them. She believed them so much, she let him put a ring on her finger and marry her. That was a big mistake, a mistake that would cost her the next 10 years. She loved Patrick, oh how she loved him. But from the beginning there was something off. She couldn’t tell what it was but once she saw Tashi Duncan it all hit her. Patrick would tell her that he wasn’t into her and that Art was. Art was head over heels for Tashi but that didn’t mean that Patrick wasn’t. Patrick was a player, a womanizer that got away with a lot. He was good looking and he knew that so he used it to his advantage.

Him and Tashi had something that wasn’t love but truth be told Tashi didn’t love anyone. She loved Tennis. So when Patrick was playing in a challengers and saw that Art was there ,he knew Tashi was too. Art saw Y/N with Patrick and couldn’t believe that they were still together. Y/N was a smart woman, what the fuck was she doing with him? Tashi wanted no needed Art to win so she was going to do what she had to do to make it work. Y/N had this sick feeling in her stomach when she saw Tashi and Art. It had been so many years but yet it felt like it was just yesterday. In the steam room Patrick revealed to Art the one thing that he could use against him. Him fucking Tashi while being married to Y/N.

Art wanted to punch him and scream at him. “Yeah when we were teenagers, sure. Or Atlanta.” Art remembers that day that he saw Patrick and Tashi talking. He felt uneasy about it but Tashi told him that they just talked. Patrick just revealed that they fucked. “Y/N, You would do that to her?” Art asked him. “I didn’t want to. It was a mistake. I love Y/N.” Lies, he did want to. “Y/N doesn’t know, does she? Patrick shook his head. “I told myself I would never tell her. I can’t lose her man. I didn’t even expect to tell you but it just came out.” Art was mad, his wife fucked his ex best friend. Who wouldn’t be? He had to find Y/N and tell her. Get her away from Patrick just for a second. Y/N was always with Patrick and the one time she wasn’t he fucked Tashi. Art wasn’t aware of it and nor was Y/N. That was until he came home smelling like another woman.

She put two and two together and pretended to still be asleep. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but she couldn’t. One day before the final Art had gotten Y/N alone. “I know Art. I know about him cheating with Tashi.” “You know about Atlanta?” Confusion took over her face. “What?” She whispered. “Atlanta, that's when he cheated on you.” She shook her head, “Art.” “What were you talking about?” He asked her. “Last night.” He thought back to when Tashi wasn’t there and he slept with their daughter. “How do you know this?” “He came home smelling like another woman and I've always speculated that he was into her and she’s here so…” He looked at the ground for a solid minute. Neither of them said anything. Atlanta and last night. Patrick cheated on her twice. Tashi cheated on him twice. She looked at Art. “I think we’ve both been played.” She said, he nodded and looked up at her. “For the past 12 years.” Y/N didn’t know how it started but when it ended she felt relief.

She stared up at Art as he stopped thrusting. Both of them breathing heavy and looked fucked out. She had never viewed Art like that until now. “Should we tell them?” Oh he did and only Patrick would get it. It was Patrick’s turn to serve and he kept taking too long. But with the 3 bounces of the tennis ball and him putting the ball up to the center of the racket, Art knew what he was talking about. Art faked being shocked and upset at that. The crowd was confused as was Tashi and Y/N. Patrick got a point and when it was Art’s turn to serve, he did the same thing.

Patrick’s face dropped when he realized that Art meant he slept with Y/N and not Tashi. Patrick looked over at Y/N who looked at him. He looked back at Art and Art hit the ball, in shock Patrick didn’t hit the ball back. The crowd went wild as Art Donaldson won the match. Tashi was so happy but Art didn’t care. He stared at Patrick as Patrick froze. Y/N left the court without looking at Patrick, leaving him there. She got back to the hotel in time to gather her stuff to leave. She placed her wedding ring on the table next to the bed. No note or anything. It appears that whatever the signal was from the racket and ball they did gave away what happened. As she was leaving the hotel room she saw Art. She smiled at him and he smiled at her. Maybe this would bring them closer, maybe they were meant to be all along.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya

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literaila · 3 days

Note

do you ever think reader would storm out of the house after a fight between her & satoru? (referring to ur keeping secrets fic.) i feel like part of her wouldn’t bc she’s also thinking about the kids and she just can’t leave them, but she also seems a lot more grounded than satoru in general. i think the other part of her would also need a minute to step out for a bit bc i just know satoru drives her to insanity. i don’t knoww, satoru’s reaction to her storming out just infects my brain, but i know she couldn’t do that to megumi and tsumiki </3 i’m such a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics

“where are you going?”

“not sure,” satoru says, barely mumbling. “i didn’t ask.”

“you didn’t ask?”

he looks at you, just a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. but the rest of him is apprehensive—he knows what you’re thinking.

he always does.

but he looks back down, shoving shirts into a suitcase in the worst possible way.

“does it matter?” he asks, dryly. “it’s just another work trip.”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

“however long it takes to—“

“can i come with you?”

satoru pauses, and his eyes trail to you.

to you, where you’re standing in the doorway. you only know he’s leaving because of the suitcase, you only know that you can’t deal with him being gone again because of that feeling.

it’s reminiscent of packing your own bag at fifteen. of never returning home.

“you want to come?” satoru’s voice is too smooth, too unserious. “you hate planes. and what about work? you want to take your students too?”

“how long are you going to be gone?”

satoru sighs. he finally relents, walking over to you. his smile is a little irritated, tired. “it won’t take long,” he says, rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll get the bed all to yourself.”

“this is the fourth trip in the last three months.”

he tilts his head. “it’s the same amount as always.”

“it’s—“ you stop.

it’s different.

and your heart is racing, because you’re used to this feeling.

really, satoru has taken regular work trips for as long as you’ve known him. his passport is well used, his suitcase replaced almost once a year.

but it’s different.

because it used to be you, satoru, and the kids. it used to be you and the kids waiting at the door, talking about him behind his back, going to the airport to pick him up.

and even if you missed him, you knew that tsumiki missed him just as much. you knew that megumi was waiting for him to come back just the same—getting restless without someone there to mess with constantly.

it used to be you and the kids, when satoru was gone.

but now…

megumi is at school all week—and even when he comes home, it’s only to keep you happy. so that he can take a break from jujutsu, and sleeping in a dorm right next to yuji’s.

and tsumiki—

you stop thinking about that almost immediately.

it’s just not worth it.

when satoru leaves, you’re all alone.

“i wish you could come. you know how the higher ups are about—“

“why don’t you tell them no?”

satoru is wearing his blindfold, so you can’t see his eyes. but you see it as he leans back, looking at you curiously. “what?”

“tell them no. they’re scared of you, aren’t they? they’re not going to make you—“

“what other special grade sorcerer are they going to send?” he asks, shaking his head. “i hate them too, but if they need me—“

“i need you.”

satoru stops. you want to see his eyes—you want him to stay here.

you don’t want to walk around the house and chat with ghosts. you don’t want to be the only one left behind—the only one who has nothing else.

what about you? what’s supposed to happen to you when satoru leaves you behind?

he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.

“what?”

“i don’t understand why you have to go,” you say, and you’re angry now. “i’m tired of your work trips, and i hate that you don’t even care, and i hate being in the house all alone—“

“what? what do you mean i don’t care?”

you pull away from him. just to do it first. “you don’t even try to get someone else to do it, you just leave—“

“why are you blaming me? i didn’t ask for this.”

“because you’re always gone! and i’m always alone, and you haven’t even asked me how i feel about it—“

“it’s not like i enjoy doing it,” he says, frowning. “i don’t like leaving you or the kids, it’s just work—“

“i think you do enjoy it,” you spit. and you know that you shouldn’t but, “you like being the only one that they can call. being the strongest. that’s why you haven’t told them no, that’s why—“

“what?”

“is it fun to leave the house? to escape for a week or two while i’m here to take care of everything?”

satoru scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“what? you can admit it. go on and leave. you’ve done it before, satoru.”

his jaw clenches. “if you don’t like being here,” he says, so soft—but you can feel it. the impending blow. “then go somewhere else.”

immediately, your body flinches back. you fall inwards, wanting nothing more than to fall back against him.

but it’s too late.

“i can’t help that im the strongest, i don’t enjoy leaving you—but ill do it because it’s my job. if you hate being alone, then find something else. go see megumi, or nanami, or—“

you take a step back, almost stumbling into the wall.

“you’re putting words in my mouth and i—“

but you don’t hear the rest of that sentence.

and maybe this is your fault. you shouldn’t have picked a fight, you shouldn’t have even said anything.

satoru isn’t to blame for your loneliness. he isn’t to blame for anything.

you turn around. and you walk out the door with shaking hands.

go somewhere else, he said.

and you will.

#to answer your question #i doubt reader would ever leave the house as long as the kids were there #and also the series might not make this very evident #but i don’t think they actually fight much #only when one of them is avoiding their feelings 🙄#even this fight feels kind of… unnatural? for them #and i think satoru would always leave first #because he’s definitely the meaner one when it comes to his anger #i mean in general he’s nicer #but i know he’s got a vicious fury to him #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo

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anothermansjeans · 24 hours

Text

surprise, surprise

s.r x fem!reader

cw: fluff, bau has nooooo idea about reader, food mention

wc: 831

summary: spencer comes home from a case on his birthday and has a surprise waiting for him at the office... turns out it's a surprise for the bau too

a/n: this was a request from @formula1-motogpfan i hope i hit all of the marks with this! let me know what you think!!

masterlist

Walking into the BAU after another long case meant so much to the team. It meant they would get their mandatory three day break. It meant they could go home and sleep in their own beds. It meant Spencer got to spend his birthday with Y/N. The team had wished him a happy birthday earlier in the day, asking him if he would like to do something once they got back. Of course, he said no. He didn't tell them his exact plans, but they knew it involved going straight home.

He texted her the moment they touched down; a habit formed after Spencer stayed extra late to finish paperwork, which caused her to worry a lot.

Spencer: I’m back, love. I’ll be leaving as soon as possible.

The team was gathering their stuff to head back to the FBI, and when there was still no response from her as they pulled into the parking garage, he began to worry. She normally responded within five minutes of him sending the text, no matter what time of day it was. Because of dread and anxiety running through him, he wanted to get in and out of the building as fast as humanly possible without the team becoming suspicious of his actions.

As a group, they walked in, and Hotch slowed his pace, causing the rest of them to look over at him. There was a woman standing near Spencer’s desk. “Ma’am, can I help–”

Hotch didn't get to finish his question because when she turned around, Spencer pushed past the rest of the team and quickly walked over to her. A word or two was exchanged and the team watched as they latched their lips together, completely in shock.

“I didn't think he took that ‘kissing has less germs’ fact so seriously,” Emily said, staring at the scene in front of her.

“He doesn't,” Derek started, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by Penelope.

“I’m so glad you're back safely- Oh!”

Now everyone was standing there, watching Spencer and this strange woman share a kiss and hug. Derek cleared his throat, obviously stunned but not too stunned to speak. “Okay, Pretty Boy, you mind introducing us?”

The two (apparent) lovers split apart, Spencer turning to his team with pink dusted cheeks and bruised lips. He didn't say anything for a good minute, only moving to speak when a soft, “babe,” was heard from beside him.

“Oh! Uh, this is– this is my girlfriend. Y/N.”

She waved to the group with a shy smile.

“Girlfriend!?” Penelope practically shrieked, causing the floor to quiet down for a moment. “Sorry, girlfriend? For how long?”

“One year, eight months, three weeks, and twenty-three days.”

Everyone from Rossi and Hotch to JJ and Penelope was shocked. Emily was the only one who could seem to speak. “You've had a secret girlfriend for over a year– almost two years?”

“Not a secret!” His head whipped over to his girlfriend, “you were never a secret.”

“I know, baby,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down.

“This is insane,” Penelope said as her shocked expression turned into a smile, “like, insanely amazing! Our boy genius found love!”

“Alright,” Hotch cut in, him and Rossi moving from the group, “it’s getting late. Paperwork can wait until we get back into the office. Reid, happy birthday again, and I’m happy for you.” A nod was shared between the two as Hotch went into his office, and Rossi squeezed Spencer’s shoulder as he passed him.

“So what made you show up here suddenly?” JJ’s question caused the attention to go back on Y/N and Spencer.

Y/N cleared her throat and laced her hands down with one of Spencer’s. “Well, I wanted to surprise him for his birthday and I made a cake. I thought everyone here could enjoy it with him.” She moved towards the side to show the box she brought placed on Spencer’s desk. “I could get out of your way if you want to celebrate.”

“Stay!” Penelope again, practically shrieked in the common area, “let’s move it into the conference room. Spencer, you, Emily, JJ, and my chocolate thunder go ahead. Y/N and I will grab some plates and napkins!”

She quickly went up to Y/N and linked their arms together, pulling her away from Spencer and into the kitchen. Y/N looked over her shoulder a couple of seconds after walking away, sending him a smile.

“We’re really happy for you, Spence,” JJ said, walking up to him next to Emily as they started towards the conference room.

“She's pretty. And we can tell she makes you happy,” Emily followed.

When it was just Derek and Spencer, Spencer looked over at the other man as he picked up the cake and ushered them both towards the round table. “You're lucky, Reid.”

“I know.” And he did know. He was really lucky.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds

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papercorgiworld · 2 days

Text

Two idiots in love

A Theodore Nott imagine

I’m back! Apologies for my silence. Especially to the ones who’ve been sending me love, but I was really busy and barely had any time to open this app or my phone in general. I got this post and a few more coming in the next few days. I had a very productive evening and day so, yey me. Sending you lots of love! Happy readings!

— The request —

Plss do a Theodore fic where he tutors the reader in potions or something and he’s a bit rude but like sweet at the same time??? Idk like he thinks she really cute but can’t believe someone can be so dumb

— The writing —

Theodore was a quiet guy and not one to make a move on just any girl. Unless drunk, then he might end up in a bathroom with some equally wasted girl for a little make out, but actively searching for a girlfriend just seemed like so much work to Theo. He much rather just hang out with his friends and skip class to have a smoke.

However, this did not mean that he was immune to having a crush. Oh no, he had a crush and the worst case of crushing. He was constantly thinking about you and stealing glances whenever he could. It wasn’t on him, you were just too damn perfect. It was almost annoying Theodore how amazing you were.

“Hey, Theo mate. I have a question.” Enzo quips as he takes a seat opposite of Theodore and reaches for some toast. “No.” Theodore answers without looking up from his plate, making Mattheo and Blaise smirk, but Enzo isn’t fazed at all. “Fine. Your loss. I’ll just have to tutor (y/n) myself.” Theodore’s eyes shoot up to meet Enzo’s with a piercing look to determine whether his friend was bullshitting him or not. Enzo’s smile reveals his amusement but also that he was telling the truth. “She needs a tutor?” Theodore says with a calm voice, though there is an obvious hint of excitement in it. “Yes, apparently she blew her last potions test… like big time. And she’s so desperate to fix her grade she asked me to ask you, apparently ‘the smartest guy in class’ - her words not mine - to tutor her. I’m assuming you’re interested?” She thinks I’m the smartest guy in class. So she’s noticed me. She knows who I am. She knows I’m smart. That’s good. Really good. She knows me. “Theo?” Enzo askes breaking Theo’s train of thoughts. “Uhm-Yeah-I… I’ll think about it. If I have time. And stuff.” Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo stare Theodore with wide eyes. “Someone hit him.” Blaise finally speaks and Mattheo nods before raising his hand to smack Theo’s head. “If I have the time, bloody idiot.” Theodore pushes Matt’s hand away and narrows his eyes at Mattheo’s mockery and insult. “Just say you’ll do it.” Enzo urges and Theo looks at him for a second before nodding in agreement.

***

Pretty. Perfect. Potions-Peanut. Theo thought as he watched you screw up a simple brew for the third time, like he hadn’t just explained to you step by step how to do it. He was falling in love even more as you sighed and stared at your cauldron and back at your instructions. “I think I messed it up again.” Theodore chuckles at your sad and defeated expression. “You think?!” Theo jokes, but immediately worries that that might be a bit rude of him. “But uhm-do you know where it went wrong?” He asks and you focus on your instructions again in search of which step you screwed up. Your eyebrows knit together even more and Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. “You really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?” You drop your head a little. Great, I'm making a total fool of myself in front of Theodore Nott. Not only am I ruining my fantasy of ever having a chance with him, now he and his friends will be laughing at me for the rest of the year…

“You can’t be this dumb? Check again, you’ll find it.” Theo breaks the silence and your eyes meet his with a hesitant look, before quickly searching for an answer on the list of instructions. Yes, I just called her dumb. Good work, Theo. Theodore grits his teeth as his anger with himself grows. After a few seconds of you searching for how you screwed up your potion and Theodore searching for something right to say, you are the first to speak up. “I give up, I suck at potions.” You let the paper in your hands fall on the desk in front of you and turn to look at Theo who gives you a surprisingly sweet smile. “Yeah you do, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll explain it again…and better this time.”

Your heart melts at his sweet voice and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You really don’t have to waste your whole evening explaining potions to me, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Theodore smirks at your blushed cheeks. “I’m sure I won’t be teaching you potions all night. At some point you’ll get it and successfully brew this… and then we can move on to more interesting subjects.” You look back at the papers on the desk and press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like a love struck fool, while Theo's smug eyes scan your face with satisfaction. “Dumb, but so adorable.”

“What?” You look up at Theo and he looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” He chuckles awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh. “I might be dumb, but you’re a first class idiot as well.” Theodore rolls his eyes, while an amused smile tugs on his lips. She’s right about that. I am an idiot. He reaches for the books on the desk, forcing his smile into a line. “Let’s just focus on potions.” You chuckle at his flusteredness. “Sure.”

Both flustered your glance over at one another only to catch the other one already staring. The potion might not have been right, but the chemistry definitely was.

***

“Sooo, how did the tutoring go?” Mattheo asks as he catches up with Theodore in the hallway. “Great.” Theodore answers, but avoids eye contact with his friend, making him suspicious. “Great? What does that mean, she understands the material now?” Theodore chuckles and his tongue darts in his mouth. “No, she still doesn’t get it. Which means she needs another session. So, it went great.” Theodore explained, unable to hide his happiness now that he gets to spend more time with you. Mattheo just shakes his head in amusement.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 15 hours

Text

Noise Complaint (Chris)

Request: none

Warnings: secret relationship, semi public sex(hotel room), protective triplets, slightly possessive chris, degradation, filming/pictures, praise kink, daddy kink, getting caught by a fan, being found out by Matt and Nick, super rough sex, dom!chris, lingerie, choking, slapping, spanking, oral(male receiving), cum swallowing, creampie, facefucking, hair pulling, choking, maybe more idk

A/N: this was written when they were on the versus tour which is why it obviously mentions the tour

Y/n’s pov

We were going into week three of the boys’ tour and it was getting increasingly harder for Chris and I to hide the fact that we’re dating. Nobody knew, not even his brothers or Madi, who’s my best friend. At home, it’s a lot easier to hide the fact that we’re dating because Chris and I have always been super close, so us going to “hang out” alone wasn’t abnormal. Thankfully I was invited to go on tour with them since Madi couldn’t go this time, meaning I would have to share one of the two rooms with one of the triplets. You’d probably expect me to be sharing a room with Nick, which I wouldn’t mind considering he’s one of my best friends, but Chris had managed to convince both Matt and Nick to let him sleep in the same room with me by claiming he needs to cuddle with someone when he’s not sleeping in his own house. Since we’d usually get one room with two beds and the other with only one bed, neither Nick nor Matt wanted to have to share a bed or cuddle with Chris so they had “forced” me to be the one sharing a bed with Chris. Not that I was complaining anyways.

This was basically the only time when we could be completely alone however, Matt and Nick always had the room next to us meaning we could never have sex if fear of them hearing us. Luckily for us, the hotel we were staying at tonight only had rooms on separate floors. Currently, we were at the venue getting ready for the meet and greet as we just finished the show, everyone was still dressing in the color for their team. My color being red, I wore black cargo pants with white stitching, a red belt, a red corset top, and red Jordans, I paired my outfit with some silver jewelry and some basic makeup, adding winged eyeliner and red lipstick. As soon as I walked out of my dressing room, Chris pushed me back into it, “You look so fucking hot right now babe, I don’t know how I’m gonna control myself out there.” he said trying to go in for a kiss but I had to swerve it. Chris started pouting as I said “Sorry handsome, I don’t want to get any lipstick on you. We don’t want anyone to find out we’re dating, remember?” “Yeah, yeah, I just don’t know how I’m going to control myself out there because if I’m being honest, all I want to do right now is rip your clothes off and fuck you.” he said as we walked towards the door to leave.

We met back up with Nick and Matt as we all walked out to the meet and greet area and started taking pictures with fans. There was this one guy who came up to me and started flirting, I could tell that Chris was irritated but it’s not like he could do anything about it. “You’re hot, can I get your number and take you out to dinner? You know, maybe I can get you away from these boys and show you what I can do.” the guy said, making me slightly uncomfortable. Luckily for me, Nick saw this and came over to us “Hey man, can you not talk to her like that and move on to she can take pictures with non-creepy people? Thanks.” he said shooing him away. The guy did leave, but Chris still kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye to make sure nobody else bothered his girl.

After the meet and greet, we had all decided to go get dinner at a restaurant, and guess who just so happened to be our waiter? The creepy guy from earlier, and I think all the boys could tell he was making me uncomfortable. Due to this Nick ordered for me so I wouldn’t have to talk to him and we got threw dinner without an incident, well except for when we got our receipt, which had his number on it. I could literally feel the jealousy radiating off of Chris as we waited for our Uber, “Chris what’s wrong? You look super pissed off, are you okay?” Matt had asked him. “I’m fine, I just want to be at the hotel already.” Chris replied through gritted teeth making both his brothers give him a weird look before we got inside the Uber and went back to the hotel. Laura had met us in the lobby, handing us our room keys and telling us our room numbers as all five of us piled in the elevator. Laura got off first, then Matt and Nick, as soon as the doors closed Chris grabbed my hand, “I don’t like people flirting with you, I wanna punch them all in the face.” he said while rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand as we walked to our room

As soon as we got inside our bedroom, Chris pushed me up against the door “I want my fucking kiss now, you’ve had me so hard all day.” he said before capturing my lips in a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with his hair as our kiss turned into a heavy makeout. He started pressing his body against mine so I could feel how hard he was before he pulled away, “I’ve been waiting to do that all day. God, Y/n/n you look so hot in this outfit, shit I never thought you wearing red lipstick would make me so fucking hard, you’re gonna have to start wearing it more often.” Chris told me. I had a little surprise for him, I had just been waiting for when we could get the chance to fuck on tour, I bought it at one of our stops after hearing Chris say I looked hot in red a million times. “Would you do me a favor?” I asked him in a seductive voice, continuing to speak after he nodded “Can you go stand in the bathroom for like five minutes, please? It’ll be worth it, I promise you’ll like it.” “Ughhh you know I don’t like surprises!” he whined. “You’ll like this one I promise!” I told him as I shoved him into the bathroom, I quickly went to change into a pair of red heels and a lacy red lingerie set before quickly reapplying some lipstick.

I sat down on the edge of the bed before telling Chris he could come out, “This better not be som- holy fuck!” he cut himself off as he stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away from me. “Do you like it, baby?” I asked innocently, he was at a loss for words, only being able to mutter out a delayed “Uh-huh, really like it…” as I stood up and walked over to him. Chris couldn’t stop staring at every move I made, I grabbed his hand and led him over to sit on the bed. He slid off his shirt and shoes as his eyes continued to scan my body, “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me or are you going to use me like I planned on letting you?” I said as I traced my finger across his jawline, tilting his head up to look at me. His lips were wet and red as he kept licking and biting at them and his eyes were so blown out that you could barely see a small sliver of blue.

Chris quickly stood up to take his pants off before sitting against the headboard, pulling me with him “As much as I love those heels, Imma need to take them off because you’re gonna be real uncomfortable wearing those in a bit.” he said making me take them off, instantly pulling me onto his lap when I was done. He grabbed the back of my head before smashing our lips together in a hot and needy kiss, he swiped his tongue across my bottom lip while pulling me hair causing me to gasp, giving him a chance to slide his tongue into my mouth. Chris suck and licked my tongue and lips, letting out a deep groan when I started slowly grinding on him, his hands quickly making their way down to my ass with a tight grip. He slowly pulled away biting my lip, ��God, I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight! You’re gonna be so full my cum like the filthy little whore you are, gotta show you who you fucking belong to after that guy flirted with you today!” he growled into my ear.

I knew he was serious when he said I’d be filled with his cum considering neither of us had cum since tour started. I started trailing kisses down his neck and chest, disappointed that I couldn’t leave any hickies “Look like such a slut right now, wish I could take pictures and shit because you look fucking hot.” Chris groaned. I stopped kissing his body and looked at him from between his legs with an innocent smile “Who said you couldn’t? You can take videos of me sucking your cock or fucking me for all I care.” When I said that Chris groaned and his cock twitched. You could tell he was constantly dripping precum from the growing wet patch on his gray boxers. After a second he stood up and grabbed my wrist, dragging me with him before he grabbed his phone out of his pants “Get on your fucking knees for me, I’m taking you up on that offer.” he said while caressing my face before pushing me onto my knees.

He pushed down his boxers, stepping out of them before he tapped his cock against my lips, I quickly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out waiting for him to put it in my mouth. He placed his thick cock onto my tongue before thrusting into my mouth, pushing some hair out of face while I sucked on the tip. “Can I really record you baby?” he asked while caressing my face, I pulled off of him for a second, using my hand to continue to stroke him. “Yes baby, you can record it and take pictures of whatever you want tonight.” I told him before deep throating him, Chris let out a loud groan before he started to record me. I looked up at the camera innocently as I started sucking him off “Put your hands behind your, I’m gonna fuck that pretty little face of yours.” he said as he placed his hand on the back of my head.

I placed my hands behind my back as Chris started slowly thrusting his cock into my mouth, I hollowed out my cheeks making him let out a low groan. He started fully fucking my face roughly causing me to gag when his tip would hit the back of my throat. I started to whine and moan against him when he started fisting my hair and pulling it, the constant abuse of my throat combined with him pulling my hair caused tears to start falling down my face. “God, you look so pretty like this for me! Next time I’m gonna cum all over your slutty face!” he grunted out, making me whine around him again. I felt his cock twitch before his grip on my hair got tighter and he’s thrusts grew erratic. “You gonna let me cum down your slutty little throat baby?” he asked, I moaned around him as a response before his hips sputtered.

Chris shoved my face down so his cock was literally down my throat, my nose pressed against his pubic bone. “Fuck baby, so good for me.” he praised as he came before pulling out of my mouth. “Open your mouth for me.” he said making me quickly oblige, showing him my mouth full of cum. “Swallow.” I did as he said, sticking my tongue out to show him I did what he asked before he stopped the video. After he caught his breath he helped me stand up, “As hot as you look in this I need it off, right now.” he growled helping me take the lingerie off. Once Chris had helped me undress, he cupped my face in his hands to wipe the dried tears and mascara off my cheeks. Chris sat up against the headboard again, telling me to sit on his lap. He grabbed my throat to pull me into another rough kiss harshly sucking on my tongue, groaning when he felt my wetness spread across his cock, which was already hard again.

Quickly flipping us over, pushing my right leg up against my chest before slamming into me. I let out a loud moan as he gave me no time to adjust before he was pounding into me. “Fuck, so goddamn tight for me! You like being treated like a slut don’t you? Such a good girl.” he grunted as I scratched my nails done his back. “Yes! Yes, your good girl daddy! Please, so good!” I moaned incoherently. “Please what baby? What do you want?” he asked me but I couldn’t explain what I wanted as he was pounding into me so roughly and it felt so good. Since I was whining and moaning so much I just grabbed his hand, making him lightly slap my face. “You want me to hit you? God, you’re such a kinky whore!” he loud groaned before actually slapping my face making me let out an extremely loud, high pitched moan as I came around him. Chris grabbed my jaw harshly, getting closer to my face “Fucking bitch! I didn’t say you could cum, you didn’t even fucking ask!” he growled at me before slapping me again as I cried out, quickly becoming overstimulated. “Open your damn mouth!” I did as he said before Chris spit into my mouth making me whine “Fucking swallow bitch!” he said and I quickly obliged.

Me and Chris have never had such rough sex before but we were both living for it, not even registering the fact that we were in a hotel room and the people next to us could probably hear our moans. Chris suddenly pulled out making me whimper, “Hands and knees slut.” he ordered and I quickly did as he said. He pushed on my back making me arch it before he licked from my clit all the way to my ass hole, loudly groaning as he pulled away. “I’m gonna fuck your tight ass one day and you’re gonna let it happen.” he said before slapping my ass. “Chris please, need your cock back inside me.” I begged “You’re fucking greedy aren’t you?” he asked rhetorically as he ran his tip through my folds teasingly.

Chris then started thrusting into me at a slow pace, “Faster daddy, please!” I asked in a whine voice. He started thrusting quickly and hard, his nails digging into my hips as a form of leverage. Both of us were being extremely loud at this point since this new angle felt amazing, he had leaned forward to play with my nipples. He knew my nipples were extremely sensitive so he used that to his advantage, relishing in the fact that he was the only person to make me feel this way. With the combination of Chris playing with my nipples, aggressive thrusts, and loud groans he was letting in my ear were getting me extremely close to cumming again. “Mmm please can I cum daddy? Feels s-so good don’t stop! F-Fuck please!” I cried out making Chris let out an almost animalistic growl in my ear. “You can cum but I’m not fucking stopping!” he said moving one of his hands to my throat. I came around his cock for the second time tonight, crying as I was extremely overstimulated.

Chris pulled back to sit up straight again on his knees when suddenly our hotel phone started to ring. He slowed down his thrust, making me whine before going to pick up the phone. “Be quiet baby.” he told me, still slowly pumping in and out of me, Chris cleared his throat before actually answering the phone. “Um hello?” he asked confused, I started thrusting back against him causing Chris to completely stop moving and slap my ass harshly. “Uh oh okay, y-yea. I’m s-sorry.” he replied to whatever the person on the other end of the phone said before hanging up. Slapping my ass one time before flipping me over, looking down at me with a stupid smile. “We just got a noise complaint, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop. It just means you need to shut the fuck up!” he laughed before thrusting back into me.

Chris once again started thrusting into me but this time he smashed our lips together in an attempt to stifle my moans. These thrusts weren’t as rough as before, but they were still quite fast as we were both nearing our orgasms. We pulled away for just a second, Chris saying “Shit baby are you close? Because I’m about to fucking cum in you!” I just nodded in response not wanting to be loud again. He brought his hand down to rub my clit in fast, tight circles as he pressed our lips together again. After a few more thrusts, I was cumming around his cock with a whine, this caused Chris to cum as well. Filling me up before slowly pulling out, using his fingers to collect the cum dripping out of me only to shove them in my mouth a second later. He laid down next to me as we caught our breath for a minute.

Once our breath was back to normal Chris stood up before grabbing my hand and helping me up as well. My legs were trembling and it was kind of hard to stand but we silently walked over to the bathroom. Chris told me to pee while he turned the shower on, going back out into our room to grab our toothbrushes, my hair brush and, my makeup wipes before returning. We took a quick shower using the soaps that the hotel had in there before we got out. Chris wrapped one of the big white fluffy towels around me before grabbing another one for himself, I grabbed one of the smaller towels to wrap my hair in making chris giggle. “You look cute like that babe.” he said sarcastically as we got ready to brush our teeth. I used a makeup wipe to get the rest of my makeup off my face and some red smudges of lipstick off from around Chris’ lips. He insisted on blowing my hair so I didn’t argue and just let him do it since my legs were still shaky and I was tired.

Once we were done in the bathroom we went over to our suitcases to get changed, I wore an oversized shirt and panties while Chris just wore some boxers before we climbed into bed and went to sleep. We woke up at 7am as we needed to get back on the bus to drive to our next location, quickly getting dressed in some comfy clothes and brushing our teeth before gathering our things to meet Nick, Matt, and Laura in the lobby. Unfortunately for us, we walked out at the same time as the person from next door that made the noise complaint. We were just going to ignore her until she said our names, “Y/n? Chris? You guys were the ones fucking extremely loud next door?” she asked making us both blush and turn around. Chris awkwardly scratched the back of his neck before sheepishly nodding “Oh my god are you guys dating!? That’s so cute I love it! Oh shit did I ruin your night last night?” the fan said super fast.

“You can’t tell anyone about this!” Chris and I said at the same time, not wanting this to get out. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re dating yet, not even his brother know so could you please keep this private and between us?” I asked nervous. She agreed to do so as long as we followed her fan and main accounts on insta, which we obviously did before taking a quick picture with her. As we started to walk away, Chris turned around again “Oh and by the way, you didn’t ruin our night, you just made us realize we gotta be more quiet.” he said while laughing. We got into the elevator to go down to the lobby when Chris grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a quick passion kiss, pulling away right before the doors opened. Nick and Matt got into the elevator with us, Nick seemed to be oblivious but Matt gave us a weird look. “Why are you two blushing and shit?” he asked suspiciously, but luckily for us the elevator doors opened and we walked out to meet with Laura to go to the bus. Once we got settled in on the bus, Matt looked over to Nick before saying “You owe me 50 bucks, they’re definitely dating so pay up” making Chris and I blush.

“How do you know that? We’ve been so careful!” Chris exclaimed as Nick looked at us, irritated because he owes Matt money now, “I don’t know, maybe it’s the because she’s wearing your hoodie or the fact that you have pink lipgloss on your lips” Nick said. Both brothers started laughing but quickly stopped when Chris said “Well at least I scan do this more often” pulling me in for a quick kiss. Both boys gave us a cheesy smile as they were happy that we were finally dating before we all drifted back off to sleep.

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