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#are you all okay? I hope so! and if not. I hope you be better soon❤️
golden-cherry · 2 days
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deal - cl16 (28/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.
Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit
Word Count: 4.5k
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A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!
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"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."
Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"
Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."
Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."
Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 
Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.
Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."
You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"
He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 
His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."
He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 
Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 
Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.
He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 
Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."
Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 
He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."
You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"
"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 
"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 
"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"
The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 
"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 
"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 
Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 
"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-
"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 
When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 
"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.
Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 
So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?
You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 
What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 
Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 
You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."
The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 
Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 
The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 
Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 
You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 
You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 
Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?
And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.
You: You're the best. See you soon.
While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 
When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 
"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 
"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 
You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 
"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."
"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 
"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
"I guess so."
He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."
Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"
Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"
"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."
You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 
He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 
"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 
You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 
Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?
But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 
And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 
Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?
You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 
"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 
"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 
"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"
Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."
Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.
The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 
"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"
You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 
"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"
"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 
"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 
"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."
When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."
"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."
"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 
"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 
"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 
"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."
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slvttyplum · 3 days
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suguru hated how infatuated you were with satoru, even though he knew you meant no harm whenever you spoke about him, it still made him upset. you were supposed to be paying attention to him not satoru and the more you spoke about hm, the more suguru went out of his way to prove to you that he was better than him in all aspects.
including sex.
there was no better way to prove that you were better than someone than to prove how good you were at sex, and that's exactly what suguru did. was this petty? yes, but he wasn't going to have you drooling out the mouth about satoru so he did the only thing he could think of.
“do you want to fuck satoru?” bouncing his leg while you were on his lap, this wasn't a joke or a trick, he wanted a genuine answer. horror coating your face as you look at him, no smirk or sadness on his expression, just his regular resting face, his arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb rubbing over your hip.
“no.” just a one word answer hoping he won't dig deeper into it, and he didn't, instead he did what he had to do to prove to you that he was better than satoru, the no showed him everything he needed to see. taking the rubber band that he had resting on his wrist and tying his hair back and grabbing you by the neck, giving you a kiss.
his hand sliding to the back of your neck, resting as you fully emerge into the kiss, his sweet taste on yours. once you closed your eyes to kiss him, the next time you opened them you were on the bed and holding up your legs for suguru so that he could fuck you.
“i want you to know… that you'll always be mine okay?” and with that he lined himself up and pushed into you, letting out a groan of pleasure, your walls wrapped around him and squeezing him.
suguru proving to you that he was the overall better choice than satoru went on for two weeks straight, him beating your pussy in until he was physically tumbling over from how weak your pussy got him. you didn't know why he was fucking you the way he was, but you weren't complaining, it was like getting a reward every time you came home to suguru bending you over the counter and sliding down your panties just to eat your pussy from the back.
he knew he shouldn't have been jealous but the line of you going out to actually fuck satoru was too thin, so he had to make you fucked out for you not to do that and he succeeded. by the end of every night, the sheets were drenched with three different fluids, and you were asleep beside him as he cleaned you up, mumbling to yourself in your sleep his name.
maybe this wasn't about satoru but more about him wanting to fuck you to sleep every night, either way he loved to please you so that's what he was going to do.
“no one else can fuck you the way i fuck you… say it.” while pushing your thighs into your chest and kissing you, tears in the corner of your eyes as he pushes deep inside of you, the tip of his dick pressing on your sweet spot making your heart beat faster and pleasure jolt throughout your body. that's all suguru wanted, he wanted to hear you say those words.
to hear you say that his dick was better than anyone else's and that he's the only one who could make you cum, and all of that was true, so he wanted to hear you blabber that while he pushed his dick inside of you with no mercy.
“mm, no one else can fuck me like you suguru.” the way you said his name sent tingles throughout his spine, he didn't want to slide out of you. he wanted to stay buried deep inside of you until your pussy remembered his shape, and only he could slide into you with ease.
“there we go. that's my good girl.”
after two full weeks of fucking you nonstop with no breaks, you never brought up satoru again, suguru knew all he needed to do was fuck him out of your mind.
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chrissshub · 2 days
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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
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°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
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In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 
 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 
 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 
As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?” 
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 
Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
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TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk
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blue-jisungs · 2 days
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hi omg I loved all ur “u sleep with plushies” for each svt unit, may I req a hhu ver ??? all of the other units were so cute😭💗
you still sleep with plushies ♡
author's note. thank you hehe!!! it was so fun to do, sorry it took so long tho:(
vcu ver && perf ver
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┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]
he never considered it a problem?
like he’s been at your place a couple of times and noticed the plushies, thinking it’s just really cute :(
i mean come on, some of his members heave weirder habits (like sleeping with their eyes open…)
so when you asked him if that bothers him, seungcheol was offended that you even thought!!! about it!!!
however . . .
when he does sleep at your place, you two all cuddled up and comfy
and then… he wakes up only to see your back
okay, it happens… maybe you were uncomfortable
BUT THEN HE SEES YOU’RE CLUTCHING A TEDDY TO YOUR CHEST!!! INSTEAD OF HIM!!
he’s so sulky, good luck with that …..
you explain that it’s just your comfort plushie and that you cuddled it out of habit :(
so cheol insists that he can be way better than it and begs you to let him stay one more night to prove his point ☝️
and he kinda does, he becomes your new giant, warm and loving teddy bear <3
┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]
wonwoo noticed before you could tell him
well, you really thought you were slick when you didn’t bother hiding them because you hoped he’d think they’re there for the aesthetics
or when you two went shopping and your eyes widened upon seeing a cute plushie:(
yeah, he knows
but he thinks it’s really cute, especially if you have that one specific plushie ever since you could remember and you always sleep with it
so not to make a fool out of yourself in front of his friends, you don’t take it with you when you go on a trip with them
after whole day of fun, it’s time to sleep in the cabin
and wonwoo notices that you’re constantly squirming around, unable to fall sleep
and you confess that it’s because you didn’t bring your plushie:(
so he offers to be the plushie for the night, reassuring you that he doesn’t mind and you can cuddle him as much you wanna
and that may have been a risky decision because ever since…… well, he is one of your plushies now ^__^
┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]
you decided to invite your boyfriend over and share a secret with him
mentally, you got ready to get teased about it
but you when mingyu entered your bedroom he didn’t even notice the plushies 🧍‍♀️
he was just happy that u let him in your personal space and looked around your room with hearts in his eyes, like a kid in a candy store
"so you don’t mind the plushies?" you mumbled, plopping down on your bed and holding one for emotional support
"the pl– oh? ah, baby…" he groaned and swore his knees got weak; you’re just too cute for his own good
he doesn’t mind, at all - which you’re kinda surprised but happy
he does get pouty if you cuddle a plushie to sleep instead of him >:T
sometimes will spray his cologne on your (or his) favorite one so you could feel like he’s here when he’s out having schedules ☹️
might steal a one or two to his apartment, esp puppy ones 💔
┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]
i mean we all know nonnie, he’s really chill about everything (welp, except bugs but—)
so when you were facetiming him once and you noticed your plushies are on camera, you started panicking
"yo, what is it? did something happen?" he asked, noticing something’s wrong
"yeah… no… well…" you stuttered, not sure how to answer "did you see that?"
"what? that big spider behind you?" he stuttered and soon after laughed upon seeing your scared face "sorry, it was a bad joke… hey, don’t get sulky…"
"i meant my plushies…" you mumbled and pulled one closer
"oh them? yeah, and? you always have them. say hi to gerard by the way" vernon nodded
what.
there’s no gerard in your collection but later on you realised he meant (plushie name)
like really,, he doesn’t care in a way that – he doesn’t mind you having them
he does care about them, though :(
will put a blanket on them if he thinks they’ll get cold or carefully reads all the corners of the internet before putting them into a washing machine:(
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee
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lecl3rcw · 1 day
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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader
_______________________
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.
“You won’t believe it.” She says
“What?”
“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her
“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs
“….”
“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”
“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.
“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.
“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”
“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.
“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.
“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.
“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.
The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.
“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says
“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.
Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.
"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.
“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.
“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”
“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,
“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.
The week came even before she could blink.
“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.
When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.
“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.
“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.
She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.
“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.
“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.
Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.
Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.
joeyb_9 started following you
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y/n.leclerc
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y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others
alexandrasaintmleux mami😍
^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍
charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….
^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪
fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!
^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES
joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype
^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”
rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️
^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹
bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍
^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
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inkyray · 2 days
Note
your sick matt fic was so good!! can u make a part 2 sorta (or not) where hes finally recovered but now his gf gets sick and he has to take care of her?
a/n: got to writing immediately i fear
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content ahead/warnings: sick!reader x matt sturniolo, vomiting, fluff, not proof read lol, other shit idk
part 2 to this
TOLD U SO
A rush of utter heat wraps you whole, and you feel unconsciously frustrated as you twist and turn from out of Matt's grasp. Hoping for some sort of light and feathery breeze to hit your sleeping body.
You subconsciously begin whining in your sleep, the feeling of only hot and thick air doing nothing to cleanse your body, your nose stuffing itself from a simple sniff of air. You raise a few fingers to rub your still-closed eyes together, meeting directly with your burning sticky skin. Your unreasonably high body temperature sends a quick shock through your body, still rubbing your eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Matt shifted to his side, his voice low, gravelly, and husk. Without even considering your options, you immediately shake your head no. His large hands make their way to your forehead, and he feels himself getting upset. "You're burning hot, sweetheart."
If you were half asleep before, you were now just opening your eyes. An undeniable wave of physical exhaustion punching you in every bone of your body. "I told you, we shouldn't have kissed. You were too close to me the entire night, I knew you'd get sick too." He huffs, stressed out for you, his hands pressing the hair that stuck to your face due to accumulated sweat out of the way. You frown deep.
"You got me sick." You point out, your soft voice matching his with its roughness crackles, you feel your sore throat form almost immediately and you wince. "No, you're the one who kept wanting to kiss me and rub all up on me." He shrugged in defense and you can't argue with that.
"As long as I get to kiss you some more today."
He chuckles, able to get up from the spot on the bed and head for his bathroom. "You're unbelievable, kid."
Your eyes dart to the sound of the running bathroom sink and the gross sloth feeling of continuing to lay in this bed any longer. As soon as you were back to normal, you would be deep cleaning this room front to back. You stiffen, making up the mental courage to lift yourself out of the bed.
Lifting your head up first, a wave of utter wonkiness punches you in the face, your head feels like it is spinning in your mind. The migraine was forming now, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, making it to the bathroom.
You mentally feel the strength of your legs and thighs even when still laying on the bed, and then you look at the ground. You huff a whine, your body too hot for your skin. "Matt." You call for him, he answers immediately with a "You okay, sweetheart?", the sound of foam and a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Help me make it to the bathroom." You murmur, softly peeling the blankets from off of you. Matt walks back in, and in seconds he scoops you up. With a hand under both your knees for support and a large hand on your back, he takes you to the bathroom as you yelp at the sudden action. You figured the soup you made him last night definitely helped.
"Feeling better, hm?" You mutter, holding onto his neck for better support. He turns his head to look at you, kissing your lips with a long peck before kissing your neck, you get a mild taste of toothpaste in your mouth, scrunching up your nose. "Enough, Matt. Or you'll get sick again." You warn as he places you to sit on the bathroom counter.
"Then it'll be a cute never-ending cycle of us getting really sick and kissing each other." He said it like he was fond of the idea, looking at you then himself at the mirror, going back to brushing his teeth.
"Not a good thing." You point out, turning your back to stare at your reflection. You looked bedridden, your hair a messy bunch and your skin sickly flushed. "You look gorgeous though, so that's a plus." He rinses out his mouth, bending down to the height of the sink as you take the opportunity to run your hands through his knotted hair, fixing it for him.
He stands back up again, turning to look at the shower before back at you. You raise a tired eyebrow. "You think I should try for a shower? I feel disgusting and I think I've recovered enough to take one." He looks for your opinion on his question and you offer him a lazy shrug. "You're an able adult with a mind of your own."
"Yeah, but, I need to know what you think." He stands in between your legs, resting his hands on both your thighs. "Whenever I do something without your approval, I always regret it." You can't help it, you kiss him again. "Take a shower." You pull away and he grins. "But make sure you dry your hair really well."
"I know, I know." He winks, taking off his shirt as you drop to your feet. The sudden weight against the floor is a lot for your feeble sick body, you use the counter to lean on for help, before your knees buckle and have you fall. "Careful!" Matt urges, his eyes widening and a quick hand holding you still by the waist. You offer a smile. "I'm okay."
You turn the sink on, splattering your face with cold water. The temperature difference being so ultimate, it has you squeeze your eyes shut and take it all in for a moment. Washing your face, you hear the shower faucet turn on and Matt enters it from beside you.
"Make sure the water is hot on your skin!" You yell over the clattering water from the shower, making sure he heard you. You were always bossing Matt around like a mother, being an older sister definitely taking a load onto your personality. You dry your face, going in to brush your teeth now, hearing Matt turn the faucet as steam begins to form around him.
"Not too hot, Matt."
"I'm not into the whole idea of accidental suicide, so don't worry about that." He says over the water.
"You can't die from that." You correct, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"God, even when you're sick."
You chuckle, giving Matt an opportunity to close his eyes under that hot water and let your laugh melt through his ears.
"I'm gonna take a piss." You announce, rinsing your mouth out and peeling your pants down to your thighs as you sit on the toilet.
"You better not fucking flush." He ordered, making sure you heard the warning in his voice. 
You wiped, getting back up and flushing, darting out of the bathroom. You laugh at the sound of Matt screaming your name due to the sudden temperature change of water until sudden dizziness takes over your sight and mind. For a full second, your vision blurry so bad you genuinely couldn't see anything as your head spins in circles like a basketball.
"Fuck." You gasp, dropping yourself onto the unmade bed you and Matt slept in, trying to get your mind back together.
-
Not even a whole 10 minutes pass and Matt was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as he searched for you, seeing you dead asleep on his bed. Just then realization dawns upon him that today he'll need to look after you, the same you had. Any feeling of playful irritation left him and he was now changing into his clothes, his blue eyes on you as he tried to figure out how you took care of him so he could repeat that action.
Medicine.. Soup. Soup. He wondered if there was any left. Finishing putting his clothes on, he shuts the door quietly behind him, not wanting to wake you up. The environment around him definitely made it obvious that Chris and Nick were awake, seeing them seated in the kitchen.
"Matt!" Chris happily calls, seeing him much better than yesterday. He smiles, taking a seat at the table as he watches Nick cook up breakfast.  "Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks, putting sausage on a plate. "Yeah, all thanks to her," Matt points to the direction of his room where you're sleeping. "But at what cost." He sighed, feeling the guilt of getting you sick.
"What? She got sick too?" Chris wonders and Nick frowns. "Aw fuck."
"Yeah. She worked so hard yesterday, too. I feel so bad." Matt sighs, grabbing onto the fork Nick handed him and taking a quick bite from the breakfast. It wasn't your cooking, the flavor dull in his mouth as he chewed it down. The sound of murmured worries erupt from his brothers. "Whatever, is there any of the soup she made left?"
Chris almost jumps at the mention of the soup. "Dude, did you try it? It was so fucking good."
"Yeah. She made it for me. Is there any of it left?" Matt repeats himself, Nick shakes his head. "Nah, fucking Chris over here finished it all." Matt turns to glare at his brother.
"What?"
"You don't even like soup."
"Your girlfriend's soup doesn't count though, you've seen the way she cooks."
He was right, Matt couldn't argue with that.
-
Almost the entire day had passed and you had practically nothing in your stomach. Matt had tried anything, but your feverish appetite kept you from swallowing anything down. You claimed the food was either under seasoned, not cooked well enough, too cold, and more. Matt had gone out with Nick to the store to buy you pre-cooked meals, but the thing with you, you can smell if something isn't homemade from a mile away.
He holds the spoon of rice to your mouth, but you twist your head the other way, refusing to eat it. "Please, baby, come on." He begs, "You need to eat, you have to have food in your system so you could take the medicine."
You huff, shuffling under his blankets, looking for something. "I'll just take the medicine now."
He clicks his tongue, signifying no. "Nope, you will eat this whether you like it or not." He holds your hands down to shove the spoon in your mouth, but your head dodges it immediately, turning the other way. He groans your name, you stick your tongue out.
"I'm not eating that shit."
"Yes, you are." He grabs ahold of your jaw, locking it in place as his separate hand shoves the rice in your mouth. "Chew." He holds your jaw tight, closing it for you, knowing you were gonna spit it out. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him as you chew.
His grip on you loosens and drops his hand when he's certain you won't spit it out. Wrong move. You spit the rice out immediately onto the plate. He yells your name before accepting his defeat. "You have to eat, or else you'll throw up, stupid." He grumbled after a little while.
"Nah, I won't."
-
Was being completely and utterly stupid a part of sick symptoms?
You were snuggled up onto Matt's side, watching a movie on his laptop, sneezing and coughing in every direction but his, determined not to get him sick again. Even if that meant you're getting his entire room contaminated. His hand was met with your bare skin that your big shirt failed to cover, his palm sneaking into your shirt and rubbing our hot skin up and down for some sort of comfort.
Now, what made you stupid, was that you still took the medicine. And halfway through the movie, your stomach starts churning. Your eyes widen at the sudden clench of your stomach and you jump up, immediately heading for the bathroom as Matt's hand disappears from your side. Bending down to the toilet, Matt jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you immediately start gagging into the toilet.
You throw up an empty stomach, which hurts more. Matt worriedly holds your hair back as another hand rubs your back, understand ing quickly what was happening. You gag, everything you consumed the other day clears its way out of your body. Matt winces behind you, determined to keep your hair out of the way as he watches the pained look on your face.
The feeling chimes down, and you stand back up, dizzier than you were before, with Matt still using his hands for a make-shift ponytail before dropping it down. You feel yourself almost fall, grabbing onto his forearms for support, taking a few steps toward the sink.
Rinsing your mouth, Matt speaks, "Is it too soon to say I told you so?"
You decide to wash your face, too. "Shut up, bitch." He chuckled nervously from behind you. You felt disgusting and exhausted. "I need a shower." You mutter, rubbing your eyes as sick tiredness gets to you again.
"Not today!" He declares, motioning you back into the bedroom. "I feel so sweaty and gross." You mumbled, leaning on him, not really wanting to use any effort for yourself after that god awful vomit experience. He notices, preferring to pick you up than have you walk on your own.
"I could get you a new set of clothes?" He suggests instead, laying you back onto his bed. "Mmm." You hum in approval, laying fully on your back, too tired to even speak anymore. You felt worse than you did in the morning.
He grabs some folded clothes, all of which belonged to him as he looks back at you. Your eyes were closed, your breathing out of order as you tried to steady it again. You feel both of Matt's thumbs hook around each side of your waistband before slowly shoving them down, his cold fingertips brushing against your burning hot body. Taking the pants off you, he takes one of your legs and puts it in the leg hole of sweatpants that belonged to him, repeating the action on the other leg before pulling it past your thighs and to your hips. He ties the strings around your waist so it wouldn't fall off you.
"Thank you, Matt." You slur, barely able to open your eyes again as your mind begins going blank. "Anything for you, love." He softly takes your shirt off of your head as you lift your arms up lazily for some sort of help. Matt grins at your lazy action, putting a graphic t-shirt over your head. You seemed completely out of it, so he puts your arms through the holes for you, making sure your stomach is fully covered. "Sleepy, huh?" He says more to himself than you.
A small part of your mind hadn't completely fallen asleep, your ears picking up on it but not registering what he'd said, humming in response to make it seem like you were still awake. Matt fixes your position on the bed. It was only 8:00 PM at night, and he still needed to film a car video in a few hours. He knew exactly what he would bring up.
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wren-kitchens · 3 days
Text
so shiver, but shiver with a friend
1034 words
the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 
this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world
this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic
btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!
the boat is creaking.
that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.
but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.
anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.
there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?
overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-
to find..
well, she's not sure what she's found.
"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.
except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.
"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.
"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."
gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"
"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"
"uh huh."
"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"
"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"
something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."
gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"
a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.
"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"
scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.
before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.
"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.
gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.
scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
Note
Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.
hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖
A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader
[6:00]
Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.
Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.
“Where you... going...”
Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.
Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.
“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.
“Stay... please...”
“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”
“You feel better than blåhaj...”
“...”
It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.
Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.
Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.
Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...
The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.
[12:00]
“Can we eat fries for lunch?”
you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.
“No”
“WHYYYY!”
“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.
okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.
just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.
“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.
What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.
“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.
“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.
“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.
Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.
[18:00]
You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.
“Mushroom”
“Mango”
“Oreo”
“Orange”
“Egg”
“g...”
“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”
“Fucking hell...”
Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.
[23:00]
“Time to sleep.”
“but I want to watch this movie.”
“You can watch it tomorrow.”
“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”
“...Fine.”
(00:00)
Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.
He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.
He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.
He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.
“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.
a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u
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htchnr · 23 hours
Text
♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi
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moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
Hiiii!! I saw that you were asking for camp counselor! James and I got an idea, what if reader and him weren’t yet together but they were both pinning on one another and he was just telling the kids how adorable the reader is and the kids thought that they would be so good together and were so happy when they finally got together!!!
Thanks for requesting sweetheart!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words
You spot James before he does you, holding court among a circle of campers enjoying their free time after lunch. The sun beats down on the unshaded bit of grass in front of his cabin, but James doesn’t seem to mind. He’s all loose and smiley, skin glowing in the afternoon light and hair that hasn’t been cut since May curling just above the rims of his glasses, meanwhile you can already feel the tickle of sweat forming on your skin. 
He looks up as you approach, grin widening the second before his face smooths into seriousness. “Careful, guys, we’ve got a wily one coming to join us,” he tells the kids. “Keep your cards close.” 
You roll your eyes, sitting down with your legs crossed beneath you between a couple of girls from your cabin. “What are you playing?” You ask them, and yet James answers anyway. 
“Blackjack.” You look up at him, and he smiles. Almost bashfully, like he’s unable to help himself. “Crazy eights,” he concedes, setting down his hand to deal you in. “Here, we’re just starting.” 
“James,” one of his boys whines, “we’re halfway through.”
“What harm does it do you, Cal?” he asks. “You’re set to win anyway.” 
“It’s okay,” you promise, “James is allowed to set me up for failure if he likes.” 
James pretends to be appalled, making the kids laugh, but he can’t keep it up for long before he’s smiling back at you. You like doing this with him, allying together. It feels like you’re in on some sort of secret, though you’re not sure what that might be. 
“It’s probably because he fancies her,” one of the other boys whispers to Cal in a not-so-low voice. 
You do your best to keep your eyes on your cards and your feelings off your face, but you feel a heat that has nothing to do with the sun creeping up the back of your neck. 
“Shush!” One of your campers, Mary, elbows the other boy sharply. “You’re so loud.” 
You don’t dare sneak a glance up at James, but when one of the girls goes, “Wait, what?” and the circle erupts in giggles, you can’t help it. He’s grinning at you, that us-against-the-world look again, like kids, right? You hope your answering smile looks half as relaxed. 
“You guys are worse gossips than my mum, you know that?” The kids’ laughter worsens as he feigns an exasperation that’s easy to see through, setting his hands on his hips. You pointedly do not notice how nicely the pose displays his biceps and forearms. “This is why I don’t tell you any real secrets.”
The boys from James’ cabin look genuinely upset. You feel a bit bad for them even as relief washes over you, tinged with a bit of disappointment.
“It wasn’t a secret?” the boy who’d spoken asks. 
James gives him a sideways look. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but look at her.” Blood rushes to your face as the kids gasp and ooh conspiratorially at each other almost too loud for you to hear him saying, “I’m only human.” 
You feel no better than the kids when the first response that rushes to your lips is shut up, but you choose to take your own advice, rolling your eyes like you think he’s joking despite the light and undeniable sincerity in James’ tone. Butterflies crowd your stomach.
“Y/n, are you gonna be his girlfriend?” one of the girls from your cabin asks, grinning ear to ear. 
“Um, it’s not quite so simple—” 
“Terrible!” James exclaims, looking around the circle with a scandalized expression. “You’re all terrible. I haven’t even asked her anything! You’re going to kill your counselor, and what then? You think the next one will let you play in her hammock?” 
“We’re not allowed to do that anymore,” another of your girls says sulkily. 
James looks to you, and you shrug, sheepish. “I got caught. They said it wasn’t safe.” 
“Whatever,” James blazes onward, “the point is, who will I have to talk to if you kill her? Be considerate, guys. Plan ahead.” 
“James,” you plead, very nearly on the brink of actual death, you’re sure. 
“And that,” he says promptly, stacking three fives and holding up his hands empty, “is how you win at crazy eights.” 
The kids erupt in shouts, pointing fingers and throwing down their cards, and James sends you a wink. 
You think you need to take a dunk in the lake. 
343 notes · View notes
adriennebarnes · 2 days
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A Cinderella Story
Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.
Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events
A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.
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Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)
“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.
“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.
“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.
After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.
“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.
“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.
“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.
“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.
“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.
“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.
“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.
“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.
"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.
"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.
“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.
“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.
"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.
"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.
“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.
"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.
"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.
"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.
"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.
"Whatever." Y/N replied.
Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.
“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.
“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.
FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.
“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.
“No your not.” Lando commented.
“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.
“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.
“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.
“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.
“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.
“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.
After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.
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Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.
“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.
“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.
“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.
“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.
“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.
“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.
“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”
“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.
“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).
“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,
“Yep.” Y/N said.
The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.
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The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.
“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.
“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,
“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.
“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.
“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.
“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.
"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.
"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.
“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.
“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”
“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.
“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.
“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.
“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.
“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.
“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.
“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.
“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.
“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.
“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.
“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,
FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.
“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.
“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.
“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.
“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.
“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.
“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.
“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.
“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.
“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.
“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.
After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.
“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.
“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.
“You pick.” Y/N said.
“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.
They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.
When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.
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Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.
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(Choose whichever dress you like better)
Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.
“America, you look great.” Oscar said.
“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.
“He did.” Oscar said.
“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.
“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.
“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.
“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.
“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,
“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.
“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N
“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.
“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.
“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”
“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.
“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.
They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.
“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.
“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.
“Charles.” Y/N said.
“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.
“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.
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“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.
Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.
“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,
The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.
“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.
Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.
"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."
Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.
The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.
"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.
"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."
"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.
"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.
"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.
The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.
"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.
"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.
"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.
"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.
"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.
"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.
"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.
"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.
It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.
"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.
"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.
"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.
"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.
"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.
"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.
It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.
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It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.
"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.
"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.
"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.
"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.
"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.
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Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.
"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.
"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.
"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.
"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.
"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"
"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.
"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."
"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.
"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.
"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.
"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.
"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."
"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.
"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.
"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.
The End
Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay
210 notes · View notes
ctrlhope · 3 days
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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)
synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series
p.jimin x f.reader
⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k
⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst
⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3
⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
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The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.
While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!
But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.
You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.
Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.
In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.
It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.
Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!
Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!
The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.
Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.
A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?
“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.
It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.
Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.
What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.
You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.
You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.
You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?
You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.
Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.
You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?
Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.
Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.
If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.
It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.
But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.
Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~
Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–
Bang.
What the fuck was that?
Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.
A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.
You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…
Human.
Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.
The room, it freezes over.
Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.
If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.
That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.
But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.
The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–
At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.
No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.
The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.
You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.
Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.
He sees you before you see him.
“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.
Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.
Just as petrified as you.
Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.
Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.
He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.
The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.
He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.
Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.
He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.
What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–
Holy shit he must be frozen solid.
It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.
His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.
Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.
The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.
“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.
“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”
You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.
It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.
He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.
He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.
Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.
You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.
You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.
Don’t notice the recognition on his face.
You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.
You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.
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The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.
Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.
You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.
Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.
You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.
“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.
You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?
Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.
“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.
“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.
“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.
“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”
It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.
“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”
You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.
“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”
You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.
“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”
“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”
“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.
“I’m sorry…”
He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”
The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.
“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.
“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”
He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.
“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.
“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”
You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.
“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”
He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.
“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”
“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?
You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.
His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.
Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.
“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”
“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.
“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”
He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.
“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”
“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.
“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”
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Mate. Mate. Mate.
Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.
All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.
He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.
As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.
Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.
To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.
Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.
You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.
You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.
Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.
One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.
But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.
So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.
A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.
“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.
It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.
He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.
Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.
Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.
You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.
“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.
You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.
But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.
“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.
His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.
“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.
“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”
Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.
A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”
He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.
“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.
“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.
Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.
How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.
You frown.
“Min, I’m so sorry…”
He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.
“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.
“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?
“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?
“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.
Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.
Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.
Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.
“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”
You shake your head, “what?”
“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.
You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.
“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”
You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.
“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”
His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?
The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.
Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.
You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.
A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.
“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”
You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”
A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.
He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.
Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.
He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.
“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.
“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”
A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.
You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.
He can.
“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.
You have to buy those glasses.
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Being a spider is just too difficult!
At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.
It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”
Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.
Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.
That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.
His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.
His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.
In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.
At least, that’s what he tells you.
The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.
Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.
It always works. Always will.
Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.
No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.
r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.
You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–
You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.
Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.
But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.
Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.
You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.
Or maybe you’re over thinking things.
Yeah. It’s probably that.
“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.
His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.
Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.
He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.
“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.
He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.
The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.
You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.
“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”
“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”
His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.
You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.
“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.
Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.
Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.
The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.
Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.
The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.
Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.
Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.
And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.
A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.
“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.
Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.
It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.
A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.
A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.
To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.
“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.
He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.
He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.
You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.
Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.
He’ll win it soon. August.
“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.
Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!
“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”
“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”
His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.
Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.
That’s what he promises to himself.
“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.
Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.
Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.
His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.
You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.
Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.
You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.
“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.
Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.
You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.
Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.
Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.
“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!
You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.
But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.
If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.
“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.
Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.
Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”
“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.
His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.
Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.
“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.
Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.
“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.
“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.
You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”
His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.
He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.
It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.
Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.
Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.
It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.
“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”
His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.
How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.
Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.
He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.
Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.
But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.
Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.
Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.
Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.
Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.
So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.
You think you might hate them.
You sigh.
No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.
You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.
“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”
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August 11th.
A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.
Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.
Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.
But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.
“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.
“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”
“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.
You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.
Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.
You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.
Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.
August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.
A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.
Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.
“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.
Gorgeous, gorgeous you.
Mate.
“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.
No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.
Wait, does he have your love yet?
Now he isn’t sure.
All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.
More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.
The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?
Wait, spider.
Spider.
His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.
He hasn’t even presented his web yet.
He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.
“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.
That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.
He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.
The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.
He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.
So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.
He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.
He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.
Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.
“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.
He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.
“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.
Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.
He hadn’t even noticed it.
He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.
Leave. Leave. Leave.
The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.
Leave. He needs to leave.
He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.
A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?
No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?
He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.
The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.
A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?
You are.
“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?
And so you do.
He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.
To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–
Shit.
He needs to leave.
Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.
His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.
He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.
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The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.
You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.
It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.
He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.
You’re sick of it.
Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.
So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.
Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.
You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.
Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.
Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.
He doesn’t. He never would.
His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.
You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.
His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.
Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.
Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.
You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.
Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.
Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.
You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.
“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.
“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”
Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.
You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.
“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”
“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”
“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.
He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”
Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”
“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.
It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.
You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.
“Okay.”
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He holds your hand as you walk.
Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.
You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.
The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.
Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.
He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.
It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.
Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.
You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.
Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.
As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.
You almost want to curl up in it yourself.
Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.
You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.
“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”
He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.
He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.
Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.
He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–
No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.
“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”
His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.
You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.
You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?
Oh.
It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.
You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?
Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.
You’re an idiot.
“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.
His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.
“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.
The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.
You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.
Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.
Only him.
Only Jimin.
He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.
His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.
He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.
His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.
His spider is winning.
“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.
“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.
His spider has won.
Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.
His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.
You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.
His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.
Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.
He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.
Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.
Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.
He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.
You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.
His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.
“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.
“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”
He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.
Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?
He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!
His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.
A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?
“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.
His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.
“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.
Tie you up. Breed full.
Breed you.
His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.
His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.
See exactly how you struggle against the strings.
Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.
You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.
“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.
Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.
He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?
“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”
You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.
“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.
Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.
He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.
You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.
Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.
“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.
“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.
You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”
The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.
You’ve both done enough waiting.
It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.
The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.
“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.
“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.
Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.
Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.
“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.
He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.
“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”
He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.
“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”
You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.
“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.
His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.
Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.
He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.
You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.
All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.
Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.
“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.
Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.
He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.
“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”
“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.
Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.
“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.
A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.
“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”
His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.
He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.
“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”
He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.
No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.
“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.
“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.
His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.
Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.
He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.
Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.
He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.
The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.
“I love you.”
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“Y/n! Hurry up!”
The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.
“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.
“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”
He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.
You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.
He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.
He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.
All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.
You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.
It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.
Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.
“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.
You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”
He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.
You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.
His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.
The human way is never easy for him.
“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.
“Hybrid’s do it different?”
“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.
“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.
“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”
He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”
Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.
The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.
“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.
The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.
“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.
You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.
The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.
“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”
“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”
“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”
You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.
Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.
“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.
You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.
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eddiesxangel · 2 days
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Downhearted | E.M
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Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.
2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)
Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.
Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.
To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.
This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.
Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.
You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.
You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.
As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.
You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.
He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.
Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.
He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.
“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.
Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.
His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.
He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.
“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”
“I can’t,” your voice shakes.
“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.
He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.
While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.
You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.
Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.
Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.
“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”
Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.
“N-no”
“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.
You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.
Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.
Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.
He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.
You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.
You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.
You just wanted to feel something.
Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.
I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.
Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.
Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.
As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.
“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”
You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.
Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.
He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.
He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.
He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.
He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.
When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.
You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.
He steps back at the sudden touch.
“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.
As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.
“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.
“Please Eddie”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.
He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.
“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.
Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.
You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.
Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.
“That okay, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmmm”
He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.
His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.
“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.
“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”
“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.
“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”
Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.
“Sorry”
“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.
“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.
Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.
Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.
“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“More,” you pant.
You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.
“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.
“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.
“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.
It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.
Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.
As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.
Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.
The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.
Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.
“Eddie, please”
“Let go, baby”
The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.
A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.
Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.
His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.
“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.
“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”
“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."
You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.
“I love you too.”
Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski
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mysticheathenn · 1 day
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Reassuring Messages From The Universe
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about messages reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. I felt called to do this reading, hopefully, this reading gives you some sort of solace, peace, and hope.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: The Chariot, 6 of Swords (Clarified by 2 of Swords, reversed), 4 of Pentacles (Clarified by 4 of Pentacles), The High Priestess, King of Wands.
Some of you may be dealing with depression, anxiety, or in general, your mental space has not been in the greatest of shape lately. Something is going to give you your spark back to help you trust and lead you on your way towards victory. You've been in your shell long enough holding onto the reality around you. For some of you, this is by choice but for the majority of you, this is because of your circumstances. You could be dealing with financial struggles or whatnot, either way, I see you finally walking down the path of where you want to go with no fear as to what will or can happen because you are trusting more in the universe (God, Allah, etc) that everything will work out. You're walking away from what could be a job, relationship, friends/family, or even just no longer letting your mental health and mindset get the best of you anymore and finally deciding enough is enough. If not you the universe will show you that enough is enough, this doesn't feel like a thrust into your new direction like a tower moment but more so of a gentle hand. Similar to how an animal is scared or nervous in their new home and you are gently letting them feel the lay of the land and giving them pets here and there of encouragement that everything is fine and that they are safe. This next chapter feels like safety, reassurance, and guidance from the divine. You may still be scared and may sometimes even revert back to what you know best but it will be more so of a quick mindset switch before you continue on this new path. I'm hearing where you are is no longer serving. Trust that you are being led to victory and not another lesson, financial bankrupt, etc. Lead with passion, lead by your passions, and live your life passionately. Be Bold and stop shrinking.
Extra Messages: Tea Trea Oracle: Strong emotion passionate love or hate. November. A period of ill health/Depression. Do not lower your standards. The key to the outcome of your problems. Involvement with the law (contracts or winning a legal battle). Obstacles you will overcome. Happiness.
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Pile ll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Wands, Strength (reverse), 10 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
Weirdly "Hit Me Baby One More Time" came to mind but not in the sense of what the song is about but more so that you are constantly being knocked down by life's challenges and most of you aren't sure if you can get up again. "Knock me down 9 times but I get up 10" - Cardi B (Get Up 10). Your strength is weary but something in you still has that hope and faith that something better is coming and you are right. With the 9 of pentacles and 10 of cups card something better is coming. Because everyone's desires and goals are different whatever this is that you have been dreaming, manifesting, praying, or just working your ass off for is finally coming into fruition. You just need to not give up before the finish line, you're almost there. "I'm almost there" - Tianna, Princess and the Frog movie. Your story might be similar to Tiana's or you may have a deep admiration for her for how she worked hard and finally got her dream of owning a restaurant. Tiana is you, you are Tiana in this reading. She went through some tough times and even thought about giving up a time or two but something in her just like yourself is holding on to that thread of hope that everything will pay off, you just need a sign. This is that sign. Keep hanging on, hold on to your guides/Universe/Ancestors/etc hand during this process when you feel you need that extra push to keep going. I am hearing some of you a fast may help give you more clarity or bring this to fruition faster. Some of you may have been thinking about fasting. Fasting can be anything. It can be not eating from 8am to 8pm, not eating breakfast and lunch, sustaining from social media or sex, etc etc. Whatever it is fast may give you the clarity and strength you need. Fasting is only for some of you
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: October. January. Good Fortune. Protected from negative forces beyond your control. A sincere wish will be granted. Period of frustration, lessons to be learned. The most difficult part is over. Major challenges to overcome. Something important, such as a new job or raise.
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Pile lll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, 7 of Swords (reversed), The Hermit, 4 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
There are two different messages for this pile. For some of you, you are dealing with someone in your life that is causing you a great deal of emotional and mental turmoil. You may even daily try to pray and wish this person away because you don't have the strength to do it yourself, while others of you are in hermit mode because you are tired of receiving people in your life that does nothing but make you hate people, wish you never met them, or just not want to connect with others in general. Either way, the main gist of it all is people are stressing you out and have not been treating you well forcing you to rethink everything in life. Some of you might even question your existence as if you are here to be a punching bag for those who have not healed their inner wounds. For those still dealing with toxic people I am seeing you going into a period of isolation. Your prayers, manifestions, cord cutting rituals are being answered. I'm hearing be careful what you wish for. So for some of you, this isolation is exactly what the doctor ordered while some of you will like it in the beginning but slowly realize exactly what this period of isolation may mean. You may be the type that doesn't do well alone or not always surrounded by people and this isolation it will teach you not only how to see your self-worth and what truly matters in your life (what you want and not allow people to treat you). Others who are in a period of isolation already may have been working on something if not you will receive an idea something that will bring you the emotional and financial fulfillment that you have been desiring for a while. Either way, at the end of both periods of isolation blessings, emotional, and financial blessings are to be found. Take this period of self-reflection as a blessing and utilize it to the best of your abilities to explore yourself. I get a sense that you don't know yourself pile lll. Some of you may have an idea of who you are, what you stand for, and your morals/integrity.....but do you really know yourself..the real you and not the one you put on as a facade. Do not be afraid of what is to come. Do not be afraid of peace and quiet. Embrace the silence. Embrace the change and shift in the current.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Honor and respect will come to you. Changes in your life. Sorrow over a loss. Financial Pinch. Happiness. Peace and Harmony. Deep personal strength and peace that assures success (period of isolation).
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Pile lV:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Cups, Awakening, The Hermit, Queen of Wands (reversed), King of Wands
Similar to pile lll, but different. Instead of this being about others causing yourself turmoil this is mostly about you not feeling confident in yourself or your abilities to do anything right especially regarding goals, talents, etc. For some of you, this idea was implanted by someone you once looked up to but for most of you, this has more to do with either perfectionism or just comparing yourself to someone else. You aren't realizing that the reason the grass is greener on the other side is because that person too had to put in the work to make it in such a state. They didn't just wake up with green grass but they nurtured it, fed it nutrients, and kept unwanted and negative pests or harmful animals away from it. You need to do the same for yourself as well. You are the grass that needs to be nurtured, loved, and spoken to with such kindness. Anything else that does not give you the feeling of growth, happiness, and peace has no room in your life pile lV. As mentioned before, in pile lll you may either be in isolation or in need of isolation to help clear your mind. Either way in this isolation, you will be finding yourself again. Some of you may even look up things on Tumblr, Pinterest, etc on how to be "That girl/boy/person", Cottage Core, or whatever aesthetic or vibe that you have been wanting to do either way you want to become more tapped into who you are without caring what others may think. You are stepping into your power and becoming happy with life and possibly even trying to romanticize your life more. Some of you may even want to start a YouTube channel to help romanticize your life with edits and so forth. Weirdly I am feeling the vibe of slow-living content (only a few of you.) If not slow living waking up at 5 or 6am in the morning type of routine. Either way, this message is to reassure you that you are and will be coming back to yourself. It may take some time, trial, and error but when you listen to only yourself and not others, you will flourish beyond belief. Take this time to document your journey so you can see your growth as to when you become the person you are meant to be. Being yourself is the key to your financial abundance. That's all I hear. I don't know what they may mean for you either way being and finding yourself is the key. This could be like I mentioned YouTube, this could be giving into your desires to knit or crochet weird things or even making figurines and selling them on Etsy...whatever the thing is, being authentic is the key.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Someone or something is trying to come between you and something you want. Recognition, Reward for merit. Chain of events that will affect your life. Career. March. News of a birth or new business opportunity. Happiness. Money will be coming to you. A goal-oriented person.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
Next Reading: Patreon Related
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russellsppttemplates · 16 hours
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https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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mountttmase · 21 hours
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Don’t Get Caught
Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 3k
Warnings - smut
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‘So it’s just a shed?’
‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’
‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.
‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’
You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.
‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.
‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’
‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.
‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.
‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’
‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’
‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.
‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’
‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.
Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.
Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.
‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’
‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’
‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’
‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.
‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’
‘Why don’t you turn it off?’
‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.
‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.
‘How?’
‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.
‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’
‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’
‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.
‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’
He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.
‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.
‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.
‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.
‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride
Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.
‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’
You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.
‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.
As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.
He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.
‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’
‘I’m a good girl for you’
‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’
‘Masey’
‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’
‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.
‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.
‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.
‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’
‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.
‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’
You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.
‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’
‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’
‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.
‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.
‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’
‘Masey, I’m so close’
‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’
‘Mase’
‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.
‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.
‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.
It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.
‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.
‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’
‘Really? You don’t mind?’
‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.
‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’
‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.
‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’
‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’
‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.
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