#had be giggling every time he came on screen

[formulawolff]

viii. shining bright in suzuka - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.0k

warnings: this chapter is a lot milder, so my apologies. cursing, banter, teasing, references to sex, toto being flustered as fuck, discussion of hickeys, references to oral (f! receiving), yadayadayada

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“jet lagged, are we?” 

an elbow nudges shoulder, prodding you awake, “wakey, wakeyyyyy.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

peering from under your hood, you make out alex standing over you, a smirk painting his lips, “what time is it?”

“around 9 i think,” pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checks the time, “well, more like 9:30. what time did you fly in last night?”

“too late,” you grumble, rubbing your heavy lids, “way too late.”

“how long was your flight? because you look absolutely miserable,” although alex’s question is innocent, you hold your tongue. 

while you didn’t necessarily want to lie, you almost had to.

“about twenty hours.”

“yikes,” alex shakes his head, his focus directed on his phone, “sucks to suck.”

“where did you fly out from? monaco? did lily come with you?”

“maybeeee,” his voice crescendos, his smiling growing, “but yeah, she came with. she’s sleeping right now though. or getting ready. i’m not sure. but she’ll be here shortly.”

“yayyyy!” kicking your feet, you fish your phone out of your hoodie pocket, “she’s my favorite golfer, you know that?”

“she can’t be your favorite,” he shakes his head, thumbs fiddling with the screen, “she’s my favorite golfer so that means you have to pick someone else. i’m her number one fan, actually.” 

“okay fine,” you huff, “i’ll be her second number one fan.”

alex’s girlfriend, better known as muni “lily” he, was a professional golfer. she was undeniably gorgeous, with luscious, thick hair, a slim build, and beautiful, bright eyes. they reminded you of a sunlight shining through a forest, a rich,earthy hue. in addition to her stunning features, she was a kind, bubbly individual, quickly bonding with you over your shared status as professional athletes. she was hilarious as well, often getting you to crack a smile in the paddock after a rough lap or after being grilled in a press conference. 

her relationship with alex began after she watched a season of drive to survive on netflix. from there, the two connected over instagram, sharing conversations over their shared interests. that aspect always made you giggle, as she was the ultimate fangirl. her support for alex was adorable, and he was so in love with her. 

that was something you admired about alex. his fierce love for lily and his ability to be able to share it with the world, the two posting one another often across their social medias. 

if only you could tell the world about toto. 

fuck, if only you could tell your parents you had met someone. 

however, your relationship status with the team principal was complicated. 

extremely complicated. 

the time you spent with him in brackley was pure and utter bliss. since you had time to waste, you mostly spent it in his bed, cuddling one another, relishing one another’s presence. he was able to explain some more about his divorce with susie some, relieving your lingering anxiety over the matter.

when the two of you weren’t talking, cuddling, or sleeping, you found your bodies intertwined, his name flowing from your lips. notes of purple, blue, and pink painted your shoulders, breasts, collarbone, and thighs. fuck, there was probably even on one of your ass cheeks. you were so sore, your walls stretched, inner thighs aching. 

hopefully it wouldn’t affect your ability to race. 

you prayed to god it wouldn’t. 

there was one thing you couldn’t get over, even if it was a little ridiculous. 

how was he able to maintain that pace in bed? it was honestly impressive how high his libido was. and his stamina? oh fuck. you were the one who had to tap out nearly every time. yet, he was so gentle with you afterwards, placing soft kisses on every inch of your skin, assuring you that he would massage any sore muscles, offering to make you food if you were hungry.  

one night, he even sang you to sleep. it was a german tune, so you didn’t quite understand the words. but the gesture was enough to have you melting in his arms, falling asleep only minutes after he started. every morning, you’d wake up to his head between your thighs, toto utterly devouring you until he was satisfied. 

you couldn’t express how grateful you were to finally have some time alone with him, where you didn’t have to worry about missing flights or meetings. where you could kiss him as many times as you wanted. where you could just lay with him, your head on his chest as he replied to emails. he didn’t answer a single work-related call in that time, all of his attention focused on you.

as you sat with alex, you couldn’t help but wonder.

what was the label you could place on your relationship with the team principal?

meanwhile, toto wolff stood in the mercedes paddock, mingling with george and lewis. a team member approaches toto, tablet in hand. 

“mr. wolff, we’ve comprised a report of the necessary adjustments needed for this weekend’s race.”

“beautiful,” lewis hamilton finds himself arching a brow as he notices the grin plastered across his team principal’s face, “here, let’s go over here, and you can discuss it with me further. excuse me, you two. we’ll talk more later.”

as the team principal strolls away, lewis turns to his fellow driver. the other brit appears just as shocked, eyes wide, lips parted. 

“what the fuck happened over our break?”

“he’s been so smiley today,” lewis folds his arms across his chest, “do you think he got laid?”

“toto?” george tuts, “surely not. he doesn’t have the time to get laid. he’s always complaining about this meeting, some press conference, a mercedes showcasing. his schedule is packed so tightly, you have to make an appointment to speak with him for more than five minutes.”

“come on, mate,” lewis nods over the team principal, noticing the prominent mark on his neck, just barely peeking out over his collar, “george. he has a hickey. he has a fucking hickey.”

“surely no– oh my god,” george’s arms drop to his sides as he glances over, also taking note of the mark, “holy shit. he did get laid.”

“but who?” lewis presses, “who in their right mind would fuck that man? a recent divorcee? i pray for whoever the poor girl was.”

“the man’s a billionaire,” george waves a hand, “i’m sure there are models practically throwing themselves at him in monaco. perhaps he met a girl at a club or something. i wouldn’t think too much of it. although, it would probably be best if you mentioned the hickey. the press would be all over that.”

“what the fuck am i supposed to say?” lewis hisses, “should it be something like, ‘oh mate, i think you need to take a look at your neck. you have something there.’ or what?”

“wait,” george’s brows furrow, “he was in brackley. he responded to one of my texts saying he was working from the headquarters over break–”

“he fucked someone from mercedes?” lewis’ eyes widen, a hand flying to his mouth, “oh fuck. who could it possibly be?”

“well first things first,” george clears his throat, “you need to mention the hickey. then we need to focus on the practice laps. if we do well and he’s in a good mood, we’ll casually bring it up. we’ll say something like, ‘oh we’ve noticed you’ve been wearing that cheeky grin lately. is there something behind that? are you seeing someone, perhaps?’ we’ll be real smooth with it, so that he doesn’t suspect anything. if we perform poorly, i don’t think he would want to discuss it.”

“well no shit.”

“oh god,” george straightens his posture, “he’s coming back over here. you better say something!”

as the team principal grows near, the british drivers engage in conversation, discussing their performance from the last race. toto clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. 

“i hope i’m not interrupting anything between you two.”

“oh no,” lewis bears a quaint smile, “we were just talking about the fia’s decision regarding that williams driver.”

“the american girl?” toto inquires, maintaining his composure, “she really did a number on you, george.”

“just like someone did a number on your neck,” lewis chips in, teasing lightly, “what were you up to these past couple of days? up to no good?”

“what are you–” toto’s eyes narrow, yet the realization washes over him as he takes in the smug expressions across his drivers’ faces. 

the hickey was visible. the one on the left side of his neck.

“i-i don’t know what you’re rambling about.”

“mhmmm,” lewis puckers his lips, “tell me toto, did you get laid recently?”

inhaling a sharp breath, the team principal puts up his hands, in a vain attempt to cease their speculations. 

yet, he was well aware there was no stopping those two. 

the teasing was going to ensue the entire weekend. and they were going to be relentless, pressing each and every little button until he gave in. 

“what happens in my personal life is none of you–”

before he can finish, lewis puts up a hand, “toto we’ve gone on holiday with you. we’ve had weekends in monaco together. we spend nearly every waking minute together. whether it’s at brackley, in the paddock, or addressing the press, we’ve spent a lot of time together. now, we’re being merciful here. who is the lovely lady?”

“that is none of your–”

“fine,” george interjects, “we’ll drop it for now. but when this weekend is over, you better believe we’ll be on your ass about it. we’re going to find out who this woman is. one way or another.”

although, the british drivers did not have to look very far. 

you were simply a few paddocks down, filming a tik tok with lily. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“fuck yes!” 

“great job! great fucking job! we’ll see you in the paddock!”

adrenaline courses through your veins as you lay off the gas, practically gliding towards the paddock. stopping the car, you climb out, pumping your fists as the pit crew swarms forward, patting your back, cheers ringing all around.

amidst the crowd, james makes his way through, opening his arms for an embrace. 

you collapse into it, his hands rattling along your helmet, “way to redeem yourself, american girl!” 

“pole position for tomorrow isn’t too bad, huh?” 

“not at all!” james’ eyes are alight with joy, “that will shut everyone up, yeah?” 

“i think so,” the words are breathless, “fuck, that was intense.”

“you can sleep a little easier tonight,” james remarks, patting your helmet once more, “although, i would be on guard. those redbull boys are going to be on your ass.”

sliding your helmet off, your lungs take in the fresh air. your knees buckle momentarily, the limbs feeling a little like jell-o. graciously, you accept a water bottle from james, taking a swig. hairs cling to your forehead, the other ends sticking up in every direction. 

“fuck, i’m tired.”

“well, i don’t have anything for you,” james’ tone is laced with sympathy, “you’ve had a long few days. when you leave, just keep your head down, hood up. this is one of the only times i’ll let you avoid the press. if they antagonize you, just make some bullshit up. i can handle the rest.”

“are you sure you want me to do that? that may just create more headlines,” unzipping your suit halfway, you slip your arms out, grateful for the coolness of the spring suzuka climate. 

“i’m sure,” james rests a hand on your shoulder, “you deserve some rest. alex informed me you had a long flight. the jet lag can persist if you’re not used to it. you look exhausted.”

“i still haven’t adjusted to all of the traveling that comes with this sport,” you exhale, bringing your helmet under your arm, “thank you, james. you’re the best.”

“of course. it’s my job to be the best, you know,” he shoots you a wink, “now go! our little star needs her beauty rest!”

“little star. that’s a new one,” you roll your eyes playfully, “okay, okay. i’ll go.”

spinning on your heel, you turn to leave, strolling out of the paddock. making your way through the team headquarters, you wave to all of the members, grinning as they congratulate you, shouting a variety of inaudible or incoherent words of praise. within minutes, you’re able to locate your belongings, closing the door to the room. 

wincing, you tug the legs of the suit off. fuck, were more sore than usual. underneath the fabric, your muscles tingled, buzzing from the adrenaline. if you were hurting this bad now, god only knew how much more intense it was going to be in a few hours. 

slipping into a hoodie and some leggings, you pull the hood up, throwing your book bad on your shoulder. 

now, it would only be a short walk to your motorhome, where you could shower and sleep. 

thank fucking god. 

glancing at your phone, you briefly picked through your notifications. there was really nothing too serious. a few texts from your parents, congratulating you on the pole position. 

however, there was one message awaiting your response.

congratulations, my golden girl. can i swing by your place in a few? i just have to wrap up with my team and then i’ll be on my way. you should have time to shower, so do not rush. 

also, lewis and george will not stop pestering me about the hickey on my neck. they’ve been up my ass all fucking day. i’m only seconds away from reporting them to the fia and have them disqualified. LOL or however the fuck you say it. 

p.s. you’re going to get the biggest smooch. ever.

at his poor use of lol, you let out a laugh, your thumbs gliding across the screen, typing a response.

when you’re on your way, let me know so i can leave the door unlocked for you. maybe i can give you some concealer so you can cover it up tomorrow lmfaooo. my bad, my bad. see you soon, hottie. <3 

p.s. i can’t wait to get the biggest smooch ever. 

before you know it, you’re at the front door of your motorhome, sliding the key into the lock. turning it, you swing the door open, trudging inside. 

throwing your belongings on the counter, you groan as the pain seeps into every crevice of your body, desperate for some relief. hopefully a hot shower and toto’s hands would ease some of the ache. 

on the other side of the track, a team principal paces, oh so impatient. 

“are we all done here?”

“yes sir,” a team member responds coolly, “we’re finished.”

“okay good,” he nods. waving his hands, he dismisses his team and crew, “all right! see you all tomorrow. bright and early!”

as the members disperse, toto bites his lip, tapping his foot lightly against the carpet. 

why was everything taking so fucking long?

“why are you in such a rush?” lewis’ voice pulls him from his thoughts. thoughts about you, nonetheless, “have somewhere to be?”

“lewis,” toto’s voice is dangerously low, “quit it. stop that shit right now.”

“i’m just saying,” lewis shrugs, “it’s sort of odd you’re usually the last to leave, but now you’re chomping at the bit, ready to get out of here. is there someone waiting on you?”

actually, there was. 

the girl he was beginning to fall head over heels for was waiting for him. perched in her bed, more than likely. more than ready to be swathed in his loving arms. 

she had him wrapped around her little finger, there was no denying that.

especially when she had him pulling shit like this. 

peering around, the team principal ensures that there were no cameras or mics lingering about. netflix was in their early stages of shooting the 2024 season of drive to survive, so there were cameramen and production crew milling about the paddocks throughout the day.

thank god they didn’t catch the entire hickey debacle on camera.

that alone would have ended his career.

“perhaps i am seeing someone,” toto hisses pointing a finger at the british driver, “but that is none of your concern. i will see you tomorrow, lewis.”

“can you at least tell me who she is?” his bottom lip juts out, forming a pout, “come on, toto. you’ve been so open with me all of these years and this is where you draw the line?” 

“all you need to know is that she’s a professional athlete,” that was half the truth, at least. hopefully enough to keep lewis at bay for the time being. 

“an athlete?” lewis’ brows raise, “what sport?

“horseback riding.”

close enough. 

“hmmph,” lewis purses his lips, “well, if you want to tell me more, i’ll be all ears. i’ll see you tomorrow, toto. hopefully we have a hell of a race.”

“hopefully,” the only thing on toto’s mind was getting to you, before the cleanup crew started their rounds, “i will see you in the morning, lewis.”

the driver bids another farewell before catching up with george, exiting the paddock. however, he glances over his shoulder one more time, mouthing something to george before the two continue, disappearing from his line of sight.

fuck, that was unbearable. 

borderline miserable.

lights glitter all around as the team principal makes his way to your motorhome, concealed by the hood of his jacket, thankful for the brisk evening air. if he didn’t have a jacket, he would have been fucked. 

however, it was sort of difficult for the team principal to blend in. especially with his stature and size. 

as he strolls up to the door of your motorhome, he takes once last cautious look, ensuring that there was no one watching. 

yet, what the team principal forgot to account for was the production crew of drive to survive. 

and they managed to record the entire encounter as you opened the door, greeting the team principal with open arms. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @danielricciardotr @laura-naruto-fan1998 @whoisss @nebarious @joalslibrary

if you would like to be added to my taglist, please let me know! thank you for all of the support thus far! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #max verstappen #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #female driver au #george russell #lewis hamilton #f1 racing #formula one fanfiction

[sunsburns]

so what do y’all know about dodge mason

#yall don’t know about my panic era #had be giggling every time he came on screen #what a gorgeous man #mike faist #panic #loba spills her guts! #dodge mason #panic show #dodge’s cowboy hat

[cosmicbucky]

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow. 

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly. 

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.” 

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while. 

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose. 

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back. 

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags. 

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo? 

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him. 

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it. 

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year. 

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use. 

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you. 

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this. 

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it. 

He couldn’t. 

It was his wallpaper, too. 

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky au #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky drabble #bucky blurb #bucky barnes blurb #best friend!bucky #bucky and reader #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes fluff

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #call of duty smut

[fangswbenefits]

Memories

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Hurt/comfort. Fluff. I teared up writing this and figured I needed someone else to share the pain with me :D

“Miguel.”

You looked on as the man before your eyes paused the video on the hovering screen.

“It’s late,” he said in a low voice, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Did something happen?”

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow at first as you realised he was once again replaying old memories. Miguel O’Hara was stuck in the past while trying to preserve the future.

“I have something to tell you.”

You had considered waiting until he got back home, but you needed to let it all out now.

He turned to fully face you and stepped from the platform. The closer he got to you, the more you felt your anxiety soaring.

“Did something happen?” He repeated, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. “You should be home.”

This is what Miguel did. He took care of others. He couldn’t help it, even if his lifelong concern got in between the two of you.

Or three, you should say.

“I wanted to tell you now,” you smiled briefly as you took his hand in yours while taking a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

His red eyes widened slightly and then… nothing.

He merely stood there as if frozen in time, the grip on your hand slowly faltering.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“How?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Really? You’re asking me how?”

“No! I mean…” he shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did you find out?”

“Today.”

Giving your hand a final squeeze he let go, his warmth suddenly vanishing.

“Huh… I thought…” your next words died in your mouth and your heart dropped.

Seeing him walk up the platform steps left you speechless. You thought he wanted this… to rebuild the life that he lost.

Tears began to sting your eyes, but you refused to let a single one stream down your face.

A video of his daughter giggling and running around started playing and you saw him clenching his fists. Her giggles echoed through the room breaking the silence that had settled.

“Miguel O’hara, look at me!”

Had this been a mistake? Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe you two had rushed things.

“Miguel,” you called out again, anger filling you with such intensity you felt like shooting your webs at his back to have him turn around. “I’m carrying your child. Look at me!”

The cheeky giggles stopped at once and nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

Miguel did what you asked and that’s when you saw a single tear running down his hardened face.

In that moment, your anger shattered and the overwhelming need to take care of him took over.

You promptly joined him on the platform, burying your face in his broad chest. His arms circled you in a tight embrace, and you remained silent for a while.

“I’m broken.”

“Miguel… don’t…”

He heaved a deep sigh. “You deserve better.”

It wasn’t easy to go through his insecurities with him. He had built a wall around him that kept people out.

“I can’t forget her…”

Miguel O’hara had once been responsible for the destruction of

“I don’t want to forget her!” he nearly yelled, pulling you away from his embrace as his red eyes flickered with hurt. “I don’t… I don’t want to move on without the memory of her…”

You brought both hands to frame his face. “Miguel, I am not asking that of you… she will always be part of you.”

He refused to look you in the eye, his jaw tensing.

“I thought you wanted this…” you whispered, voice cracking.

“I do.”

You felt like crumbling down inside. “I thought you’d be happy.”

Miguel’s eyes met yours. “I am.”

“Then…”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. I’ve been telling myself I’m worthy of a second chance for a long time. I tell that to myself every single day,” he paused momentarily to place a large hand on your belly. “But maybe I am wrong. I’ll mess this up, too.”

Your hand came to rest atop his and you offered a kind smile. “You won’t. You’re still healing. You need—”

All of a sudden both hands came to grip your arms and that’s when you saw panic splattered across his face.

“You don’t get it! I can’t lose you,” he said, eyes darting from your face to your belly. “I do all of this, because I owe an unrepayable debt. My mistake cost the lives of so many. And I’m being selfish again…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You suddenly said, breaking free from his grip. “Why do you think I chose to be with you? To build a family with you? You’re the most honourable person I know,” you added, not able to hold back a few tears. “Yes, you made a mistake,” his face hardened. “But you paid for it. You paid the highest price.”

He was getting ready to interrupt you, but you raised your hand. “You’re going to be a father again and don’t have to forget her. She lives in you and in all that you do.”

“What would I do without you?” he finally spoke.

You chuckled, placing the softed kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’d probably set camp here in this room, and live the rest of your lives as a hermit.”

Miguel silently glared at you and when he got down on one knee, you felt all the love and adoration for him crashing down on you.

“You’re going to have an amazing mother,” he whispered softly before placing a kiss over your shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his thick brown hair before pressing the side if his face flat against your belly. “And you’ll the best father.”

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

#full fic #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fluff

[luveline]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—

"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 

"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 

Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 

The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 

"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 

Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 

"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"

"You could–" 

"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 

"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 

You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 

Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."

Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 

Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 

Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 

"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 

"That's never good." 

"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 

"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 

You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 

Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 

"You won't die." 

"How do you know?" you ask. 

"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 

"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 

"You brought it on yourself." 

You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 

"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 

"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 

"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 

He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 

"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 

He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.

"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 

"And do what?" 

You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 

Why there? 

Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 

Forget I asked. 

He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 

"I could help with the task force." 

"That's what you want to do?" 

You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 

"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 

"I could help you?" you offer. 

Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 

"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 

You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 

His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.

You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 

Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 

"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 

"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 

"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.

You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.

He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #across the spider-verse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara blurb #miguel and spidergirl reader

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

______________

Irritant and cute giggles.

That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.

But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.

Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.

Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.

Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…

“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.

“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.

Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.

He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.

You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.

You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.

“See you at home?” You ask.

Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.

“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.

The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.

Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.

…

Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).

On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.

It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.

However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.

He even started to worry something had happened.

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.

“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.

“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.

“You are.”

“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.

Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.

“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.

“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.

Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.

The scene was… interesting.

Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.

In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.

And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.

Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.

“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.

“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”

“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.

And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.

Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.

Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…

“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.

“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.

“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”

“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”

“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.

“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”

“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.

“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.

“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.

“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.

And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.

Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes

Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.

“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.

Maybe Miguel would take her word.

But first, he had to find you.

…

“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.

You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.

“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.

“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.

“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.

Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.

“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.

“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.

There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.

So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.

It’s impossible to not miss your body too.

Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.

Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.

Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.

Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.

Another big reason to love you.

He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.

A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.

“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.

Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.

Because he’s beyond in love with you.

…

As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.

“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….

“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.

“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”

“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “

“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.

“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”

“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.

But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.

But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.

“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.

“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.

“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”

“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.

“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.

It won’t be that bad.

____

Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.

My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.

You are singing between giggles and pauses.

Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.

And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.

You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.

One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?

“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.

“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.

“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.

“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.

“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”

“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.

“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.

“I’m looking at her…”

“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.

“See? I got her….” you say proudly.

Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?

“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.

“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”

He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.

You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.

Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.

All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.

And probably would not pay attention.

“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.

“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.

…

Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.

Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.

She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.

Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.

He never failed to flatter your food; never.

You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.

He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.

You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.

For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.

Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.

Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.

Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.

Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!

However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.

“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.

You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.

There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.

You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.

When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.

You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.

“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.

“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.

“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.

He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?

“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.

“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.

“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.

“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.

“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…

“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.

“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.

“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”

You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.

—

Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.

“You two had-“

“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.

“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.

“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.

“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.

Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.

“So, how was the date?”

“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.

“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.

“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.

“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.

“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.

“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.

“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.

“He’s right?”

“What?”

“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.

“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.

And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.

“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.

“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.

Impatient to feel them all across your body.

But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.

______________

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #atsv x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #accross the spiderverse

[evielmostdefinitely]

please do president!corio being soft for the reader 😭😭💖

idk where this came from i just got so inspired for this haha, but a tiny blurb <3 enjoy!

Coriolanus' hand glided over your smooth, soft skin of your back, warm with sleep and the piles of blankets you had over you. His hand trailing down your hip, your thigh, coasting back to trace halfway up your spine.

You were sprawled out next to him, arms under the pillows, rolled onto your side, leg hiked up next to you, slumbering, he assumed.

His eyes never left the screen, tongue poking in concentration at the games, his games as a mentor. Why had so many people tuned in? What drew them in? Surely it wasn't all Lucy Gray. He knew it wasn't, but he wasn't sure why.

"Hmph," You whined, squirming next to him. Your hip raised sharply, shaking his hand, another whine, nasally and demanding, falling from your lips.

Corio huffed, rolling his eyes. "You're a downright brat, you know?" He grumbled, but still, he moved his hand, rubbing your skin softly. "Spoiled beyond comprehension." He muttered.

You grinned, turning to face him, legs tucked the other way, his hand still rubbing over your hip. It was a night time tradition now. One that started out as a sneaky, sexy way to get his dick wet, but now, he was bound to his obligation. Part of his marital duties, you informed him.

He acted liked it annoyed him, rendered him inconvenienced, but you both knew better. Corio lived to spoil you, dote on you- couldn't possibly tell you no. It's why he rubbed your back so soothingly every single night, because you told him it helped you go to sleep.

"Surely some of this is your fault, hm?" You grinned softly, eyes lighting up playfully.

"I'll stop." Corio's brows raised in warning.

"You wouldn't dare." You grinned, lifting your leg, sliding it over his waist. You scooted closer, snuggling into his side, arms wrapping around his torso. "You love me too much."

Coriolanus bit back a laugh, edge of his lips curling. "You're right about that, you shrew."

"Shrew?" You gawked, gasping playfully. "Coriolanus, that is mean!" You jammed a finger into his chest, laughing lightly.

"Oh, my apologies," Corio snorted lightly, arms tightening around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. "Should have called you a succubus. Might be more fitting."

You smacked his chest lightly, rolling his eyes. "You should be thankful you're so lucky to have me." You declared, pushing half heartedly out of his grasp. "You'd have a rather cold bed without me."

"I wouldn't dare want someone else." Coriolanus muttered, pulling you back into him. You shrilled lightly, giggling at how his squeezed your waist.

You lied next to him, arms still reaching, touching him. Your leg slung over his waist, knee bent and hooked around his hip. His hand moved still, rubbing the skin of your hip, reaching uncomfortably to rub your back. His spoiled wife- he wouldn't dare have it any other way.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow blurb #tbosbas x reader #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow x you smut #coriolanus x you #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow fanfiction #president snow #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosbas #tbosbas fic #thg series #thg #the hunger games #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x capitol!reader

[stsgooo]

Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru angst #yeahhhh #another one where reader is dead #can’t help myself sorry.

[mysticworks]

One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.  

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness. 

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through. 

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances. 

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window. 

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his... 

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings? 

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you. 

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his. 

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?” 

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words. 

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ” 

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.   

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath. 

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently. 

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide. 

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you. 

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare. 

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind. 

“Here. It’s cold out.” 

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it. 

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

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

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way. 

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over. 

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando. 

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move. 

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings. 

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice. 

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away. 

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak. 

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

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

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle. 

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know. 

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away. 

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance. 

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile. 

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over. 

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient. 

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place. 

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

#ln4 #ln4 ang #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 angst #formula one angst #formula 1 angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #f1 angst

[hoshifighting]

Lingerie

Synopisis: Where, while you show off your new lingerie sets that you bought, Jun is enchanted by the lingerie with embroidered flowers, something different, that enchanted his eyes.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Smut, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), praising, squirt & etc.

Jun had always been the epitome of a supportive boyfriend. Whether it was your college work, cooking a new dish, or even finding the perfect dress for a wedding, Jun was there, ready to assist. He made everything feel effortless, always taking care of the details so you didn’t have to worry.

“Jun, I really don’t know how to tackle this assignment,” you’d sigh, frustration evident in your voice.

He would slide over, peering at your laptop screen. “Let me take a look. Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas together,” he’d suggest with a gentle smile, and before you knew it, the daunting task felt manageable.

In the kitchen, you once struggled with a recipe you’d never tried before. Jun found the perfect tutorial online and stood by your side, guiding you step by step until the dish was ready, his patience never wavering.

And when it came to shopping for that perfect dress for a friend’s wedding, Jun’s patience shone through. You spent hours in the mall, trying on what felt like a hundred different outfits. Yet, Jun never complained. He sat outside the dressing rooms, offering genuine opinions.

“That one’s nice, but I think the blue dress brings out your eyes more,” he’d say, making the decision-making process so much easier.

His opinions always seemed spot-on, which is why you’d come to trust his judgment on many things, especially when it came to your wardrobe. Shopping with him became an enjoyable experience rather than a chore.

Today was another shopping day, and you were on the hunt for a new outfit for an upcoming event. As usual, Jun was by your side, carrying your bags and offering his thoughts on the clothes you tried on.

“What do you think of this one?” you asked, stepping out of the fitting room in a sleek, black dress.

Jun looked up from his phone, his eyes lighting up. “You look amazing. But maybe try it with those heels we saw earlier?”

You nodded, smiling. “You always know what looks best.”

After a few more outfits and Jun’s invaluable input, you finally settled on a dress. As you walked out of the store, you linked your arm with his, feeling grateful for his constant support.

“Thank you for always being so patient with me,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jun chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s easy when I’m with you. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

He says that with the greatest naturalness. – While you were freaking out inside.

As you arrived home, Jun noticed you were carrying a few extra bags, including some from a lingerie store he knew well. He had bought you gifts from that store before, particularly on Valentine's Day.

“When did you buy these?” Jun asked, curiosity and a hint of excitement in his voice.

You smiled, placing the bags on the table. “When you went to get ice cream,” you replied nonchalantly.

Jun's eyes lit up, a playful smirk spreading across his face. The thought of you picking out something special while he was away added a spark of anticipation.

Later that evening, after dinner and a cozy time together, you both retreated to the bedroom. Jun sat comfortably in the poltrone, eagerly waiting as you prepared to show him the new lingerie. He could hardly contain his excitement, his eyes following your every movement.

First, you stepped out in a stunning red set, the vibrant color highlighting your curves beautifully. Jun's jaw dropped, and he couldn't help but cover his face, cheeks flushed red. “Wow, you look incredible,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

You giggled, twirling around to give him a full view. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Jun nodded, peeking through his fingers, his eyes filled with admiration.

Next, you slipped into a sleek black set, the lace and satin combination making you feel both elegant and seductive. You strutted around the room, feeling confident under Jun's appreciative gaze. “This one is my favorite so far,” he confessed, his voice slightly hoarse with desire.

“You're too sweet,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words.

Finally, you emerged in a delicate white set, the purity of the color contrasting beautifully with the sultry design. Jun couldn't take his eyes off you, his face still a deep shade of red. “You look like an angel,” he whispered, his praise as genuine as ever.

You walked over to him, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you like them. You always make me feel so beautiful.”

Jun smiled, his hands gently holding your waist. “That’s because you are. And I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You stepped into the room, adorned in a pastel floral lingerie, a departure from your usual style. You knew it, and Jun knew it too. But this time, instead of his usual enthusiastic response, Jun remained silent. He simply stared at you, his gaze sweeping over your figure from head to toe. His mouth hung slightly open, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath.

Concerned by his lack of reaction, you couldn't help but ask, “Don't you like it?”

Jun didn't respond with words. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his movements purposeful and determined. Before you could even react, he pressed his lips to yours, his hand firmly holding the nape of your neck while the other encircled your waist.

Your eyes widened in surprise at his sudden action, but you quickly melted into the kiss, allowing yourself to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace. His lips moved with a fervent passion, igniting a fire within you that quickly spread throughout your entire being.

As he gently laid you down on the bed, Jun's eyes remained fixed on you, his gaze intense and unwavering. His hands began to explore your body with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. Fingers traced delicate patterns across your breasts, down your belly, until they reached the band of your panties.

You held your breath in anticipation, your heart racing with excitement. But instead of removing your panties entirely, Jun surprised you by simply pushing them to the side. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers found their target, circling your clit with a feather-light touch.

The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back instinctively, pressing yourself against his hand as he continued to tease and tantalize you. 

As Jun's fingers slid inside your wet pussy, you couldn't help but arch your back in response to the delightful sensation. A low moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively pressing against his hand as he began to explore your gummy walls.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he gazed upon you. "Every curve, every sigh, it's all so perfect."

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you couldn't help but cover your face in embarrassment. "Stop it, Jun," you protested weakly, though the desire that burned within you betrayed your words.

But Jun was undeterred, his fingers never faltering in their ministrations as he continued to lavish you with praise. "I can't help it," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire. "You drive me wild, you know that? Just seeing you like this, so hot, so pretty..."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself squirming beneath him, unable to contain the desire that coursed through your veins. With a gentle touch, Jun reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"You don't need to hide from me," he whispered, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I want to see all of you, every part of you."

Jun's response was immediate and decisive, his actions speaking louder than words as he lowered himself between your thighs without hesitation. As his warm breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh, anticipation coursed through your veins.

Without a word, Jun buried his face in your heat, his tongue flicking out to taste your arousal. A moan escaped your lips at the touch of his tongue on your clit, pleasure radiating out from where his lips and tongue touched you.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with need as you pressed against him, urging him to go deeper. "I need you, Jun. I need you to fuck me."

But Jun simply chuckled against your skin, his movements deliberate and unhurried as he teased you with languid strokes of his tongue. 

You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as your body begged for release. But Jun was relentless, his ministrations driving you to the brink of madness as he expertly toyed with your bud.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Jun's touch changed, becoming more insistent, more demanding. With a low growl, he devoured you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he consumed you like his last meal.

With a final, desperate cry, you reached the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Jun drank in your essence greedily, his tongue working tirelessly to draw out every last drop of your pleasure.

As you eagerly anticipated his next move, Jun teased you with his cock, allowing you only the briefest of touches before pulling away again. Your frustration mounted with each fleeting contact, but Jun seemed to relish in your desperation, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he toyed with you.

"Patience, my love," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire. "Good things come to those who wait."

With a wicked grin, he finally positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. You could feel the heat of his arousal against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

And then, with a single, smooth motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. You gasped at the suddenness of his entry, your body clenching around him in ecstasy.

"God, Jun," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "I think I could cum just from the feeling of you sliding inside me."

Jun's chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he teased you, adjusting your legs to rest on his shoulders. The new angle made you feel him even deeper, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Jun murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I love seeing you like this…"

You could only nod in response, your breath hitching as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

"You're so beautiful like this, taking me so well," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me to fill you up." 

"You're mine, all mine," he growled, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "No one else can make you feel like this, can they? Only me."

You whimpered in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washed over you. Jun's words fueled your desire, pushing you closer to the brink of orgasm with each passing moment.

Your words tumbled out in a desperate gasp as pleasure consumed you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, Jun!" you cried out, feeling his cock driving you to the edge. The sensation of him sliding in, wet and sharp, only intensified the pleasure coursing through you.

As you felt the knot unraveling in your belly, you came around him, your body pulsating with ecstasy. But Jun didn't stop there; he continued, spreading your legs wide as he gazed into your eyes with unwavering intensity. He captured every expression on your face, savoring the way you looked as you cummed.

pleasure crash over you. When Jun let out a choked moan, his face contorted in bliss, you felt a gulp of anticipation. His hot cum filled you, triggering another orgasm that ripped through you, causing you to squirt around him.

As his cock slipped out of you, you felt his cum mixing with yours, spilling out from within you. Jun watched you with awe, his eyes wide with amazement at the sight before him.

Jun leaned in close, his hands gently caressing your trembling body as he whispered soothing words to coax you from your orgasmic haze. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips, his touch gentle and reassuring as he helped you come down from the intense high. You melted into his embrace.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt smut #seventeen fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen fanfic #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x oc #jun smut #jun fluff #jun imagines #jun reactions #jun x y/n #jun x you #jun x reader #jun x oc #jun fanfic #moon junhui #wen junhui #junhui smut #junhui imagines

[starryriize]

could i request producer!taesan who has been in his studio 24/7 and you miss him so much so you decide to surprise him by visiting his studio and he’s so stressed that he needs to let his frustrations out on you so you two get freaky in his studio and he’s really soft!dòm because he just missed you so much????

pretty melody | taesan

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼 pairing: producer!taesan and gf!reader

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼 genre/word count: fluffy smut! 953 words!

╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼 author’s notes: nonnie, you’re so smart🤭 i’m not sure if this is even that good and i’m sorry that this late :(( i’m so bad at endings … semi-proofread!

🫧laur's taglist: @chiiyuuvv @cherrycolaberry @leehanascent

minors dni!

smut under the cut!

Taesan couldn’t remember a time when he was this stuck on trying to find the perfect melody. It’d been hours since he sat down in his studio to compose a new song that had popped into his head just this morning. It was now reaching 2am of the next day and the ideas have came to a standstill. He loved the idea, lyrics, genre- everything. Well, everything but the bridge. Staring blankly at the screen, he sighed softly, running his hands through his hair.

The quiet knocks on the studio door snapped him out of his concentration. Taking a sip of his water, he mumbled quietly, “Come in.” You peeked in, holding a takeout bag and drinks to go with the food. “You and I both know that the cure to everything is food,” you declare, a playful smile on your lips.

Hesitantly, you ask, “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” He shakes his head, already shutting his laptop to focus fully on you. In fact, he wondered why he didn’t take you with him to his studio sessions before. You were a walking muse with eyes that sparkled like the brightest stars in the sky and a smile that rivaled the sunshine itself. Getting up, he took a seat on the small sofa next to you, reaching for your hand. Letting his head fall forward into the crook of your neck, he whispers against your skin, “You’re really pretty, did you know?” You let out a giggle, finding your boyfriend’s sweet words slightly cliché. “You’ve told me, yes.”

Pulling his head up, his eyes catch yours before he mumbles, “Can I try something with you?” The question itself is innocent enough but there was something about his eyes that made you think it wasn’t so innocent. You know the room is soundproof and he’s fucked you before, but never in his studio. Something about this had you pressing your legs together in pure desire. As he turned around, he smirked at you, gesturing for you to sit on his lap in his producer chair. Quickly pulling you down into his lap, he captures your lips in a gentle yet desperate kiss.

Your kisses escalated as his tongue molded against yours. Breathless sighs escaped your mouth, your mind becoming foggy and getting drunk on the taste of strawberries on his lips. Reaching next to you, he pressed the small button that signaled the mic was now recording.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds now, love.”

—

There was something about how pretty you looked as he fucked you faster, how your moans sounded beautiful. Maybe it was the fact that he was recording it all. All he knew was that he would make sure to fill you up like you deserve to be.

Grabbing your hips, he pulls you downward, causing his dick to hit your sweet spot. God, you were so perfect- in every way. But he especially missed how tight your pussy was- the way you gripped and clenched around him had him inwardly groaning, trying not to cum immediately.

“Ah,” he sighs, “I missed you so much.” It was sweet words but a sharp contrast to the slow yet steady thrusts of his hips upward. You were so far gone. Sighing happily, you whisper, “I missed you too.” Not wanting Taesan to do all the work, you roll your hips, causing him to gasp at your sudden boldness. The only girl in the world who could make him lose his mind and be perfectly okay with it. His hands were warm against your exposed waist, gently pulling you down in tandem with each thrust. You looked so beautiful like this. Taesan found himself lost in his thoughts, completely enamored by the sight of you on his lap, in his studio.

Something about the entire situation made him snap. Sneaking his arms beneath your legs, he got up, gesturing for you to jump so he could carry you. With your legs now wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, he carried you to the soundboard, placing you down. All the buttons and switches were going off, but neither of you cared about it. Before you could say anything, Taesan cuts you off with a deep kiss. “Mmmph-“ you can barely get out words without him devouring your mouth in desperation.

Too distracted by his kisses, you fail to notice him inserting his dick back into you. The tip of his cock hits your cervix as he buries himself to the hilt. As if mimicking his slow pace from earlier, he pulls out to only the tip and then slams his dick back in causing your eyes to widen. “It feels so…..” Your words are lost as you try to explain- only able to gasp and sigh breathlessly. “Shh. I know. Just be a good girl and let me please you.”

Those words made you smile, knowing that he was telling the truth. He would give the world if you asked and he wouldn’t hesitate to make you feel like the prettiest girl- at any moment. You were an angel come down from heaven, his angel.

“You’re gonna be the most perfect mother.” Your eyes flutter at his words, delirious on the thought of him filling you up with his cum. Making you his, practically marking you on the inside. It had you babbling, muttering a “y-yes please” through broken whines. He’d abandoned his previous rhythm, wanting only to see your face contort in ecstasy. With every one of your moans, he seemed to increase his speed, only slowing down to tease you. Your food was long forgotten and Taesan finally found what was missing from his song: your sinful moans.

#laur’s thoughts 🧚🏼‍♀️ #pretend this is good 😭 #bnd imagines #boynextdoor imagines #bnd x reader #taesan smut #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor x reader #taesan x reader

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Idol!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : cheating ; breakup ; regret ; very angsty ; surprise pregnancy ; Word Count : 3.5k Request : it was the winner of the poll, does that count? A/N : Here we go!! Gonna make this one hurt!

You sat on the couch, knee bouncing, phone in your hand, watching as the clock at the top of your lock screen switched to 3 in the morning. Not a single text, not a call, nothing from the man whose selfie adorned your lock screen with his puffy cheeks and his adorable smile that you fell in love with every single time he flashed it at you. You had gotten nothing since he had left for the award show almost 9 hours ago, the award show that you had watched from start to finish, even catching the moment when all of the artists had gotten up to start heading out. He wasn’t there anymore… But he sure as hell wasn’t home. 

Maybe he just went back to the dorms… Was what you had thought at first, just a simple thought to try to ease your mind and keep you from thinking the worst, but if that were the case you were sure that he would have texted you to let you know instead of keeping you up all night waiting for some type of communication. Had something bad happened? No, you would have seen it on the news and you were sure that you would have heard something by now. No… He was just ignoring you… Maybe he was just drunk. 

Either way, you wanted to call him just to be sure, especially since you were tired of waiting around for him. You dialed his number and let it ring, and maybe you should have hung up after the third ring to save yourself the heartache that came once the phone was answered. Not by him though, by someone else… You wished it had been one of the guys, but it wasn’t… It was a girl, one that sounded drunk and flustered and… God, you didn’t even want to think about the sinful noises that were made between each word as you heard your fiance's drunken giggles in the background mixed with his own noises… Noises that you had heard on multiple occasions when you were the one sharing the bed with him. 

“Sorry… wrong number…” You had mumbled, trying to hold back the sobs that were caught in your throat, feeling like they were going to choke you completely. You couldn’t breathe, your vision was a blur, the room felt like it was spinning, but you knew that the nauseous feeling wasn’t from being dizzy… No… it was from knowing that the man that you had planned on spending the rest of your life with, the man that you were willing to devote the rest of your life to was lower than low… And the men that you had trusted to look out for you like brothers look out for their sisters had most likely cheered on that man when he took another woman into his bedroom. 

It was hard to remember when you fell asleep, but you knew that you didn’t do it on purpose considering you woke up on the couch the next morning curled up in the fetal position. Your eyelids felt heavy and the sunlight that poured in through the open window burned your sensitive eyes that had been draining tears like a faucet the night before. “Looks like someone fell asleep while watching the award show. You’re so cute, shnookems.” Jisungs voice sounded out from somewhere close by, although your sleep and tear blurred vision made it hard to focus on where he truly was. 

You would have just thought that the night before was a bad dream, just some awful nightmare that you had since he wasn’t at home next to you, but when he let out that quiet little giggle it brought you back to the phone call and you felt sick all over again. “I hate you…” You said as flatly as possible, wiping the sleep from your eyes to finally focus on him, the way his smile faded to a look of shock at what you had said. “Don’t… Don’t talk to me… I hate you… I’m done with you.” 

Not even a good morning, nothing to start the day so that you could lead into the breakup. You went straight for it, diving headfirst into the conversation. “Wh-What are you talking about? Babe, come on… That’s… That’s not funny. Come on… You must have had a bad dream or something… let’s get you some coffee.” He stammered, pushing himself up off the recliner to walk over to where you were now sitting up on the couch, fresh tears already brewing on your bottom lashes. 

His hands were outstretched, waiting for you to grab them or maybe even take your place between his arms, but you smacked them away, shaking your head as you glared up at him. “You’re shit! You’re a lousy, no good, cheater! And don’t you even try to lie to me and say that you didn’t because I fucking heard you, Jisung!” You shouted, although your voice cracked on multiple occasions. You were devastated, heartbroken, but most of all you were pissed. 

So badly you wanted him to deny it, to tell you that it wasn’t true, but his hesitation and the look of guilt that washed over his features was enough for you to know that it hadn’t been a bad dream, that what you heard was real. “Babe… Let’s just… Can we talk about it?” He whispered, keeping his hands at his sides although you could see in the way that they were twitching that he wanted nothing more than to hold you, although you would have just pushed him away if he tried to. 

“Talk about what? I don’t want to hear lies or excuses. I heard enough last night. I waited up for you after the fucking show, I waited until 3 in the goddamn morning… And I called you… And some… Some other girl answered and I… I fucking heard everything. You disgust me! I want nothing to do with you!” You finally pushed yourself off the couch, trying to move past him, but his arms wrapped around you, trying so hard to keep you from walking away. “Don’t! Don’t touch me!” You screamed, pushing him away from you. 

It seemed so hypocritical for him to be crying right now, especially since you were the one that had been cheated on, but alas, the tears that flowed down your cheeks were perfectly mirrored on his face. “I was drunk! I was drunk and I know that’s not an excuse, but I really… I truly didn’t mean it! I swear to god, I didn’t!” He sobbed, taking tiny steps towards you, but for each small step that he took, you took two more back. “Baby… please… I love you so fucking much… I… I can’t breathe… I just… I need to know that things will be okay. I can… I’m sorry… If you need space, I can do that… Just don’t… Don’t leave me… Please.” 

“How…” You scoffed, shaking your head, laughing in both shock and disbelief at the audacity that he had to even try to plead. “How can you possibly be so fucking selfish? You don’t have the right to tell me not to leave after you cheated on me. I’m done. We’re over. You can…” You pulled the ring from your finger, the ring that you promised that you’d never take off… But that was before all this, before you knew how he really was. “You can have this back, I don’t want it. I don’t want any parts of you. I’m so fucking glad that this happened before I was dumb enough to marry you.” You threw the ring to the floor right at his feet, the diamond facets reflecting the light of the sun. “Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t try to have one of the guys try to get in touch with me either. I don’t want anything to do with you or anything that you do once I walk out that door.” 

“Then don’t walk out…” The words rushed out as he swiped the ring off the floor and ran over to where you were standing. “I’m stupid… I’m so stupid. I don’t want to lose this… I don’t want to lose you. One chance… I just want one chance to prove to you that… That I didn’t mean to do it, I’ll never do it again. It was a mistake!” 

“Would you just stop already?!” You hissed, whipping around on your heel to face him as he followed you into the bedroom. “This is hard enough for me, and I don’t need you hounding me about how sad you are because you fucked up. You don’t deserve a second chance, you don’t deserve anymore chances because you’re a cheater, and once a cheater, always a cheater. So either help me pack my shit up so I can get the fuck away from you, or go sit and wallow in your self pity in the living room while I do it myself.” 

///

“So you’re not gonna say anything about it? You’re not even gonna tell him?” Soobin asked as he sat across from you in the little cafe. He had been your savior since you had left Jisung, allowing you to crash in the dorms at night until it got to the point where he eventually just told you that you might as well live there. He and the rest of the boys rarely ever saw the ones that you were trying to avoid unless they were on music shows, but Jisung was none the wiser that you, Soobin, and the rest of the guys had gotten so close. It made it easy to stay with them and practically hide out in their dorm until you made enough money to get a place of your own. 

“Soob… With all due respect, I haven’t even had the time to process it myself, and the last thing I want to deal with is my ex fiance coming back into my life when it’s been turned upside down once again.” You retorted, running your hands over your face as you let out a loud sigh. “I’ve got so much shit that I have to figure out, and I have less than 4 months to do it. I’m stressed enough as it is… I don’t need him to add onto that.” 

It was crazy, but you were pregnant, and to find out when you were already 5 months along was even crazier. You hadn’t gained any weight that you knew about, and even if you did gain anything, it wasn’t enough for you to think that it was from anything but maybe eating a little bit more than you usually would. You had experienced no symptoms at all, and you were so stressed with life itself that you hadn’t even cared for the fact that you might have missed a few periods, you even accompanied the lateness to the overload of stress. 

It wasn’t until you felt something weird, the movement in your stomach, that you asked Yeonjun to take you to the hospital because you had for some reason assumed that you had somehow gotten worms. “But it would be his kid, right? I mean… Doesn’t he have the right to know? I’m not telling you to do it now… But… I mean… it’s his kid.” Soobin tried to reason with you, and you hated that you had decided to confide in one of the two level headed ones in the group, but he was also easier to talk with and you were closer with him than the others. 

“I’m not going to hide it from him… I’m just not ready to tell him yet. Let me work this out in my own head first and then I’ll drop the bomb on him.” Although you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to tell him. Sure, it was his child, but you also didn’t want to have to deal with sharing custody of this surprise child with your cheating ex. It would be so much easier to just raise the baby yourself and if anyone asked, you could just say that it was someone else’s, although that felt morally wrong… But then again, what Jisung did was morally wrong as well. “I’ve got to figure out housing, I’ve got to tell my boss… It’s a lot… I don’t want to deal with him right now.” 

Soobin nodded, humming understandingly as he reached across the table, placing his hand over top of yours that was drumming nervously against the wooden top. “It is a lot, and that’s why me and the guys are going to help you. You can continue staying at the dorms, even after the baby is born if you don’t find a place soon enough. We will help you.” And maybe it was the hormones that caused it, but the kindness of his words and the softness in his eyes had you uncontrollably weeping in the tiny cafe. “Oh boy… Uhm… Come on… Let’s get you back home.” 

///

Jisung sat in the interview chair, his mind cloudy from lack of sleep. Promotional tours and mini shows had him exhausted, and working on the new album kept him busier than he usually would be. He was thankful for it though, unable to think too much about his mistakes, having no time to think about you and what you might be doing. He missed you, but it was clear from the lack of texts or calls back that you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you had blocked him, and he wouldn’t blame you if you did, but it would be better that way so you wouldn’t have to read the texts that he sent you daily about how sorry he was and how much he loved you. 

“Are you ready to start?” The interviewer asked, and all the guys nodded in unison, all except Jisung who was trying his best to just keep his head from falling forward and dozing off. “Great! So, my first question is for Han…” The sound of his name had his eyes shooting open, pretending that he wasn’t on the verge of passing out right then and there, nodding to let the interviewer know that she could keep going. “So, we’ve all read the headlines and, we’ve come up with our own conclusions regarding some recent events in your life…” The vagueness had Jisung lowering his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for her to get to her point, but a part of him had a sinking feeling on where the question was going. “How do you feel about your ex fiancee being seen out on dates with another idol?” 

Jisung wasn’t very up to date on current news, especially in the world of music considering he had his own headlines to make with the upcoming album. He hadn’t seen anything about you being out on dates with anyone, especially another idol, and he surely hadn’t heard about it in his little circle of other famous friends. He wasn’t even sure if what the interviewer was saying was true, but if it was, his genuine reaction would be heartbroken, but he had to play it off like he wasn’t. “Well, we’ve been apart for… For a while now and… Well, if whoever she’s with is making her happy, who am I to be upset about that. I want nothing but the best for her and whoever she may be with…” He said, trying his best to sound confident, but he was already getting choked up and he felt his eyes glossing over as tears threatened to fall. “Can we take a quick break? I’m sorry.” 

Minho was quick to follow behind the younger man who had rushed into the closest corner as he tried to cry as quietly as possible, which was quite hard, and it felt like all the eyes in the room were on him right now. “Hey… Hey, come on man. Calm down. We don’t even know if it was Y/N that was in whatever pictures that the interviewer was talking about. It could have been anyone, and you know that sometimes interviewers say things to try to get certain reactions out of us. It’s okay…” He tried to pat Jisungs shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but when the younger man turned around he was an absolute wreck. 

“But what if it is her? I know it’s been months, and I know I fucked up, but I don’t want her with anyone else. I want to be the one to make her happy and take her on dates. I want to be the one that comes home to her at night and cuddles up next to her.” Minho grimaced at the cringy images that were being painted in his mind right now, but he tried to hide it, he was really trying to be there for Jisung even though he knew what had happened, and if asked to take a side, although not in front of Jisung, he would take yours in a heartbeat. “What other idol would do that? I’m so nice to everyone… Who would take her from me like that? Why?” 

Minho shook his head, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out slowly. “I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself. You need to calm down and finish the interview, and then we’ll go home and work things out after we figure out what is going on. Okay?” Minho offered, and in the back of his mind he was hoping that whoever it was in the picture wasn’t you because that would surely only make things worse, and Minho didn’t want to see Jisung worse than what he was right now. 

///

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asked, and you turned the corner of the hall to look at him, about to open your mouth to question what he was talking about or who he was talking to, but he quickly lifted his finger to his lips in a motion for you to stay silent, which you quickly obliged to. “Jisung, she’s not here. I don’t know what pictures you thought you saw, but I really think you’re freaking out for no reason.” He put his phone on speaker so you could listen, and part of you wished that he hadn’t because hearing Jisung put two and two together was making you freak out just as much as he was. 

“I’m not freaking out for no reason!” Jisungs shrill voice screeched through the speakers of Soobins phone. “I know what my fiancee looks like! I’ve had multiple photos taken of her and I like that! I know that’s her! Why are you with her?! You took her from me!” He continued shouting, and you could hear his voice breaking at the end of each sentence and then the heavy shaking breaths as he tried to catch his breath between crying and speaking. 

Soobin shook his head, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Clearly Jisung wasn’t going to back down, and you didn’t want Soobins life to be made harder by Jisungs constant badgering, so just as Soobin was about to speak, you spoke up. “He didn’t take me from you.” You stated matter-of-factly, and Soobins mouth fell open as silence filled Jisungs end of the line. “You cheated on me. You caused this. And you can stop attacking him. It’s not like we’re together, I’m not with anyone right now because I’ve got bigger things to deal with and handle then finding someone else to be in my life.” 

You heard Jisung gasp, and then the shuffle of feet as he seemingly ran off somewhere, maybe somewhere more private, or maybe somewhere where all of the guys were, you weren’t quite sure. “Why… Why are you hiding from me? Why are you ignoring me? I just want to see you… I just… I need to see you. I fucked things up, I get that… But… Maybe we can be friends… I still want you in my life, Y/N…” He whispered, and it made it clear that wherever he went, it was far away from anyone and everyone. “Can we just meet up or something? I can even come over to their dorms if you don’t want to be alone with me… Just… Something, anything… please?” 

You looked around the dorm that was littered with boxes from nursery furniture, a stockpile of diapers, wipes, and baby bottles and powdered formula just so that you’d be ready. There was no way in hell that he’d be able to come over here and see you without figuring out what was going on. “No… I… I don’t want to see you.” You muttered, biting your bottom lip, and for some reason, foolishly waiting for Jisung to understand. 

“Well… I don’t care. I want to see you and… And I’m coming over. I’m coming over to see you dammit.” He said, and before you or Soobin could argue against it, the call had ended, leaving you and Soobin to stare at each other with panicked eyes. This wouldn’t end well… There’s no way it could. 

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[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || Sewing Hearts On Their Sleeves

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

It had been a long three weeks without seeing you in person and it was starting to put a strain on Chan's work, because how could he write music when you were his muse and you weren't here to inspire him? He sighed a little trying not to get too stressed about everything, he could always start fresh tomorrow and that was when his phone buzzed beside him.

You: Don't forget to go home early, you need some sleep xx

The text flashed on the screen and Chan smiled to himself, it was about ten so he could head home to the dorms now and get some sleep. As he began packing everything up he stopped and stared down at the hoodie that was sitting on the sofa behind him. It wasn't completely obvious but sitting on the right cuff of his sleeve were two little hearts sewn into the fabric, a blue and pink heart and his heart clenched a little at the thought of you spending the time to do that.

MINHO:

The boys relentlessly teased Minho for wearing the hoodie you'd sewn hearts into but he adored it. Not only was it cute but the hoodie smelled like you so he always knew what to do whenever he was missing you.

"Who would have guessed that Minho was a softy." Jisung teased as he watched his older member take out the hoodie from his wardrobe and change into it, taking in a deep breath before visibly relaxing in front of everyone's eyes.

"I can't help it," He mumbled a little glancing at the boys who were all smirking in his direction now.

"They've barely been gone two days," Chan teased before a pillow was launched in his direction by Minho who went back to snuggling into the hoodie.

CHANGBIN:

There had to be over five different hoodies that you'd sewn cute little hearts into, and then there had to be more T-shirts as well and Changbin took every single one of them on tour with him. He did it so that he could feel close to you while you were so far away from each other,

"Are you wearing the heart shirt?!" You squealed, Changbin had called and while you were talking he'd posted a photo of him at the gym. He was dressed in one of the shirts you'd sewn a bunch of hearts onto the chest of.

"I've worn one every chance I've got," He laughed a little before you giggled excitedly at the thought of your boyfriend doing that just because he missed you.

HYUNJIN:

"What are you doing?" You laughed as your boyfriend came rushing into the living room you shared and dropped - what had to be every single shirt and jumper he owned at your feet.

"Can you do it to every single one?" You stared at him a little dumbfounded,

"Hyunjin, I'd be here forever. Do you know how many clothes you own?!" You teased before he sat down beside you, looking at the careful needle work you'd been doing on the sleeve of one of his hoodies.

"Okay...Maybe a couple of my favourites, then I can always have you with me," He pouted a little before you nodded, kissing his pouting lips and watching in amusement as your boyfriend found out all of his favourite pieces.

JISUNG:

You thought Jisung was upset with you at first, he'd come in from work to find you sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor with your sewing kit around you and his favourite hoodie in hand. Before you could explain what it was you were doing he'd run out of the room and you hadn't seen him since.

"I bought yours," Jisung said as he came back into the room, sitting in front of you and matching your exact position,

"Now we can have matching hoodies." He said as he pointed to the heart on his sleeve and then held out the hoodie for you to start sewing another matching heart into.

"You sure?" You teased, you knew he'd been wanting matching clothes for ages now but could never figure a way around it until now.

"I want matching clothes with you," He whined before you kissed him and began to get to work.

FELIX:

As soon as fans started to see Felix wearing the hoodie they all began to question him on where he got it from since none of them could find it online. Your relationship was still a secret for now and he was nervous about telling them he'd been the one to sew them into it since he would be taking credit for your hard work.

"Tell them, baby, it's fine." You laughed as he asked you if you were sure for the millionth time that day, he gave you a sad look.

"I love them, I love you, and You and I both know who really did it." He told you before kissing you and smiling a little as he blushed.

"I do. Now go," You whined pushing him toward the bedroom where the phone was waiting for him to go live.

SEUNGMIN:

"You're gross," You grumbled to Seungmin as you watched him cradle the hoodie to his chest and shake his head at you. It was in desperate need of a wash, You knew why he didn't want you to wash it but it needed it and you weren't going to let him get away with a dirty hoodie.

"Babe, it has stains all over it." You mumbled trying to take it from his grasp but he only seemed to tighten his hold on it and you sighed at him.

"What if I agree to do another hoodie for you? Will that mean I can wash this one?" As soon as you suggested it Seungmin dropped the hoodie and smirked at you, running to go and find a different one for you to sew into.

JEONGIN:

Sewing things into your clothes had been something you'd picked up over the years, it started when you had nothing else to do while watching a show and now it was something you just did for fun. Which was why it was surprising to you when Jeongin begged you to do it to some of his clothes,

"Can you do little hearts? Two of them! In our favourite colours!" He yelled from the bedroom as he came out with two black hoodies, one for you and one for him and a giant smile spread across his cheeks. How could you ever say no to that?

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[whimsyeo]

perfect for you

જ⁀➴ jeong yunho x fem!reader (ft. seonghwa)

༄ yunho prepares the perfect date to finally pop the question to you. absolutely nothing goes as planned.

wc; 2.7k

cw; failed marriage proposal, established relationship, absolute pure fluff, minor injury (reader), slight mention of blood, yunho’s trying his best okay</3

notes; on a writing kick here lately, and i had to write something sweet to make up for my last angsty yunho fic! small spoiler: he cries this time haha :,)

🎧 sunlight by hozier & 18 by one direction

Yunho had been planning this night for weeks. With the help of resident hopeless romantic, his close friend Seonghwa, he was certain the preparations couldn't of gone any better.

A romantic dinner followed by a walk in the park to a decided upon clearing, where you two could watch the stars together. Then, while you were distracted by the constellations, he would get down on one knee and ask you the question that's been weighing on his mind and even heavier on his heart for as long as he's known you.

Truly, he's known all along. Blurted it out, too, before he could stop himself on what was just your very second date together. That he could imagine himself marrying you. He had turned red in the face from the blunder while you only giggled. He was relieved his declaration hadn't bothered you at all, and spurred on by the sound of your unabashed joy, he felt all the more assured of his feelings.

Seonghwa had suggested not doing anything too out of the ordinary from your regular date nights to not draw any suspicion. Yunho agreed with this, as difficult as it was not to pounce on you from sheer excitement after finally seeing you in the dress he had bought you just for this evening. You both occasionally coordinated the other for your respective planned date nights, so you'd had no qualms about wearing what he had picked out for you. You looked a dream in the dark red fabric, the color suiting you perfectly and the fit even better than Yunho could've imagined (women's sizing was a complete mystery to him, and so he felt once again grateful to have had Seonghwa's help).

He finds himself staring at the expanse of your bare shoulders when you call him on it, his gaze snapping to meet your's with what can only be a blinding smile. He can't hide his enthusiasm in the slightest, but given your past comparisons of him to that of a hyperactive puppy on just any regular day, he's hopeful that his demeanor comes as no surprise to you. The star gazing would be new for you both, but otherwise, you didn't seem the slightest bit privy to his actual plans. He feels positive that the night is already going so well.

Until it doesn't.

"Sunday?" Yunho asked, brows pulled together in confusion. "Are you sure? I'm positive I made the reservation for Saturday."

Yunho pats down his pants, the weight of the ring in his front pocket suddenly feeling so much heavier, and sighs when he can't find the familiar imprint of his phone. Of course, he'd left it in his car.

"I'm sorry, sir," the hostess says, tapping on the screen in front of her. "Your reservation was made for the 21st."

"Today's the 20th?" He mumbles to himself. He had prepared for everything so thoroughly, how could he have gotten the actual date wrong?

"It happens, love," you reassure from beside him. He glances over as you rub his arm, an unwavering smile still present on your face. "There's an Italian place across the street. I'm pretty sure they're reservation optional."

Yunho relaxes at your quick thinking. He had felt himself begin to spiral, already believing the whole night was ruined because he somehow messed up this one little thing. He realizes he shouldn't let a small mix up change the entire course of the night, so he nods, giving you an appreciative grin as he agrees.

The place you mentioned is, in fact, directly across from your usual date spot. Yunho never paid it much mind, as you two only ever came to this side of town for the same restaurant every time. But standing outside of it now, the building is just as inviting. Warm lighting shining through the iron windows and then the door when he holds it open for you. The blend of aromas from where you enter is pleasant, and he almost feels silly for nearly panicking over something so honestly small. It was a shame the same restaurant he'd officially asked you out in wouldn't be apart of your proposal story now, but while you appreciated those kinds of sentimental attachments as much as he did, he knew better than to think it would actually change anything for you.

(Yunho had asked you before about what your dream proposal might look like. He had imagined something like a ferris wheel ride, or watching the fireworks together on a warm summer night. A customary dish from your dream travel destination or maybe a home cooked picnic.

"You could propose to me with a paper ring and I'd still say yes," you told him so easily. As if your words didn't make his heart nearly leap entirely out of his chest and run home to you, it's true holder, from the deep affection that floods him.

The topic of marriage wasn't uncharted territories for you both. You talked about it before as something you would equally want whenever the timing is right. Yunho only ever held out for your sake, really. In his heart of hearts he'd always known it belonged with you.

Unable to contain the love he feels any longer, he pressed a firm kiss onto your cheek, "I just want it to be perfect for you. All you've ever dreamed of."

Yunho means it with his whole being. You could ask for the world and he'd find a way to give it to you, or at least run to the very ends of the Earth trying. Never giving up on his search unless you were the one to then tell him to.

You sit up suddenly, him pouting at the loss of warmth by his side while you turn to him seriously. Cupping either side of his face as your eyes pour into his, you make absolute sure that your words are heard loud and clear.

"You are everything I've ever dreamed of, Yunho.")

You're sat comfortably in a booth meant for two when the waiter brings your food, you both having settled for variations of the same pasta dish. The smell is just as inviting as when you first walked it.

As Yunho always does, he waits for you to begin eating first. It's only after you take a bite that he then picks up his own fork, and as he's bringing it to his mouth, he notices your gaze fixed on him.

"What?" He asks, nonchalant. He takes the bite off the fork while your shoulder shake with barley contained laughter. His chewing slows to a stop as the realization dawns on him. He looks down at his plate, a frown creasing between his brows. "Oh. This tastes horrible."

Your giggles break through at that, his head shooting up at the sound and a grin taking over his face on it's own accord.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling despite your words. "It does."

Yunho can't help but chuckle as well, and before long you're both unable to contain your equally loud laughter. Yunho can't find it in himself to be upset at yet another unexpected bump in the road when you just find it so funny.

It's a while before you two are able to look at each other again without laughing, and once you can, Yunho suggests taking your chances on the food vendors you had passed coming inside. Street skewers sound like fine dining compared to the over salted yet still bland pasta in front of you, so you agree.

The chicken skewers are in fact a lot tastier. You and Yunho share your respective two before your walking down the same street as before, interlaced hands swinging between you.

Dinner was unfortunate, but the second half at least was completely out of Yunho's control. He feels better because of that and your easy going reaction to it all. In the future, he imagines you too cracking up over it again, about how the night he proposed was so far from perfect but ended as happily as ever. He can't physically smile any wider at the thought of what's to come, so he squeezes your hand in barley contained excitement.

He can no longer deny the nerves twisting in his stomach once more. The actual proposal was the one thing that could absolutely not go wrong. He couldn't picture in any way that it could - you were a few minutes walk away from the park it was meant to happen, and he could still feel the weight of the ring that he had no way of forgetting in his pocket. Surely it would be smooth sailing from here.

Yunho's steps stutter as he recognizes what sounds suspiciously like thunder rumbling overhead. He huffs a laugh, because there's no way - he must be just so on edge that he's imagining things now. The weather was the one thing he had worried about the most and planned carefully around from the beginning, constantly checking the forecast all morning just to reassure himself. It'd read as a zero percent chance for rain the whole day. No signs of a drizzle at any point this week, even.

But then the first drop falls, and Yunho swears this must be a joke. He tilts his head up as the rain starts, picking up momentum a lot quicker with every passing second. You come to the realization just as he does, shoulders rising as a surprised gasp leaves your lips.

"Let's get you inside," he says, glancing around for any kind of overhang. The closest one he sees is just up ahead, a little further into your walk and closer to the parking lot his car is in.

Determined to at least get you out of the rain before deciding his next course of action, he tugs on your arm. The rain only falls harder with every hurried step you both take, and even if your positively soaked already, Yunho tries to pull you along quickly. Belatedly taking into account how damp the sidewalk has already gotten too, until you almost entirely slip out of his hold and onto your knees on the concrete.

He manages to stop you from completely face planting, but doesn't miss your slight wince as he helps you back to your feet. Yunho decides the overhang is a lost cause and you're better off going straight to the car instead. So, with hurried but more cautious steps, he takes you straight there.

You're both equally drenched by the time he helps you into the passenger seat, and rounds the car to his driver's side. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's finally out of the frigid rain, and quickly cranks up the car to get the heat started before you get sick. He flicks on the overhead lights as he turns to check on you.

"Are you-" Yunho starts to ask, but his gaze falls onto you knee that presumably had hit the ground after your fall. The other came out unscathed, luckily, but he doesn't feel the least bit better when your left knee is scrapped enough to have small droplets of blood forming. "Oh, love, you're bleeding..."

"I'm okay," you reassure, a smile on your lips despite the angry redness of your knee. "It's just a little scratch."

Yunho still feels terrible, even as your sat on the bathroom sink while he dabs at the scrapes with feather like touches. The cotton ball in his hand hardly makes any contact with the wounds, and you can't help but laugh softly at his overly careful antics.

"I don't know if that's doing much of anything," you tease lightheartedly, hoping to ease some of the crease between his brows.

It does no such thing, "I don't want to hurt you even more."

You sigh, "Yunho, baby..." His frown is still fixated on your wounded knee, so you gently cup his chin to encourage his attention back to you. "Look at me. I'm okay, I promise."

You bring your right hand to hold the other side of his jaw, holding firm eye contact to ensure your words stick. Presumably they do, but you don't anticipate Yunho's own filling with tears in matter of seconds.

"I ruined everything," he mumbles, attempting to blink away the wetness clouding his vision. It doesn't work, and the first tear makes a pitiful trail down cheek, tugging on your heart as it goes.

"What?" You register his words, mirroring his frown. "Baby, you did nothing wrong."

Yunho stands up straight, running a hand through his damp hair as he begins to ramble, "Tonight was supposed to be perfect for you. Hyung helped me plan everything and it all seemed so nice but then absolutely everything that could've went wrong did and then I made you trip and - and I just want marry you but now you're hurt because of me and I-"

"Yun," you cut him off with a careful hand on his shoulder. "You want to marry me?"

Yunho freezes, his brain catching up to his mouth and he groans, "I really did ruin everything."

You sigh, lifting your hands back up to hold Yunho's shoulders firmly in place.

"Ask me," you simply say.

Yunho sputters for a moment, searching your expression for any hint of upset or disappointment. He doesn't know how to feel that he finds none, only the slight quirk at the end of your lips, pushing an all knowing grin.

"What?" He asks, the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks causing a painful twist in your chest. You reach up to gently dab the wetness away, directing him a warm smile.

"Do you have the ring on you?" You ask instead.

Stunned, Yunho scrambles to pat down his pockets. The one thing that hadn't gone completely wrong all night - he didn't forget the ring. He pulls the velvet black box out of his back pocket. He holds it in his hand, staring blankly at you.

"Well?" You probe, crossing your arms over your chest. "Are you going to ask me?"

Yunho blinks dumbly as he comes to understand. He feels himself wanting to cry again for an entirely different reason. Biting back his own grin, he lowers himself to one knee - not an easy feat given your compact apartment bathroom. His back foot hits the wall and he's nearly in your lap by the end of it, but you're both too giddy to care.

"My love," he starts, feeling unsure. "Tonight did not go how I envisioned. At all. But it did reaffirm everything I already knew. I've always known, and right now I believe. In us and our future, more than anything. Will you-"

"Yes," you cut him off, unable to wait another second. "Yes, Yunho, God, yes."

You throw your arms around his neck, laughing and shaking and feeling the happiest you've ever felt. Yunho laughs as well, encircling his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder.

"Can you let me finish?" He teases easily, feeling a thousand times lighter and happier himself. You nod against his shoulder and huff a laugh of your own.

"Right, sorry," you pull back with a sniffle, wiping under your wet eyes. "Please continue."

Yunho laughs, his eyes filling with tears of joy as he opens the box back between you, "Will you marry me?"

A swarm of butterflies erupt inside of you, a feeling you haven't stopped experiencing since meeting Yunho all those years ago, and you nods hurriedly, "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Yunho."

His face nearly splits in two with the grin that takes over his features. He wastes no time pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger, heart warming at the perfect fit.

It's beautiful, practically glimmering under your overhead bathroom lighting, but all you want right now is to be in Yunho's arms once more.

So you toss yourself back into his embrace, holding on like your life and mind and heart depends on it. He clutches onto you just as tightly, pressing kiss after kiss into your still damp hair.

Yunho needs to finish cleaning your knee. He also wants to make you take a shower and strip of your wet clothes before a cold really sets in and so he can proper bandage the wound after. But for now, this is all he wants. To be holding the love of his life and now fiancée at the end of a long day that, despite everything, had turned out even more perfect than he could've ever imagined.

Yunho knew he could look forward to even more bad days, so long as he always had you to come home to at the end of it all.

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