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#i really want to go downstairs and get water i just need to get the courage to do so ahhhhhhh
mychemikuromance · 10 months
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you know what having anxiety and having intrusive thoughts AND having a vivid imagination really does just cause me to torture myself with dumb shit
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Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea
AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind
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Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter
Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.
He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.
He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.
"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.
Yeah something's definitely up.
"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.
He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"
You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.
"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"
"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"
You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"
The bathtub overflows.
"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.
"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.
"Si-"
"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"
That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.
"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.
"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."
Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.
You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.
You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.
Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.
'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'
He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.
He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.
'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'
Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.
He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.
"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.
He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.
"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"
You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.
"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.
"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.
"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."
He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"
He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.
You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.
He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
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Drunk In Love
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pairing: harry potter x female reader
warnings: fluff, mentions of drinking
summary: harry got drunk and when his friend dropped him off to you, he forgot you were his girlfriend
a/n: i thought this was cute, currently watching poa while writing this
song: kiss me - sixpence none the richer
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You were lying in bed with your pajamas while reading a book. Downstairs there was a Gryffindor party in the common room, but you had a bit of a headache so you decided staying in your dorm would be better.
Your reading was interrupted when you heard knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" you call as you place the book down and stand up.
"It's Ron... and Harry!"
You go and open the door and smile at two of your favorite people.
"Hello," you smile at them.
Harry's eyes were closed as he leaned on the door frame and Ron was holding him up with on arm.
"Hi, I came to bring Harry. He had too much Firewhisky and then started to shout about how he wanted you, so I figured it was best to bring him here before he embarrasses himself more," he quickly explains.
"Classic Harry, thanks for bringing him Ron," you laugh.
Ron pulls him and places him in your arms. You thank him again, he tells you to come get him if you need anything and he goes back downstairs to the party.
"Hi Harry," you say while brushing some hair off his forehead with your fingers.
"Ah! Don't touch my hair," he says in alarm with slurred words.
"Why not," you frown.
"Only my girlfriend can do that"
"Oh really?" you grin.
"Yep," he hiccups.
You sit him down on the bed and fix his glasses that were falling down his nose, you kiss his forehead and he lets out a shriek.
"My girlfriend is going to kill me," he mumbles in horror and wipes away your kiss with his hand.
"Who is this girlfriend of yours?"
"Y/n," he sighs dreamily falling back onto the bed.
"Wanna tell me about her?"
"She's perfect. She's so sweet too, shes like- like- a rainbow of happiness"
"A rainbow of happiness?" you giggle at his words.
"Mhm, she is like- so pretty that I'm jealous, and everyone loves her. She plays with my hair, and holds my hand everywhere, and I love kissing her. Her mouth is so amazing-" Harry smiles while he thinks of you.
You started to blush at his words and he continued to ramble about the things he loves about you.
"I'm going to marry her one day," he blurts out with red cheeks.
"W-what?"
"Do you think she would marry me? Oh! I need to start planning," he stands up and stumbles to the desk to find paper.
"Woah, woah, you can plan another time, and I'm sure she would be more than happy to marry you," you tell him as you bring him back to the bed.
You go to take his shirt off to change him into his pajamas, but he tugs his shirt back down.
"Don't look!" Harry exclaims, worry clear on his face.
"Fine, if I close my eyes will you change into these clothes?"
"Yes, turn and cover your eyes. No peeking!"
"No peeking, got it," you laugh.
He changes fast and he tells you that you can look again.
"Y/n is the only person who can see me like that. Not a random girl in my room- do you think she'll be mad at me because you're here?"
"Umm- lets just get your teeth and hair brushed"
"Okay," he sighs.
You bring him to the bathroom and hand him his toothbrush and watch him struggle to keep his eyes open.
You brush his hair and when you both finish you two lay on the bed.
His eyes are falling shut as you hand him water to drink. He spills it on himself when he misses his mouth. You laugh and say a spell to dry him and the bed.
"Night, mystery person. Tell y/n I said goodnight and I love her if you see her," he whispers drifting off to sleep.
"Okay, goodnight Harry," you kiss his head.
The next morning you had so much fun teasing him about the previous night.
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ja3yun · 4 months
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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1
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brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header
‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'
The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.
With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.
You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.
While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.
You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything. 
Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.
“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.  
Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”
Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.
Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did. 
It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.
You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.
But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.
Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.
"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.
Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever. 
There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.
You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.
“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”
She was proud of you that day.
As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.” 
Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.
“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.
_____
The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.
Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.
“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”
As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.
“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”
“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off. 
“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”
The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?” 
Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.
“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”
“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.
Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.” 
“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.
There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.
“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”
Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move. 
A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.
“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?” 
Park Sunghoon. 
What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…
It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him. 
“This is MY rink, Park.”
Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.
When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.
It was always like this.
Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.
He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present. 
Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.
To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together. 
“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”
“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.
Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”
Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”
“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”
If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.
“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.” 
The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”
Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.
Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.
Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs. 
Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”
“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.
Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.
“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.
“It’s a fucking promise, Park.” 
No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line. 
With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.
His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.
While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.
Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.
“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”
“A dick?”
“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”
Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.” 
Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.
______
Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.
Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees. 
Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.
That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be. 
The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.
Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.
Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.
“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her. 
With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.
“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.
As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.
Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.
“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.” 
You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.
“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”
Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this. 
Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.
Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?” 
“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.
Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”
Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens. 
Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.” 
With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?” 
He’s flabbergasted. 
Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you?  You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.
After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”
“Say that to my 8 first places over him.”  It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates. 
Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.
You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.
________
Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.
Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.
Dear Y/N Kang,
At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.
In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.
Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.
You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.
Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.
You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."
"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."
"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.
Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.
Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.
“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”
You had no choice but to understand.
“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."
There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.
In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.
How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all. 
A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.
The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.
As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.
Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?
A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.
Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.
With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face. 
Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.
He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.
Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.
What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.
Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”
His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.
“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.
“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.
Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”
“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.
Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?
Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”
“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.
When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”
“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.
“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.
“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”
Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.
The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins. 
What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.
Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.
Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.
Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide. 
“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.
The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.
“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.
“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.
Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!” 
Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.
“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.
Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”
Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”
As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.
“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.
“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.” 
It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.
“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.
“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.” 
The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.
You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”
“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”
Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.
You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon. 
If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.
Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.
Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.
“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?
“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”
He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.
Cute.
“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.
He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.
Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”
Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”
Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.
“So what do I do?”
“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.
While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”
“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.
The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?” 
Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty. 
Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.
“Gonna need you to pump for me.”
It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.
He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”
Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy? 
You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?” 
His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.” 
Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.
The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind. 
“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.
Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.” 
It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.
“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.
The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.
Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.
“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.
“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.
Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.
Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.
This has to be your decision. Something you want.
If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?
Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”
Oh.
All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.
Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.
Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.” 
“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.
“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.
He should have just kissed you.
The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes. 
“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.
You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.
And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory. 
As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.
The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.
Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.
“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.
“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?” 
That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.
“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.” 
It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.” 
With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.
The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.
Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.
The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”
Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy. 
Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"
Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."
You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.
A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”
While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.
“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.
“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins. 
What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.
Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.
Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.
Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.
"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"
Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."
You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.
“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?” 
“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”
“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?” 
Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.” 
He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.
“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”
Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.
When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.
In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.
“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.
His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.
You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”
“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.
The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.” 
My. She could have said ‘The’.
It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you. 
“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis. 
What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise. 
“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.
“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.
It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.
“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”
Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”
Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him. 
He understands the situation earlier a little better now.
“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?” 
Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”
“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?” 
“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”
“What was the good news?”
“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”
Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?” 
“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.
“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”
You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over. 
Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you. 
One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.
Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.
“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.
“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”
“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.
“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”
What is that supposed to mean? 
“An avoider?” 
Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.” 
Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.
“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself,  “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.” 
“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.” 
You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”
“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”
“Anything at all?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”
Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.
Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?” 
Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”
“I was thinking about Minhee.”
Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.
Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”
The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”
“Yes.”
Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.
Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”
Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.
Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.
“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line. 
It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.  
Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.
“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.
Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen. 
You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.” 
Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever. 
“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.
Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression. 
“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.
“Hey, Sweets?”
“Hmm?”
Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.
The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.
He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.
Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.
At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.
Except, perhaps, one person.
Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.
However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."
No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.
Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”
You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.
“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.
“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.
Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.
Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.
“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.
“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.
"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.
Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”
“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.
He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”
“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.
Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”
It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.
Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.
You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones. 
“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest. 
You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.” 
Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.
“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.
Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.
Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.
Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”
“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.
It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this. 
“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.
He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?” 
Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.
Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?
Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.
Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."
"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.
"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time."  Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.
“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 
Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.
With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?
“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.
“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.
Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was. 
A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.
“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.
“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”
He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.
“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”
Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”
“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly. 
Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.
“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”
That prick…Park Sunghoon.
You couldn’t have it all.
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babygirl-riley · 5 months
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Hi I have a request so it’s like Simon and his wife arguing pretty badly like to the point where she’s shouting bare at him she’s on the verge of tears and while their arguing their new born cries so the reader goes upstairs to the crying baby once their baby is calm she doesn’t even go back downstairs to talk to him she just like stays in the baby room and goes on her social media to distract her self from Simon.
Hii so I have this written in my notes I always do that so I don’t forgot what I’m gonna ask and I hope this is what u meant tho cause im so slow it acc took me bare long to understand 😭
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You and Simon have been back to back arguments. Before you both could finish this one a loud cry interrupted the fight.
A/N: this is exactly what you asked for 😭 So embarrassing truly 💀 However this really tugged the heartstrings
“I want to be close to you, but I don't know what to do.'Cause if we are near to through, it may make it worse.”
Warnings: baby blues, depression, anger, arguments, fighting, yelling, screaming, baby crying, swearing, soft!simon, husband!simon, happy ending
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family
You were exhausted, you would clean, go get groceries, wake up every hour with the newborn, and everything in between. Usually you had Simon right beside you and help you with the smallest things. However, duty calls. Price promised Simon a couple months leave however, it was an emergency.
When Simon first brought it up, you knew he saw the rolling of the eyes but you brushed it off. Simon brought it up later and you just tried to push it away. Eventually it blew up. Things were said and yelled that weren’t meant to come out. Simon slept in a different room and he was gone for a couple of weeks.
You didn’t answer his calls but text him updates. It was petty but it’s a petty time. You were promised to have your husband here with both your child. Yet you are here almost falling asleep anytime it was early in the morning to feed the baby. You sat outside of the room of your baby as she bailed and bailed, being irritated and tired. Eventually you would go in sure but you were so scared that you would yell at her for being a baby.
After the couple of weeks you tried to brush it under the rug as you made Simon’s favorite dinner. Knowing he would be home. He text you stating that he will be home around 7 o clock and he was excited to see both you and the baby. 7 went to 8, 8 went to 9, 9 went to 10, 10 went to 11, and so on. The food went cold and baby was down. Especially you were tired.
You already put the food away and sat in the living room. You watched the clock before you angrily got up and started the bath. You needed to cool down. You heard the heavy footsteps heading down the hall. You rolled your eyes with the clock read 1 AM.
Simon noticed the light beaming through the room you both shared. Inhaling deeply he stepped in and rounding into the bathroom. You stood with a robe on and touching the warm water.
“S’rry ‘m late.” He said watching your movements.
“Okay.” You said not looking at him.
He frowned and shook his head. “I had a ton of paperwork and didn’t notice the time. Thought I had enough time.”
You didn’t say nothing as you went to the cabinet and pulled out your favorite salts for the bath. Simon watched as you poured them in and went back to put it away. “Y/n please.”
“Please what Simon? You were late. You weren’t here. Shit happens right? Emergencies happen. It’s whatever at this point.” You scoffed as you finally looked at him.
Simon noticed the anger in your eyes. He was upset that he left without resolving the last fight. He was upset that when he called you didn’t want to talk. He was upset he wasn’t home when he was supposed to be and not seeing his babygirl. He also noticed you are tired. Exhausted even. The bags. The purple shade underneath your eyes. “It’s my job you knew that when you signed up for it.”
You laughed and shook your head. “You don’t think I know that? Don’t you dare throw that in my face Simon. We were promised a break for our child yet he drags you back and you are willing to without a second glance.”
“Really? It goes back to me not carin’ about our family huh? That’s what you said before I left. You think I care more about my job than us.”
“Yes! Yes I do! I think that you are stuck in a loop without anyone but you! You are fine with just going instead of being here!” You yelled starting to walk out and brushing passed Simon.
“It’s my job! I have to go! I can’t leave my team behind!” He yelled back following you.
You scoffed as you ripped your robe off, ripping open your drawers. “Right but you can do it to us.” You mumbled pulling out sweats and a t-shirt.
“What’s that supp’se to mean?” He basically growled.
You snapped up and looked at him. “Ever since Millie was born it was like you have been gone. You will help yes but how long did that last before you skipped your happy ass to Price,” You yelled pulling the sweats up as you felt a sting of tears coming. You laughed as you heard nothing from him. “I have been doing this by myself with no help! Nothing Simon!”
“That’s not fair! How many times do I have to say it’s my fuckin’ job…”
“You have a job here!” You screamed as tears started to spill and right before anyone could say anything a wail broke through the air.
You both stood there for a minute before you raked your fingers through your hair. You wiped your eyes angrily. “Damn it,” You pulled your shirt on before walking out, grabbing your phone on the dresser. “I am sleeping in the other room.” You slammed the door shut before walking to the baby’s room.
You opened it as Millie screamed louder. You cried as you walked closer that turns to a sob. You didn’t know what to do. How to do it. You don’t know how to keep her asleep and fed and changed without being upset. You gripped the crib hard as you couldn’t move. You were tired and your baby needs you. “I’m sorry,” You cried as you picked her up and shushed her softly. “I know I know.”
You sat in the rocking chair as you let your baby fed. You scrolled on social media seeing all the happy couples. All what they are doing. All your friends looking like they don’t have problems. You missed Simon, not like he changed, just his touch, he soft voice when he whispers I love you. You missed his laugh when you both would have that marriage banter. You missed his tea.
You are afraid that maybe having a kid was a bad idea. That it ruined or tainted everything. You looked at your baby and inhaled. How could you think like that? What has she done to make you feel that way? It seemed like anytime Simon was around you were angry. Small arguments that turned into this. Your lip trembled and you held your baby closer to your chest. Tears prickling your eyes.
You threw your phone on the ground and sobbed. You were a monster. How could a mother think like that? Why would a wife yell at her husband for doing his job? You kept thinking about all the bad things that happened or been thought of that you didn’t notice that your baby was being scooped up.
When the cold air touched your skin, you opened your eyes panicked. You thought you dropped her as you looked down with tears blinding you before you felt a hand on your cheek. You snapped your eyes to see Simon, holding your baby girl close to his chest as she was asleep. “Baby,” He whispered concerned on his face. He was kneeling as he wiped tears after tears. “Come on let me put her to bed and let’s go talk please.”
“No,” You mumbled as you stood up. “I got her.”
Simon stood up and shook his head. “Please, you look tired.”
“I-I no she needs me.” You whispered but made no move to grab her.
“She has me too,” He said quietly. “Go to the kitchen please.”
You stared for a moment and looked at your baby. How small she was compared to him. How secure she looks when he was holding her. You nodded as you wiped more of the tears away. “Okay.”
Guilt pinged your chest as you glanced once to see him bouncing a bit as he slowly put her down. You walked into the kitchen and sat at the island as quiet tears slipped. You are tired you felt your body relax and felt heavy. “Baby,” You snapped your head up and saw Simon holding a kettle. “Do you want tea?”
You nodded once and looked away. It was quiet as he face the kettle waiting for it to go off. “I’m still mad at you.” You mumbled.
Simon nodded as he turned to lean against the counter. “Why is that?”
You rolled your eyes. “Simon you know why.”
Simon walked up and leaned his elbows on the counter. “Y/n I’m not doin’ it to hurt you two.”
You froze for a moment before looking away. Thoughts of how it could be different with him not having the damn job. However, he was right he wasn’t doing it to hurt you. “I told Price to call someone else but…he needed me for what I know.” You slowly looked at him as Simon looked the other direction. “I fought the old man about it for days. I didn’ say nothin’ cause I knew you would be upset. I didn’t notice that I was pushing you and our princess away. Just-just tried to figure out how to get out of it…I’m sorry.”
Now you felt even more bad. He tried to fight not to go and fought for the two of you. You inhaled but don’t exhaled afraid of sobbing once more. The moment Simon looked at you, you sobbed and hid your face with your hands. “I didn’t-I’m so sorry Simon.”
Simon walked around and shook his head as he turned the chair to gently pull you on for a hug. “Baby I should have said something and not fought it alone.”
You sobbed and sobbed as everything came down. “I’m so tired Si. I am tired of being awake so damn early. I am tired of cooking. I am tired of not being able to do anything. I am tired of fighting with you. I am sorry Simon. I should have been m-more understanding. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to marry such a bitch. I have been so ru…”
He gently pushed you off to grab your wrists to show your face. Simon smiled softly before grabbing your chin with his thumb and finger. “I know. I know. You been overwhelmed with so much. We will figure it out yeah? It’s okay, we are fine. I married you for you even when it’s rocky. It won’t always be perfect.”
You calmed down a bit as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”
The kettle goes off as Simon kissed your forehead to walk over. You sat still as Simon came around. “I will be here right now, try my best to help you my love.”
You looked up and saw him, his eyes glowing with love. You inhaled and nodded as he pulled you back into his chest. You snuggled in and felt warmth throughout your body. God no one deserves Simon Riley.
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
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so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!
can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?
Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang
(sorry if this is long I got excited)
please and thanks
Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!
Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader
Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley
Warnings: innuendos
“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.
He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.
“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.
“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.
“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.
You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.
Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.
“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.
“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.
“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.
“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.
“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.
“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”
“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.
“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.
“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.
Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.
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𝔉𝔞𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫
Hello dears! Here is the fourth part of my “of the season” series(?)!
Pairing: Alastor x Fem doe!reader
Summary: The two deers finally welcome their baby
Warning: childbirth, nursing, mentions of smut, pregnancy, a whole lotta fluff:)
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Alastor knew one thing for sure, he couldn’t wait to meet his little fawn. To hold it in his arms, protect it. His paternal instinct went into overdrive. He suddenly remembered the way Y/N acted when she was in heat, her body being tricked into thinking that a fawn needed a mother, that a fawn needed her. The way her body was singing to him, the way she made her nest bigger at the thought of him. The way she had a bit more meat on her, he could never forget the softness of his doe. Only now… it wasn’t a trick, she really was expecting. And he had to make sure that everything went perfectly. However, as the days went by, his urges became stronger and more powerful, that only meant one thing… The fawn was due any day. And that day came soon enough…
The deers were fast asleep in their bed, limbs tangled together, but Y/N woke up to an uncomfortable sensation. She felt pressure inside of her, not necessarily painfully, but it was not comforting either. She knew it was time, she had been sensing it for a while. Her now big bump dropped a bit, her womb lowering itself so their baby has an easier time getting out. She also sensed it on herself and Alastor. Her mind constantly chanting to her. Bigger nest, bigger nest, more room for fawn, more room for fawn, fawn fawn fawn. She could barely contain her laugh when she noticed Alastor mirroring her behavior. He was as restless as her, and he spent many hours with her in their nest, their bodies just needing to bask in each other’s comforting scent and touch.
“Alastor? Darling?!” She shook him awake, she couldn’t possibly go back to sleep now.
He was instantly alert and barely sitting upright in bed, with a huge palm over her belly in protectiveness. “It’s time isn’t it?” His instincts immediately realized what was going on. “Should I call Rosie?” He already reached for the wired telephone beside them, but his mate stopped him.
“Let’s wait until we’re sure I’m in labor. It could be a false one.” She said in a soft tone, but they both knew this was the real deal. It was still best to wait a bit though, in the past two weeks, they had multiple times when they thought their baby wanted it’s arrival, but it was not it.
“You’re right, doe.” She laid on her back and his hands were already fluffing her back into the sheets and pillows. “Stay here and attempt to rest while I make you some tea.” He planted a kiss on her lips and belly before walking downstairs to make the tea. He could think while the water was heating up in the kettle. He didn’t only just wait for her to give birth so he could hold his fawn, but so she could be comfortable as before. He knew she adored being pregnant, she loved that she could protect her baby in her own womb, she was growing it and keeping it warm. But with pregnancy, came pain. It was no secret that her belly was huge, a bit bigger than usual, Rosie was the one drawing attention to it, when the deers were over for tea.
“My, my, darling.” She put her manicured palm on her swollen belly. “Well, won’t we have a blast getting this babe out! It will be a meaty one!” Y/N looked at Rosie with wide eyes.
“But there won’t be any complications, right?” She grabbed Alastor’s hand in a panic.
“There shouldn’t be any. I mean… Alastor is a tall gentleman, ain’t he, and maybe the baby will be as big as the daddy? And you are at the very end of your pregnancy.” Rosie patted his shoulder.
Alastor kissed his mate’s neck, where he bit her, and spoke in a calming tone. “Don't worry your pretty head about it, all will be well.”
He was pouring the water when he heard her shriek and a call of his name. The worst possible scenarios came to his mind, but he was somewhat relieved when he found her in their bed. At first he didn’t see the issue, until he saw the big wet spot under her, the soaked sheets. His smile crept upwards, just like her own did. She just leaned to the side and picked up the phone, calling Rosie.
Alastor needed a second before he got down to helping her. While she was on the phone, he got out warm towels and warm water to bring into the guestroom. He fluffed the bed as much as he could before going back to the bedroom. The sight waiting for him made his heart tighten, Y/N was struggling to get out of the bed because of the size of her belly. He immediately rushed to her rescue. “There, there, doe.” He got her up on her two feet and looked down between them, he only saw the belly obviously, but not for long. He got her a towel and wiped away the fluid of her womb on her skin, then helped her change into a nightgown. He sat her down into the armchair so he could quickly change their soaked bedding.
“I can help, you know.” She said from the armchair with a toothy grin.
“Ha! No.”
“I want to, and I will he—“ she suddenly felt a caress on her tummy, his shadow. It made her sit back down, enjoying the cool stroking on her warm skin. She was unaware of the shit eating grin on Alastor’s face. She was his mate, he always knew what she needed, which was perfect in her pregnant state. Her hormones made her hot always, loose dresses were completely overtaking her closet. And Alastor always made sure that they had a shit ton of ice at home.
When the bed was clean, he picked her up again and brought her to the guest room, gently putting her down on the bed. He made sure everything was in place before kneeling next to the bed beside her, taking some time to say goodbye to the bump.
He caressed and kissed her skin. “I can’t wait to meet you, my litt—“ He noticed her face screwing up and her whole body tensing. “What is it?!” He went into panic mode immediately.
“I-I think it’s the contractions. I had a few before, but they weren’t s— OW!” As if on cue, Rosie stormed into the room. Of course, looking perfect and fabulous as always.
“I see Mama is getting contractions.” She put her bags down that contained every supply that would be needed for delivering. The back of her hand came up to stroke Y/N’s forehead, an attempt to calm her down. Rosie went in front of the bed and flipped Y/N’s dress up, to see where they were. She checked her and began giggling. “Oh, my! The baby isn’t really wasting any time, I believe we can begin. Darling, I need you to spread your legs as wide as you can.”
Alastor’s ears were twitching, this was it. “What can I do to help?!” He was restless, he needed to help his mate.
“Get behind her and hold her legs!” The cannibal woman instructed. And of course, he complied.
He took off his shirt and got behind Y/N, he knew that the feeling of his skin on hers would calm her down.
Her skin nearly burned his, but she just gave him a smile and laid the back of her head on his shoulder.
“Rosie, is she supposed to be this warm?” He was stressing, like… really stressing.
“Hmm, let’s try taking this nightgown off, okay, dear?” Y/N nodded her head eagerly, desperate for anything to cool her down.
Alastor gently peeled her dress off and held her legs back. He was truly amazed how his doe’s body fought to birth their baby. How her legs naturally bowed for easier delivery. He felt her body tense and her delicate hand tightened on his arms. She started pushing with all of her might.
“Just push whenever you feel the need to.” Rosie’s fingers started pressing down on her lower tummy and womb, checking the baby’s position. “Okay, lovely, the baby is in the right position.”
She was whimpering in his arms, tears were flowing down her cheeks. It broke his heart, seeing her in such pain and knowing that he was the one who put her in this position. But he also knew that in a matter of minutes, they would have their own fawn to hold. He kissed her and embraced her from behind. “It hurts so much, Alastor…”
“My love, it will be over soon. Soon, you will hold your little baby in your arms, our little baby. You are so strong, I know you can do it.” That urged her to push harder.
“Good, good. I can see the head!” Rosie reached in to help the baby’s shoulder out. A thing about hellborn babies, they are beautiful and different from human newborns.
Seconds later, het body tensed for the final time and she let out a huff of relief. Then there was silence, until a little cry was heard. Moments later, Rosie put the wailing baby on Y/N’s naked chest, and she gently enveloped the baby in her arms, with eyes full of tears.
“Oh, my baby!” Alastor reached forward and checked the baby. “Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes.”
“Congratulations, my deers! You’re parents to a beautiful baby boy!” Rosie spoke, while bringing the water and tower to clean the baby and Y/N.
The baby was gorgeous, looking exactly like Alastor. Dark red fur, big red eyes, but there were certain elements from his mama. While he had Alastor’s eyes, they were framed by his mama’s doe eyes.
He was clean and bundled up, resting in the embrace of his parents. “Let me get some water and something sugary!” Said Rosie before leaving the room.
“What are we naming this little one?” Asked Alastor, his eyes were warm and full of love towards his baby.
“He looks like a little gentleman, so something elegant. How about… Vincent Hartfelt?” It fit their baby perfectly, so they stuck with it.
After Rosie came back and Y/N gulped down the water, they were talking in more detail about the healing process. Alastor didn’t hear a word, he was busy cradling the tiny fawn to his chest, letting his tiny cheek nuzzle into his father’s fur.
“You might bleed for a bit, so baby Vincent won’t be the only one with diapers.” Rosie joked. “And if you feel sore, a hot bath always helps. And—“
Both Rosie and Alastor snapped their heads towards Y/N when they heard a weak whimper from her. She was gripping the sheets again, her body tensed up completely. “Probably just your body recovering from birth, darling.”
But in the next few minutes, while Alastor was putting the baby into the crib, Y/N started pushing more frequently, until she spoke with a panicked voice. “Something is happening!” She said between her clenched teeth, body shivering from the intense pain.
The cannibal woman wasted no time to get between her legs again. “OH SHIT! The other fawn is coming.”
“The other what?” The deers said in unison.
“No time for chit-chat, I see the head!” The doe pushed with all of her remaining strength, and a wet sound indicated that their other fawn was out, followed by a sweet cry.
Y/N once again embraced the baby, the mates blinked at it, still surprised from the dramatic entrance. Moments later, the shock turned into joy. Rosie delivered the placenta, her body indicating that there were no more fawns coming.
A quick clean up by Rosie and the second little bundle was wrapped up too.
“A healthy girl!” Both of them kissed around the baby doe’s tiny face, which was followed by a sleepy coo. She was gorgeous, and a perfect clone of Y/N. She also had her father’s colors and red dark eyes.
“What a beauty… She looks just like her Mama, I always knew your beauty will bless hell even more so.” Said Alastor, who was trying hard not to tear up, Y/N hadn’t even bothered minding the happy tears running down her cheeks.
“We each got our little clones, Vincent will grow into the most handsome gentleman in hell!” The need to hold her other baby consumed her. You really thought the motherly instinct would settle? They are just getting started. “By the way, what would you like to name this little one?” the doe asked, looking at Alastor with big tearful eyes.
“Heidi. Heidi Hartfelt.” He just knew that as he was looking down at his child.
“It’s perfect.” Y/N nuzzled the side of her face to her mate’s cheeks. “I love you, and I love our babies. Forever, and ever.”
“Oh, my darling. I love you more than words can say, my love for you and the fawns go beyond everything and anything. I would die for you a million times more.” He kissed her deeply, both of their tails wiggling in excitement.
While Rosie held the baby girl, Alastor carried his doe back into their bedroom. Once she was in bed, under the sheets with her back leaning against the many feathery pillows, Alastor came up beside her with Vincent in his arms and Rosie handed Heidi to Y/N.
Rosie stayed for a little bit, in case any after birth effect happened to Y/N that would need to be tended to. She was sitting in the armchair beside the bed, sipping some tea. “I cannot say I’m surprised. The twins explain the huge belly, I should have known. But look at that size difference!” She was onto something, Vincent was much bigger than Heidi. “And, proper deers have twins most of the time, I didn’t think that was also true for deer sinners.”
“I am overfilled with joy that Heidi decided to come along.” Alastor said proudly.
After Rosie shared and wrote down some tips and stuff for them, she left, but not before giving both the babies and their mama a kiss on the forehead.
“So then there were two…” Y/N said out of nowhere, admiring the little fawns she gave life to.
“Then there were two.” Said her mate, also lost in the love he felt. “My darling, I could never thank you enough for giving us two beautiful babies. I could never thank you enough for letting me take care of you, and welcoming me inside of you, both body and soul. I promise you, there will never be a second when I won’t protect you, care for you and cherish you.”
“I know. I am so proud to call you my mate, and I know I am the happiest I can be. Because of you, and these little ones.”
As if on cue, Vincent woke up and started fussing around restlessly in Alastor’s arm, he weeped quietly. Which of course, caused his sister to wake up too, but she shrieked with all of her might. Y/N’s instincts instantly knew what was going on, her fawns were hungry. “Hold her for a second?” She passed Heidi to Alastor to remove the top of her nightgown. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the milk already dripping from her nipples. He gave her Vincent and he managed to latch on easily, however Heidi was putting up quite the fight.
“Oh, little darling… If you would stop screaming for a second, you could see that Mama is trying to feed you.” Alastor chuckled, he gently got a hold on the back of her head, and with the other hand, he guided his mate’s nipple into the wailing mouth. And from the on, the only thing that was heard in the room was the eager suckling. Y/N leant her head back, while holding and nursing two babies at once.
“You just feed, my loves, you must be so hungry and tired. You spent so much time growing this beautiful in my tummy…”
Alastor thought he might burst with pride, his doe was so very clever. His chin was resting on her shoulder, his eyes were relaxed, and his fingers were constantly stroking a fuzzy little head. He suddenly noticed with a chuckle that Vincent had a drop of milk running down his chin, so he reached down and wiped it away, only to put his finger into his own mouth and tasting the sweetness on it. “I must say I am quite jealous.”
Y/N giggled and whispered into his ear in a seductive voice. “Plenty more from where that came from, as soon as I heal, mommy and daddy can have their own feeding.” She pressed a kiss beside his lips, that had a love dazed grin on them. “Oh, would you look at that!” Both babies were asleep, each having a nipple hanging out of their mouths, completely milk drunk.
They couldn’t let them sleep without burping them, so their little stomach wouldn’t get upset from the excess air. The buck was about to get up to put the babies into the nursery, when Y/N spoke, still snuggling both babies into her arms. “Can you please bring the crib beside our bed? Please, I cannot bear to be away from them.” She said, using her doe eyes.
His eyes softened even more, his mate’s wishes were his commands.
With a snap of his fingers, two bassinets appeared in front of their bed. “Good night, my tiny fawns.” Y/N pressed one more kiss to the foreheads before handing them to Alastor. Once they were bundled up and fast asleep, he leaned into the bassinets and planted kisses on each faces.
He fluffed himself beside his love and she nuzzled herself into him with a purr. “Rest up now, my love. You did so amazing, but you need to let your body rest.”
“I know.” She mumbled, half asleep and snuggled into him completely.
He couldn’t help falling asleep with a big smile on his face. No one in hell beside his little family knew that the Radio Demon never felt happier.
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“Lyra, it’s impossible that Y/N was unaware that she was having twins!”
Hold my beer.
Jokes aside, I hope you liked it! And I want to say that the support I got for these series really means a lot to me, so thank you<3
taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o @kimmis-stuff @qu1cks1lversb1tch @chibistar45 @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @lillylovesalastorsm1
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verstappen-cult · 1 month
Text
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.
SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.
GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple. 
He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him. 
Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing. 
“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy. 
He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration. 
Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger. 
He does not wear rings. 
“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears. 
“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up. 
“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?” 
There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.
And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it. 
“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?
They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads. 
“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat. 
“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles. 
“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”
Max groans, falling back onto the bed. 
“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”
“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night. 
They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen. 
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By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night. 
They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.
However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on. 
“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”
“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”
“What do you need to talk to him about?” 
“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry. 
“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation. 
“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”
And then, they say at the same time:
“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”
“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”
Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.
“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.
Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening. 
“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”
“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion. 
“Oh, but I know.”
They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces. 
You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen. 
“You got married.”
There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces. 
You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing. 
You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone. 
“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”
Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away. 
“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.
“Say hi to Y/N!” 
“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk. 
“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”
The video ends with all of them laughing. 
There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks. 
“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”
“What!?” Max looks mortified. 
“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”
“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”
“No we’re not!” 
Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.” 
Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!” 
You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh. 
“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”
Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night. 
“You’re not… mad?” 
“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.” 
“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips. 
“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”
Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!” 
“You should’ve tried harder!”
“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!” 
“Max!” Charles says, offended. 
“I won’t do that.”
You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”
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Text
Sneaking Around
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek
Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.
“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.
You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.
“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.
“Was it about me?”
“When is it never about you?”
“Tell me what it was about.”
You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.
“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”
“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.
“It was weird,” you giggle.
“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”
“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”
It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.
You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.
“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”
“I’d like that,” you grin.
You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.
Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.
“Reid! You here?”
“Shit,” you gasp.
You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.
“Why is Y/N’s car here?”
“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”
Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.
“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”
“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.
“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.
“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”
Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.
“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”
“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”
“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.
“Maybe next time.”
“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”
“Sure thing.”
The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.
“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”
“We gotta tell him soon.”
“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.
Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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livwritesstuff · 2 months
Text
you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.
Eddie had a tough day.
It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.
But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.
None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.
All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.
He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.
It’s fine.
He can wait until four.
The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.
And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.
It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.
Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.
He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.
It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.
“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.
Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”
Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.
It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.
“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.
“Just tired,” he answers.
Steve pulls away.
“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”
Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.
In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.
He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…
“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.
“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”
Eddie blinks.
Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.
“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”
“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”
And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.
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diremoone · 7 months
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tlc, baby | g. satoru
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w — periods, mentions of severe cramps, concerned bf ‘toru who doesn’t like seeing his gf in pain, an author who wanted toji to win the poll but is gonna do all the boys anyway bc toji, and the fact that this is too short and crummy omg (don’t write while hungry haha), hopefully toji’s is longer and better :D
[ divider cred @/firefly-graphics ]
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5:14 am
The wake up is sudden, abrupt and extremely painful. You know what’s going on, but the second you try and do something about it, you find yourself sinking to the floor beside the bed in misery.
You really don’t want to walk downstairs, that’s gonna be misery. But if you don’t get and remedy this soon, you fear it’s just going to become worse.
It also sucks because your boyfriend isn’t home. You’d really, really like him to be home. But he isn’t. He’s out looking for an elusive Special Grade curse that nearly took out Mei Mei a few weeks ago on behalf of the stupid elders.
You’d curse them more if you didn’t feel like shit.
You burrow your head into the mattress and focus. Gathering up a little bit of energy, you stand and make your way to the kitchen, only to end up sitting down by the cabinets. You groan, knees up close to your chest to try and relieve some of the pain. You’re tempted to bang your head into the cabinets a few times, but the rationality of not adding more pain to the mix won over.
You can barely think straight; one second there’s the thought of running a bath and the next it’s waves of pain. You think about what’s in the fridge, then you’re overwhelmed by the intense need to barf.
“Fuck,” you mutter.
And then a loud voice echoes through the large home from your bedroom.
“Baaaaaabbbeeee!”
You snicker at your boyfriend who teleported into the bedroom that doesn’t have you in it. You hide your laughter behind your hand until another wave of agony rolls over your uterus and up your spine.
Satoru eventually finds you in the kitchen (after looking in the bathroom and under the bed). His smile disappears the second he sees you, but you don’t take notice since your forehead is burrowed into the wood of the cabinet door. He frowns, not liking the expression on your face.
“Baby?”
Satoru crouches and lowers the black mask you’d gotten him for his birthday. His heavenly blue eyes flicker up and down with worry.
“Monthly,” you manage to get out, and he instantly knows what you mean. Your entire body shakes with a shudder, so much so that the giant man is easily lifting you onto his lap to cuddle, his back now the one that presses against the wall of the kitchen.
Satoru is a heater, nothing short of the furnace that you’ve been in need of. One large, hot hand is pressed against your back, the other tucked against your lower abdomen in just the right spot. And the relief you feel makes you literally dizzy.
Your massive boyfriend however, is even more concerned than ever. The amount of stress he’d felt release from your body was nothing short of insane to him. You’d always relax and let go of all your stress in his hold, yes, but the amount of tension to how limp you were in his big arms was borderline upsetting.
You’ve never been this tense, this stressed. How long had you been like this before he was home?
“I’ll be okay,” you speak to him breathlessly. “I just need something for the pain and something to eat.”
Satoru lists off some things in the pantry and fridge, all of which makes your stomach turn and just burrow your head into his shoulder more. It isn’t until he gets to the sweeter side of the food you do have does the nausea fade away.
He reluctantly pulls away and grabs a familiar looking container on top of the fridge with a mischievous smile, one of his hands still holding yours as he stretches his massive 6’3 body across the kitchen to nab the period painkillers you need.
You don’t see him shove them and a small water bottle in his pocket, but you see him wrap his giant hand around the white container right before he fucking lifts you up off of the counter with one fucking arm and carries you back to bed.
But you don’t complain. You’re way too lethargic and fatigued. And why would you anyway?
He places you back on your side of the bed and gently plops the white container on your lap before kicking off his shoes and whips off his jacket so dramatically that you laugh. You scream as he jumps on the bed, almost on top of you. Satoru does nothing but laugh like a lunatic in return while he turns on the TV across from the bed.
Like magnets, you two end up snuggled deep into the big, thick pillows your boyfriend has propped up behind you in an instant. One of his arms is wrapped around you as you nestle into his side. But the fun doesn’t last. Your brows furrow as another wave of searing pain washes over you from your uterus. You groan and dip your nose into his collar, sharply inhaling and shakily exhaling.
“Here’s the magic pills, baby. Take ‘em.” Satoru’s voice is not the same, high-pitched excitable one he normally has. It’s the deep voice, the one he uses when he’s diving into his emotions. It’s the voice that he uses when he’s sharing his love with you in bed, or when he’s simply just loving you and taking care of you. Just like he is now. The tone of his voice is calming, relaxing, reassuring; all of the above makes your brain go fuzzy.
You pop the pill-shaped-relief in and chug it down with water and ‘toru wraps his arm around you, tugging you to him sweetly. He pops open the large white container, revealing all the chocolate chip cookies inside of it.
You laugh. “Oh my god, Satoru! This is what this is?”
“What else could it possibly be?” he jokes.
Not even a few minutes later though, the agony returns. The tearing feeling from your uterus is almost too much, lasting almost all the way through the Disney castle intro and the first couple minutes of Big Hero 6 with your head tucked into your boyfriend’s collar.
Satoru presses a kiss to your head and puts his hands in the same spots from earlier, with just as much tension leaving your body. He exhales silently.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells you. “It’s not worth it.”
“Want to…” you mumble, then let out a heavy sigh as heavy cramps roll over you again. “You’ve been gone a week.” You aim for a cookie and eat it in two bites.
Just like the cookies, you’re sweet — too sweet and too good for him, and he swears by it. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and replies, “Spend time with me by getting some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll take care of you tomorrow, too. Whatever my girl wants.”
“…. Sure?”
“Positive.”
“…..Mmmmm’kay.”
Satoru knows you’re still awake and working through the pain even half an hour later. You may not be watching the movie, but you’re still listening, giggling when Fred screams, “CAR!” to Wasabi as the villain tries to kill them.
It’s not too long after that though, he feels your cursed energy finally relax. Your body is clearly slack against his own. He chuckles at feeling a little bit of drool soak through his shirt. You’re in a deep sleep, thank goodness. And he hopes it stays that way. The medicine worked. He wasn’t sure if his eyes could take the sight of your cursed energy bearing that much sufferance much longer before cracking himself.
Satoru closes his own heavenly blue eyes to sleep. Yeah, he’ll definitely be here tomorrow. Taking care of his woman was going to be his first priority. Mission be damned.
”G’night sweets. See you in the morning.”
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@vagabond-umlaut — @heresan — @dellalyra — @torusmochi — @nayrring — @out-of-reach22
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I know you've written something similar with Bucky hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child buy what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Rayleigh got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child
hii!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay (about the hearing heartbeats as don’t think he can do that) but I love the idea!! other fic is HERE. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
FIVE WEEKS SINCE.
bucky barnes x fem!reader — fluff/ angst?
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word count. 957
Over a month ago, you and Bucky made the mistake of sharing a hotel room, and it consequentially led to the pair of you indulging in those romantic feelings you knew you always had for each other. At the time, it felt far from a misstep, but the awkwardness that followed made it all feel like a huge mistake. 
A following three weeks later —two weeks ago— you found out some life-altering information - discovering that you were pregnant. You knew that it was the work of you and Bucky during that night, but you couldn't bring yourself to share the news. Recently, he's acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt completely isolated as you wallowed in the feeling by yourself.
During those weeks of uncertainty, you confided in Natasha, essentially using her for support until you worked up enough courage to tell Bucky. She was far more helpful than she gave herself credit for, and slowly but surely, you started to get there in terms of bravery.
You were all currently spending the night at a safe house, sleeping over to resume your mission the next day. Everyone grouped off to share rooms.
It was late, all but you sure to be fast asleep. But you couldn't drift off, something undecided going on with your body - you couldn't figure out what it needed; was it food, water? Something to steady the nauseous feeling in your gut? You weren't sure, so you decided to head down to the kitchen, creeping out of the room quietly, trying not to wake Nat.
As you make your way downstairs, you see the silhouette of someone in the fridge, their back dark - the outline of them lit up by the yellow-white light. You wanted to turn around, not wanting to talk in your moody, tired state, but it was too late. The creak of the last few steps alerting them of your presence.
It was Bucky. And the look on his face was just as uncomfortable as yours.
"I'm just about to go," he murmurs, avoiding you, turning his attention to the open cupboard of glasses.
You roll your neck, working out the kink as you step into the kitchen - it wasn't small, but the space was far too tight for two people who couldn't bear to be in the same room. "No, it's fine. I was just getting a drink," you shrug, standing off to the side of him as you wait to collect a glass. 
Instead, he turns to you, handing you one. "Juice is on the counter," he nods, gesturing to the island behind.
"Thanks," you smile reasonably, uncapping the bottle and pouring yourself a glass. But when Bucky steps over, you hand him yours, taking his to fill for yourself. 
He takes a quick swig and thanks you, looking around the room awkwardly.
"Do you know where the cookies are?" you ask, trying to ease the tension.
He nods softly and reaches into another cupboard, pulling out a pack of cookies. He opens the packet and hands it to you, acting courteous.
"Thank you," you smile sweetly, offering him the first one. 
With a soft shake of his head, he declines.
"Can't sleep?" you ask. 
"No. You?"
"No."
And as he begins to step back, you decide to speak up - not wanting him to leave just yet. "Hey, uhm," you pause, fiddling with the cookie wrapper. "We haven't really spoken... how you been?" 
"Uh, doing good," he nods faintly, clearly holding back. "Have you— are you good?" 
You nod, also holding back. 
"Good," he nods, lips in a forced straight line. Feet turning away, itching to leave the room.
"James," you hesitated, clutching at straws - desperate to keep him around just a little longer.
His movement halts, and he twists back to face you. The simple call of his real name brings back memories of the two of you before all the awkwardness. 
"I'm..." you inhale sharply, thinking of the words. "I need to tell you something, and I—" you shake your head, stilling your wavering voice. 
He takes a small step closer, leaving a comfortable distance between you. "Tell me what?" he asks, the desperation clear in his eyes - his body language growing anxious.
"A couple weeks ago... I found out I'm pregnant," you whisper, momentarily closing your eyes - cowering away. "And I don't know what to do," you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. "It's a lot... and I didn't know how to tell you, but you should know."
The silence is deafening. Bucky's being far too quiet, and it makes you feel sick. You finally meet his gaze and watch the contrasting emotions play out on his face - he's clearly trying to process it all. 
"I know the timing isn't great, and things aren't good with us," you try to be mature, attempting to patch things over. "It was a shock for me too, but I just..." you sigh, waiting for him to say something. "I don't expect anything from you, it's okay. I get it."
He nods, seeming to have collected himself. "Let's talk everything over, okay? Talk it all through, clear the air," he offers with a half smile, closing the gap with another step forward. 
"Now?" you ask, thrown off by his sudden cooperation and interest. 
"Yeah, we'll sit on the back porch," he nods through the kitchen window, gesturing to the deck chairs. "You tell me everything, I'll tell you everything. We'll sort this out."
You're pleased with the progress you're making, and your forced smile turns into a real one - the first real one he's seen of yours in a while. "Yeah. I'd like that."
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I spent way too long trying to understand the pregnancy time frame of conception and implantation😭😭
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xxzlushiez · 1 year
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Behind closed doors
T. Kaulitz x GN! Reader
Synopsis: Tom kepts trying to make you jealous by bringing girls over when your sleeping in his bed, but it doesn’t seem to bother you and you decide to show him who really holds his heart
Notes: 18+😦, Tom and Name aren’t dating but he likes them, Name is sly , underlying whiny Tom, he’s on a date w/ a girl💀, Name has no shame, humiliation, nakedness(??), Name has sex w/ a girl, so many positions, tom’s high sex drive, choking kink(ish?), Names feelings for Tom aren’t stated but you can assume how they feel😭
“Ночь, ты моя, и ты алкоголичка Ass, HD, VR” - Мишка: Poshlaya Molly, KATERINA
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- When he told you he’d be going on a date with a girl he wanted you to be upset, jealous, envious, something
- but you just shrugged and told him to “package it before using”
- it was annoying to fuck someone and not have them immediately love you like they usually do but you loving them instead
- which is exactly what happened with him
- you always walked around his apartment w barely anything on, went grocery shopping w/ him and even helped him pick out the color of his new curtains for the lounge room
- he thought you would’ve had at least a small crush on him after being fuck buddies for more than 2 months
- but it seemed like you didn’t
- “where’s it at?”
- “here, so don’t come out of our room until she’s gone”
- you knew that’s not what he cared to say, you also knew he wanted you to come out while the girl was over
- you waved him off saying you “wouldn’t bother his little date” and walked off to the kitchen
- pissed him off when he always seemed to get no reaction out of you
- When it was in the late evening he heard a knock on the door
- rushing down the stairs but saw you had already opened the door
- “hm..who are you, do you need something?”
- you felt a body press against your exposed skin and knew he was behind you probably pissed off to
- felt you push against his front with your ass
- “Valerie….come in sorry about that”
- you both moved out of the way and you pretended to not noticed the way her eyes raked up and down your exposed skin
- you bid the girl farewell and told him to have fun before making your way up the stairs
- “who was that?”
- “a friend don’t worry about it”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*༓༝̩̩̥͙˚*˚*·̩̩̥͙
- throughout the date you had come down multiple times
- still with basically nothing on
- accidentally slammed his knee into the top of the table when you bent over to grab something from a cabinet
- so many provocative actions but every time you looked his way it was to look at the girl
- noticed how his date kept shifting in her seat and readjusted her skirt
- ‘are they fucking serious right now’
- wasn’t even in the mood to fuck her and just sent the girl home after their dinner
- went to sleep in one of the guest rooms bc he was so pissed that his plan to get laid that night didn’t work
- woke up to noises coming from his bedroom
- barged in to see you fucking someone
- when his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed it was with his date
-“what the fuck…”
- worst part was when you saw him in the doorway and smiled while moaning his name when the girl was kissing you and how embarrassingly hard it made him.
- slammed the door shut when he saw you start going down on the girl
- went to make a drink bc he was so shocked
- he knew it was just to spite him and that he shouldn’t get so worked up but you were literally in his bed that he fucks you in having sex with a girl he just had a date with
- maybe this was karma for always trying to make you jealous so much
- now he was the one jealous
- was still downstairs when you walked the girl to the door giving her a peck on the cheek before sending her off
- all still being naked💀
- no embarrassment whatsoever
- “what’s your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem I’m actually pretty content as of right now thanks for asking”
- smug asl bc you know what you did
- watched you lean down to get a water bottle out of the fridge and drink some
- got up from his spot and took you by the arm to the living room
- “I’ll make you feel a lot better than she did”
- “oh….I don’t know she was pretty good if I’m being honest”
- “I’m better I’ll always be better”
- lots of simple foreplay like kissing, touching you, hickeys, etc
- Sex on his balcony overlooking the city, against the windows, on the sofa, atop the kitchen counters, IN THE SHOWER?? Anything you can think of you two have done at least once
- turns into an actual animal when you have sex with him because his sex drive is so high
- goes all out bc he knows you can handle it
- it’s a special kind of sex when it’s with you he treats you differently (not that he’d ever tell you that)
- usually his preferred position is missionary because he loves seeing your face
- but secretly likes when you ride him bc you always have your hands wrapped around his neck
- let’s you mark him all over his back and neck
- leaves bruises on your hips from holding them so hard
- presses down on the spot where his dick bulges in your stomach while smiling
- “she couldn’t do this to you could she?”
- when you kiss him so gently when he’s in the middle of fucking he just melts against you, holding you close by the waist with one arm while holding you both up with the other
- slipped up and says he loves you
- fucking like bunnies
- “wan be yours”, “all mine right?” “Wanna be with you so bad”
- definitely had to have a talk w/ you after abt the shit going on between you two after the hours of fucking you two did
2K notes · View notes
bloompompom · 4 months
Text
Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT
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for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...
✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only
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Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 
If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 
“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 
The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 
The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 
The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 
You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.
He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”
If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 
Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 
The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 
You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 
It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?
Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.
In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.
“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”
“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.
Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 
“That’s you, not me.” 
“Only because of you.”
Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.
“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.
Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”
“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.
She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 
Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 
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After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 
But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 
He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 
So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 
“Hey.”
Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”
He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 
You bristled. “What do you want?”
He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”
“No, you can’t.”
Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”
You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.
“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 
“Who said anything about olives?”
It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.
You sidestepped him to leave. 
Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 
“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”
Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 
“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”
That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 
“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”
You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”
On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.
What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 
Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.
Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 
“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 
“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”
The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.
“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”
As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 
“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.
You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.
You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 
The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 
You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 
After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 
Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.
What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 
Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.
Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.
Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 
Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 
Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 
You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.
You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 
Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?
Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 
It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?
“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”
You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”
You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.
“Something like that.”
If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 
Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 
“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”
Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 
You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”
You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 
“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”
He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 
You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 
“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.
Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”
He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”
You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.
“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”
“Still do,” you muttered. 
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 
No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 
A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”
Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.
You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 
The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 
At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 
“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.
When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 
Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 
Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.
You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 
Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 
When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 
He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.
Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 
He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.
His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 
Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 
Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.
You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 
His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 
“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”
Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.
“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.
“You asked.”
You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 
You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 
You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.
The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 
You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 
Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.
A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 
“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 
Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 
He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 
Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.
Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.
Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.
With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 
You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.
“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.
Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.
You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 
Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 
You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 
More. You needed more.
You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”
A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 
“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”
You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.
You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”
You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.
He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.
“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 
Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.
You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.
But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.
“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.
Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 
He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 
He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.
You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 
You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 
Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.
Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.
You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 
You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 
“I can’t hear you.”
He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 
You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 
“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 
You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.
Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.
Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.
“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”
The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 
“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”
The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 
Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”
Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.
“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”
“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 
Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.
His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 
If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.
You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.
Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”
“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.
You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”
There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.
“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 
There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”
“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”
You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”
He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”
You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.
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as always, thank you for reading ♡
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Text
Not A Verstappen: Gridlocked {3}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: It's Charles birthday and you have to find the perfect gift. Warnings: 18+ only, allusions to smut, alcohol WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four
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Charles’ Birthday Week 2022 “I need you to steal something for me.”
Lando blinked twice as he tried to compute your words before giving up. “What?”
Despite hearing the shower still running, cupped your hand around his ear and whispered, “I need you to go to Charles’ apartment and steal a race suit. It’s for his birthday and I’m running out of time. Please?” 
He perked up knowing you weren’t going to actually get him arrested and started to get a little excited as he nodded. “Okay, but you have to keep him distracted so I can borrow his keys.”
“You’re not even going to ask what I’m doing?” 
“No, I want to be surprised too.” Lando grinned and kissed your nose before getting out of bed and dressing in record time to leave. 
You had spent a long time wondering what to get Charles for a birthday gift when he could literally afford to buy everything he wanted. It had only been when an old video began circulating online a few days ago that the idea sparked to life. You just hoped Lando remembered to disable the alarm.
“Where’s Lan?” Charles asked when he found you alone in bed. 
For a moment you were struck by how good he looked with just a towel slung around his hips and water running down his chest. “He had to pop out, shouldn’t be too long.”
Charles smirked as he climbed onto the bed, the towel falling away as it got caught on the bedpost. “That’s a shame,” he chuckled, caging you beneath him as droplets of cold water fell onto your skin. “He can join in when he gets back.”
Your lips parted to meet his but before they could touch an alarm sounded on Charles’ phone and he pulled back with a frown. “That’s my home security…” He reached for the phone and you snatched it from him before he could open the live video feed and see what Lando was taking. “What are you doing?”
“It’s just Lando,” you admitted as you buried the phone under your pillow. “I sent him on an errand to your place so we could have some alone time.”
“Why would you do that?” Concern contorted Charles face as he sat up and pulled the sheet around his body. “Is this not working for you?”
“No, no, shit, it’s not like that. I love what we have.” The lie didn’t make him relax like you were hoping and your stomach knotted with the need to erase the look from his face. “I love you, and Lando.”
“Moi aussi,” he replied but he still kept his distance as he tried to understand. “Do you want to spend time one-on-one, is that it? I should have offered…”
“Charles, please, shut up,” you groaned as your head fell into your hands. “I don’t want that, I always want us to be together. When we are together I feel like I finally know where I belong, like I have a proper family, and I really wanted to do something special for your birthday to thank you for giving me that and now the surprise is ruined.”
The sheet slipped from his fingers as he reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face. “My birthday?” 
“Since I have to share you with everyone else for your party I thought I could give you a present early but I needed Lando to help. Now it’s not a surprise.”
“I still don’t know what it is, so that’s a surprise,” he reminded softly. 
You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I guess that’s the most important part. But the suspense is gone.”
“I think I can help with that,” he smirked and reached under the pillow to grab his phone before calling Lando on speakerphone. “Mon cher, where are you?”
“Well, uh, you see, we…needed milk,” Lando lied weakly before you heard the bell of the convenience store door in the retail shops downstairs before Monsieur Verne greeted him like an old friend.
“Oh, I thought, nevermind. I should call the police, I think someone has broken into my apartment.”
You clapped a hand over your mouth before you could laugh but a small choked sound broke through at Charles' growing amusement. 
“Fuck, okay it was me, please don’t call the cops,” Lando admitted as the elevator pinged and you heard his panicked voice repeat the request before the line cut out as it always did on the ride to the top. 
“You are so mean!” you gasped but it ended in laughter as Charles tossed his phone to the side table. 
“He lied to me,” Charles chuckled with a shrug and you both turned at the sound of the front door slamming shut and feet sprinting through the house. 
“I don’t think that can really count as a lie,” you teased before Lando filled the doorway, a bottle of milk in his hands even though there was a new bottle in the fridge. “Hi baby.”
“Please don’t call the cops,” he pleaded as he climbed onto the bed. “I forgot the passcode again.”
“No shit,” you giggled as you combed his hair out of his face and he relaxed enough to see the glint of mischief in Charles’ eyes. “He’s fucking with you.”
You took the bottle from his hands as Charles reached for him, tugging him against his body before taking his breath away with a heated kiss that left Lando in a daze. “No more lying,” Charles warned as he nipped at Lando’s bottom lip just hard enough to make him whimper. 
Raising your hand, he turned his attention to you and the small smirk tipping up your lips. “Yes, amour?”
You bit your lip and eyed the flushes on their cheeks, wanting that heat for yourself. “I lied too.”
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Your fingertips hurt and you remembered just how much you hated sewing when you were younger. You thought needlework would be like riding a bicycle and it took a few stabs to prove right as you looked at the final product with satisfaction. Just in time too.
The big celebration was set to start in a few hours but you and Lando were going to meet Charles at his house to get ready for his birthday party together. He had spent the afternoon at his mother’s with his brothers and it was times like this that you wished the relationship could be made known. Then you wouldn’t have to miss sharing these moments with him and his family. 
Next month would be the same with Lando’s birthday.
“Spitz, baby, ready to go?” Lando had been serious about wanting to be surprised and had kept out of the office which was filled with your computer desk and sim-setup. 
“Ready!” You grabbed the bright red gift box and folded Charles’ race suit up before carefully placing it in and sealing it up with a big bow. “What did you get him?”
“Another bottle of Tom Ford.”
“Nice,” you grinned. It was certainly a favourite for all of you and Charles knew it since he wore it more than any of the other bottles he owned, depleting the bottle quite a bit in the last few months. 
Lando carried the box for you, balancing his smaller one on top, and grabbing the keys for your Mercedes Maybach that was parked in the garage next to his Fiat Jolly. The heavy tinting that your car could provide was definitely needed since it was going to be impossible to keep your hands to yourself. Lando hadn’t even changed into his clubbing clothes and he looked mouthwatering, it was only going to get harder for you when he and Charles were dressed up in their finest.
It seemed like all of Monte Carlo had taken to the streets for their Saturday night and it was gridlocked. The minutes ticked away and you ground your teeth as you debated parking and making the rest of the short journey on foot to Charles apartment.
“We’re going to be late if this doesn’t start moving,” you grumbled and Lando reached across the driver’s seat to squeeze your thigh.
“Relax, Spitfire, it’s not race day.”
“Not helping, Norris. I’m not good with going slow.”
His warm laugh filled the car and his hand ran dangerously high up your thigh. “Don’t I know it.”
There was hardly any time to get dressed when you finally arrived at Charles’ and you were in such a rush that you completely forgot about the present in your car. It wasn’t until you climbed in the backseat and Charles found it waiting on his seat in the front.
“C’est risqué?” Charles asked as he lifted it up and gently shook it beside his ear, trying to figure out what it was.
You chuckled and leaned through the middle of the seats to fix up a few strands of his hair that had gone amiss. “It’s not a double ended dildo, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“So I can open it with the others?” You were suddenly nervous but gave him a nod because shying away wasn’t in your nature.
The exclusive club was just ahead and you knew it would be a few hours before you would be able to indulge yourself again so you trusted Lando not to crash and half climbed through the seats to kiss Charles.
“Happy almost Birthday.”
Three tables had been pushed together for all the presents the guests had bought but, after Lorenzo and Arthur had carried out a large cake and everyone had sung Happy Birthday, it was your gift he picked up first.
“Is it kinky?” Pierre asked in your ear as he draped an arm over your shoulder. “Personalised, diamanté cock rings?”
“I swear you think about our sex life more than we do,” you teased with a prod to his ribs. Charles scanned the crowd but like magnets his eyes found yours almost instantly and you gave him a smile as he tugged the bow open.
The material shook slightly in his hands and you wondered if maybe you had overstepped the line when he lifted it out of the box. Beside you, Pierre gasped and his arm fell away as Lando slipped in the narrow space.
“I, I, um, saw an interview,” you stammered as you felt the hundreds of eyes on you. Lando placed a comforting hand on the small of your back and you tried to calm your racing heart before continuing. “And you mentioned your grandma and your race suit and I thought you might like…”
Charles ran his hand over the stitching where you had unpicked the Shell logo, replacing it with a cross. “I love it. Thank you.” He slung the racing suit over his shoulder and crossed the floor to pull you into a friendly hug but his words were certainly more as he hid his lips in your hair. “I love you.”
Max found you as the lights dimmed and the party started to get into full swing. Lando had disappeared into the DJ booth while Charles was being pulled every which way by his friends and family wanting a minute of his time.
“That was nice of you, the gift,” Max said after he ordered two gin and tonics. “Kind of weird too.”
“I'm still more normal than you.”
“Debatable, we are equally fucked up,” he argued, passing one of the drinks to you. “Didn’t know you could sew.”
“You learn a whole lot of useful skills when you can’t afford new things,” you murmured into your glass before taking a sip. “It was either darn secondhand, worn and torn race suits or not race at all.”
“Fuck,” Max swore and tipped his glass back to gulp a few mouthfuls down before changing the subject from the reminder of your fathers lack of decency to provide for all his children equally. “What have you been up to? I hardly see you anymore.”
“I see you literally everyday at work.”
“Yeah, but that’s work, it doesn’t count. You haven’t raided my fridge in weeks.”
“I’m maturing, Max Emilian,” you said as you clapped him on the shoulder, “buying my own groceries and potpourri. You should be grateful, not asking me twenty questions.”
You turned away from the bar and grinned at the sight of Lando at the mixing board, a headset over one ear as he bobbed his head to music he was making. The dance floor was full of people from the F1 world but there were still a lot of faces you didn’t recognise and you wondered if Charles would’ve introduced you to them under other circumstances.
“Fine, no more questions if you come to breakfast tomorrow,” Max bartered and you nodded absentmindedly, throwing a thumbs up as you made your way to the dance floor.
You spotted Charles’ white shirt and snuck up behind him to cup your hands over his eyes. Rising up on your tiptoes your lips brushed the shell of his ear and you purred, “Hey, big boy, wanna dance?”
Your hands were torn away and you frowned as Charles turned, but the eyes that met yours weren’t the right shade. “Fuck me, you look like your brother from behind.”
“He went to the bathroom,” Arthur said as he jutted his thumb towards the dark hallway. “Do I even want to know…?”
“Nope, definitely not,” you cut him off. “Just have a few more drinks and forget this happened, yeah?”
“I don’t think I am ever going to forget you calling me, well Char, big boy, Verstappen,” he laughed.
“She’s not a Verstappen, petit frère,” Charles corrected him as he threw his arms around the both of you and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “What did I miss?”
“She called me-”
“Arthur!”
Arthur clamped his mouth shut with a laugh that rocked his shoulders and he wriggled out of his brother's grasp to disappear into the crowd. Charles kept his arm around you as he started dancing along to the music Lando was playing, both of their smiles brightening when their eyes met.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked in your ear.
Your nose wrinkled and you shook your head. “Nothing, just an inchident.”
Click here for part four.
Taglist: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich  @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19  @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel  @chonkybonky @jpg3  @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi @ru-kru @gillybear17 @topguncultleader @be-your-coffee-pot @sophie-reads-too-much
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cameronspecial · 3 months
Note
Hey I have this idea that I saw on TikTok….
Major fluff!rafe & protective!rafe
Reader comes to stay with Cameron’s because her parents were abusing her and Ward offered for to live with his family. Reader think that cleaning their house earns her love. Rafe takes care of her.
To Earn Your Love
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Emotional and Psychological Abuse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
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Sarah found Y/N at the curb of the Country Club. Y/N had been sleeping at the club in any hidden nook or cranny that she could find before she got kicked out. She was once a patron of the establishment; however, once her family finally removed her from their membership, the employees who saw her during the day could no longer allow her inside. Sarah was quick to offer Y/N a place to stay at Tannyhill and after hearing her story, Ward was quick to agree that the girl could stay. Her parents had disowned her for planning on going to university after her gap year instead of working at the family business. They had her future set in stone and when she didn’t want what they had planned, they suddenly didn’t have a daughter anymore. Y/N didn’t want to accept the offer. How would it look if she is seen staying at the Camerons? What would people think about her parents? Sarah and Ward were able to convince her to stay though and through this whole process, Rafe remained silent in the corner of the room with an unreadable expression on his face. 
Rafe couldn’t believe that the Y/L/Ns would do that to their own precious daughter. He graduated with Y/N and he knew what a sweet and nice girl she was. She was a daughter that would make any parent proud, except for Riley and Ford Y/L/N apparently. As he listened to her explain the details of how they would treat her, his ball would curl up at the signs of emotional and psychological abuse she had been experiencing. They made her believe that a parent's love was conditional on certain factors and that she could only be worthy of being their daughter if she did everything they wanted when that was far from the truth. Rafe had to stop himself from paying her parents a visit. 
———
A crash coming from downstairs makes Rafe bolt upright. His first instinct is to grab the baseball bat he keeps by his bed and to check on Y/N in the guest bedroom. When he finds the room empty, he dashes downstairs in search of her. He hears movement coming from the kitchen, raising the bat in preparation to swing. He steps into the dimly lit room about to hit whoever is inside when a tiny yelp stops him in his tracks. “Y/N?” He turns on the lights to find Y/N hunched over broken glass with fear in her eyes. Tears begin to brim her eyelids and she rushes to pick up the shards. “I am so sorry I woke you. I am going to clean it up right away. You can turn the lights off and go back upstairs. I will clean it,” she insists. In her haste, a jagged edge slips across her skin and crimson liquid blooms across the cut. She continues to clean up the mess that she made. Rafe squats in front of her and gently holds onto her wrists to stop her. “Hey, forget about this. You are bleeding,” he shushes. She drops the glass onto the floor, letting him place her on the counter near the sink. “I really need to clean it, Rafe. Someone can get hurt.” He places a hand over her knees, “It’s okay. I’ll clean it. Just let me take care of you first, Princess.” 
She gives him a meagre nod and holds out her bleeding finger to him. He grabs her hand, running the finger under the water before patting it dry. He steps away from her for a second to grab a bandaid from the cabinet. He places the bandaid on her wound and gives a kiss to the injury. She sets her hand back onto her lap, dropping her gaze to her lap. “I should get back to work,” she mumbles. She jumps off the counter and goes to get the broom in the pantry. Rafe’s eyebrows come to a knit, “Get back to work? What were you doing down here in the dark, Princess?” He assumed she came down for water. But upon looking around the room, he spots cleaning supplies scattered around the kitchen. 
“I’m cleaning. I’m sorry I woke you. I promise it won’t happen again. You can go back to sleep now,” she promises, sweeping up the glass. Rafe tries to conceal his anger so he doesn’t scare her, yet the thought of her thinking that this is normal infuriates him. Once she has the glass cleaned, he takes the dustpan from her hand and puts it away.  He returns back in front of her and tilts her head to look at him. “You don’t need to clean for us, Princess. We have a cleaner,” he informs her. She shakes her head, “It’s okay. I can do it. How else am I supposed to show you that I am grateful for everything? How am I supposed to earn your love?” Rafe starts to think back since she has started staying with them. How the house has seemed clean even though it has been a week since the cleaner came? How, when he came home late at night, it would sometimes feel like someone was in the room next door as he went upstairs? “Princess, how long have you been doing this?” he questions. Her eyes find his, “Every night since I’ve been here. I was doing such a good job too. I haven’t woken up anyone since tonight.” He brushes her hair back from her forehead with his thumb and places a kiss on the skin. “You don’t have to do this anymore. You don’t have to earn our love because we already love you,” he whispers to her, bringing her into a tight embrace. 
She disagrees, “You guys deserve a clean home and not to be woken up in the night while I do so. Am I not doing a good job? Should I use a different cleaning product? Or should I wipe the table in a circle instead of up and down?” “You want to do a good job, then we need you to stop, okay? Because you can’t earn something you already have and we don’t want the people we love staying up to clean. I don’t want the person I love to hurt herself doing this every night. Plus, if you keep taking any more of my love, then I won’t have anything more to give,” he swears to her. Her hands land on his bicep, “You love me?”
“I do and I also really want you to go to sleep right now. So how about we go back upstairs, yeah?”
“Can I just finish cleaning the kitchen first?”
“If you do, then I am going to stay and help you.”
Her face freezes as she thinks about his condition, “I guess we can go upstairs.” Rafe grins in victory, taking her hand and turning off the lights as he leads her upstairs. “Rafe, can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep so early,” she questions, which makes his heartache. This is obviously so engrained in her schedule and he couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed. He nods, pulling her into his bedroom with her. As her head rests on his chest, Rafe vows to himself that he is going to show her what love truly is.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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