#Had a bad morning but this thought fixed it + had to share

[desultory-novice]

I have finally figured it out.

That "'found family' that is in no way a 'make-believe' nuclear family, that does NOT have pre-defined relationship roles doled out to the participants, just people from wildly different walks of life + attitudes bonding through a shared hellish experience who would be there for each other no matter how late the nightmares hit / that will help you bury the bodies without question no matter how cold it is outside"

...THAT is how I see all the Dream Friends being in Kirby.

[jeonsweetpea]

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 

“Sorry…” 

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 

“You’re too good to me…” 

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?” 

He had such a proud smile on his face. 

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!

[satorudoll]

Baby Gumi giving Toji the sus look when he saw the love bites on Mommy's chest

Toji forgot his baby has sharp senses for a baby and baby thought Toji ate his food or hurt Mommy lol

(im starting to feel like y'all wanna turn this acc into a toji thirst vault)

Megumi always had a habit of looking up at his dad weird, the two year old boy always found his dad weird.

So he would spend most of his time toddling towards you and taking up any free space that was available next to you.

The baby boy loved to be in your arms very much, therefore everytime he woke up to find you already waiting there for him near his crib with a warm smile he'd try to get up on his small chubby legs holding onto the rail guards of the crib then forward one of his hands to make grabby hands at you.

You spent most of the day holding the baby boy in one arm and doing every other chore in your house while your husband was out for work because Megumi absolutely refused to leave your side unless he was in a deep slumber.

But as much competent the little boy was so was his dad, Megumi enjoyed all his fun time with you until it was time for his dad to come back from work, the two year old will get all pouty and fussy as soon as he'll hear the slamming of the front door and a loud "I'm home!" followed by the literal thudding of his dad's running feet.

The baby boy's brows would knit together and his tiny button nose would scrunch in distaste as soon as his dad would pull you away from his side to engulf you in a hug and lay bunch of his dirty smooches on your face.

ew, Megumi would think.

Megumi always got annoyed at his dad for doing these stuff to his mom, believing his mom was just a very nice lady to not turn his dad down.

The little boy knew his fun time was over as soon as his dad was home. He would toddle out of his room and find you sitting alone in the couch, peacefully watching television, then he would proceed to start running towards you almost tumbling in his steps just so he can climb up and sit down next to you.

But then the tall giant will casually walk in and let his entire body fall down horizontally on the couch, immediately planting his head on your thighs as well, leaving literally no space for Megumi.

The two year old boy would pause in literal disgust and shock,

This would get the two year old so mad that he would get down to pick up his toy spoon from the floor and start smacking it on the old man's head who in return would start yelling in surprise at why his son was being such a brat while you try pulling him away from his dad.

Now Megumi thought he has seen all the worst sides of his dad, until, one morning the baby boy wakes up way too early than usual due to a nightmare. Not finding you besides his crib he immediately manages to crawl up by standing on his little pile of plushies.

Megumi was indeed a smart baby.

Tumbling towards his parent's shared bedroom he could hear some weird noises coming as he got closer,

he was sure most of it were your voices though?

But you sounded like you were in pain??

He slowly opens the door which was already a bit agape,

he really couldn't understand what was going on since he was way too small and his vision could only go up so far.

But then he hears the loud sound of what he considered to be a slap along with the rough angry voice of his dad followed by your sobs,

he cannot believe his dad was hurting you ! Oh he always believed his dad was a mad man,

He was definitely worst than the monsters under his crib !

and that's all it takes for the baby boy's bottom lips to quiver and let the loudest wail out,

He felt like that helped because through his blurry vision he sees his dad immediately spring out of the bed, murmuring a string of what you taught him were "bad words" while fumbling around for something.

Your head pops out of the covers as soon as you were done fixing your night gown but the two year old was way too busy crying and rolling fat drops of tears down his red cheeks to realize that you had taken him in your arms.

"Gumi- baby what's wrong- " you try to rock him in your arms but that didn't seem to be helping,

"you are just like me kid, all grumpy early in the morning" His dad tries casually playing it off after slumping down besides you both,

but the 'just like me' causes the baby's cries to get even worst making you pass your husband a mad glare for saying that,

Toji stares at you both offended.

"I'm sorry, mommy wasn't there this morning- Won't happen again honey! I'll play with you all day today, we wont be able to play if you keep crying!" you smile as he starts to slowly quite down at those words.

"What a good little boy" You praise, slowly caressing his head and moving his little black baby hair away from his forehead.

His pout is still on his face as his vision moves down from your face but then it stops,

while Toji was joking at you about how he deserves the 'good boy' title as well and you were busy brushing him off, you both failed to notice the little boy's growing frown as he stared at all the purple bruises around your neck and collar bones.

He feels his vision start to get blurry again and then its there again,

His mouth opens wide showing off the two new set of teeth as he starts crying bloody murder.

You gasp in panic not understanding what had happened again.

As you tried to rock him again he tried getting away from your arms and instead stretching his hand towards his dad as he continued balling his eyes out.

That confused you and Toji,

He has never chosen Toji before for comfort as long as you were there,

But Toji was a little too happy to care,

"Does my little boy wanna be with daddy??" He coos, stretching his arms out for you to hand the baby to him,

"I knew you always had a soft spot for me kiddo" he gushes as soon as he takes his baby boy in his arms.

But the happiness didn't seem to have lasted long, because as soon as Megumi gets close to his dad's face his little hands flung up to grip on the locks of his dad's hair.

"What's u-" He yelps when the baby boy starts to twist and turn his fists while he continues to babble something only another baby could make out and sob like he was the one in pain,

"Oh god- baby you shouldn't do that come here-"

You try pulling Megumi back in your arms, but he is willing to take Toji's head along because he just wasn't loosening his grip.

"Gumi ! mommy will cry if you don't pay attention to her !" You make a pouty face and put your hands on your hips while Toji was busy yelping and cursing not caring that the little boy could hear everything

But that immediately gets the baby's attention because he instantly turns his head around and starts crawling to you as his cries slowly starts dying down.

"Demon child !" Toji points as he runs his hands through the locks of his hair, rubbing at the area that his son almost got him bald at,

You lift the baby up in your arms as you look at Toji,

"and don't you curse again in front of our baby" you knit your brows before turning your attention to the two year old and wiping the tears away from his puffy cheeks.

"So I'm the bad guy here??" Toji questions, looking defeated.

You shrug and walk away with Megumi in your arms who had finally gotten quite.

Oh you and Toji had a lot of explaining to do to this little boy, but that wasn't a headache you both were willing to take for Monday morning.

Maybe later at night, when Megumi will seemingly be a bit less pissed at his dad.

☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

[itsvelyria]

"the moment the f1 boys realised you were the one"

Charles Leclerc

being able to cry around you: charles has a bad habit of bottling everything up. it was three months into your relationship when he had a particularly bad race, a stroke of bad luck. he was met with pats on his back and mutters that he would do better. numbness flooding his veins, they did nothing to ease the anxiety in his chest. he met your eyes across the room and watched as you stepped closer. with extended arms, you'd told him to let it out. never once has anyone ever told him that before, and so he had instantly broken down, exhausted from having to hold it all together. there was nothing needed but your presence. he sobs messily into your shoulder and the next morning, he had wished that he'll always have you around.

Carlos Sainz

when he realised you knew him better than he did himself: "how did you know?" were his first words, when he came home one night, only to come face-to-face with a pair of Airpods on the nightstand, addressed to him. he had sorely needed a new pair after losing them on the plane but hadn't had the time to purchase them. "because i know you" was your answer, beaming up at him from the side, where you were preparing dinner. you had missed the deep look in his eyes, rambling on; first his sister's wedding anniversary present in the coat closet, then the watch his father had wanted mended for a while now all fixed. and there it was: that was the moment where carlos finally understood the fluttering in his heart.

Danny Ricciardo

making the best out of life: when you had agreed to go out with danny solely because he made life feel that much brighter, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you. you were always up for anything, the easygoing aura you carried with your being influencing him, especially when he had suggested sharing the singular umbrella left in the store — the unexpected downpour having caught you both off guard. nonetheless, you huddled under the umbrella, both your shoulders getting soaked the second you left the safety of the grocery store shelter. eyes meeting across the umbrella handle, you both break out into chuckles at your plain misfortune. that's when he realised — there was no one else he wanted to be stuck in a bad situation with.

George Russell

inside jokes: it was a small thing, minuscule even, the earliest memory of the joke being one of your first few dates, before you were even official. it was just a simple coincidence that the situation you were called for it. in the group dinner with your mutual friends, george's eyes had shot to yours, searching for the only being who could possibly understand him. and in that flash of a moment when his blue gaze met yours, your bodies had naturally leaned towards their other halves, giggles muffled into your hands. if your friends were surprised at the sudden laughter, he doesnt even notice, too preoccupied with how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight and how fast his heartbeat has gotten.

Lando Norris

shared comfortable silence: your boyfriend loved people, befriending strangers and great conversations. it all came easy to him, possibly due to growing up a middle child, he mirrored a little ray of sunshine. but as much as he adored socialising, lando found that he equally enjoyed quiet time with you, especially on lounge chairs by the beach while you flipped through your book, absolutely taken by the words. lando admired the expression fluttering across your features with each passing page. something strange settled in his tummy as he continued staring, something he could only allude to how peace might feel like. perhaps this is how life was meant to be lived, he thought.

Lewis Hamilton

sharing tattoo meanings: lewis has had a lot of art done on his body over the years and he's proud of all of them; memories and meanings forever part of him. with the orange glow of your nightlight at 3am, he watched as you traced the patterns on his skin, telling you stories and what each of them meant. you had soaked up the words, mesmerised by the deep lull of his voice as he opened up his heart to you. never has anyone been so interested in him as a person, all they wanted to know was his career and business and he appreciated it. to you, he was just a man — someone you wanted to know more about.

Max Verstappen

his pets greeting you: as the provider for his cats, he expected a touch more loyalty from the feline beings. still he remained seated, fixated on how jimmy and sassy nuzzled at your calves, the warmth of their tiny bodies against his legs previously lost. the silence was broken by the sound of grocery bags tossed on the kitchen counter as you stooped down to scratch their fuzzy chins. a light purr emanated from sassy while jimmy rolled over, also meowing in a bid for attention. his heart strangely light, he watched you indulge them like the spoiled brats they were. was it because of how much love was within you or the care you held for the things he held dear? either way, max couldn't tamp down the urge to cross the room and wrap you in his arms, much like you did with his pets now, the three little words in the back of his throat.

[harrysfolklore]

I’m cracking up at the thought of Oscar accidentally seeing a nude of his sister in Carlos’s phone

HELP I HAD TO ELABORATE ON THIS

read little bitch here

Hotel rooms are boring. There's nothing else to do other than lay in bed and shower.

You regret telling Carlos — because now he's your boyfriend, and you share hotel rooms with him, how wild — that you wanted to stay in bed all morning and not join him for practice sessions because now is nearly midday and he's not back yet. And you're bored.

Not finding anything else to do, you open your suitcase to put together your outfit for Quali tomorrow, you laugh when the first thing you see is a McLaren cap and a Ferrari one packed together. And to think that next year you'll be adding a Williams one to your suitcase for race weekends.

As you move a pair of jeans, you come into view with something you didn't even remember you packed — a red lacy set of lingerie.

You decide to put it on, after all, you don't have anything better to do.

Meanwhile at the Zandvoort Circuit, Oscar, Carlos, Lando and Max are lounging at a hospitality area. The sessions and meetings for the day were over, so they were just waiting for the call to head out.

"Lando, can I borrow your phone? Mine is dead and I want to check Lily's flight, it's supposed to land soon," Oscar says from his place on the couch.

"I can't mate, I'm sexting right now," Lando replies, making the group laugh and Oscar roll his eyes.

"Take mine, it's in the table," Carlos says, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the small station in the room.

"Thanks," Oscar grabs the device, failing when he tries to unlock it, "What's your pass code?"

"Your sister's birthday," Carlos says casually, stirring his coffee.

The room erupts in a chorus of groans and laughter.

"Oh my god, Carlos," Lando exclaims, barely containing his giggles. "That's so cheesy!"

"Seriously, mate?" Max joins in, "What are you, a teenager with his first crush?"

Oscar looks at Carlos with mock disgust on his face. "My sister's birthday? Really? I don't know whether to be touched or grossed out."

Carlos shrugs, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "What? It's easy to remember."

"Yeah, sure," Lando snorts. "I bet your wallpaper is a picture of you two as well."

Carlos doesn't respond, suddenly very interested in his coffee.

"Oh my god, it is!" Max howls with laughter. "You're such a sap, Sainz!"

Oscar shakes his head, chuckling. "I can't believe this. My sister's turned you into a lovesick puppy."

Just as Oscar is about to search for his girlfriend's flight information, a text notification pops up. Out of habit and muscle memory, he ends up tapping on it, opening the message.

Oscar's eyes widen, and he lets out a yelp, nearly dropping the phone. "Oh god, my eyes!" he exclaims, tossing the phone back to Carlos as if it were on fire.

The others look at him, confused and amused.

"What happened?" Lando asks, trying to peer at Carlos' phone.

Oscar covers his face with his hands, groaning. "I just saw something I really, really didn't need to see. Carlos, mate, you need to put a lock on those messages from my sister."

With a frown, Carlos opens his messages, tapping on your contact and finding what made Oscar scream in disgust.

A picture of you wearing the lacy red set, with the caption "we need to put these to good use before we throw all the ferrari red away"

Carlos glances at his phone, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly locks the screen. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Ah, I see. Sorry about that, Oscar."

Oscar is still covering his eyes dramatically. "I'm going to need therapy after this. Seriously, Carlos, password protect those messages or something!"

"Come on, what was it?" Lando tries to sneak a peek at Carlos' phone. "It can't be that bad!"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Oscar groans. "There are some things a brother should never see."

"Look on the bright side, at least you know your sister is happy?" Max pats Oscar on the back.

"Not helping, Verstappen!" Oscar throws a nearby cushion at Max, which only makes everyone laugh harder.

"Sorry, hermano. I'll be more careful next time," Carlos says, putting on an awkward smile.

"There better not be a next time," Oscar mumbles, still looking traumatized. "I'm going to need therapy after this."

Oscar makes a mental note to never, ever touch Carlos' phone again, and Carlos makes a mental note to lock his girlfriend's messages. And put those lacy red sets to good use later, too.

[reidelight]

Wake Up Call

summary: when the heat breaks down at the hotel you’re staying at, you suggest sharing a bed with spencer to keep warm throughout the night

genre: a twinge of smut and fluff

cw: 18+ MDNI, gn!reader, afab!reader, pet names (darling, love, pretty boy), slight sub!spencer if you squint hard enough, mutual pining, fade to black sex

wc: 1.8k

note: hi! this is my first fic on here :) there's def potential for a part two if y'all want it. enjoy!

You regretted not bringing a sweater to sleep in. 

While it made complete sense that the weather cooled as the sun went down, you couldn’t help but complain as the cheap motel informed you all that the heating was unfortunately down in some of the rooms. Ever the lucky ones, you and Spencer stepped foot into your shared room and are welcomed with a deceptively kind wall of chilly air.

“You’d think that with all the BAU does on a daily basis, we’d get a decent room to hunker down in,” you huff, setting down your duffle bag on the farther bed.

“Just you wait until you feel the thickness of the duvet,” Spencer chimes in, which results in a dramatic sigh falling from your lips.

It was only a matter of time before you had suggested sharing a bed to gather as much heat as possible. Seeing as Spencer was a walking heater, it made perfect sense when he crawled into your bed and even more so when you huddled close together.

Despite the good doctor’s opinions on the amount of germs passed through physical contact, he found that you bypassed any and every one of those thoughts. Simply put, he didn’t mind your germs. After the three years you two had worked together at the BAU, Spencer had developed a bit of a soft spot for you, and you for him. 

“Pretty boy,” Morgan smirked as he watched you enter with Spencer, treats in hand and the brightest smiles on your respective faces. “About time you two got together.”

“What?” Spencer squeaked, the heat rising to his cheeks. “No, they just brought me a coffee this morning.”

“Just you?” Derek turns to you, “What about me? I like coffee too, and don’t get me started on donuts.”

“So does the rest of the team, and everyone else in this office building. I can’t exactly afford enough for everyone,” you laugh, taking a seat at your desk.

“Not my fault the coffee machine broke down and maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing the damn thing,” Morgan groaned, tilting his head back.

“I’ll bring you one tomorrow, but it’s going on the company card,” you reply, flashing a smile to Morgan.

“Not a chance,” Hotch says as he passes through the bullpen.

Your conversation faded away as Spencer set up his desk far from your own. He couldn’t help but stare at the little heart drawn next to his name on the cup. You were his best friend, but he couldn’t help but allow his heart to flutter at the prospect of something more. Of course, he had weighed the pros and cons of asking you out, but ultimately decided it wasn’t the smartest idea. 

It was all around bad timing. You had just gotten out of a rough relationship and swore off dating for the time being. Spencer watched as men and women alike pursued you each time you’d gone out on BAU bonding nights. It made perfect sense. You were the most beautiful person Spencer had laid his eyes on, of course other people would see that too. 

Spencer had done his best not to let the idea of you in relations with another get to his head. Hell, he had spent so long trying to push away his own feelings for you. It’s not like workplace relationships were prohibited– Penelope and Kevin’s relationship was given nothing but support from the beginning. To him, there was simply no way that you would ever see him in that light. 

Apparently he had been wrong, specifically about what kind of feelings you had for him.

When he had woken up in the middle of the night, Spencer found that the blood not only rushed to his cheeks at the state of your position, but to his crotch as well. You had unknowingly curled up against his front, your head tucked underneath his chin, legs tangled together. 

For a moment, Spencer stopped breathing. You were so calm, completely unaware of the lewd thoughts running throughout his head. He felt ashamed for wanting to pull you closer and hear your sickly sweet voice moan his name. 

“Y/N? Wake up, I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled, trying to wake you.

Instead of opening your eyes, you had moved impossibly closer to his body, placing pressure onto his already aching cock. Spencer winced, simultaneously cursing and thanking whatever god above that allowed this to happen.

“Darling, I need you to wake up,” Spencer shook you again, sighing in relief once he saw your eyes flutter open.

“Was there another murder? What’s going on?” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You really shouldn’t be rubbing your eyes like that. It increases the possibility of small scratches on your cornea, leading to redness, light sensitivity, and irritation,” Spencer spits out, trying his best to evade his evident nervousness.

“I just know you didn’t wake me up to tell me that,” You were slightly more awake now, still unaware of your (in Spencer’s opinion) compromised position.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get up,” Spencer rushed out, gesturing to your proximity. “Right now, preferably. I-I’m so sorry.”

Eyes wide, you shuffle away from him, apologizing profusely for moving around in your sleep. In your defense, the beds weren’t exactly the roomiest, and definitely not built for two people to sleep in comfortably at once. And he was just... so warm.

Spencer scrambled to get out of your shared bed, doing his best to cover his crotch with his hands. Already embarrassed enough, he finds himself bolting to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He rubs his hands on his face, ignoring the statement he’d spat out to you minutes prior. 

Unbeknownst to him, you had noticed his evident hard on as his lanky figure stumbled into the adjoined bathroom. Knowing your history, you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think of the prospect of a hypothetical relationship blossoming between you two. Before you could overthink the idea, you found yourself following his lead and stopping at the door of the bathroom.

“Spence?” you knock gently, trying to listen for any movement beyond the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yep!” he replied rather quickly.

“It’s completely okay, you know. You shouldn’t be ashamed for… that,” you say softly.

“Can we please forget about it? This is highly inappropriate, and I truly am sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Spence. Who said I wanted to forget?” Spencer feels his breath fall short. “Can you let me in, love?”

How could he even begin to say no to you?

Unlocking the door, you’re greeted with a disheveled looking Spencer, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. 

“What’s going on there, pretty boy?” you begin, taking a step closer to him.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this. I really didn’t mean to,” he begins, “W-what are you doing?” his voice falters to a whisper, afraid to speak any louder.

You placed your hands onto his wrists, gently pulling them away from his middle, allowing the view of his clothed erection on display.

“You really have nothing to be embarrassed of, Spence,” you smile, socking your head to the side. “Do you need some help taking care of that?”

“I-I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he mumbled.

“Why not? We’re friends, yeah?” Letting go of his wrists, you bring your hands to rest around his neck.

Spencer nods, instinctively putting his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“And friends help each other out,” he groans, shutting his eyes. “Say the word and I’ll stop. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” he exclaims, gripping your hips tighter. “I’m just nervous.”

“Of what, darling? It’s only me,” you pause, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You have done this before, right?”

“Minimally, yes, but it's not just that. This could change everything. I don’t want to lose you as a friend if anything goes wrong. A-and the team! How are we going to explain any of this to them?” Spencer rambles, trying to avoid your gaze.

“We are the ones in control of this. It’s really our own prerogative to figure it all out. Either way, you’re still my best friend,” your voice fades away, lips pursing at all the thoughts running through your head.

“I am? I thought Penny was?” he spoke just above a whisper. 

“Of course you’re my best friend, dummy. You make it difficult to not love you.”

What? Spencer’s jaw drops, struggling to process the words spilling out of your mouth.

“I can understand if you don’t feel the same way–” your sentence is cut off by soft lips pressing against yours.

Following his lead, you kiss him back just as eagerly. Spencer hums into your mouth as you gently tug at the roots of his hair. You took this as a chance to slip your tongue against his, nipping at his bottom lip. He was desperate, unable to get enough of the taste of your lips. Pulling you taut against his body, you let out a shaky moan feeling his erection press against your belly.

“March 13, 2011,” he says, taking a breath. “Exactly two months after you joined the team, you didn’t seem like yourself. You were really in your head, not even Penelope could cheer you up. It also happens to be the day I worked up the courage to invite you over to mine for some wine and movies to take your mind off everything.”

You hum, taking a pause to press a short kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I remember that. It was the first time we had hung out outside the office.”

“It took every fiber in my being to not kiss you while wine drunk,” he laughs, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I think that’s the day I realized that I fell in love with you.”

“Oh, Spence,” you coo, brushing the hair from his eyes. “I probably would’ve kissed you back.”

“You’d just broken up with your partner. I couldn’t do that to you. I wanted to be a safe place, not just some guy that wanted to get in your pants.”

“I’d like to think that both those statements can exist at once.”

Spencer purses his lips, trying to hide his smile. His heart was beating out of his chest. He’d never felt lighter than he did right now.

“What do you think about letting me help with this, hm?” Spencer moans as your hands travel down his body, hovering just above his bulge.

“I don’t think we can just be friends after this,” he whispers, leaning into your touch.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[elizabebabe]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐠𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ꕤ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡: yoga teacher y/n’s student has her thinking unprofessional thoughts.

minors dni!

| “you got so wet so quickly…been a while since someone touched you baby?”

| “damn — spread open for me, on your mat?”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of y/n, pet name, smut with little plot, fingering, f!masturbation, fantasies, horny!y/n, lowk lonely!y/n.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k!

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬: kicking off the remodel with a one-shot !! zabe loves yoga, zabe loves chris, mix em together?

“today we’ll be doing a few more advanced stretches, stretching out your backs, calves and any other tight muscles.” your voice echoed through the studio, your students crisscrossed on their mats awaiting instruction.

you had early morning classes every day of the week but wednesday was particularly your favorite since you got to see a certain student, his name was chris and yes he was handsome but he also cared about your profession or…maybe less about your profession and more about yoga itself.

he wanted you to help him fix his bad back, asking questions, asking for advice, you needed to be professional which is why all your attempts of asking for his number ended in failure.

you turned on your speakers, the usual calm, lyricless music waving through the room, also not forgetting to turn off the lights to give a more relaxed feel you always wanted to share with your students.

“we’re gonna start how we always start, savasana.” you scrambled around the room, stepping between bodies laying atop their personal mats ensuring everyone knew what they were doing.

you took 3-4 minutes to correct anyone making mistakes and marking who could use a bit of help, some days of the week you had kids joining in with their guardian, on wednesdays you have a pretty mixed group of ages so it can be hard to “grade”.

“alright, that’s savasana.” 

“come up to ‘mountain’ pose.” you continue, stepping on your mat to follow along to your own instructions, trying to ignore your eyes telling you to gaze at the brunette man in the front row.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after an hour of tough stretches, your class huffed and puffed on their way out but one man stayed behind.

“hey.” he nudged at your turned back.

“oh! hi.” the interaction taking you by surprise as you never really interacted, “what can i do for you.” you smiled awkwardly.

“well, with the ‘cobra’ pose.” he hiked his yoga mats strap over his shoulder, “i’m struggling with getting my back that low, it kinda hurts.” he says with a cute, loose smile maybe embarrassed by what he’s saying.

“oh no! if it hurts, find a way to make it more comfortable for you.” you gestured with your hands.

“it shouldn’t hurt, maybe uncomfortable but it shouldn’t hurt—“ the rambling of yours continued.

he snickered which interrupted your words, “thanks.” he gently patted your shoulder before turning towards and out the glass door.

the embarrassment he felt now flipped on you as you wanted to crawl into a hole from the exchange.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

your drive home was silent as you sat overthinking about what played on your mind, ‘he just wanted advice, he doesn’t like you.’

‘why did he touch you then?’

‘it was a pat on the damn shoulder, did you see how fast he got out of there?’

you felt crazy as voices in your head fought over something so small, your key turned into the knob of your apartment door, remembering the exam you promised yourself to study for.

you were in community college, typically only having one class a day left lots of time to work on your yoga studio your parents helped pay for.

you threw your tote and mat to the ground, ignoring the thought to change into some of your loose pajamas and sitting at your small dining table for one.

the first few minutes of studying were fine, even taking off your fitted white jacket as you got in the zone. you were able to focus and concentrate on the work ahead of you but that didn’t stop the little voice in your head nagging about him.

you knew his name was chris or at least that’s what he filled out on the forms you had tucked in a random cabinet—

‘this is crazy.’ you huffed before averting your attention back to your notebook.

…

you scrolled through your phone immediately contradicting yourself by looking for different chris’s throughout social media — ‘doesn't he follow the studio's instagram?’

you scrolled through the following list before finding him, his handsome face adorning his profile picture and only a few photos on his feed, but you loved every second of scrolling through them..

adjusting yourself in your chair every so often at the sight of his beautifully crafted face, you couldn't help your fingers sliding past the waistband of your tight leggings that matched that thrown fitted jacket and quickly underneath your light blue panties that you could only hope chris would see one day.

your fingers quickly found your wet folds slipping through the slick and imagining it was the man from your front row, “you got so wet so quickly…been a while since someone touched you baby?” his voice echoed through your head.

the guilt you felt from thinking about him almost warranted you to stop but when your finger accidentally grazed over your clit you couldn’t stop yourself.

the actions continued, one of your fingers dipping into your soppy hole, another leaving airy touches on your clit.

it wasn’t enough, even with his face and his veiny hands you remember pressing firmly into the mat beneath him you couldn’t hit the right spots you knew those long fingers of his could.

but it didn’t stop you from trying, you pushed deeper into yourself once you slid down the wooden chair you uncomfortably sat in the position of your hips reminding you of when you instructed him through a certain pose even showing him a private demonstration, your fingers curling and grazing that spongy spot you aimed for, you remember that day, silently begging him to make a move, touch you in a any way but he never did.

trying to focus on your fantasy as you pumped into yourself made you wetter, “damn — spread open for me, on your mat?” you imagined him laying you down, taking his time while he undressed you, your drippy hole dripping onto the mat beneath you both.

“you’re gonna have to clean this later.” he says, scissoring his fingers inside you, eliciting a moan from your throat.

“gonna think about me when you do it?” 

“how wet i get you?” he continued.

“chris..” you grunted as your body buzzed and legs shook, you were close and all because you “stumbled” upon his instagram, your fingers picked up speed, vigorous motion ensued on your sensitive bud.

the rope snapping in your stomach halting your movements, your mouth agape and sweat dotting your skin.

a certain ’ding’ brought your attention back to your phone.

an instagram dm, a unexpected “can we talk?” from the man you finished all over your fingers for.

second smut baby !! and it’s about my man..

i hate this :( that’s why it took me so long to post bc i was debating whether it was too lackluster but i wanted to post something while i work on longer things, again thank you for the support on ‘southern belle’ and i love you. 🕰️

🏷️ @fratbrochrisgf @3lizaluvs @lily-strnlo @i-love-ptv @venusjaynie @jetaimevous @lizzysmith110 @firexovni @bagsbyclair0

i hope you’re satisfied with your purchase!

© elizabebabe

[irndad]

She favorites recipes on Instagram. 

It’s a little embarrassing how Carmen knows- that when she’s at his place watching him sketch dishes she can’t taste, he’s also paying attention to what’s on her phone. And it’s usually kistchy things- dresses and outfits with legwarmers, pop-culture breakdowns he doesn’t have time to understand, and yes, occassionally, recipes. 

Carmen adores her company. It’s a private truth, one that they boht know and yet he can’t admit under her gaze. She’s a friend of Richie’s which is endlessly fucking confusing. Both because of how incredible she is, and because it is truly insane to imagine Richie with friends. 

Carmen supposes they’re friends too, now. It doesn’t feel quite right, the way she scribbles notes for him in the mornings and has slept over quite often. She’s busy, has her own life and her own career and he’s lucky for the time he spends with her. He doesn’t really have time to date her the way he’d like to, with dinner dates and late night drives down Lake Shore, watching the sunrise over the lake on mornings where time feels like no object. 

He’s clearly given this some thought. 

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter now. Now, she’s slept over. He’s got a full-size, which felt like a good enough excuse to share the bed, even though every time they do he still ends wrapped around her like a vice, like roots of a tree, raveled in a way that seems inpenetrable. 

She’s sipping on an energy drink- he’s offered her the coffee that he’s imported, and prepared with care, but she’d obviously thought it was too bitter. And now he keeps energy drinks in the house when she stays over. She’s popped in one of her wired earbuds, and the light washes over her like a halo. She’s got a bonafide glow while she sits on his counter, scrolling through recipes. 

“That looks good,” he hears himself say, a little outside of himself, as she stops scrolling. It’s a pasta dish, and she’s favorited it. It looks more complex than it is, really, but he’s not sure he’s a good source.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I had it once when I was in Paris. It was fucking insane, Carmen, it’s so good. I’m always looking for a place to get it. I don’t really think there’s a place in Chicago where you can get it, actually.”

“It was seasonal actually,” he says back, her eyes fixed to his now, “Ever used to make it every fall. Easier to source the pine nuts.”

She looks so, so fond of him that Carmen could entertain the idea of leaning over the counter and kissing her. It’s incredibly tempting, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, endeared by his knowledge. He feels guilty, how he plays with the pencil, knowing she’s stared appreciatively at his hands. He enjoys being pretty to her, leaning into the fantasy that he could be more than her weird fuck-up friend of a friend that’s too chicken-shit to ask her out. How odd is it, that he knows what it’s like to wake up to the smell of her shampoo, but has no idea how she likes to be kissed?

He’s so bad at this he’s failed before he’s even started. 

He can cook, though. 

Cooking is methodical, and so he does it. it’s an easy love language, for him. he dices the parsely and the other fresh herbs, sautes them wirh precision, uses some of the nice butter from work- it’s a marvel, at the end of it, fragrant and warm, waiting for her arrival. 

When she does make her arrival, just on time for him, he plates the dish before she comes in. 

“Oooh,” she preens, raking her eyes up and down him. He feels perciebed, but in a way that he’d like to be. Look at me, he thinks. What a pleasure to be seen by her. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers out, “Thought I’d thank you for all your help. Late nights you’ve been staying up with me, talking through the menu and all- thought I could make you something.”

When she tastes it, it’s careful and adoring, and he’s good at this. 

“Yes chef,” she says teasingly, “Oh my god, Carmen, this is so sweet. You didn’t have to do that. I like being here.”

He wants to kiss her again, doesn’t know why he’s not letting himself. She meets him halfway, though, kissing the corner of his mouth that only a fool would imply has plausible platonic deniability.  

“Thanks, Carm.”

“Anytime.”

He’ll kiss her properly next time.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to.”

It had become a call and response of sorts, a mantra that Eddie seemed to live by, if not only for you. Usually his words were followed up by a kiss, something sweet pressed to your cheek. Or he’d pull you into him by your belt loops, hands a little rough but his intentions always soft, his face dropping to the crook of your neck so he could nuzzle his nose there, like he didn’t really know how else he could possibly give you all the love he had for you.

So when your car inevitably gave up, the clutch grinding and the gears sticking, Eddie didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask, always feeling bad for expecting but it didn’t come to a surprise when he took your keys from you and dropped a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a little off kilter from the early morning sleep that still clung to him.

“Eddie,” you began, as usual. Soft and shy and guilt ridden. “You don’t have to. I know you’re busy right now.”

“Never too busy for my girl,” he responded, wincing a little as he dug out his chocolate pop-tart from the still too hot toaster. He’d learnt the hard way not to use a knife anymore. He tore off a piece of pastry, a sprinkle on his cheek, ruby red. “Besides, what do I tell you, huh? I know I don’t have to - I want to, sweetheart.”

He grinned when you scrunched your nose, embarrassment and too much love clinging to you, Eddie’s adoration too obvious when he leaned down to where you sat with your coffee. He let you brush away the sprinkle, grumbling about how he was saving it for later but his protests died off on his lips when you stole them for a kiss, your hands on his stubbly cheeks.

The boy was pink when you pulled back, pleased looking and much more awake. Then, Eddie winked as he spun your keys around own finger, the rest of his breakfast bitten between his teeth as he left for work, always a flurry bed mussed curls and silver chains.

When he didn’t arrive home by five, you knew exactly why. It wasn’t too long a walk to the garage, but you knew he’d scold you all the same. That’s why you had a Tupperware box full of pasta in your hands, a foil wrapped cookie on top, still warm from when you’d pulled it from the oven.

Sure enough, when you arrived at the almost empty garage, your boyfriend was the only one left working. You passed Wayne as you ducked under the half closed shutter, sharing the same fond look of faux annoyance that you pretended to both have for the younger Munson and you promised the man there was more pasta for him at home.

Eddie didn’t see you approach, too busy with half of his body under the hood of your car, poking and prodding it with tools you didn’t know the name of. You made sure to make enough noise before you rested a hand on the small of his back, fingers skating over the bare strip of skin left exposed between his shirt and jeans.

His smile was too much when he appeared from the car, always happy to see you. And like you thought he would, despite his grin and the way his eyes lit up, he grumbled:

“What’re you doin walkin’ half way across town on your own, huh?”

You rolled your eyes even if you didn’t mean it, your expression still fond and you pushed his dinner to his chest. He accepted the food with a happy hum, peeking into the container to eye it appreciatively.

“It’s a twenty minute walk, handsome,” you replied. “And it’s very much still light out.” You smiled at his worry because the evening behind you was barely beginning, the summer sun still high enough in the sky to keep the sidewalks golden, the warmth lingering.

Eddie grumbled again, no real heat behind it as he leaned in for a kiss, careful not to put his dirty hands on you. “Still. You’re too pretty to walkin’ around alone.” Another kiss, this one softer, longer. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”

You beamed, happy to have helped. “Least I can do since you’re fixing my car.” You frowned at the vehicle like it had offended you. “How’s it looking?”

“She’ll live,” Eddie sighed dramatically, giving the roof a pat. “If you remember to change her oil, that is.”

Your cheeks burned.

“But I’ve sorted the clutch, so that shouldn’t stick anymore and there’s a part needed for the gearbox, but I’ve got that on order,” the boy bit into his cookie, desperate for sugar. He moaned, a sinful noise that was meant for both you and the chocolate. “Hopefully it’ll be here tomorrow so I’ll do one more late night, get this hunka’ junk back on the road for you in no time.”

You knew it was a fruitless effort to ask Eddie to let you pay in anyway. Hell, Wayne would shut you down just as hard. Eddie didn’t want you paying for any of his hourly rates, overtime or not. And as he’d told you before, costs for parts could get lost sometimes, receipts slipping down the backs of desks, never to be seen again.

So you smiled at him instead, soft and sweet and warm like the summer. You didn’t mind the oil stains on his shirt as you leaned in, hands against his torso, feeling the faint lines of muscles and soft skin there.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his lips, stretching up on your toes to bump your nose against his. A kiss, tasting like chocolate chips, lingering and lazy. “I love you.”

Eddie went shy like he’d never heard you say the words before. Maybe you didn’t say them enough, maybe you needed to remind him hourly, especially if it got him looking at you like that, eyes all wide and soft and awe filled.

He pecked your lips, your cheek, your jaw, nose pushing at the space under your ear as he told you the same. “I love you too, pretty.”

You didn’t need to hear it back, as nice as the words sounded on his lips. Eddie showed you how much he loved you every single day.

[finalgilmoregirl]

omg I loved your grumpy x sunshine Mike and reader work - could you please do another scenario where the sunshine! reader is the one who has a bad day and it’s up to grumpy! Mike to comfort and help out in his own way? :) thanks for sharing your work!

a/n : i'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the request. fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mainly just fluff

☆ bad day : grumpy!mike schmidt x sunshine!fem!reader

mike knew something was wrong the moment he closed his door behind him and was greeted with silence has he entered the house.

you were always rushing in to greet him as soon as the sound of his keys against the door knob signaled his arrival, but today that clearly wasn't the case.

"hello?" mike called out and a moment later was met by the sight of abby creeping out of the hallway.

"where's y/n?"

"well hello to you too" the young girl rolled her eyes, walking past mike and heading for the kitchen.

"sorry" he sighed, catching her arm before she got too far and pulling her into his arms for a hug, earning a groan in response. "how was your day?"

"it was okay, but i think y/n/n's sick."

"sick? what do you mean?" mike thought back to when he last saw you just that morning. you were fine, your normally bubbly self despite the early hours, yawning between giggles as you and abby got breakfast prepared.

abby shrugged, "i don't know, she's been in bed since we got home."

mike knew you better than abby to know that you couldn't be sick. even if you were sick, you would protest and continue your daily routine as usual. something had to have been seriously wrong for you to defy from that routine and lay in bed for hours, especially with abby home. you hated to leave her alone and always tried to find something spontaneous and fun for the two of you to do if time permitted.

he warily walked into the direction of your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door that was left ajar. the lights were off and if it wasn't for the glow of the hallway light, he wouldn't have been able to see your figure on the bed in the dimness of the afternoon darkness.

but there you were, laying on your side, facing away from the door. mike could tell you weren't sleeping by the way that you were scratching at the loose threads of the faded colored duvet.

"hey" he called out softly, nearing your spot on the bed where he then took a seat on the edge, softly placing a hand on your shoulder. "you okay?" he asked, trying to gauge your emotions. that quickly cleared up however when he heard a sniffle come from you, followed by a small hiccup. you were crying.

mike leaned over to look at your face and was met with wet eyes and puffy chapped lips. his eyebrows furrowed, "hey hey hey" he said softly, moving you so you were now laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to will the tears away. you hated crying, and you knew mike hated to see you cry. "what's wrong? what happened?"

you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, clearly trying to control yourself. "just...had a bad day." you sighed.

"well, talk to me about it." mike wasn't always the best at dealing with emotions, but he was good at comforting you and abby, always wanting you to open up to him, even if he had trouble doing the same sometimes.

you took in another deep breath and nodded, preparing yourself to tell mike about the worst day you'd had in a while.

"i fell off the front steps after you and abby left this morning. but it was okay" you started, "i laughed, realized i scraped by knees and had to change my pants but that was okay." mike nodded along and listened, rubbing your side as you spoke. "but then i got a flat tire on my way to work." you continued, sighing as you felt the emotions building up again. "that was fine, it took me a while to get it fixed but i mananged and that was taken care of with no problems. but i was late, and usually my boss would let that kind of thing slide, but we had some hire ups there to oversee us and when one of them called me out for not being "better prepared", instead of changing the subject or at the very least, defending me after everything i've done for him, he agreed! then she basically told him that i should either be fired or have my paycheck cut." you finished with a huff and let the fresh tears that had built up in your eyes fall down your face.

mike felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he heard you recount the unfortunate events of your day. you didn't deserve to go through all of that. "why didn't you call me?" he asked, brushing the tears away from your face and attempting to flatten the hairs that had become out of place.

your hands came up to cover your face as you let out a sob. "i forgot to charge my phone!" you cried, earning a soft aww honey from mike as he kissed your temple, allowing for you to let your feelings out. after a minute of you gasping for air through your cries and furiously wiping away tears that just kept coming, you started to relax. you sighed and turned your head to your partner.

"i'm sorry you had to see me like this, how was your day?" you asked, still sniffling. mike shook his head and scoffed a laugh, even in the middle of a breakdown, you still want to talk about him.

"no don't worry about me, it was fine." he said, "how can i help you?"

you shrugged, looking down and beginning to play with mikes fingers where his hand now rested on your stomach.

"come on" he insisted, "you always help me when i'm having a bad way and i want to help you now. do you want a snack? do you want to watch a movie, or go for a drive? anything you want, i'll do it for you."

you let out a small laugh at mike's dedication, causing him to squeeze your side. "i'm serious!"

you looked back up and into his eyes, cracking a small smile. "maybe a movie." you said quietly.

"okay, i can do that." mike spoke, starting to get up from his seat on the bed until he was stopped by your hand on his arm.

"but first can you just hold me for a bit. please?" mike looked down at you with a kind of softness that he ever only reserved for you.

"yeah, i can do that too."

the end ☆

[saltnsugarbear]

take time and erase you

summary: after being betrayed by Carmy four years ago, you reunite with him at The Beef after Mikey's death.

title from: "Bad Blood" by Taylor Swift ft. Kendrick Lamar

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: LOTS of swearing, mentions of Mikey's death, allusions to depression, reader is close friends with Richie

part two!

You knew Carmen Berzatto from your shared time with Chef Daniel Boulud. You two worked better together than any of the chefs in that kitchen, able to work around and with each other without having to talk. Moving around each other organically and clearly. You worked so well together you could stop each others future mistakes or work out a quick solution with just looks.

That was until the week Carmen started acting prickly. When he started to shoulder you out of the way and moved in ways that were so alien to your usual system.

And then he made a mistake.

And then he blamed it on you.

And then Chef Daniel gave you an ultimatum that you could leave yourself or be fired.

You "chose" to quit. You told Chef Daniel that when he gave you the ultimatum, put your stupid chefs hat on the counter and left without a glance at Carmy.

You sat in the alleyway going through half your pack of cigarettes, a habit you picked up from Carmen, when he found you. His whites were disheveled and he had lost his hat along the way.

He stopped when he saw you, sat up against the wall with your arms hanging over your knees and cigarette in hand.

"I'm sorry-"

"Fuck you." You spit out at the same time as him. The face he makes has you scoffing before you know it. "I dished up a plate with a known allergy and forgot to sub? Fucking really Carm?"

"I didn't, I didn't mean for you to get- for you to quit. I didn't think-"

"You're right, you didn't think. All you thought about was saving your own ass, Carmen." Using his full name has him flinching before he knows it. It's always been Carmy or Carm or Bear. Never Carmen, unless you were stressed or pissed.

And you were pissed.

You put out your cigarette beside you and then stand up, putting yourself in Carmen's space.

"I didn't- I'm sorry, I don't-" He looks at a complete loss, his own eyes searching yours.

"You can't fix this, Carmen. You made your bed, fucking lie in it." And with that, you push past him to walk out of the alley and into the New York night.

You hadn't seen Carmen Berzatto in the last four years and barely thought about him after two.

You moved back to Chicago and got a job in another kitchen. Despite it being dysfunctional beyond belief you loved your staff. They were loud and bustling and disjointed but they had so much life in them you hadn't seen in so long.

Coincidentally, the restaurant was spear-headed by Carmen's brother, Michael. Despite your differences with Carmen you found yourself getting on with Mikey. The difference between the brothers was astounding and you found yourself enjoying working with Mikey more than you had when you worked with Carmen.

You weren't even really in the kitchen, Michael had hired you to work register and front of house with Richie and Gary. It was a nice change of pace from being elbow deep in a dish.

You got to spend most of your day bantering with Richie and roping in the customers to your bit.

The two of you formed a bit of a front of house trio with Mikey. Before February, anyways.

Michael's death shook everyone at The Beef. No one had seen it coming, despite Mikey's recent spiraling.

His death hit Richie the hardest, after being childhood best friends and the closest you could get to brothers without blood.

You spent the following weeks afterwards going by Richie's place and making sure he got out of bed. You would take him home from work, sometimes spend the night and then make him breakfast in the morning.

You could have moved in with how often you were there with him. You helped him be presentable for Eva and got him through some of the more monotonous tasks.

Both of you going through that loss allowed the both of you to build a stronger relationship that really shown in front of house.

Until Carmen came home in June.

The moment you saw Carmen in the back office you turned yourself around and walked towards front of house, "Richie! What the fuck is in this office!?"

Richie pushes the door between front and back of house open and pops his head into the kitchen, "What's in the office, sweetheart?"

The rest of Richie's body followed as you point in the direction of the office, brows furrowed and mouth set in a frown.

"Oh shit," Was what came out of Richie's mouth and you turn to see Carmen in the office doorway with his hands on his hips.

"What the fuck is up, Cousin?" Richie walks past you to clap a hand on Carmen's shoulder and put an arm around him.

You cross your arms as you glare at Carmen, making your displeasure as obvious as possible.

Richie turns to you and gestures towards Carmen, "Sweetheart, this is-"

"I know who he is, Richie. What is he doing here?"

Carmen decides to pipe up then, "Y'know I can fuckin' hea-"

"Shut the fuck up, Carmen." You turn your glare on him and he closes his mouth.

"Oh, shit," Richie giggles and jostles Carmen by his shoulder. "Cousin, the fuck did you do to piss 'em off? I didn't even know you two knew each other."

You turn back to Richie, your glare weakening, "Of course you knew, Richie. I just never talked about him because he was a backstabbing asshole."

Carmen decides to open his mouth again and say, "You know that's not-"

You turn back on the man beside Richie, "Not what, Carmen? Not what happened? How would you explain what happened? Because I would love to hear how you would describe it."

Richie whistles before Carmen can answer and pats him on the shoulder again before letting him go. "You must've really fucked up, Cousin. Never seen 'em this upset before."

Richie walked past you to front of house and you followed him, putting as much distance between you, the office and Carmen.

"Is that gonna be a problem?" Richie leveled with you when he reached the counter.

"If he stays in the kitchen, no, it won't be." you respond.

And Richie leaves it at that.

And it wasn't an issue for the first two weeks.

Sure money had been tighter but it had been since before Mikey passed. Richie just wanted to blame the money issues on Carmen, instead of tainting the memory he still had of Mikey.

When the third week of Carmen returning to The Beef came around, tensions were high. Tina and Ebra weren't used to the change in pace and system, finding it hard to work with the emotional whiplash of mourning Michael and wanting to strangle Carmen.

The third week brought Sydney Adamu, who looked at Carmen with stars in her eyes. you had heard her talking about his accomplishments and you could see the idol pedestal she had put him on.

You walked in with Richie, after picking him up from Eva's recital. You let him beeline his way to Tina and Ebra to recount the event as you put your coat in your locker and exchange it for your apron.

You spot Sydney floating around the kitchen, collecting ingredients from the walk-in and pantry. She moved with a grace you hadn't felt in so long and had a concentration many would envy.

She was perfect, to be truthful.

"Chef," you turn your gaze on Carmen, face blank. "You're late."

You roll your eyes and tie your apron around your waist. "Well, Chef, I'm not kitchen staff. And we don't have service for another two hours."

"It doesn't matter when we open. We need to capitalize-"

"Capitalize on my fucking dick, Carmen." The look of shock on his face makes you want to laugh. "I'm front of house, you don't need me for your prep. Two hours is more than enough time to get the restaurant ready for service, when I don't have a child whining in my ear about my supposed tardiness."

Carmen puts his hands on his hips, making his stance wider.

"Now, if you could move, I have shit I need to go do. Chef."

Carmen looks at you for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Okay, go, chef."

You roll your eyes at him and slide past him to the door between the front and back.

"Chef, can you stay for a minute?" When Carmen stands in the doorway of the office while you're grabbing your bag, you want to throw one of the lockers at him. You make a show of sighing and then take a deep breath.

"Richie!" You see Carmen flinch in your periphery from the raised volume in your voice.

"Sweetheart!" Richie calls back from front of house.

"Carmen's keeping me hostage! Go have a cigarette or something!" You pause and wait to hear his response, tilting your head towards the door.

"Yes, chef!" You wait to hear the front door open and close before you motion for Carmen to go into the office.

"How long are you going to stay pissed off at me?" Carmen is settled against the edged of the desk, his arms crossed.

You sigh. "Well, Carmen, I lost my job because of you. Which thoroughly fucked up my whole life. So, I'd say it's valid to be pissed off for the rest of your lifetime."

"I apologized. I- I don't know what else you want?" Carmen gestures with one hand, waving it before moving to rub at his top lip. A nervous habit he's still kept.

"An apology doesn't fix what you did, Carmen. You used me as a scapegoat-" You adjust your stance and cross your arms over your chest.

"I don't know what you want me to do. Or- or say."

"Nothing, Carmen!" You gesture expansively and straighten up, "There is nothing you can do or say that will change the fact you massively screwed me over to save yourself."

Carmen's eyes are wide and searching your own.

"So, own your shit, Carmen. Quit acting like you didn't know what you were doing. And quit digging up old bones and expecting me to feel bad for you. You're not a child, quit throwing the blame off yourself." Your voice had gotten quieter and more neutral as you spoke. You've pictured this argument before and it's much exhausting then you thought it would be.

You put your hands on your hips, thinking that's the end of it before Carmen speaks up again.

"I need you to respect me, then. I- I can't have you mouthing off to me, or- or fucking showing up late. Because how am I supposed to- t'get the respect of the rest of my staff when I have someone treating me like I'm- I'm a fucking joke." He's placed the hand he gestured with on the desk and you can see him resting some of his weight on it.

"Then earn my respect, Carmen. Work for it."

Carmen furrows his brow and stands up straighter, no longer leaning on the desk. "What? What- what does that even mean?"

"It means," you punctuate this by getting in his personal space. In a few steps you'd be chest to chest with him. "Work for it. You don't get my respect just because you took over. You earn that shit, you know that."

Carmen is silent as he studies your face, eyes searching yours.

"And don't try making this like those other kitchens. It's not going to work, you'll break them or they'll break you. My money's on them." You watch his face before adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Now, if we're done here, I need to get Richie home. It's past his curfew."

Carmen rolls his eyes at that and you can see the slight tug at his lips that he is fighting. "Go home, chef."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself." You reply as you turn around and walk out of the office. On your way through the front of house and outside, you fish out your pack of cigarettes. Once you're out the door you're lighting a stick before jamming the pack in your pocket and turning to corner down the street.

Richie is standing by the boot of your car, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other scrolling through his phone. When he spots you he slides his phone into his front pocket.

"What did he want?" He holds his hand out for you cigarette and you pass it to him to fish out your keys.

"Planning the menu for dinner with your mom." You reply, pushing the button to unlock your car.

"Oh hardy-har-har. Very funny." Richie stubs the stick out on the sole of his boot and hands you the dead stick.

"Get your ass in the car or you're walking home, Germ." You look at him as you open the driver's door and get in behind the wheel.

"You wouldn't do that to me, sweetheart." Richie scoffs as he gets in the passenger side.

"Maybe I would." You look at him as you turn the key in the ignition. Richie huffs again and looks out the window, leaving the two of you to drive with only the music making noise.

[twirlyleafs]

“Matilda”

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: complicated relationship with parent and guilt but mostly fluff <3

A/N: based on the song Matilda by Harry Styles

~~~~

You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know.

“I think we should call off the party.” You said, not looking up from your plate as you continued parting your food. In your peripheral vision you could tell Max froze just as he was about to pop a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“What?”

“The engagement party. I don’t want to do it anymore.” You tried to keep your tone light, as if it didn’t really bother you when in reality you’d cried an hour about it this morning. For the past few weeks you and Max had been planning a party to celebrate getting engaged, or rather you had been supposed to. In reality you had planned it, Max avoiding the subject like the plague. Every time you asked him to sit down with you to look at something regarding it he’d suddenly been very busy and if you asked for his advice he’d just kissed you and told you it didn’t matter, that it was your choice. At first you’d been so excited about the party, not just to get to celebrate the love you shared with Max, but because you thought planning a party together would give you a hint of how planning a wedding would be. Now all it did was make you want to cry.

“Why not? I thought you were so excited?” Max placed his utensils down, frowning at you from across the table. You shrugged, moving some lettuce around on your plate.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. I think it’s best if we skip it.”

“But why?” He pressed and with a deep breath you looked up at him. Max offered the softest expression, genuine worry and confusion on his face. You forced yourself to give him a small smile.

“You don’t want to Max.” You stated simply and his face fell for a second before the frown was back. He opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind, a silence settling over the table. You looked back down, poking the food around and occasionally taking a bite. It felt like forever before Max spoke up.

“I do want to.” The way he said it with a sigh had you looking up at him with furrowed brows. He shook his head when he met your gaze, obviously sensing your disbelief. “I do, I promise you baby. There’s just- I’ve been thinking about, well-“ Max didn’t seem to find the words, suddenly nervous. You reached your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers a bit. Max paused, a small smile forming on his face as he took your hand in his and leaned down to press a kiss against it.

“Tell me.” You mumbled, your thumb moving over his skin in the most comforting way you could. Max gave you a quick nod and you could tell he found it hard to express whatever it was he was about to say.

“I know we said we wanted our families and friends at the party.” He began, and you nodded. “And I do. Mostly.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused.

“You know I love my dad.” He began and it slowly dawned on you what this was about. You refrained from grimacing at the mention of Jos. The two of you had never really gotten along but that had never bothered you that much, Max had ensured you that Jos had never and would never get along with anything that took time away from racing. What made you really dislike your soon to be father in law was the way he treated his son. You’d seen Jos absolutely tear into Max for mistakes made by the team, by other drivers. You’d heard the stories from Maxs childhood, having been told the worst ones by his mother and sister since he would never share them himself. He didn’t want to put his dad in bad light, ever. Even when Jos definitely deserved it.

And not invite your family because they never showed you love.

“I know you do.” You agreed, leaving it at that. Max once again nodded softly, knowing very well how you felt about his father.

“And even though a part of me wants him there- I mean he is my dad.” Max paused again to take another deep breath, eyes fixed on your hands, before continuing. “An even bigger part of me don’t want him to come because I know he’ll either upset you or my mom or one of our friends.”

“Or you.” You added, knowing that even though Max had taught himself not to let it show when his father hurt him it affected him a great deal.

“Or me.” He agreed, quietly. “I think everything would be better if he didn’t come but I also feel this, I don’t know, intense guilt at the thought of not inviting him.” Maxs eyes shot up to stare at you the second you pulled your hand from his. He watched you stand up and for a split second he thought you were angry, but he quickly realized that you were rounding the table to come to him. Pushing his chair out he let you crawl up in his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. With a small pout on your face you let your hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you.

“Max.” You cooed, not being able to stop yourself from placing a quick but loving kiss on his lips before continuing. “You have every right in the world to invite, or not invite, whoever you want. Just because he is your father doesn’t mean he gets an automatic invite if you don’t feel like you want him here.”

“But it feels so mean.”

“He’s mean.” You stated, backtracking when you saw Maxs face drop. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to say is that he put himself in a position where you’re even considering not inviting him. He did that. Not you.” You scratched your nails against his stubble, making him close his eyes momentarily. “I’ll support you no matter what you decide and I promise we will make the best of the situation whether he’s here or not. But you should only invite him if you actually want him here, not because you feel obligated. Loving someone doesn’t mean bending over backwards for them.” When Max opened his eyes again he immediately met your gaze and you could tell your words were slowly resonating within him.

“I don’t think I want him here.” You rarely heard Max be so vulnerable and it made your heart both hurt and swell with pride. He was standing up for himself.

“And you don’t have to be sorry for that. You don’t need to list anymore reasons other than the fact that you simply don’t want to.” You let your hands wander down his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Max nodded slowly and even though you could tell he wasn’t quite there yet, he was one step closer to standing up for himself. You tilted your head, offering a soft smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now Maxie, we can take some time.” Max couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss you.

You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, lips still pressed against yours. You felt his arms tightening around you and you let your head fall to his shoulder. Max let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out lately.”

“You always stress me out.” You joked, earning a soft laugh and fingers pressing into your side. You grinned and pecked his neck a few times, being the only thing you could reach while staying as comfortable as you were. “No but seriously Max, don’t worry about it. I get it. Just know that you can always talk to me about these things, about anything.”

“I know.” He whispered against your head and you smiled. Marrying Max would be the best decision of your life, you were sure of it.

[coff33andb00ks]

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Song: can i be him by james arthur Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (LMAOOO)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-Divorce, shared custody, injury and stitching in the beginning, heavy angst, arguing, Jealous!Miguel, fall out, mentions of infidelity and pregnancy, EVENTUALLY SMUT, PIV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating (we’re getting nasty nasty), brief breeding kink

𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by @yougavemeyourheartyouknow baby daddy AU. I didn’t think this one would get this lengthy but here we are I guess.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Miguel hissed when he felt the rubbing alcohol being smeared onto the wound across his abdomen with a cotton pad. A sharp scent of disinfectant wove through the air, tingling his nostrils and it mingled with the faint aroma of coffee you both had earlier.

There he was, perched on the sofa in his ex-wife’s living room, hair damp from sweat as you patch him up after another mission as Spider-Man — an event he never anticipated would happen to him at two in the morning.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he spattered out as he felt another stinging wave from the alcohol. You gaze up at him from his wound that you were focused on before you spoke.

“Sorry, I thought you had a higher pain tolerance,” you said, dabbing the wound gently.

“I do, but that doesn’t give you license to be rough with me like that,” he mumbled. Despite the divorce, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You both remained friends as your marriage never worked out between the two of you. You would patch him up whenever he needed it— he would rather have you take care of him just to feel your touch than have a random nurse.

As the blood cleared from the open cut, you could see the gash more visibly now. A villain's blade had slashed across him deep enough to leave a large wound that won’t heal on its own.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you got up from the seat to go to the bathroom before coming back with your kit. Miguel sank further into the plush cushion of the sofa, feeling the fabric yield under his weight.

His heart twisted with a mix of guilt and gratitude as he watched you tend to his wound. He grimaced slightly at the pinch of the needle on his skin but your hands were delicate, careful not to further damage the delicate area.

He sat still motionless as his eyes were glued to you. It was easy to admire you and how concentrated you were right now. You were always nurturing and wanted the best for people you cared about. Your brows furrowed as you kept working on the cut.

“Jesus Miguel…” you whispered, taking in the sheer size of his cut.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. “It’s not that bad, you know I’ve had worse. You’ve treated worse than this,”

Even if you were divorced and not together by law, he still cherished these moments with you. You were still the same woman he loved.

Watching you fix him up made him feel like things were almost back to normal again— that he was home and his wife was here to get him back on his feet. Until reality would set in.

“I know. It’s almost like you’re testing your own durability,” there was an obvious worry etched in your voice as you were finishing up stitching his wound. It made his stomach churn with silent longing.

“That cut? You really think that’s a test for durability?” He arched his brow inquisitively. He knew it was a big gash but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“That was nothing more than me not paying attention. But this one however…" he pointed to his bruised shoulder, "that was a test for durability. I got smashed through a wall,”

You peered up at him momentarily, a flicker of disturbance in your eyes, before you silently resumed his last stitches.

Silence fell between you as the faint hum of the city filtered through the window, punctured by the occasional sirens and car horns.

“All done,” you announced, leaning back to examine your work.

He sat up from the couch carefully, making sure not to put too much strain on the fresh stitches. “Gracias,”

“Don’t forget to drink your fluids,” you reminded him.

“Sí sí. You sound like an overprotective mother,”

“Well…I just so happen to have a daughter,” you gave a soft smile. Out of everything that had happened in your marriage, he would forever be grateful that you gave him a daughter.

Watching Gabriella grow was a profound blessing that he would never take for granted. Fatherhood had made him learn a lot about himself that he never knew he could harbour, fostering a newfound level of patience and empathy within him.

And now, as Gabriella was approaching her fifteenth birthday, Miguel couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the years had passed. He would soon be preparing for her quinceañera with you, a milestone that seemed to arrive in a blink of an eye.

“And do you tell her to drink her fluids as much as you tell her papá?” He asked in a slight tease.

“You know I do and I tell her to eat her greens,” you replied, matching his lighthearted tone.

His heart soared at the fond memories. You were always an amazing mother, a role that bloomed naturally from you as soon as you gave birth to your daughter and held her in your arms for the first time.

He didn’t think he could fall for you more until he saw you nurse your baby for the first time with a tender look in your eyes. He hated the fact that he wasn’t there to witness those precious moments of you bonding with your daughter enough when he had the chance to.

“I’m surprised Gabi hasn’t picked up any of your bad habits,”

“Bad habits like what?”

“You know…the irresponsible stuff,” he chuckled, clearly getting a rise out of you. “You should’ve seen her last weekend. She called the guy you’re seeing a ‘cabrón’”

An uneasy tension knotted in chest after he broached the subject of your date, almost like he was dreading to hear what you were going to say.

He was never thrilled about the topic, just as he never was when you spoke about anything to do with other men. However, he didn’t expect to see your face drop, like the topic hit a raw nerve.

“She said that?” You voice was hesitant and he noticed shoulders slump and your brows furrowed.

Either you were uncomfortable with Gabriella’s candid remark towards your date or you didn’t like that she was cursing at her age.

“She did. Look I heard what she said but she’s probably just saying that to sound grown up. She is a teenager and the hormones make them go nuts,”

“Sure I guess,”

“Try not to take it personally,” he reached out to hold your hand and tried to reassure you, even if hearing Gabriella cursing wasn’t the best thing a father should let slide.

“I’m not upset about that,” you droned.

“Your tone says otherwise,”

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Your demeanor shifted into something more serious and you were avoiding eye contact with him which made him uneasy. “If I’m going to keep dating him, I can’t patch you up like this anymore,”

Miguel swallowed thickly, processing what you had just told him. “You’re not meaning…”

“Yes,”

He felt an uncomfortable pull in his gut and his heart felt like it was about the leap out of his throat. “You can’t be serious,”

“It won’t be fair on him if I’m still friends with the man I was married to,” Miguel couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he couldn’t call it stupid.

A small part of him knew that you were right. How could any man feel safe when his new woman was still close with her ex-husband, her ex who still loved and pined for her? But he wasn’t going to stand for that.

“And since when did I care if it’s fair on him?” He snapped back.

For a split second, Miguel could feel the cool platinum of the wedding band that he still hasn’t removed from his finger. It served him a bitter reminder that he was still not over you. He hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, especially now.

“This isn’t just about you,” there was a sharpness in your tone when you said that, whether it was intentional or not it still cut deep. You continued to pour salt on the wound as you added on, “Don’t act like you didn’t sign those divorce papers too,”

“Stop it, don’t you think I know that. I was naive to think that a divorce was going to solve anything,” Those damn divorce papers. Thinking about it made the knife that was already stabbing his heart twist further.

If there was anything he regretted the most in life, it would be sitting down in the courtroom and signing those papers that finalised your parting.

Now, he had to watch you go on a date with someone else because he pushed you away. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration knotting in his chest.

“You know why we had to file the divorce,” you said.

Miguel’s mind went spiraling and he wanted to sink into the floor. He was fully aware that he was the one to blame for this. The long hours he spent away as Spider-Man, the growing distance between the two of you— it all led to a rift that tore you apart.

He initiated the divorce, convinced it was for the best. Your marriage was standing on its last leg and he didn’t want to waste your time.

Even if there was no bad blood between the two of you and you decided to stick to being friends after, it didn’t make things hurt any less. Miguel still craved more of you and he missed his chance when he had it.

But now the consequences of his decision were biting him in the ass and the prospect of his biggest fear was coming to fruition. He couldn’t stop you from dating again and he hated it.

“Even if we do stick to being friends, we’re going to be more distant than we were before,” you further explained.

Miguel stared silently as you stood up from the couch and kept going. Each word uttered from you was punctuated with agony that was piercing his heart. “You’re not going to be able to have me like you used to Miguel, not the way that you want,”

He knew he was starting to be selfish now and he had no right to be jealous when he failed you as a husband. He was fully aware of the point you were making and the logic behind it but he still refused to let it go.

Finally he spoke after a long while, “I’d rather have a part of you than none of you,”

“Do you truly believe that you’ll be satisfied with that in the long run?”

Realistically, no. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He didn’t want to be a bystander in your life and witness you bounce back and love someone again that wasn’t him.

But despite that, he still wanted to stay because there was still a small part of him that was grasping onto straws, hoping that you will take him back and you’ll be his again.

But how long could he accept the scraps of you that you’d throw at him before it got too unbearable? It was ironic— the main cause of his wounds that you just patched up right now, the life of Spider-Man, was the reason why you both drifted apart.

“If it wasn’t for our shared custody that’s tying us down, I would’ve said we should’ve cut off a long time ago,”

Those words hurt more than Miguel let on. He rose from the couch and limped towards you, hissing from the sting of the wounds. “Don’t say that, I’m the father of your child—”

“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” Miguel winced internally.

He didn’t know what hurt more, you interjecting or the fact that you only saw him as a co-parent to your daughter. But the latter was definitely going to have a lasting effect on him.

He was going to reach out for you, but you turned your back to him. He had nothing to say now and this could be the last time you would be this warm and open with him.

Without uttering another word, he tapped on his watch to engage his suit before moving towards the window. A moment before he shot his webs to hoist himself away, you spoke one last time.

“You have Gabi for next weekend.”

He merely nodded at your words before he disappeared into the night, swallowing his frustration and disappointment. His web shooters echoed through the streets.

His mood drastically changed the moment he left your comforting apartment to the chaos of Nueva York— it was almost palpable.

His web shot out, catching onto the building he was aiming for. He landed against the wall with a gentle thud before he turned back to look at your apartment from afar. This was going to be the last time he could swing by your apartment through your window freely and his heart was already aching for you.

~

Miguel headed up to your apartment and rapped at the door. It didn’t take long before he saw Gabriella answering the door to him.

She had a duffle bag full of her clothes for the weekend and her phone was in one hand. He gave her a warm smile and kissed her forehead.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied casually.

Miguel’s line of sight went past Gabi and further into the house. You weren’t anywhere near the door.

He didn’t know what it was but Miguel felt a pull that was coaxing him to go to you. For a moment, he was conflicted whether or not he should see you. But eventually he caved in to his desires and stepped into the house.

“Where’s you mom?” Miguel asked.

“She’s in the bathroom taking a shower, I think,” Gabi replied before her attention was drawn into her phone screen.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Miguel padded over to the bathroom with cautious steps. It had been six months since your friendship had broken off, and he didn’t know what to expect when you saw him in your home.

His palms were sweating, and he could feel every pulse in his body. Part of him thrived off the anticipation that was building up to the moment but the other part was screaming at him to turn back and just leave you alone.

The bathroom door was ajar but the shower wasn’t running. He could see from the gap that you definitely weren’t taking a shower.

He found you sitting in the walk in shower with your knees tucked into your chest. You were wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He pushed open the door further so he could get a better look at you.

Your eyes looked foggy but he could still see the redness around the rim from crying moments earlier. It almost looked like you were in a dissociative state, and for a moment, he thought you didn’t acknowledge him until you spoke.

“Gabi’s stuff is at the front door,” you mumbled. Your voice sounded hoarse and wavering as if it took extra effort for you to speak.

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, keeping his response short so he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to open the door to more problems.

“So why are you here?”

Miguel didn’t know how to respond without eliciting a negative reaction from you. He didn’t want to tell you the full truth, but he also couldn’t think of an excuse for your question either.

He couldn’t leave your question hanging longer than it already has, so he opened his mouth to speak, even if he didn’t know what to say “I…was just checking Gabi got everything,”

The nagging urge to reach out to you, to touch you, was getting harder to ignore with each passing second he was in your presence.

Seeing you this vulnerable in the bathroom was tormenting and it was not something he was expecting to see. He didn’t know how to inquire about your well-being without sounding invasive.

“Are you okay?”

Clearly not. You shook your head mutely. At least you were being honest. Miguel cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s pathetic,”

“It’s not pathetic if it got you crying like that,”

Seeing you on the bathroom floor like this sent him back fifteen years earlier where you were in the same position, except you didn’t look so ghostly.

Both of you were holding each end of the pregnancy test, nervousness etched in both of your faces as you anticipated for the results.

Miguel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze feeling the clammy warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes remained glued to the test in front of you, time seemingly slowing to a crawl.

The moment you saw the double lines appear, you broke down into tears and sobbed into his chest from pure joy. Miguel’s heart stuttered as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

The news that you were going to be parents cremated his love for you even more. You couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t release him that night— your grip was like titanium.

He didn’t mind carrying you to bed though, the weight of you in his arms grounding him in a sense of euphoria that washed over him now.

Seeing you now, so different yet so achingly familiar, brought a lump to his throat. He heard your voice again and was brought back to the present.

“He…” the word was lodged in your throat. Miguel could feel a tinge of rage brewing in him with a mixture of his protective instincts. He knew you were talking about your current boyfriend the moment the word left your lips.

“He cheated,” you stated. Miguel's anger flared and he balled his fist tightly, struggling to contain the rolling emotions threatening to spill out. Even if he didn’t show his anger outwardly, you still knew him well enough to pick up on the signs.

“Please I’m begging you, don’t do anything rash. I’ll heal from this, but the last thing I want is you getting involved,” he heard your plea, and seeing your upset expression made him push aside his heated thoughts.

He was inadequate when it came to being your devoted husband, so what made him believe that he could be your hero in this situation.

He didn’t want to do anything that would further upset you; he had already overstepped your boundaries by trying to reconnect with you.

But now that you’ve broken things off with your boyfriend, could this be an opportunity to rekindle your friendship? Maybe something more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

His heart was trying to root him to stay but his intuition was tugging at him to go. It was clear that you didn’t want to talk about it further with him.

As much as it bothered him, there was nothing he could do. After all, you were a grown woman, and you were free to keep things to yourself.

You didn’t owe him anything even if he was your ex-husband— if anything that was probably more reasons why you shouldn’t share anything with him.

“I think I should be getting going, Gabi’s waiting,” he turned around and reached for the door, trying to conceal his disappointment.

“Wait—” you called out. He halted. “Are you planning to do anything later?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You asked meekly. He mulled it over for a moment. He suspected that you didn’t want to be alone after what you’ve experienced and he was glad that he was the one that could keep you company.

“If it would make you feel better, then of course,” his tone was warmer and his muscles relaxed at the thought of spending an evening with you.

There was still that underlying anger he felt towards you ex who had the galls to betray you like that behind your back.

But that was overshadowed by the newfound seed of hope that was planted in his heart— that things might get better between the two of you.

You rose up from the shower floor and washed your tear stained face before you both got out of the bathroom together.

~

Miguel felt the rush of wind brushing past him as he swung over from building to building to get to his destination. His movements were fueled by determination and yearning.

It wasn’t long until he could see the soft glow of your bedroom light filtering through the curtains. He paused outside of your apartment, contemplating how things would turn out. What was he doing here? What was he hoping to achieve? All he knew was that he couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried.

With a sigh, he slipped into the open window and pushed past the curtains. He found you settled on your bed with the bedside lap on. You glanced at him, showing that you had acknowledged him but you didn’t give him your full attention.

“Gabi’s staying over at my parents’ house,” you said dismissively. Part of him was glad that Gabi wasn’t around— he didn’t want her to witness how vulnerable he was right now and the tension between her parents.

“I’m not here for Gabi,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing.

The apartment felt different than normal— almost hollow even though nothing much had changed physically the last time he was here. Maybe the feeling was from the absence of warmth between the two of you

“Do you need me to patch you up again?” You asked incredulously, still not looking at him.

“I’m not here for that either,”

Finally, you look back at him, waiting to see what he had to say.

It took a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak again, but to him it felt like a lifetime. The words he had rehearsed mentally over and over finally spilled.

“I came here to apologise, for everything. I neglected you and wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I’ve hurt you,”

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out for a while. Your face was unreadable, blank of any emotion and Miguel couldn’t tell what was going through your head. There wasn’t even a twitch in your expression that he could pick up on.

“Now he says he’s sorry,” your voice carried a bitterness that threw him off. You climbed off your bed and took a few steps away, facing your back to him.

Miguel’s heart sank in disbelief.

“Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder now?” He climbed down the windowsill and stepped further into your room towards you. “Look, I know it’s a late apology, but I need you to understand how much I regret pushing you away. Please just hear me out,”

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You left me alone. You were never there, always busy in another dimension or saving the multiverse while our marriage fell apart.”

“I was trying to protect you!” His voice escalated in volume. “Everything I did, I did it for you and Gabi,”

“Protect me?” You scoffed. “By pushing me away? All you did was made me feel like I wasn’t important enough to fight for,”

Miguel gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration surfacing. “You think I didn’t suffer? Every time I left, it tore me apart. But I thought it was something I had to do,”

“You thought wrong,”

Suddenly all those gloomy memories came rushing to him like a tidal wave. He could see the images of your lonely silhouette sitting at the dining table, waiting for a husband who never came home.

The empty bed that felt colder each night he wasn’t there.

The guilt that had been lingering since the divorce now crashed down like a storm on him, suffocating him.

“I know I made mistakes and I didn’t prioritise our marriage. But I never stopped loving you, not for a second,” He said, his voice softened, almost in a pleading manner.

“Really?” You said, your tone cutting. “Did seeing me move on and go on another date make you suddenly come to your senses?”

Miguel’s jaw clenched at that. He didn’t like that you saw him that way but he couldn’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. “That’s not fair, I was trying to do what’s best for us. I didn’t want to hold you back,”

“You didn’t want to hold me at all, Miguel. Do you really think that you could swing by into my apartment and fix everything with an apology?”

“No…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before his voice lowered, “But I would regret it everyday if I didn’t try. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life,”

His mind was racing, remembering the warmth of you embracing and how you would fit perfectly together. “I miss the way we used to be, I missed the way you would melt in my arms, I miss coming home to you,”

“Kiss me,”

“What?” He gave you a puzzled look. “After everything that I’ve done to you, you want me to kiss you?”

“If you’re really sorry, you would kiss me,”

Miguel hesitated— his mind was conflicted, torn between his guilt and your command. For a moment he didn’t move, studying your face to see if you had an ulterior motive to all of this. Was this a test or a chance at redemption?

But eventually, he caved in and leaned in until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first as he was holding back from overwhelming you.

His lips slowly parted, and he softly whispered into your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”

He heard you moan softly in response and his chest clenched. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you just from a kiss.

His hands reached over to the back of your head firmly before his lips pressed hard on your lips, not wanting to miss a single moment of you were sharing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

You clung onto him, your kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to erase all the pain and distance between the two of you.

After everything you’ve been through, you’ve still had a tight grip on him, and it was killing him little by little. But he would happily give himself to you without a second thought.

He pulled away and his lips trailed over your jaw. All the hostility from you melted away as he continued to kiss over your face and neck. He could visibly sense the tension easing from your body as your breath hitched.

He pulled his face away from your neck to look at you in the eyes. “Needy,”

“Says you,”

“Yeah? I’m not the one who asked to be kissed though,”

“You and I both know that you wanted it just as much as I did,”

“Hmm maybe. Do you know what else I want?”

“I might have an idea,” you finished off your sentence by grinding your hips against his own. He let out a stuttered moan at the touch before a smile crept across his face.

So shameless.

He felt the heat creeping to his groin and translating to a growing erection. His dick was painfully hard now and you continued to grind your hips, using his erection to get more friction.

His face heated up when he heard your desperate whines. You were so needy for him right now and that was only stroking his ego.

He pulled away from your embrace and disengaged his suit with his watch to reveal his nude body in its full glory— his throbbing dick was the most prominent view.

He saw you gawking at the precum that was spilling from the tip— an amused smile played on your lips before you looked back up at him. “Look who’s needy now.”

Hearing your smug remark brought him a wave of nostalgia, something he missed when making love to you. But it also ignited something in him— a growing desire to take you and make you eat your words.

He grasped onto the hem of your silky nightgown and pulled them up so he could reach to your undies to pull them down. Swiftly, he lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist before effortlessly pinned you against the wall.

He knew he was being desperate and skipping most of the foreplay tonight, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you clench around him, his body will hate him if he delayed it longer.

Positioning himself against your folds, he could already feel your wetness paint his tip. You were soaked just for him and only him— just how it should be.

He pushed himself in and your mouth hung from the overwhelming stretch from his dick. Feeling the grip you had was almost enough to knock the winds out of him. He halted when he was halfway, gauging the sight of you.

A sense of familiarity washed over him when he saw your face warp while struggling to take him in. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth was agape, slowly drowning in the bliss he was giving you.

You let out a startled moan when he slammed the rest of him in with a lewd slap.

“Go slow…please. I need time to adjust,” you breathed, voice coming out staggered. He kissed the corner of your mouth in acknowledgment. He dragged himself out before rolling his hips in, keeping a steady rhythm so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

It was easier to feel and hear how wet you were with his slow and shallow pace. He had been yearning for this moment for too long and now that he could finally have you like this, everything felt more intense.

You were finally his again and it almost felt too good to be real.

He rested his forehead against you, watching through his hazy eyes how responsive you were to him and picking up every micro expression.

The room filled with your soft moans as he kept thrusting into you. Your labored breaths merged with your lips inches away. He could feel his peak crawling in and he made sure to reach the deepest part of your crevice before he unraveled inside you.

Having his release fill you up again was dizzying. Carefully, he put you back down onto your feet again and you leaned onto his chest for stability until you regained your balance.

He kept holding you close with his body pressing flushed against yours and catching your breaths in silence. A short moment passed before you looked up at him.

“Let me taste you, please.” You said. It wasn’t a question. Hearing the way you requested that in such a sultry way made his cock twitch and he was whipped all over again.

He could feel the heat rush to his cock and his erection forming. “You want a taste? How can I say no?”

He pulled himself away from you and perched on your bed, spreading his thighs to display is dick standing on its end. He let out a sharp exhale as he watched you go down on your knees for him and settled between his legs.

Miguel tensed when he felt your hand clasped around his length, grappling onto the bed sheet to steady himself. The after effect of his previous climax was still tingling and coursing through him.

“Easy…don’t overdo it,” he muttered, his hip stuttered slightly.

You look up at him and he could feel a new string of precum drawing out from the tip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,”

Your tongue grazed along the tip, and you were collecting your own wetness that coated his dick from earlier along with his precum. You were so eager and yet so gentle, it was overwhelming.

You were too good and it was getting to his head. Everything about you was enticing. You gave the head of his cock a few kitten licks and he let out a groan, his hand reaching over to the back of your head.

It took every fiber of him not to buck his hip and shove him all the way into your mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of your mouth around the tip. He let out another pleasurable moan, arching into your touch.

The sensitivity in his body continued to soar through him and the feeling of your mouth was enough to drive him up the walls.

You’re so good. How are you always so good at this.

More precum beaded up from his tip and gently leaked down into your mouth— he heard you hum from the taste. You lowered your head until you had his full length in his mouth.

His eyes fly open from the sudden sensation and he looked down to see you eying up at him. You carried a soft look in you eyes even while doing something lascivious. It was enough to disarm the coldest of souls; he couldn’t help but caress your cheeks right now.

“Eres tan hermosa en este momento,” he mumbled, still in a hazy trance. His nerves were firing and he threw his head back, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

Before he could register it, he was shaking and trembling when his orgasm came crashing down again. Ropes and ropes of his jizz squirted into your mouth. His eyes were unfocused, and it took him several deep breaths before he could find his voice again.

“Ay por dios…”

He still felt sparks from his high and his mind was absolutely buzzed. The lewd sound of you swallowing him down send a shiver crawling down his spine and his stomach fluttering.

His head dropped against the pillows from exhaustion, still panting. He felt the bed shift when you lie besides him and nussled against his chest.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he confessed, kissing the crown of your head.

“I can still taste you,” you teased. He responded lift your chin up to look at him and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. He was insatiable and he didn’t want to stop feeling your touch after having been deprived of it for so long.

He was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth and map out the familiar heat that he loved so much. The taste of himself was barely lingering in your mouth.

His mind was spinning from everything— the taste of your lips, the smell of your arousal and the sound of your low moans as he kissed you deeper.

All the little ways you responded to him was enough to give him the energy to turn you over on your stomach. His straddling on your back and his hard on sat at the base of your rear, between each globe of your cheeks.

“Hard again, eh?,” you quipped, turning your head to look at him.

But your demeanor quickly shifted when he began to push himself in, keeping his pace measured and slow. You started gripping and kneading the sheet from the feeling and muffled your moans into the pillow.

“Don’t hide from me,” he muttered, leaning in before his teeth nipped at your earlobe. You lifted your head from the pillow instinctively, letting out a startled noise.

He continued to slide himself in and out of you while simultaneously kiss along the curse of your neck from behind— each thrust was measured and calculated so you’d feel everything from him.

“Do I make you feel good, amor?” He moaned in your ear before he started to build a faster rhythm. Your noises became more urgent and he could tell you were desperately chase your high.

Each thrust pushed you further into the sheet. A guttural moan ripped from you as you clenched around him and reached your impending climax. He felt your come around him, taking him closer to the edge.

He pulled out momentarily, turning you around so you lied on your back and rested your legs on his shoulders. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare before he bottomed out.

He started thrusting inside you with little to no exit before hand. He didn’t pull his cock all the way but rather dragged himself slightly back before slamming back in relentlessly. The rough pace only milked more moans and sweet noises out of you, encouraging him to keep going.

Your voice was becoming frantic mixed with your moans and he almost missed when you spoke.

“Breed me,”

It took a moment for the words to register in your head and he felt his mind go hazy from your request. It wasn’t a question, but an order. You wanted this more than anything. His thought were filled of you, being bred by him and carrying another child and marking you as his again.

“Make me a mami again,”

This gave him extra motivation now. Each time, his thrusts became more and more sporadic and losing it’s rhythm. The bed creaked in protest from his pace. With one final stroke, he pushed as much of himself inside you and filled you up with your seeds again.

But he wasn’t done. He pulled himself away so he could slip two fingers into your swollen pussy. He gathered the remnants of your shared release onto the pad of his fingers before he held them near your mouth.

Pressing his thumb against your lower lip, he gently lowered it down and watched in awe as you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers in so you could get a taste and let out a low groan, feeling your mouth suckle on the cum that was clinging onto his fingers.

“Can you taste how good we are together, amor?”

He kept watching you intently until he slipped his fingers out and reached over to kiss your forehead. You look spend and your breathing became laboured.

Miguel perched onto the bed besides you again, gulping to moisture his dry mouth. He had spent so many nights alone, haunted by the nights of his decision that led to your divorce.

Being in bed with you alone, naked and drenched in the afterglow felt surreal. He didn’t think he would ever experience this again.

“Have I told you that I never stopped loving you,” he whispered with raw emotions. Even if he did already tell you, he wanted you to know that he meant every word. It was never about falling out of love but rather about protecting you and his daughter— his family.

Your eyes met his. “I know. But love wasn’t enough to keep us together,”

“I know that now. But I want to make things right, if you let me,” The air that was static with tension was now starting to flourish with new possibilities.

“I don’t know if things will be back to the way they were, but let’s take it a step at a time,” you kissed his mouth.

You pulled away and rose from the bed. “But I want to take a shower first, care to join me?”

He gave you a mischievous look and he was liking where this was going. “Lead the way, cariño,”

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@saintdiior @peachipeachy @xyziiix @mybvalentine @c4rm1son

@annavatar @scaryplanetdestroyer

You know normally in a situation where the character gets back with reader, you’d expect them to get all possessive and primal and whatnot. I didn’t want to showcase that dominant dynamics here. Not my cup of tea ewewew I kinda liked that I got reader to tease Miguel too and they still had their back and forth even after everything

Ayrus xoxo

[carbonfiction]

Loving him loudly

Warnings: none! Just a drabbled thought with a deep amount of soft fuff!

Masterlist | words: 533

Thinking heavily about loving Logan loudly. Bare with me here as i try to explain what i mean..

We talk alot about how logan would love, how at times its afraid and cautious (nervously even) but always deep, passionate and considerate.

However I feel we dont talk about what loving Logan would be like.. Much less Loving him loudly. Loving him unabashedly and undoubtedly, with your entire being. So much so its almost pathetic.

Heaven knows how long it took for those three little words to be uttered between you, first nervously, between shy and quiet glances before blossoming in actions, confidence and volume.

How it went from words whispered in the dead of night, two people wrapped in one anothers arms whilst everyone else slept sharing the most intimate of secrets, to broad daylight declarations in public over tea's and coffee's casual and easy.

Loving Logan loudly is never only showing your feeling mutely. Not just in keeping his cigar supply topped up or even doing his laundry with yours. Its more than cooking dinners, cleaning up together or brewing the other a drink in the morning. Never ever just in acts of service, physical touch or quiet affirmation.

Although you both offer those to one another regularly regardless.

Its loving him bold, proud and happy. Declaring those three words to him at every given chance like its the last words you'll ever be able to say. After all they had taken so long to be voiced, heard, felt.

You know he knows. Know he feels every single ounce of your fondness and affection for him. And in turn you feel his.

But Loving logan loudly is reassurance. Its looking into his eyes while holding all the broken and messily fixed parts of him cradled in your palms and telling him its okay with gentle smile and kind eyes. That Its okay. No matter what hes been through its always okay. The good, bad and ugly he knows follow him like ghosts dont matter to you, not really, just as long its him is by your side and breathing.

Loving him is finding unbridled comfort in the presence of another. It doesnt matter how either of you look, scared skin or soft. Well slept or kept awake.

Nor does it matter wether your wrapped in his large arms or simply wearing one of his shirts, tags hanging around your neck. big or small its pieces of Logan, pieces that had been collected so gently despite his roughness. therefore its comfort; and that is more than enough.

Its a vow to him. That no matter what happens or where you are, you are his. That he matters in a way so beyond himself and his person. It is him you need to come home to, to lay next to at night.

He is the only one able to bring such contentment and peace enough to fill your soul a thousand times over.

Loving Logan loudly is telling him "i love you" in the light, the dark, anything and everything in between any time and anywhere. Because you do, you love him more than anything you've ever known.

And you believe, so wholehearted and genuinely that its brought you to tears, Logan Howlett deserves to know hes loved. And my god does he deserve to feel it.

[linoyan]

Stressed..

˵˵ A BangChan x Reader fanfic!

˵˵ Warnings: Angsty at first, but fluff at the middle—end! Cursing too so watch out! Pet names Baby and Babe Mentioned! <33

˵˵ Chan gets angry at you for disturbing him in his studio and you didn't know he was working so early in the morning. </3

˵˵ First writing post!

"Chris?" You slowly opened the door of his studio's room, freezing as you saw he was working, producing a new song.

Chan looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his teeth gritted, clearly annoyed. "Y/N, what did i tell you about disturbing me during my work?? I need space, okay?" He let out a heavy sigh, turning back to his laptop to fix some mistakes he made before you entered.

"I'm so sorry, Chris.. I didn't know!" You quietly entered his room, staying meters away from him. The urge to hug him and calm him down was strong, but you knew better than to push his buttons.

"Goddamn it, Y/N, Get the hint will you??" He slammed a hand on his desk, fully turning to look at you. "What do you want?" He had a glare-like gaze, staring straight into your eyes.

You flinched as you heard the loud thud, "I just wanted to check on you, you didn't eat your breakfast and didn't even get a bite of the snacks i gave you." You looked at Chris with a concerned expression, Your voice filled with worry as you explained.

"Is that all?? Look, Y/N. A hungry person eats, am i eating? No! So I'm not hungry, please, leave me alone. You're so clingy and it's getting annoying." He hissed, turning back to his laptop to start working, he put on his headphones, straight up ignoring you.

You looked offended, sighing. "Fine, I'll leave you be, I'll be in the living room if you need me, okay?" Your gaze was still on Chan, looking at his laptop then back to him. He didn't even answer you, not even an 'Okay'. Gosh..

You exited his room, gently shutting it before walking back to the living room. That was when you started to overthink, "maybe i really was being clingy, was it a good thing? or was it bad?", "He was never this mad before, he looked stressed and agitated too." You let out a sigh and shook your thoughts away, deciding to just tuck yourself under the blanket and doze off in the couch.

Some time passed, Thirty minutes in, Chan decided to take a break. As he sat down on his chair, looking at the screen of his laptop, he then had a state of realization. His head dropping as he rubbed his temples, letting out a huge sigh as he thought about you. "Shit, i messed up." He quickly stood up and went out of his room, looking for you. "Babe?" He called out, but you didn't answer. He started to get anxious.

"Babe? Where are you??" He walked around, getting nervous like a lost kid in the mall, looking for his mother without a phone in hand.

He let out a huge sigh of relief as he saw you sleeping in the couch. He slowly approached your sleeping state and knelt down beside you, caressing your cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Baby, fuck.." He dropped his head down on the space infront of you. You fluttered your eyes open, taking in his stressed out expression and brought a hand to caress the one on your cheek.

"Chris? You're done?" You let out a lazy smile, your voice slightly husky. He immediately raised his head and frowned, "Not yet, Baby.." The silence you two shared for what felt like minutes were loud, but he was the first to speak up, "I thought you left me, Fuck.. I'm so sorry, Baby, I didn't mean anything i said, okay?" As he spoke, you let out a little sigh, you knew, no, He knew that you already forgave him but he still continued to apologize. He then continued, "You know I'd never say those things when I'm feeling normal, not stressed and-" You brought a finger to his mouth, shushing him. "I know." You said as you let out a giggle. His heart melted as he took in your little giggle, diving into you for a kiss.

This was the woman he loved, the woman who accepted every side that he had. You were the girl of his dreams, the girl that became his happy reality. "I love you.." He mumbled out as he broke the kiss. "I'm so glad that you understand me, I don't know what to do without you-" A sudden stomach growl stopped the romantic scene, he hid his face as he blushed.

You shook your head as you tried not to laugh, "Someone's hungry, come on, let's go." You sat up on the couch and helped him up.

Both of you walked towards the kitchen, he stopped to look at you as you started to heat up the food you cooked earlier. He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out another shaky "I love you.", You smiled as you turned your head to look at him, kissing his nose. "I love you too.".

End!

i honestly think this is a very common topic for a Channie fic but i really like this one so i continued it, i hope you all like it!! 🤎🤎🤎