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felixbit · 3 days

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employee discount, p2

pairing: jeongin x gn!reader w. 1.5k genre: fluff, coffee shop au summary: part 2 of this fic, where you learn jeongin, a cute barista, has been giving you the employee discount at the coffee shop you frequent. after giving you his number, you decide to give it a chance. warnings: none a/n: this was super fun to write! there will be a part 3 (maybe not immediately), and it will be the final part of this story! thank you for all the support on this story :)

Ever since you walked out of the coffee shop with Jeongin's phone number on your cup, you've been smitten.

You thought that the little crush you'd had on the barista was a normal thing for a regular to have at their local shop. A cute worker was part of the fun of going. It turned out, understanding that he was at least the slightest bit interested turned you into a maniac.

After getting his number, you saved his contact in your phone and shot him a text a few hours later (and many attempts at psyching yourself up to do it) briefly saying hi and who you were. His response was almost instant.

jeongin: hey! was wondering when you'd say something

Even just one message had your heart stirring and jumping to conclusions. How long had you kept him waiting for? You forced a response out anyways.

y/n: worried i wouldn't say anything?

A pause. His texting bubble popped up once, went away, and back again.

jeongin: a bit. y/n: i'm here now!

Now that the first hurdle had been jumped through, things seemed to flow a little more naturally. His conversations over text felt as cordial as talking to him behind the counter, so you got the feeling he wasn't faking interest when you'd spoken in the past.

Originally you'd sat down to have a quick text chat with him before doing the rest of what you needed to on your lunch break. Unfortunately for you, Jeongin seemed a little too interesting and time slipped by quickly. Before you knew it, your allotted time to eat and relax was over.

y/n: bad news jeongin: what's up? y/n: lunch break's over. didn't even realize we'd been talking that long jeongin: oh gosh, i'm sorry for taking up your time! don't go hungry because of me y/n: pay me back in coffee tomorrow? jeongin: deal

After sending that text and clocking back into your shift, it dawned on you that what you said sounded a bit like a date invitation. Surely he knew that just meant you coming in normally, right? Not that you would be against a date. You considered writing a text to clarify but decided against it to get focused on work.

Throughout the rest of the day, you were plagued by thoughts of Jeongin. Normally you'd think of him once or twice and a smile would come to your face, but multiple times an hour was starting to get excessive. He was just a barista, wasn't he?

Your shift finally came to an end. As you were going home, your mind was still buzzing at the promise of seeing Jeongin tomorrow. It was almost hilarious how excited you were to see the guy you saw almost every day of the week. It wasn't even going to be that different than how you always saw him.

You got to eat your lunch when you finally settled in at your apartment. Maybe it was eating and thinking that got your mind away, but you found yourself opening your phone and searching up the name 'Jeongin' on social media. It wasn't a surprise there were quite a few people in the area with his name, but you searched anyways.

As you scrolled, one account caught your eye. The profile picture seemed like it could be him but the username confused you a bit. "i.2.n.8"? His display name was Jeongin, and when you opened the account it was almost immediately confirmed it was him. Username aside, you began to dig into his posts.

He was just gorgeous. There was no other way to put it. Every post was taken in a way that looked like he wasn't trying but somehow turned out perfect. The entire account seemed to have an unintentional aesthetic and you just couldn't stop scrolling and zooming in on photos.

Against your better judgment, you followed him. It wasn't five minute before he followed you back and you saw a text message pop up.

jeongin: stalker much? y/n: guilty

That night was fun. Your text exchange lasted almost another hour before you decided to go out. It pained you to say goodbye but you knew it was best not to burn out on conversation before you saw him next.

The next day rolled around and you were way too nervous about going out. You put on a work outfit that looked what you thought was your best and made sure to look as exceptional as you could.

The time came where you had to leave your apartment and face him. The trip over to the coffee shop was short as usual and a little too calm for how you felt inside. You approached the doors and peered inside, seeing Jeongin behind the bar hard at work.

Gaining your strength, you opened the door and walked in. Jeongin peered up from his coffee he was making and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't contain the feelings that felt like they were blooming in your chest. Either way, you continued on towards him.

"Good morning," Jeongin said in a sing-song voice as you approached, not looking up from his work.

You peered over the counter to see the cream design he was pouring into the cup, "Good morning, what are you making?"

"Ah, a little frog. I saw a video of someone making it and I wanted to give it a try," Jeongin snickered as he finished and showed you, "Looks a little lopsided, though."

It was true that the frog wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly cute. "It's wonderful. I love him."

"Well, if you like it, I like it," He said as he slid the coffee out and called out the name for the order. A man walked up and took the drink, smiling at the design. Jeongin turned his attention back to you. "What are we getting today?"

The two of you walked over to the register just as you had the morning before, "The same thing I get every day."

You began to grab your wallet from your pocket and Jeongin held out a hand, shaking his head. "My treat today. Pay you back in coffee, remember?"

A free drink was hard to say no to. You stuffed your wallet back in your pocket as he input your order into the system and punched in something that took the total down to zero. Jeongin really was sweet, wasn't he?

As he broke away from the cash register and walked back to the bar to start your drink, he looked up at you. "So, you went and found my socials yesterday?"

Your face flushed a bit. Even though it was true, you weren't expecting to be put on the spot for it. "Well, yeah. Couldn't help it."

Jeongin smiled deep. He was looking down at your drink, but his dimples gave him away. "Why's that?"

Again, not an easy question to answer honestly. "Your favorite barista gives you his number, why wouldn't you look him up?"

"Okay," Jeongin nodded, "Did I hold up to your expectations?"

After finding his page the day before you ended up looking at it an embarrassing amount of times. "I liked it, yeah. Did you like mine?"

"Yeah, it was so you," Jeongin looked up and you noticed a small flush on his cheeks, "That's a good thing, by the way."

You couldn't help but laugh. He was so charming and sweet, but he still had a bit of that boyish charm. "Thanks, I'd hope it was," You said, "How's it going over there?"

"Almost done, you keep me distracted," Jeongin grabbed a lid and popped it on your drink, holding it over the bar for you to grab from his hand, "There."

You reached over and took it from him, your fingers slightly touching and your heart pulled a few somersaults. God, this was a high school crush all over again. "It looks perfect, as always."

"My pleasure," Jeongin wiped down the bar with a cloth. You saw him stop for a moment, his eyes trained on something and his breathing was a little hard. He looked up and met your eyes, "Would you want to go out sometime?"

Oh. Oh shit. Maybe his flirting was a bit overt, but the question still caught you off guard. You stood there shell shocked for a few seconds as your brain relentlessly tried to reboot and catch up. Realizing you needed to respond, you nodded a little too hard. "Yes, yeah, I'd love that."

Before you could cringe at your own words, you saw the brightest smile on Jeongin's face. You'd never seen him smile so hard, but it certifiably made your heart melt. He nodded and seemed to compose himself. "You probably have to go to work, text me later about the details?"

You checked the time, muttering a small oh shit under your breath. A bit behind schedule, but you'd get away with it. No part of you wanted to leave him now that you agreed to a date, but duty calls. "Yeah, you're right. I definitely will!" You said as you began to walk towards the door.

"See you later!" He called out from the bar as you opened the door and walked out. Oh, shit. It was happening!

#jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #i.n #i.n x reader #skz imagines #skz fic #stray kids imagines

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formulawolff · 2 days

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vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

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“it’s fine, mom. really.”

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure.

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.”

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do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake!

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.”

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo.

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.”

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will.

“where is dad? is he asleep?”

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan?

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?”

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers?

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.”

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel.

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.”

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks.

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.”

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you.

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent.

fuck, were you homesick.

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time.

you always did when it came to your parents.

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion.

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen.

you had to make that happen.

you had to.

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top.

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home.

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home.

this man was billionaire, after all.

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text.

from none other than toto wolff.

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door.

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter.

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you.

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival)

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers.

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race.

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair..

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind.

a crisp knock rang out, startling you.

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting.

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy.

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull.

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears.

this was really happening.

you were really staying with toto.

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.”

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness.

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual.

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows.

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up.

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest.

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?”

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll.

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?”

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold.

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay.

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you.

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there.

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back.

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind.

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole.

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress.

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back.

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you?

downright filthy. sinful, even

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on.

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread.

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him.

god, you were absolutely breathtaking.

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark.

you were so fucking beautiful.

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come.

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

could this moment last forever?

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god.

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure.

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you.

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words.

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you.

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through.

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching.

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia.

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth.

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two.

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god.

oh, fuck.

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space.

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure.

you unravel, coming undone.

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out.

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple.

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent.

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks.

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.”

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring.

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.”

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot.

well, not so little these days.

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?”

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears.

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision.

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts.

“i’m right, aren’t i?”

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head.

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?”

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings?

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper.

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm.

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?”

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished.

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision.

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision.

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season.

you were finally going to be by his side every day.

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel.

he had you.

you were all his now.

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth.

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

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #female driver au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen

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in-my-feels-probably · 13 hours

Note

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone.

��And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway.

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet.

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled.

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life.

None of them mattered.

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile.

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence.

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels.

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way.

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars.

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye.

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score.

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop.

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips.

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard.

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you.

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail.

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like.

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better.

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen.

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door.

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting.

The feeling was mutual.

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child.

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest.

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

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hellodropbear · 2 days

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like she used to

alexia putellas x sister

i have been writing this for ages and it has just sat in my documents folder since january. i don't usually post stuff i write so this will probably get taken down at some point. i've written 13k words so far but this is just the first 4k.

~~~~~~

I hadn't expected to get the call up, not at all really. But Mapi tore her meniscus and apparently the first team found themselves in need of a backup centre back and I was the best option from the B team. It's a compliment, really. Mami is very proud of me and she is excited for me and my sister to play together in a few weeks, even though she is still recovering from her surgery and I will probably not make it off the bench. I am only 15 and 10 months, usually they wait until you are at least 16 and a bit before you can play.

But, I don't really know how to feel. Thankfully Alexia won't be in training with me for now and I try to avoid thinking about what will happen when she eventually gets better and I have to face her again.

Alexia is my older sister by a lot. There's a 14 year age gap between us and I used to completely and utterly idolise her. She and Alba were two superheroes, always by my side when I needed them. I put them on a pedestal like they were the greatest human beings to ever walk the planet. To me back then, they were.

I was only four when my father died. All I remember from that time was the big black invisible sheet that hung outside his study and the dark and scary emotions that swallowed our house whole. Alba and Alexia would argue about who got to cuddle me at night and I was so unaware what was happening that I would happily agree, wiping away their tears when it all got too much.

The death of our father made our family unit stronger. Mami, Ale, Alba and Elena - it was all any of us needed and we supported each other in whatever ways we could.

Mami had to pick up more shifts at her job, so she couldn't pick me up from school. Alexia had just got her license so she would come in a break during training and pick me up in her training gear.

Alexia didn't have time to drop me off at home so I would sit and watch the training with whoever wanted to give me company when they were injured.

Most days, Alba would come and pick me up and take me on the bus all the way home. She would play cartoons on the TV as she sat at the table and did school work. Some days, when she had the time she would sit with me and watch Alexia's training and we'd all go home together. Alba used to say she enjoyed the training. Looking back, I think she just wanted a free ride home and an excuse to not do her homework.

As I grew up, everything just worked. Alexia and Alba were still living at home as a support to Mami and everything was perfect. My sisters were my idols, my Mami was my shining star. She still is. She would do anything for her daughters, as long as it meant we were all happy.

That is why it has been so hard for her over the past two years.

I have not been happy, not really. My football has been thriving, I have represented my country in the under 17 age group and I am a consistent starter idol the Barcelona B team. I spent two years in La Masia before they sent me to the B team last year and I have only been improving since. Everything is going well. Mami says I have had a better start to my career than Alexia did.

Maybe that is why Alexia hates me. Maybe Mami is just saying that to make me feel better about it.

Alexia and I, despite the 14 year age gap, were always inseparable - for the first 12 years of my life. She was at every single school event, football game, she picked me up from trainings when she could and would train me herself in the garden. We shared a common passion that Alba was not interested in at all - we both love football, we eat, sleep and breath it. Football is everything. She was the one who gave me that mentality.

"Football is life, Lena, you are lucky you are so good because now you also get to live football and hermanita, it is the most incredible thing."

She had whispered that to me when I was 11. We were sat on the beach, a place we visited frequently throughout my childhood, both of us staring out at the reflection of the moon on the sea. Alba was fast asleep, her head in Alexia's lap as she snored lightly, completely oblivious to our conversation.

It all fell apart over three years ago, although I don't have the first clue as to why.

It was not an explicit event that ruined everything, more my older sister growing up and flying the nest that was so secure and established over years and years of shared success, happiness, failure and grief. She moved out of home long before that, but her split with Jenni upset her, I think, a great deal. I wouldn't know because she didn't really tell me anything - that was strictly Alba's business.

I didn't even know they had broken up until 5 months after it actually happened.

"Mami, why does Jenni never come over any more?"

It was an innocent and normal question, but the look on my mother's face told me everything. Everything about Jenni and everything about my sister.

I think that was the first knock. She hadn't done anything wrong but I had loved Jenni and Jenni had loved me. I would have thought that she would have told me they broke up. Maybe she didn't want to, maybe she just forgot. She does a lot of that these days.

Before she and Jenni broke up, she still came to all of my games. She never missed one game before I transferred to La Masia and would insist on taking me out to ice cream after every one. She would tease me for not scoring like she does, even though I play as a centre back.

"You need some training from Mapi, she is a centre back and has the most lethal free kick, hermanita! She is the best defender I have played with, but don't tell her I said that. I think you will grow up to be better than her."

She was excited that day, I had made a few good saves and I think that was the first time she really saw that I had the potential to be great.

I remember the first game she was late to. I noticed immediately but we both pretended she was on time - she only made it to the last 10 minutes but I put it down as traffic or being caught up at training. She was busy, it takes a lot to be La Reina.

I remember the first game she missed entirely. She wasn't there at the beginning and she wasn't there at the end. I was 13 and I didn't have a phone yet so I couldn't call Mami and ask her to come pick me up because Alexia was too busy. I told myself it was because she was too busy. I didn't want to say she had forgotten because that was too hard for me to handle.

I remember vividly sitting outside the stadium as the sun set. My coach had asked where my sister was, I was a bit stuck with what to say but I managed to convince her I was fine and she could go home.

Alba came and picked me up after work that night. It was dark and she looked sad but when I asked if she was ok, she just shrugged her shoulders and said everything would be fine.

I found out from Mami a few weeks later that Alba was sad because I had never once been forgotten anywhere. Alba saw that as the destruction of our strong family. I suppose she was not wrong.

Alexia never said anything about that game but she was at the next. She didn't take me out for ice cream after, instead patting my head and telling me she would drop me off at Mami's work.

"I have things to do, Elena, I am very busy. Hopefully soon Mami will let you catch the bus on your own. Maybe Alba can take you soon so you know the correct routes."

Her words hurt more than I could admit to myself, I told myself to stop being pathetic. Mami asked why I was crying when I walked into her office. I told her I had played terribly and she comforted me. I think she knew I was lying. I think that is why she had tears in her eyes when she released me from her grip-like hold.

Since that day, Alexia has been to 3 of my games. She went to one more of my old club games but she was sat beside Alba, her eyes glued to her phone the entire match. I was so unfocused that the ball deflected off my face and we conceded. I was taken off with a bleeding nose but when I looked up in the stands, my sister was still staring at her phone. Alba had run down the stairs and was by my side when I entered the little sick bay.

I cried then too. Most people thought it was because of the bleeding nose or the conceded goal. Alba knew that wasn't the real reason.

The penultimate game she watched was the final of the under 15s Catalonia cup. I don't know what she did during the game because Mami told me not to look up. She said she didn't want me to get distracted but I think she meant to say she didn't want me to get hurt.

I think I still idolised Alexia at that point in time. She was still my older sister and she was still the best player in the world. She still had weekly dinners at home, although she wouldn't sit next to me and sneakily take all the food I didn't want off my plate anymore. She stopped staying to watch a movie after dinner even though my favourite part of the week was falling asleep in her lap as her hands combed softly through my hair.

I remember when I was accepted into La Masia, Mami held a nice big dinner. It was right in the middle of covid so it was technically illegal, but we had a lot of my family over. Mami invited a few of the Barcelona girls as well and Mapi and Leila reminded me of what it used to be like before Alexia stopped loving me.

The reminder of the before was more painful than I liked to admit, and the night ended when the tears that had been burning in the back of my eyes finally spilled out as I was talking to Mapi.

She immediately pulled me into her arms and asked what was wrong and I struggled to find a lie that would be believable.

I settled on saying I was upset about everything changing - which I suppose was true.

I remember Alexia looking mortified and breaking eye contact as soon as I looked at her. She told me off that evening when Mami was in the shower and Alba was talking to someone else. She told me I needed to be grateful for everything I have been given and that she paved the way for me.

It was even worse when she said I would never achieve the things she has. She said it was because I didn't have the mentality that she did, that I had it all so easy.

It hurt the most when she told me she was disappointed in the person I was.

"I hope we never share a shirt, Elena, because the day you play in the first Barcelona team is the day that we have run out of players. It will mean that football players are week and female footballers can not be weak. You do not have it in you to be like me, to do what I have done to get to where I am."

The venom in her voice sent a cold shiver down my spine and I felt like I had been stabbed. I didn't cry that time. I waited until I was in my bedroom to sob my heart out.

The last time she ever watched me play was the next day, but she didn't have an option not to. I played terribly, my first game as a La Masia student, my sisters words repeating over and over in my head.

That was really what tipped the relationship I once shared with Alexia on its head. The pedestal I had put her on was destroyed and suddenly she was just another player. I barely saw her as my sister any more. She couldn't love me, you wouldn't be able to hurt someone you love so much.

I have barely seen her since. She still comes to our family dinners on Thursday nights - she still very much loves Alba and our Mami. But I tell Mami that I have training with Barcelona B late on Thursdays. It finishes at 6 and dinner starts at 7, but I just organise to go to my friends' houses for dinner instead.

Sometimes we both have dinner together at home, but it is awkward and I hate it. I think she has probably forgotten about what she said to me in June of 2021, but I don't think I will ever be able to.

She doesn't like me, but it's ok because I have learnt to accept that. But I will never not love my sister because she was once everything to me.

~~~~~~

"Pequena Putellas!" Patri's excited shriek is what welcomes me into the dressing room on my first day. She tackles me into a hug and squeezes me tight. "It has been such a long time, mi favorita!"

The last time I saw Patri was only last year at the champions league final. I had sat with my whole family but I went to the bathroom when everyone else went and spoke to the players. I don't think Patri would have seen me.

I can only smile as she continues.

"I remember you as the little 8 year old who would sit and watch our training sessions after school! I was so confused by you when I first arrived here, you know. I remember the first time Ale let you play a game with us and you were so good!"

"Nobody doubted that you would be on this team one day!" A new voice entered the conversation.

"Marta!" I hugged the brunette closely. She was always one of my favourites.

"I am proud of you, pequena putellas."

Her words are familiar as I have heard them out of my mothers voice time and time again my whole life. But they seem foreign coming from Marta and it is an unwanted reminder of my sister. I don't know why - maybe it is because I have always associated this Barcelona team with her. I don't remember the last time she said she was proud of me.

I don't remember the last time she said anything to me, really.

"Gracias, Marta, I have missed you." I bury my head into her neck and she holds me closer.

"You have not been around as much since you transferred to La Masia. I wanted to come and watch but Ale never extended an invitation and I didn't want to overstep." I shake my heads at her words and she frowns.

"Alexia doesn't have time for my games, she hasn't for a while. It takes a lot to be La Reina."

Marta's frown deepens at my words and the attention of a few spanish players is captured. I should have spoken quieter, I forgot how many people in here speak catalan.

"It is ok, she is very supportive, but she just can't come to my games. She makes it up in other ways." I am lying through my teeth but Marta will never know.

"I am sure, she must be very proud of you, being selected in this team for the first time, it is a big deal, you are very young."

All I can do is nod, my energy is all being put into holding back my own tears. I don't know if Mami told her. I don't know if Alexia even knows that I was selected.

"Get changed now, I am sure Jona will want to talk to you before the session, especially with the game tomorrow."

I nod again as Marta pats me on the back and walk over to the cubby that says my name. It feels a bit surreal, really.

I never really thought I would see my name on a Barcelona cubby, accompanied by my new number that I chose in the meeting a few days ago. It was always a dream, but I never thought it was achievable. Alexia always seemed like a superstar, a superhuman of sorts and I would never reach that kind of level.

But here I am in the team that I always wanted to be in - in no way am I anywhere near my sisters level but I am on my way to being like her. I just wish she cared. I wish she was proud of me like Marta is.

Her cubby sits across from me and I try to tear my eyes from it but it sits and stares right back at me. I feel like an intruder in Alexia's space, this is not for me, she would not want me to be here.

I tie my laces quickly after that and head out onto the pitches to begin training.

I have trained with the first team twice before, but the Barcelona Bs were always slightly seperate and we could keep our distance from the first players. Jonatan is a familiar face and I feel comfortable as he smiles and me and motions for me to follow the others to the gym.

It is weird, being promoted within my own club. I am not so much a new signing, but a replacement - I am not good enough to be in the first team but they had no other options when Mapi injured herself.

I used to worry that people would say I only get opportunities because my last name is Putellas. When my sister told me I was weak all those years ago, that idea sort of cemented in my head, I suppose.

I never told my Mami what her daughter said to me because it would upset her. I told Alba half of it when she found me crying in my room a few days later but made her promise to not tell anyone. She couldn't say anything to Mami, Alexia, anyone at all because it would only make Alexia think I was weaker.

She was furious and tried to tell me it was untrue but it had already been said. I believed Alexia's word more than anyone else. To me, she was a superhuman.

But when I spoke to Jonatan a few days ago he made me feel like I was wanted within this squad. He made it clear that he wants me to integrate completely into the squad in the next few years and that he can see me playing soon even though I am only 15.

I told him I didn't want anything special because of my surname.

He told me that he chose me because of my first name.

"Elena Putellas," he said with a grin, "you may be as good as her, but you are not your sister. This is a professional environment. As long as you perform, which I know you will, nobody will care what your name is."

It was a big boost to my confidence.

Aitana Bonmati caught up to me quickly as I walked to the gym.

"You are big now." I chuckled but did not look over, I didn't need to really. "But not that big. You are only 15, si?"

"Yes, I am 15."

I met Aitana when she first joined the club. She always used to say that she would steal me and take me home with her because she thought I was adorable. It is strange that I am now sort of in the same team as her.

She started playing for the first team when I was 8. I was older then, I played my own football and liked staying with Alexia so I could kick a ball around with her teammates when they were done.

Aitana was one of the few who would stay every time I was there. When Alexia didn't want to wait she would drive me home herself, all the way to the other side of Barcelona. We would always stop for ice cream on the way home.

"I have not seen you in too long, Lena. I have missed you a lot but you have been doing very well in the B team. I am very proud and I take credit for your abilities." She spoke in such a dead pan voice but it was somehow still filled with emotion.

"I have missed you too, ABC." It was a nickname I gave her the first time she drove me home. I had been learning about the alphabet in English class and had the little song stuck in my head when she told me her full name. I used to sing her initials in the tune of the song but it quickly merged to me just saying the three letters.

"I have been to a few of your games, you know?"

I look at her in confusion, I have never seen her there. She just nods.

"Alexia never invited any of us but she was never at the ones I went to so I would sit in the stands with a hat and glasses so people wouldn't recognise me, but I was there. I went to your La Masia games as well. You have become a phenomenal player, Lena."

She has always spoken with such sincerity. I have missed her a lot.

"Maybe you can drop me off at home again tonight? I have missed you."

She chuckles and pulls me into a side hug.

"I was waiting for you to ask, little Lena. Oh you are not so little any more!"

I chuckle as well and let my head fall onto her shoulder as we enter the gym. My eyes scan the room, looking at all of the players on their equipment, nerves quickly settling inside me.

"Don't worry, it's all easy." Aitana seems to read my mind. "Just come with me and I will show you how to do everything. It will become second nature in the next few days."

The gym session went quickly as I was taught all the different exercises. I was familiar with most of them, having done a very similar program in the past with the B team.

We went out onto the field to do some drills and I played well. Jonatan was impressed and so were the first players. My teammates? Maybe, not quite, I don't think. I still haven't been in a team list, so I suppose I'll be their teammate when that eventually happens.

It wasn't until we reached the ice cream shop that Aitana started asking me all the awkward questions. I should have seen it coming.

"Why do you never come to our games anymore, Lena?" I was very grateful for the scoops of gelato in my hands. Eating it delayed my response as I tried to come up with something to say. I shrug as I eat.

I can not say it is because I do not get along with Alexia. It is too hard for me to say now, even after all these years.

"I'm not sure. I suppose I got busy with my own training and school. I have been to a few but I usually go home with Alba pretty quickly after they finish." It is only half a lie but she just shrugs, apparently not believing my words.

"And why is it that I am driving you home from your first ever first team training? I thought Alexia would have wanted to." I anticipated a question like this but that does not mean I wanted her to actually ask it.

"Alexia is busy." I hope that Aitana understands I don't want to talk about it. I haven't spoken about my broken relationship with my sister to anyone. I think she can sense something is wrong though, because she puts her spoon back into her ice cream and grabs my arm so I am staring right at her.

"If you ever want to talk, I am right here, Lena. I know you don't like people knowing what is going on inside that crazy head of yours but it is good to release your feelings."

She definitely knows something is wrong so I appreciate her not pushing.

"I have outlets, I play football, I play the piano, I am ok, aitana, I really am."

She eyed me as if to say she didn't believe me but dropped the topic anyway.

"When did you get so good?"

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas #putellas!reader #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni #fcb femeni #alexia putellas imagine

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 days

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Pairing : Yandere!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; basically a forced pregnancy ; late term pregnancy complications ; Minho is like, the worlds worst narcissist in this ; let me know if there's more ; Word Count : 6.9k A/N : The amount of research that I did for this one is crazy, but I also learned a lot so... building knowledge while writing fanfic is a plus! This request has been in my ask box for probably over a year and a half now, so... I hope that whoever requested it... I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was supposed to end WAY worse... But you all weren't ready to be sucker punched with sadness, so...) Request : Anonny : Pregnant with yandere leeknow/ yandere leeknow as dad Aaaangst

In The Beginning…

“Minho…” You called timidly from the bedroom, the way you called for him was about the same volume as when someone would talk regularly to a friend. When you spoke it was nothing more than a mouse-like whisper, always scared of what would happen if you raised your voice a little too much. Your doting boyfriend came into the bedroom, his hair tousled and wet from his shower, his eyes always seeming to carry a seductive look, dark and hungry for you at all times. “M-Minho…” You spoke his name again, this time more nervous now that he was standing in front of you.

A chuckle built in his chest as he sauntered over to you, water wrinkled fingers that were warmer from the hot water he had been standing under, trailed across your cheek, one finger slipping under your chin to tilt your head up as he towered over you. “Mm? What do you need, darling? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know that last night was quite… exerting for you…” He teased, and you felt your body heat up at the mention of the sinful activities you had taken part in the night before.

“Uhm… n-no…” You stammered, blinking a few times as you seemed to lose your train of thought constantly when he was standing so close to you, looking at you as if you were a delicious meal that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “We… We didn’t use protection and… Usually you’d get me a… a plan B pill and… I just was wondering if you had gone and… and gotten it by now?” You were always so nervous around him, still not quite sure what made him tick. One second he was happy, or at least he seemed happy, and then the next he was going through an outburst that had you locking yourself in the bathroom until he came to the door apologizing and giving you the same spiel that he would never do it again. You hated when things got like that, you tried to avoid getting him to that point at all costs.

“I decided you don’t need it anymore.” Minho spoke nonchalantly, as if he was the one who could make that decision for you. Your mouth opened to protest, and he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would give him a reason to lash out. It’s like he wanted a reason, he wanted to go off on you, like he enjoyed seeing you scared, enjoyed being the hypocritical hero when he comforted you after making you cry. “Think about how wonderful it would be, to have a part of me growing inside of you… you’d be mine, all mine. You’ll never leave me…” His hands moved down to your stomach, as if there was already something in there. “I’ll pick up tests in about 2 weeks, I want to be right here when you take them and read the results.”

The First Signs…

Sitting at the dining room table, the chicken still in your mouth after you had taken a bite, an awful sensation washed over you. A sort of sickness that you couldn’t fight back, and an urge to throw up that you couldn’t breathe your way through as you usually would. “Mm’scuse me…” You mumbled through the palm of your hand that was clasped over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, not even bothering to lock it as your body practically folded over the toilet.

“Darling…” Minhos soft cooing from the other side of the door had goosebumps forming on your skin. When he cracked the door open, you could see a rather excited smile beginning to spread across his face. “Are you alright?” The juxtaposition of his expression and his words made your head reel. He looked too happy for someone who had just watched their girlfriend throw up all of their dinner. You nodded your head in response, making sure the contents of your stomach were cleared out before taking a few steps to the sink and washing your face and then rinsing your mouth out with water. “I thought you loved that chicken… Hmm, I wonder why it would make you sick all of a sudden…”

He stepped into the bathroom fully now that you were done being ill, the nausea seeming to be completely gone now, as if it hadn’t been there at all. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and while it might seem that way, you weren’t ready to accept that it could be what he was thinking, you didn’t want to accept it. “I think they just changed the frying oil or something…” You excused, dabbing at your lips with a bit of toilet paper before exiting the bathroom, Minho right in tow. You couldn’t be pregnant, that would make him all the possessive, all the more obsessive and overbearing. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave, not that you were able to do that now anyway, but it would be so much worse. You probably wouldn’t even be able to look at the windows without him lecturing you. No… pregnancy wasn’t an option for you.

As you stood at the sink, getting a glass of water from the tap to wash out the taste, Minho stood behind you, his hands placed gently on your stomach. It was the softest he had ever touched you, but you knew that it wasn’t exactly for you, it was for the little demon spawn that he assumed was inside of you. “Does my baby not like the fried chicken? Hmm? Whatever you want, daddy will get it for you… As long as your mommy tells me.” How could he sound so sweet? It was gag inducing, how he pretended to be so caring when he was practically trying to hold you hostage using a potential child.

The next days were the same, the sudden nausea not even having the common courtesy to creep up on you, instead, hitting you full force, barely allotting you enough time to run to the bathroom or the trash bin to vomit. It didn’t matter what you ate, each day at the same exact time, it was always the same. You could see the light in Minhos eyes growing brighter each time it happened, but you were in denial, and you quite liked being in that state. You didn’t want to accept that there was a very real, very high possibility that you were now carrying his spawn. “I must be coming down with something…” You mumbled, resting your head in the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days. It was another sign, another symptom, you knew that, but you hoped that Minho would overlook it.

“Well it has been 2 weeks, more than that actually, my darling.” The smile that he was was nothing short of sinister as he ran to the bathroom and returned with two boxes in his hands. You knew this time was coming, you had been dreading it, hoping that you would get your period at any moment now. It never came though, and you were terrified of what the tests would undoubtedly reveal once you took them. “I’m sure taking them would answer a lot of your questions… Here…” He slid the boxes across the table, but you refused to even look at them, instead staring out the window, trying your best to block out everything that he was saying. You didn’t want to be pregnant, not by him at least. How could you even be happy bringing a child into this type of lifestyle? “Darling…” He murmured the pet name softly, but rough hands suddenly gripped your chin, turning your attention to him fully. “Take the tests. Now.”

You huffed loudly, pushing yourself away from the table and snatching the boxes up before rushing to the bathroom. You knew well enough that if you didn’t get there in time and lock the door, he’d probably try to come in and watch you take them just to make sure you weren’t fabricating the results. It would have been a good idea, but you knew he’d notice. There was no way you could just run the test under the sink water and pretend they were negative. It’s not like he’d let you go if they were anyway, he’d just keep trying and trying… and once you started showing… He’d probably be more pissed off that you lied to him.

“You’re taking quite a while in there… Do you need help?” The question was genuine, but you glared at the door, knowing that he wouldn’t see it. It was the only time you could make those kinds of faces at him without being reprimanded for it. The tests laid on the back of the toilet seat, and much to your dismay, the second line showed up faster and darker than you ever expected it to. “Fuck!” You thought to yourself as you unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open, slipping past him as he rushed in. He was too preoccupied with being excited over the tests to focus on you, at least for right now. All you wanted to do was sleep and hopefully wake up from the nightmare that you had been living in for the last 3 years.

The First Trimester…

There was no bond forming. For the most part, you tried to forget that you were pregnant at all. It was easier during this stage. Other than the nausea and the exhaustion and the slight pulling and pinching sensations you’d feel in your lower back and upper thighs, all things that you could write off as any other reason, you didn’t feel pregnant. You were still in denial, you didn’t want this. Minho wanted this, and he was the only one happy about it. This was the happiest you had seen him though, he was absolutely elated, but he was also overly protective, which was becoming a real pain in the ass.

“I can get dressed on my own.” You muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you pull down your shirt after you had just put it on. “I really don’t like the hovering, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Were you allowed to be honest with him now? Would he excuse it as your hormones going crazy because of the baby? He wouldn’t yell at you, right? Not when you were in such a fragile state. He reached out further, grabbing your wrists, rather tightly, and pulled you towards him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare try to be so rough anywhere around your stomach, but everywhere else was still fair game.

“You’re carrying my child, and as long as you are, I can hover as much as I like.” He hissed, and even though you didn’t like his tone, you were grateful that he wasn’t yelling. “I know you don’t want it. You’d probably be overjoyed if you miscarried. I won’t allow that to happen though, so just be good for me, let me help.” His expression immediately shifted, his head tilting to the side as the most innocent looking smile had his teeth flashing up at you. It was like whiplash, it made your head hurt. “So what would my babies like to eat today, hmm? Are you craving anything in particular?” He cooed, although his attention was still primarily focused on your stomach.

Any other woman would want a man like him, a man that treated them this way and got this excited to find out they were pregnant. Any other woman could have him and all of his psychopathic tendencies. “I’m craving a nap.” You snapped, and you watched his nostrils flare out at your disobedient tone, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting off the bed and yanking the covers back for you, waiting for you to climb onto the mattress before carelessly throwing them back over your body. “Thank you.” You mumbled, rolling over onto your side so that your back was to him, tucking the covers around your chin and squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just the raging hormones that tired you out, it was Minho too, him more than anything honestly. Living with him, well, no, not living, being stuck with him, was the most exhausting thing ever.

“I’ll wake you up for your vitamins and for lunch.” He said sternly, more like a strict caregiver than the father of your unborn child. You hated him. You hated that he did this to you, that he chose you to be the object of all of his desires. Why did he choose you? He still hadn’t told you why, he just insisted that you were the one that he wanted. Now you were carrying his child, and you feared that you’d truly be stuck with him forever. What did you do to deserve that?

The Second Trimester…

Most women would get an ultrasound at around 9 weeks. However, you had yours at 20 weeks. You didn’t go to a doctors office, instead, Minho had the doctors come to you. Even still, he didn’t want you leaving the house. Before the doctor was even allowed to see you, he had to sign an NDA, with Minhos reasoning being that he was an idol, and he didn’t want the public to know about his fiancées current condition. You still didn’t know when you had gotten engaged, but apparently it had happened at some point before the doctor's arrival.

Seeing your baby on the screen made it impossible to deny that you truly were pregnant. It also made it hard for you to hate it as you during your entire first trimester. Was it truly the baby’s fault that their father was crazy? Did it’s fathers behavior make the baby inherently evil? No… of course it didn’t. The baby was still a part of you, and you were a good person. You wouldn’t allow your child to grow up to be like Minho. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, pointing to the screen as if you’d understand what you were being shown, but Minho was mesmerized by what he was seeing, his jaw slacked in awe.

“That’s my daughter… Our daughter? Really? Is she healthy?” It was Minho asking all the questions that most women in your position would be asking. You were too caught up in your own thoughts though. A baby girl, you were carrying his daughter. She’d be more like you, right? Maybe having a daughter would change the way he is, he’d become normal, a man that you could actually love and welcome having a family with. He wouldn’t want his own daughter to be with a man like himself, right?

The doctor turned up the volume on the little tv, a rapid pulsing sound filled the room, both you and Minho were silent as you listened. “She’s healthy, very healthy.” The doctor said, smiling to both you and Minho. You were… happy. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the screen, watching the baby squirm around, and you couldn’t wait to be able to feel her moving beneath your skin. “I’ll print out the pictures and then be on my way. I’d like to make another appointment for next month though, make sure she continues growing the way she should. I also want some bloodwork from you…” He motioned towards you, and you swallowed thickly, looking at Minho who looked slightly annoyed at the doctor's pushiness. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, we just like to make sure that there’s no underlying problems. Better to be safe, right?”

His words had you tensing up, your hands moving down to your stomach, rubbing over the small swell that had begun to form as your daughter grew bigger. “Why… Why would there be underlying problems? What could be wrong?” You squeaked out, not wanting to look up at the doctor, worried that his expression would give you a silent answer, one that you were scared to know. Minho was still, like a statue, only his eyes moving between you and the doctor, but there was no answer, just a soft sigh and a gentle tapping against your hand to try to calm you. The gesture was supposed to make you feel better, but you heard Minhos teeth gritting together.

“It’s just precautionary. This is your first appointment since you’ve gotten pregnant. It’s to make sure both you and the baby are healthy and that there are no problems now or in the future. From what I see though, you and your daughter are perfectly fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Your hand was held lightly by the doctor who offered you a reassuring smile, but before you could thank him, Minho was, quite rudely, ushering him out of the room and shutting the door. On the other side of the door, in the hallway, you could hear Minhos aggrivated voice, low enough that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could feel it, reverberating through the walls and the floorboards. He was talking so fast that the doctor didn’t have a chance to speak, and before you knew it, the front door was slammed shut and then Minho was storming back into the bedroom.

“Touching you… Holding your hand… Who the fuck is that guy?!” Minho growled as he shut the door behind himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door. “You don’t need any more fucking doctors. You were doing just fine without them. There’s nothing else we need to know anyway. Our daughter is healthy and that’s what matters. There’s no need to have some touchy ass fuckwad coming in here, looking at you… Ugh!” You could see the heat radiating off of him, he was beyond angry, he was absolutely irate, and while you didn’t want to push him any further, what the doctor had said prompted you to speak up.

“Min… Honey…” It was an attempt to soften him up, you never called him that, not unless you were trying to get him to agree to something. Most of the time it never worked, but it at least would keep him from going off as rashly as he would without the pet name. “What if there is a… a problem… I think we both should know. We don’t need to keep him as our doctor… We can find someone else… But I think the bloodwork is important.” You sat up on the bed, trying to get a better look at him, trying to read his expression, but he was completely blank. “Minho…” You tried to get his attention, unaware that you already had it fully and he was just deep in thought.

“No…” His hand was held out, one finger up to silence you as a chuckle was huffed out of his parted lips, his breaths coming faster and faster as he pushed himself away from the door. “I know what you’re doing. I know what this is…” The pet name didn’t work, nothing would work, he was already angry as it was and you were simply making things worse. “You want him to come back… You want him to take you away from me. That’s what you want. I know you! You’ve wanted nothing but to leave since you’ve been with me! He can’t have my fucking daughter! And he sure as hell can’t have you!” He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and holding your face between his hands. It wasn’t exactly painful, maybe you were numb to the pain it might have caused at first, but now you just found it annoying. “What do I need to do to make you stay!?” He shouted, his breath fanning across your face with every word. It’s like he was using all of the air in his lungs to enunciate every syllable.

“Minho, stop it.” You whispered, knowing that the wrong word, a wrong look, saying it in a way that he didn’t like, it would only have him spiraling deeper and he’d drag you right along with him. “Please… h-honey look at me… I’m not trying to leave you… I just want to know that me and the baby are healthy, that there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us… I want her… Honey, I want a family with you…” Sure, you were really sugarcoating it to try to get him to calm down, but you also really needed to know that everything would be okay. The last thing you wanted was for something to happen to you and him blame your daughter for the rest of his life or vice versa.

His hands dropped down to your shoulders, his body now shuddering, although you didn’t know if it was because he was about to cry or if he was just shaking with anger. It was always hard to gauge his reactions or how he was truly feeling. It had you on edge all the time, and you felt like a tiny rodent, cornered by a feral cat. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you…” He mumbled, his head hung low, his hair curtaining his face. “Stupid fucking doctor, putting that shit in your head, scaring my darling…” This wasn’t what you wanted, his anger once again shifted towards the doctor who was just trying to do his job. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you and our baby?” You shook your head, of course he wouldn’t let something happen to either of you, not because he cared, but because he couldn’t fathom the thought of not owning you anymore. “You’ll be just fine, darling. You’re overthinking what that jackass said.” And with that, it’s like all of the anger washed away, a sudden wave of calmness rinsing him clean of the negativity. “Let’s get something to eat. My girls are hungry, aren’t they?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before shifting off of you and off of the bed, grabbing your hand and carefully helping you up to your feet. The sudden shift had you feeling dizzy, but it was welcome, at least he wasn’t yelling at you.

The Third Trimester…

Something was wrong, although you weren’t sure what it was. The ongoing nausea, the headaches, the blurred vision, you knew there was a problem. All you could think of was the argument that you had almost 15 weeks ago, wanting to at least have bloodwork done to make sure you were okay, but of course Minho had denied you of the simple procedure. If anything happened to you, it would be his fault, but he wouldn’t look at it that way, no, it would be someone else’s fault, it always was whenever he fucked up.

“Someone’s tired…” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom where you were still laying. It’s not that you were actually that tired, you just couldn’t move without feeling sick. When he pulled open the curtains, you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning loudly as the bright sun only amplified the raging headache you were already suffering through. “Sorry, darling. Can’t lay in bed all day. Gotta get you up and moving. Come on.” He yanked the covers back and his eyes landed on your feet which had become so swollen you could barely even fit them in your slippers anymore. “What happened?” He whispered, although there was a slight panic in his voice as he gently grabbed your ankle and lifted it, looking over the extremity for any signs of injury.

“I think… I think…” You kept starting the sentence only to be left practically winded after only saying two words. “Problem…” You settled for one word, hoping that it would get your point across and that he’d take some kind of action. He blinked a few times, backing away from the bed, his hands running through his hair as he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. “Please…” You pleaded, your hands cradling your swollen stomach. If not to help you, at least to help your baby who he seemed to want more than anything.

“Shut… Shut up! I’m thinking!” He screeched, suddenly pacing back and forth as his breaths came out sharply, sounding more like whistles as they came through pursed lips. “Why would you let this happen! What even… God dammit!” He shouted, his fist colliding with the wall in an act of frustration, and even though he was fully across the room, you jumped at the sudden act of violence. He would never hit you, no matter how mad he got he had never actually hit you, but when things got this bad, you always feared just how far he would go or how far gone he was. “What am I supposed to do?! Take you to the hospital?!”

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he was supposed to do to keep both you and your daughter from potentially dying. “If I could just… have her… get her out… we could be… okay…” You said breathlessly, and he whipped around in your direction, his eyes wild and crazed. It truly seemed like he was losing his mind. “Min… I don’t want t-… to die… please…” You begged, the sudden onslaught of tears only making it harder to breathe.

“Fuck! You think I want you to die!? You think I want that!?” He questioned, and soon his hands were back in his hair, tugging at the ends as he let out a loud scream. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it! It’s what you wanted to happen! You wanted to leave me so bad! You’d rather die than be with me!” He was once again blaming you, yelling at you for something that you didn’t even understand at the moment. You didn’t know what was happening, so why the hell was he attacking you for it? “Such a fucking bitch! God! Fuck! Get up!” You were being… belittled… insulted… cursed at for… dying? At least if you did die, you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But did you really want to leave your poor baby with someone like him?

Getting up was a daunting task, it took you longer than it usually would just to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Every small movement made you feel like you had run a marathon, your breaths becoming more labored, your vision becoming spotty, and the urge to vomit became more of an oncoming threat as the bile from your otherwise empty stomach rose to your throat. There was no time to get to the bathroom, you weren’t even on your feet yet, and before you had any time to even warn Minho, you were doubled over, heaving up the acid that burned your throat on its way out. He watched, not coming close or helping you, but he watched, his lips parted and his eyes blinking rapidly as if what he was seeing wasn’t true. “Sorry…” The word was spoken in a single raspy breath, your head hung low with both shame, embarrassment, and pain. Your throat was scratchy now, and it felt like fire was being held against the back of it. Tears pricked your eyes and snot ran down your nose, stopping at your upper lip, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe that away.

“What happened…?” He asked, his voice once again soft, laced with the false tone of worry. It used to make you think he cared, but now you knew it was an act. It was all an act. “Let’s… Let’s go…” He said, his voice wavering. He truly didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to do this. It’s not like he had a choice though. You looked awful, like you were already standing at death's door, and that terrified him. He had seen you sick before, but he had never seen you like this. “C-Can you walk? Do you need… Uhm… Shit…” He was tripping over his words, but when he saw you try to get up on your own, he rushed over, his arm wrapping around you.

Looking at you this close, he could see that your face was swollen too, and beads of sweat lingered on your forehead. “She hasn’t moved… Min… I’m- I’m scared…” You whimpered, and he pulled you closer to him, letting your body fall against his side, trying to take all of your weight as he walked you towards the front door. “Min…” You breathed out his name, your head falling against his shoulder. He hummed to let you know he heard you, grabbing everything he needed with one hand as he walked through your shared apartment. “If you have… to save any of us… save her… save the baby…” You wheezed, all of your weight falling against him, everything that he had been carrying was dropped immediately to catch you.

“No… no no no! Stop talking like that! Stop it!” Minho shouted, his voice trembling from the sobs he tried to hold back. “I’m not losing either of you, dammit! I-…” He sniffled softly, and while your eyes had been closed the entire time, trying to block out the light that shone through the window in the living room, you could feel his eyes on you. “I love you… You know that, don’t you? I’m not… If anything happens…” The thought was stopped before he could get the words out, but you were stuck on the three words he had said prior. Love was such a strong emotion, you hadn’t felt loved the entire time you had been with him, and he had never said it before now either. Did the thought of you being gone forever make him change? If you did make it through, would he go back to the way he was before? Maybe death was the only escape…

I’ll Make You Stay…

There was no way the doctors would make him choose… It couldn’t be that serious. You were absolutely fine, right? He hadn’t noticed anything wrong until today… or were you just that good at hiding things from him? Why would you hide something like this from him? Were you afraid of him? Why were you scared of his love? He just loves you so much! What’s wrong with that? He wanted you to be with him forever, he wanted you to be his darling, why did you make it seem like that was so awful? He’d show you that you could be happy, that he could make you happy, you just had to stay with him, you had to stay.

“Why can’t I go in?” Minho asked once again to the nurse who slipped out of the room. Each time he said it he was more irritated than the last. He just didn’t understand. What could be so wrong that he couldn’t be there for the birth of his daughter? Every time, the nurse would just sigh, getting more agitated with him. “I’ll just go in then. You can’t keep me from seeing her. That’s my wife, that’s my daughter! If you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just-“

The nurse cleared her throat, although it sounded more like she was groaning. He tried not to let it bother him the way it usually would. He had far better, far more important things to worry about than the bitchy attitude of the nurse. “She didn’t want me to tell you. I’m trying to respect her wishes. She wanted to be alone.” The nurse explained, but it only stirred up more questions in Minhos now overactive mind. What was the reason behind you wanting to go through this alone? Did he not have a say in being able to watch his daughter be born? It was unfair, and once everything was over with, he’d be having a talk with you about how rude and humiliating it was for him to sit out in the hallway while you were delivering his child. He opened his mouth, not even to speak, just to breathe, and the nurse started talking, as if she assumed he was just going to continue complaining. “Both of them are not well. The last thing I wanted to do was go against what could possibly be her last wish. Are you understanding now, sir?”

Your… last wish? It sounded like you were dying… It couldn’t possibly be that bad… Is it? Why would you want to be alone during a time like this? How could you leave him this way? Do you not even care about his feelings? It’s like you want to make him miserable! All he wanted was to have a family with you, to make you stay with him forever, and now you’re trying to get away by dying!? You were so selfish! Why couldn’t you just be healthy?! He had done everything right. He made sure you ate and had your vitamins and did daily exercises and that you always got enough sleep. If anything happens to you and the baby… It would be your fault! It would all be your fault!

“An early blood test would have shown that this was a possibility. It would have potentially kept this from happening. If she was getting proper appointments, this would have been caught before it got this bad. Who was her OB?” The nurse asked, her clipboard resting against her forearm, her pen held in her other hand, as if she was waiting for the information to jot down. The mention of your doctor had his mind pausing for a split second… This is why you needed the bloodwork done? Why had no one told him that back then? Why was he not informed of the risks that would come along if the bloodwork wasn’t done? This still wasn’t his fault though… No, the doctor should have talked to you and him more about the benefits of getting early bloodwork done.

It was the doctors fault… If he hadn’t been so touchy with you, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him to come back and do the bloodwork. It was all the doctors fault, and if something were to happen to you or the baby… Minho would make sure that the doctor paid for it. He told the nurse the doctor's name, trying not to let his smile break through the mask of sadness that he was wearing, but it was hard. The thought of getting that guy to potentially lose his job, it was nice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little… overjoyed, knowing that if anything were to happen to you and the baby, it wouldn’t be in vain, at least the doctor will suffer as well. “I guess I’ll… wait out here…” He said, the frown once again returning to his face as he dropped down into the chair beside your door. It was still hard not being in there with you, knowing that so many people were looking at you, touching you… He felt like he was going to lose his mind, and the only way that he was keeping himself slightly sane was by constantly telling himself that he could potentially lose you and his daughter if those doctors didn’t help you.

He was in and out of sleep the whole time, his head falling against the wall and his eyes drooping shut, only for them to shoot back open whenever an alarm would go off, looking up at the light above your door to make sure it wasn’t for your room before drifting back to sleep once more when he realized it wasn’t. It had been hours, he finally stopped counting after the seventh, when the door finally opened and one of the nurses, different from the one before, walked out. There were dark circles under her eyes, she looked frazzled and exhausted, but there was no urgency, there was no sadness… Was everything okay? Would he be able to keep you and his daughter? “Sir…” She started, and Minho sat up straight, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at the nurse. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, I don’t want you to get excited just yet… Although your wife and the baby are… alive… That doesn’t mean that things are… okay.” It was like all of the hope was drained from his body immediately, even after hearing that you were alive… How could you still not be okay?

“Well… what’s wrong? What happened? I mean… I need some information here!” He was trying not to get worked up, but the way the nurse seemed to be beating around the bush was highly aggravating. For Christ's sake, he’s your boyfriend, the father of the child, and she was talking to him like he was some nobody. He deserves… No, he needs to know what happened! “How is she not okay? Is the baby okay? Come on, tell me something, dammit!” He didn’t care if she was tired, or if she was emotionally worn out after helping you. That’s her damn job, and part of it is telling him what the hell is going on.

She sighed loudly, clearly not happy with the way that Minho was talking to her, but he didn’t really care for that either. He wasn’t even allowed in the damn room, the least she could do was tell him what had gone on while he was locked out in the hallway. “The mother had preeclampsia which advanced to class one HELLP, which I will not go into full detail about, a simple google search will tell you what it is, but I will say that she had the most severe case of HELLP that I have ever seen in my years of working here. We were at a point where we worried that we would have to choose whether she lived or the baby lived. She had to have blood transfusions before we could even deliver the baby, she was in the early stages of kidney failure, and while we were in the process of trying to help the mother, the baby went into respiratory distress. We had to do an emergency c-section, which wasn’t easy because we were worried about hemorrhaging, which did in fact happen. The baby is currently in the NICU, she is underweight, we have to do tests to check her platelet count, she’ll most likely be in the NICU for a couple of weeks, and that’s minimum, especially if her platelets aren’t normal. The mother needs to stay because we have to make sure she doesn’t have any other underlying health issues, and we need to monitor her closely because the first couple days after delivering a baby with HELLP syndrome could be fatal. So yes, the mother and the baby are alive… But they are in no way, shape or form, okay or healthy enough to come home anytime soon. Does that answer your questions, sir?”

Minho didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand anything that had been said to him, all he knew was that it was bad and that you wouldn’t be going home with him. How could you let things get this bad? Why didn’t you tell him? Surely you must have felt ill or something when this was all going on? And that damn doctor… Why did he have to touch you? Why did he have to make him so angry? If he had just been a normal doctor, he would have been allowed to come back and do your bloodwork. This all could have been avoided! It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t! How was he supposed to know that something like this could happen?! He had never read anything about this online! He didn’t know something like this could happen! It wasn’t his fault!

“Anyway…” The nurse spoke once more, taking Minhos silence as an opening. “She’s resting, they both are. There’s going to be doctors in and out of the room constantly, so, if you’d like to go in there, you can, but I wouldn’t expect to get any rest. If I were you, I’d honestly just go home, get some sleep, and come back in the afternoon. They’re not going anywhere, it’s going to be a long road ahead of the both of them… And you need to get as much rest as possible to prepare for it.” And with that, she walked away. He was left alone in the hallway with his thoughts, the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping just beyond the closed door to your room was the only sound he could really focus on.

You were alive… You had stayed… You weren’t leaving him. He would have his family, and he would have it with you, his perfect darling. Nothing like this would ever happen again, he had his baby girl, and he had you. The two of you were all he needed. Once he had you and his baby back home, he’d make sure he never had to let you out of his sight again. You were going to stay with him, he would make you stay. That’s why he wanted the baby in the first place, and in the end, he still got exactly what he wanted.

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wonuwrites · 3 days

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Seventeen's Reaction When You Can't Sleep At Night.

Anyone else having a rough time sleeping lately or is it just me? Past few nights have been rough so I thought of this little thing. Also was inspired to write this based off the song "When You Can't Sleep At Night" by Of Mice And Men. Hope y'all enjoy it.

Warning: mentions death of a loved one, anxiety, nightmares, fluff/angst in some places, minor cussing, fairly sfw but Dino's is a bit suggestive so MDNI, oh also some pet names like: Sweetheart, Baby. Love, Babe, idk the cute names and shit lmfao.

☾ S. Coups:

Your mind was racing and you couldn't help but stare up at the ceiling. You felt a bit guilty because you kept tossing and turning when you were attempting to fall asleep. Seungcheol who was next to you didn't say anything but you made him turn slightly as well while keeping his arm loosely around your waist. He was sound asleep and truth be told you envied him. You wish you could sleep like him. As if he could hear your envious thoughts, you felt his lips on your shoulder before he pulled you closer to him. "Still awake, sweetheart?" You nodded before turning over to look at him. He kissed you and pulled you closer to him. He'd ask you what was on your mind and would do everything in his power to help you sleep. He wouldn't even close his eyes until he knew you were asleep for sure.

☾ Jeonghan:

You made your way into the kitchen to get a cup of water. You were almost 80% convinced that sleep was not going to happen that night because a random bout of anxiety was just eating you alive. What was the anxiety? You had no fucking clue but it just kept nagging at you and you hated it. You just felt so small and you couldn't find your center. You remember a luke warm glass of water used to help one of your friends back in high school so you decided to try it. You only took a sip before tears threatened to fall which made you take a shaky breath. You leaned against the kitchen counter and tried your best not to breakdown but that didn't work to well. Soon you just let it out. You didn't know how long you were there but you felt someone come up behind you and pull you into his embrace. Jeonghan noticed you were taking awhile to come back to bed and decided to look for you. When he found you crying in the kitchen he felt his heart break into a million pieces. He wanted to give you space at first but also felt that you needed someone at that time so he just came and hugged you. You started to cry into his chest harder which he just rocked you until you were done and ready to talk about it. Sleep could wait.

☾ Joshua:

The first few nights after Jisoo left for tour or various schedules were the worst. You had become completely reliant on him and needed to feel his side of the bed had something in it. You had done everything to make it seem that way with adding weighted blankets, books, or even a pet. Nothing worked long term and tonight you felt it. You thought maybe you could gaslight yourself and get some rest that way but no. Nothing was working. Your eyes were tired but the rest of you was not. You decided to scroll on social media and watch fancams of him and hope that would help and it almost did until Jisoo decided to shoot you a text to let you know that he had just got to his hotel. Instinctively, you called him which made him nervous and confused. It was nearly 2:30 am in where you were and you were awake? Before he could even scold you in concern you told him you couldn't sleep. His heart would hurt a bit because he knew that you struggled sleeping when he was not there. He just stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep. Even then he stayed on a little longer just to hear your breathing. "I'll be home soon, (Y/N,)" he would whisper, "I love you, always."

☾ Jun:

You had a huge project coming up at work in the next week and you were struggling to sleep. Jun didn't realize how bad it was until he stayed the night and noticed you were no longer snuggled into his side. He walked around the house while rubbing his eye trying to find you but it was as if you vanished. He almost gave up until he found a light under a closet door and he found it weird. He knocked on the door while whispering your name which made you gasp in shock. Before you could hide the evidence of papers everywhere Jun opened the closet door and looked at you with an emotionless face. You looked down embarrassed which made him sit down on the floor across from you. He would slowly gather the paperwork, and when you tried to protest he would just shake his head. "Baby," he would whisper, "tomorrow is your day off, how about we practice your project tomorrow after a good night rest?" You tried to protest again but he just looked at you with a pleading look. You would then feel guilty before nodding and looking down. This hurt Jun's heart because he didn't want to be a controlling person but truth be told he was worried for you. He leaned over and kissed both your left and right cheeks before helping both of you up. He led you back into the bedroom while whispering sweet nothings to you. Once you got into bed, he left the room to "hide" your project before joining you.

☾ Hoshi:

You shot up in bed screaming after having the most realistic nightmare. This nightmare has haunted you for years but you thought it was over. Especially with you now dating Soonyoung. Soonyoung jolted up as well asking what was wrong while wrapping his arms around you. You starting weeping into his chest which made him scared as hell. He hugged you as you kept saying "no" and tried his best to calm you down. His eyes started water as he realized soon that you were mumbling apologies to your ex who had passed away in the past. He never asked any information about his death but he knew that it hurt you a lot. He knew the best thing he could do was rock you and kiss the top of your head until you calmed down. Once you did, he held you like that until you started to cry again and apologizing to him. You didn't want Soonyoung to think you loved your ex more because it wasn't the truth. He whispered that you didn't need to apologize and reminded you that he was there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. "Baby, you don't have to tell me a thing if it's too much, but I'm here to listen if you are ever ready. I want to help. I love you, okay?" "okay."

☾ Wonwoo:

Your best friend recently passed from a freak accident and it was just eating you alive. Why did they have to go? Why so soon? You didn't even get to say a proper goodbye and that's what killed you. You just missed them so much and your heart hurt from it. Work had be generous and gave you a bereavement period but staying alone in your thoughts somehow made this time worse for you. You didn't admit it to anyone but Wonwoo knew you were struggling really bad. He saw the signs and knew you weren't sleeping well. Which is why Wonwoo was staying over the night of the funeral so he could do everything in his power to help you. Not with words but with actions. He made you tea and put soft music while you sat on the couch in a blanket while scrolling through your friends instagram. His heart hurt for you because he knew what it was like to lose someone. He sat next to you and put an arm around you. You leaned up against him, "I miss them," you whispered. "I know, I'm sorry." He continued to hold you until finally went to sleep.

☾ Woozi:

After a hour of tossing and turning, you realized that sleep was just not an option. You didn't know why it was so hard to sleep but it just was. You sighed as you turned on your phone and noticed Jihoon had just sent you an instagram reel. You couldn't help but smile at his name and watched the reel with a smile across your face. When you reacted to the reel you got a call pretty soon from him which you quickly answered. "You're still up?" He asked before you could even say 'hello.' This made you scoff before saying, "I could say the same thing about you." "Eh, I have an excuse. I'm in the studio." You rolled your eyes before getting an idea. "Can I come by? I can't sleep and wanna be near you. I promise I won't annoy you." He chuckled and hummed a bit. "Sure, wanna spend the night too when we are both finally sleepy?" "Yes please. I'll be there in 10."

☾ DK:

One of your many quirks was panic baking. Whenever you were stressed about something you would bake. It didn't matter if it was brownies, cakes, bread, cupcakes, lemon bars, or whatever. So many of your friends loved this little habit about you but they didn't realize you would do this instead of sleep most nights. However, Seokmin did. He came home after a long day of schedules when he smelt some goodies come from the kitchen. Normally people would be excited to smell goodies but not at 1:30 in the morning. He would sigh and make his way to the kitchen. There he saw you taking out some cupcakes. He waited for you to set the hot plate down before he called out your name. You jumped and looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights. He gave you a concerned look and that's when you broke down and told him you couldn't sleep because you were nervous so you baked because that "was all you were good at." As you continued to breakdown in front of Seokmin, he quickly made his way to you and just rocked you while you fell apart. He whispered sweet nothings and stayed there for awhile before promising to clean up the kitchen so you could take a shower in hopes it would make you sleepy.

☾ Mingyu:

It was one of those nights where sleep was the enemy. You just kept tossing and turning to a point where you were just getting annoyed. You had tried everything from white noise to brewing some sleepy time tea. Nothing worked. It wasn't until you started scrolling through instagram and noticed Mingyu just posted a photodump. You liked it instinctively and automatically got a call from your concerned boyfriend. It was 2am and his royalty was still awake? Unacceptable. When you answered his heart broke when he realized that you were struggling to sleep so he did what any good boyfriend would do and came over to snuggle. Hopefully he could help you sleep.

☾ Minghao:

It was a sleepless night the night before and you promised Minghao to a brunch date. You were exhausted by the time you got there but tried your best to shake it off so he wouldn't worry. However, Minghao knew how to read you like a book so you were not able to fool him one bit. He would just order the food to go and take your cute ass home so you could get some proper rest. He would wait for you to tell him if anything was going on but would just take care of you by brewing you a tea or cuddling you to sleep.

☾ Seungkwan:

Sleeping was never one of your talents. Honestly, you never could get the right amount of sleep. It would either be too much or too little. To say this didn't concern Seungkwan would be a lie. He would often ask how your sleep schedule was and if you mentioned you got less than 3 hours the night before his heart would break. Unlike Minghao, he would ask if anything was bothering you or what was going on but that's just because he wanted to make sure you were okay. If you were going through something, he would try his best to work it out with you. He even would offer a shoulder to sleep on if you got sleepy throughout the day.

☾ Vernon:

To say you tried to sleep was an understatement. You were tossing and turning, counting all the sheep, and even tried to gaslight yourself that you were asleep. However, nothing worked. You still laid wide awake while your precious boyfriend was asleep peaceful next to you. You sighed as you turned one last time and surprisingly that woke Hansol up. He rubbed his eye before flinging an arm around you and pulling you closer. "You okay, babe?" He would ask with his voice all gruffy sounding due to the sleep. "yeah... sorry." He didn't believe you and would roll you over so you were making eye contact, he tried to figure it out telepathically but he couldn't so he kissed your nose instead. The gesture made you scoff before snuggling into him. "I'm fine, just can't sleep very well tonight." He'd hum while playing mindlessly with your hair. "We can put on a movie if you want?" You would smile into his chest before whispering an "ok." It was moments like these when you were thankful he was there.

☾ Dino:

You sighed before sat up to get out of bed. Sleep was just not in the cards and honestly there were other things you could do instead of getting a restless night of sleep. However, you momentarily forgot your adorable boyfriend, Chan, was cuddled up next to you and his grasp tightened as you tried to escape his grasp. Him being stubborn made you giggle which made him smile before he looked up at you. "You can't leave me yet, it's still dark outside." You would sigh before wrapping your arms around him as well in defeat. "Sorry babe, I just can't sleep." "Mmm, why?" "I don't know. I've tried everything." He then opened his eyes a bit and gave you a little smirk, "I mean not everything...." You could feel what he meant and giggled before kissing him and hoping he could *literally* wear you out.

It's finally out. Please lmk your favorite one. Personally I loved writing DK's part. (as usual. It's so easy for me to write for him,) Please lmk what yall liked tho <3

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delicatebarness · 2 days

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cry baby | chapter twelve

Summary: It's not who the hell is Bucky, it's where the hell is Bucky?

Warning: Lack of Bucky. Mean Bucky is back (question mark?)

Word Count: 1654

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A/N: Oh... Buck. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Your phone buzzed, an indication that you received a text, and you eagerly snatched it up. Only to find it was the regular pizza deal text from the local pizzeria you ordered from, one time. Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the couch and wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself.

A few days had passed since that night Bucky left your apartment. In that time, he hadn’t returned any of your calls or texts, and he hadn’t been showing up at the bar. You had expressed your growing concern to the rest of the group, however they seemed unbothered. “He’s just being Bucky,” they all waved off with a casual shrug.

As the day continued to pass without a word from him, your worry began to deepen. Each time your phone buzzed, your hope would flare, only to vanish when it wasn’t him.

The first place you checked when you hadn’t heard back from him was his apartment. You had gone there during a time when you knew he wouldn’t be at work. Knocking on his door and calling his name, you waited around a few moments longer than you normally would, but there had been no answer. You had even asked his neighbors, but they explained that they rarely see him.

You found yourself pacing the apartment, the thought of him possibly hurt or in trouble gnawed at you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing your phone and keys, you decided to check the local hospital. It felt drastic, but the uncertainty was eating away at you. The cool air did little to calm your nerves as you walked toward the hospital.

At the hospital’s reception desk, you explained your situation to the receptionist, trying to not rush your words and steady your breathing. “Hi, I was just wondering if my friend has been admitted here. He hasn’t been in touch for a few days, and I’m really worried. His name is James Barnes… but he might be under Bucky.”

The receptionist took a moment to check her records, giving you a sympathetic look as she turned back to you. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name admitted.”

Your heart sank, but you thanked the lady and headed toward the bar. As you walked, the city lights began to turn on as you debated your next move. Checking with Fury felt like the next logical step, but you worried it may be too extreme.

Reaching the bar with heavy steps, your mind swirled with anxiety and unanswered questions. You saw that Natasha was already sitting at the booth. Concern was etched on her face as she looked up at you sliding into the booth. “Hey, everything okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head, fidgeting with the ends of your cardigan shelves. “I still haven’t heard from Bucky… I checked his apartment, the hospitals… nothing.”

She reached out, a comforting hand resting on top of your trembling ones. “I know you’re worried, but remember,” she paused, taking a sigh. “This isn’t the first time he’s disappeared like this. He’s always had the habit of going off the grid for a week or two and then, one day we walk in here and he’s just back.”

You nodded, a mixed feeling of frustration and relief rushed through you at her words. “I know, but it just feels different, Nat. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Natasha gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a sympathetic look covering her face. “I get it, but he’s a tough guy, he knows what he’s doing,”

You couldn’t shake the worry entirely, but her words gave you a small sense of hope. As the rest of the evening passed by, you found yourself staring at the empty seat across from you.

Over the rest of the weeks, you tried everything you could think of to try and get a reply from him. You continued to send him calls and texts, each one sounding more desperate as the days passed. You even resorted to sending him Snapchats of your kitten, hoping that a glimpse of the kitten you named, Alpine, together would prompt him to reach out.

However, no matter how hard you tried, all you could see was that everything had only been delivered. He remained silent, and you were left unread.

You checked your phone obsessively, hoping for some sign of him.

The week rolled into the next, and you found yourself trying to distract yourself with work and drawing. No matter how hard to tried to focus on something else, your thoughts kept drifting back to Bucky. You found yourself returning to his apartment time and time again, hoping you would catch him. But each time, the door remained closed.

After a night with the rest of your friends, the bar began to empty out. You had remained lost in your thoughts for most of the night, your gaze still fixed on the empty seat in front of you.

Suddenly, the door to the bar swung open. Your heart began to race as the hope built up inside you. Stretching your neck out to turn toward the door, you locked gazes with Tony.

Tony had been a friend of your group for years, he was the best mechanic in the city and did everything to help out with the bikes. He walked in, carrying a bulky-looking package. His eyes remained locked on yours, a bright smile spread across his face as he made his way over to the booth.

“Evening ladies,” Tony greeted, the term ladies used to greet all five of you sat at the booth. “I’ve been meaning to give this to Barnes, but since he hasn’t shown up or answered his goddamn phone… I figured I’d better bring it to you.”

You watched as Tony placed the cardboard box on the table in front of you. “What’s this?” you asked, curiosity filling your voice.

Tony shot you a mischievous grin as he began opening the box, revealing a pastel pink motorcycle helmet adorned with intricate designs. “Barnes ordered this from the shop a couple of weeks ago…” he trailed on before handing it to you. “Like I said, he hasn’t come to collect it yet or answered any of my calls. But, I can only assume it’s for you.”

Your eyes welled, the surprise of the gesture taking over your emotions. You reached out to look over the helmet, feeling the smooth surface beneath your fingertips. It was adorable, matching the color of your new cardigan perfectly, and the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to order it for you filled your heart.

“Thank you, Tony…” you sniffled, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. “I have no idea he was planning something like this.”

Tony chuckled, his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, I’m glad I could get it to you, Cry Baby.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Tony. He didn’t stay around much longer, with a nod and a wave, he bif you all farewell before leaving.

Holding the helmet in your hands, you couldn’t help but think of Bucky. Why would he plan this gesture but then disappear, you thought?

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment door, clutching the pink helmet. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached out to knock on his door.

The sound of your knocking echoed in the hallway, you held your breath as you waited anxiously for a response.

A surge of relief rushed through you as the door cracked open. However, it was short-lived as you looked up to see Bucky standing there, shirtless and caught off guard. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, and his skin shined from sweat. His eyes widened in surprise as he registered your presence.

“Hi…” you greeted him, offering a small smile in the awkwardness of the situation. “I, uh, Tony… Tony came by the bar tonight,” you tried to keep your voice steady while gesturing toward the helmet in your hands. “I just wanted to thank you for the helmet,”

His expression was guarded as his gaze went back and forth between you and the interior of his apartment. He stepped back slightly, closing the door with him, blocking your view into the apartment. “Oh, uh, yeah. No problem,” he mumbled, his tone terse and distant, if you hadn’t been hanging on his every word, you may have missed him adding your name at the end.

He hadn’t used your name since you were four years old. Twenty years, he has only called you ‘Sweetheart,’ until now. It was a small detail, you should have easily overlooked but it felt significant somehow.

That was when you heard movement coming from the apartment, and the pieces fell into place. You tried to mask your embarrassment as you realized that you had most likely interrupted something more intimate.

“I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to maintain your composure. “It, um, it was so thoughtful of you.”

His eyes darted between you and the helmet, and you could see the tension in his posture as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You bit back the urge to apologize but instead, you focused on getting away as quickly as you could. “I’ll, uh, let you get back to… whatever you were doing,” you said, your voice tinged with embarrassment.

Bucky nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… thanks,” he mumbled, his gaze avoided yours.

With a final awkward smile, you turned to leave. As the door closed behind you, you made your way back down the hallway. Before rounding the corner, you stopped in your tracks turning back to look at his door.

With a heavy sigh, you tore your gaze away and continued on your way.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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lucy90712 · 2 days

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heyy love your writing:>

Could you pls do clingy jude x fem!reader?

This season has been an incredibly long one so many games so many ups and downs but it has been a lot of fun. I have loved watching Jude blossom at Real Madrid and win trophies which he has very much deserved. The one big downside is that we haven't spent as much time as we would like together Jude is always away for games or at training and when he's not I'm at work and even now the domestic season is over the euros start in a few weeks so we are going to be apart again.

Just yesterday Jude was at the champions league final which I couldn't go and see in person and now in a few days time he has to head back to England to join the England team. When I went to bed Jude was still at Wembley but now that I've woken up he's asleep beside me so he must've made it home at some point during the night. His arm was loosely hung over my waist as he slept soundly. I wished we could stay like this forever but I have work and I'm sure Jude has celebrations to attend later with the team. As much as I should get up I can go without breakfast and use that time to just lay in bed with Jude for a few more minutes, out of habit my hands went to his hair playing with it which woke him up. Once he realised where he was he pulled me closer to him and just held me tightly which is really going to make getting up even harder.

"Good morning" he said in his morning voice which I love so much

"Morning and congratulations you played so well last night I'm so sad I couldn't be there" I said

"Thank you but don't worry I know you had work I'm just glad you're here right now" he said

"I wish we could spend more time together you've got to leave me again in a few days and then I won't see you until the euros have started" I said

"Do you have to go to work today?" He asked

"I'm afraid I do there's a few others off this week and we've got a lot to get done" I replied

That made Jude frown and hold onto me tighter. The time indicated that I should've got out of bed 10 minutes ago but I still don't want to leave and I don't think Jude will let me just yet. My routine is completely ruined but I don't really care as I love to soak up moments like this as they have been rare recently. As time went on Jude only held me tighter and started pressing kisses to my face and neck almost teasing me as he was yet to reach my lips but eventually he pulled me down to give me what I had been waiting for. I've missed Jude's kisses so much so I let him keep kissing me for a few more minutes before I pulled away and tried to get out of bed. Jude didn't let me get up I tried but he was just too strong for me to be able to break free.

"I have to go to work love" I said

"Do you really have to" he whined

"You know I do" I said

Jude didn't say anything else he simply just grabbed my phone from my bedside table and started looking for something which confused me until he put the phone to his ear. He had called my boss and phoned me in sick which had me laying there completely shocked. I never thought he'd do something like that just to spend time with me but I can't say I'm mad about it because I've missed him so much and I haven't had a day off in months. It didn't sink in for a few seconds that I really didn't have to go to work but when Jude put my phone down smiling I realised I could snuggle back into his arms for as long as I wanted to.

We stayed in bed for a while until we were both starting to get hungry but before we could eat I wanted to brush my teeth. Jude joined me in the bathroom to brush his teeth too but he didn't let go of me even for a second he even stood behind me with his arms around my waist as I washed my face and did my skincare. Once I was done he picked me up and put me over his shoulder and carried me down the stairs which I would complain about but he used to do it all the time when we got to see more of each other so I just enjoyed getting to be like we used to. He took me to the kitchen and put me down and just stared at me which to others might seem weird but I knew exactly what he was asking. He wanted to order breakfast and I wasn't going to say no as I didn't really want to cook.

I let him order whatever he thought I'd want as he usually gets it right then I suggested we make some fresh orange juice as for some reason we have a load of oranges that we definitely won't eat before they go bad. Jude got the juicer we have for whatever reason and I cut the oranges so they can go in the machine but I wasn't tall enough or strong enough to actually press the oranges into the juicer. I needed Jude to help me so he got the little step stool we have in the kitchen to help me reach things and put his hands on mine to help me push all the oranges through the juicer. We made a pretty good team and made a good amount at least enough for a glass for both of us which I poured while Jude answered the door as our food arrived.

We ate breakfast before sitting on the sofa where we stayed for pretty much the whole day just cuddling and catching up on the shows we like to watch together but have become quite behind on. Both of us are normally quite active people and hate to sit around all day but I loved spending all day just cuddling with Jude and that's how I know we've both missed each other's company. Thinking about the fact that I'm just a few days we will have to be apart again made me so sad. I didn't realise just how much I missed him and our days together until we actually got to be together and now I don't want him to leave again.

"Have you got work for the next few days?" Jude asked

"Yeah sadly I really wish I didn't but if I want time off the the euros I can't take any more they will fire me" I said

"You don't need this job if you want to work you can find another company to work for that is more flexible we never see each other as they always make you work overtime and extra days" Jude said

"I know but my coworkers will end up with so much more to do and then I'll feel awful" I said

"If that wasn't a factor would you prefer to stay or leave?" Jude asked

"I think I'd prefer to leave" I admitted

"Then do it spend the summer with me and then look for a new job once the season restarts" Jude said

"Are you sure I have some savings but not enough for a few months of not working" I said

"I'm completely sure I can afford everything and I'd much rather you be happy and I want to enjoy the summer with you" he said

"Then it's settled I'll hand in my notice later today and take the rest of my holiday to cover my notice period" I said

Jude didn't say anything else he just kissed me and held me tighter. This definitely feels right and I can't lie that I'm really happy and relieved that I can spend the whole off season with Jude and experience pre season and the euros with him properly.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football imagine

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puck-luck · 1 day

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give him six | trevor zegras

warnings: extreme domination. EXTREME domination. daddy kink because i do what i want. edging. spanking. cockwarming. at the same time. don’t worry about it. i do what i want. HINTS of anal play but they don’t actually do it. derogatory language (name calling…). crying during sex. sorry! spit kink. had to be done. subspace! ugh need a man to put me in that BAD bad pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary/request: “thinking about trevor zegras needing to fuck his gf roughly after a tough game to let out his frustration bc i can sooooo see him being into that. but he’d always be looking out for u too, saying to tell him if it hurts and checking in to ask if she’s ok, but as soon as she assures him she is he’s just going absolutely nuts not holding back 🫠” wc: 4109

You don’t have to look at Trevor to see how angry he is. He lost a few weeks of hockey due to his broken ankle and now he was back– but he couldn’t make a fucking goal in a shootout to get the win for his team? The worst part was that his shot was denied not by the goalie, but by the post. By the fucking post.

Trevor loves to flaunt his accuracy in the backyard, in the practice rink, even when tossing trash into the garbage bin, but the one time he doesn’t mean to hit the post, the puck does? It’s idiocracy. It’s humiliating. He’s better than this. He knows it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But St. Louis got to celebrate tonight, and maybe if he hadn’t hit the damn post, then he’d be celebrating with his teammates instead of stewing in your bed.

His arms are crossed over his chest and the TV isn’t even on– you join him and want to laugh at the image of your pouty boyfriend wallowing in silence. You climb under the covers with Trevor.

“You did really well, Trev,” you compliment, settling into the mattress.

“We should’ve won,” he replies.

You sigh. “You can’t win them all.”

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah, well, we could’ve won this one,” he snaps.

You stare at him for a moment while his tone really sets in. “You don’t have to talk to me like that,” you say, your voice growing cold. “I wasn’t out on the ice with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He, at least, sounds the part. He covers his face with his hands, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “I just– I’m so mad.”

You take a deep breath. You don’t have to be at work until 9 and it’s about five minutes away if you leave on time. You have to do the laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. Trevor would feel better if you did this. You really wanted to sleep after the game tonight, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t want to make him feel better. Another deep breath.

“Why don’t you take it out on me?” You ask.

Trevor looks over at you, surprise written all over his features. “Really?” He asks, like a child who was just told that he could have another candy before bed. “Like last time?”

Last time. You practically start salivating, thinking about how Trevor brought you to the edge and ripped you away from the cliff time after time, until you were sobbing and screaming and begging for a release.

“Yeah, like last time,” you agree, already a little absent. Trevor notices, of course he does, he’s more in tune with your body than you are at this rate.

A smile tugs on the corner of Trevor’s lips, but he ignores it.

“Hands and knees,” Trevor says. “Right in front of me.”

You position yourself accordingly.

Trevor smooths a hand over your behind, your shirt riding up and exposing your skin due to the position you’re in. You hadn’t worn anything else to bed– why would you? You and Trevor had been together for ages and you weren’t exactly new to his… post-loss coping mechanisms.

“Elbows,” Trevor corrects. His cock twitches when you immediately drop to your elbows, no hesitation in your movements. You’re silent, like he wants when you play like this, and you’ll do anything he says. You’re gorgeous like this, all spread out and listening to him with your head forward like a good girl, waiting for your next instruction.

You hear his voice over the thumping of your heart, although you’re not sure how. You’re always finding Trevor in the mess of everything.

“Bite the sheets,” Trevor commands, shimmying out of his boxers. You can hear him moving and you take the bedsheets in your mouth, the fabric almost immediately saturating with your saliva. “Close your eyes.” You slide your eyes shut and wait, your shaky breath filling the room and heating your face.

Something warm probes at your entrance and for a moment, you can’t tell if it’s Trevor’s fingers or his cock. The answer comes to you via a sharp spank on your left cheek, with Trevor’s left hand. He always fingers you with his left hand so that he can keep his right around your neck– the hand that’s currently kneading your other cheek.

He pushes his cock into you slowly, the movement more like he’s pulling you back than pushing you forward.

“Six shots,” Trevor muses, watching his cock disappear into you. “Six shots, and I didn’t make one.”

You bite back the reassurance, swallowing it. Trevor doesn’t want to hear it.

“Do you know how that feels?”

You don’t answer. He still doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll show you,” Trevor promises, his voice deceptively soft. His hand rests against your skin, heavy and present.

You get lost in the feeling easily, your mouth full of the comforter and your fingers twisted in the top sheet. Your eyes stay closed, the red-tinged darkness grounding you.

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” he repeats, his voice darker this time. “You’re going to understand exactly what it feels like to come so close six times, just for all of that to be taken away from you.”

Your eyes open at his words and you pale. You spit the covers out and break your silence. “Six times?” You ask, incredulous. “Trev.”

“Daddy,” Trevor corrects with a spank. “Unless that’s… not what we’re doing tonight?”

You clench down on his length at the contact and the name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sound of his voice. Trevor is playing with you, teasing you. His fingers are walking all over you– the small of your back, your cheeks, down your crack all the way to where he’s buried inside of you… and it’s distracting.

You find yourself nodding. “It is.”

“Good,” Trevor says. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make the second and third ones quick, okay?”

His voice is full of condescension, like he knows you’re going to lose track of everything as soon as he starts hitting you. He’s right, but that’s neither here nor there.

For as long as you’d been dating Trevor, you’d never seen him tap into the mindset that he has on the ice off the ice. However, when he’s bringing his hand down on your ass, he gets pretty damn close.

His spanks are precise and powerful. He’s leaving pink handprints all over your skin, from the fleshy parts of your ass to the top of your thighs, even a few falls over the hole that he’s not occupying. Each flash of his hand leaves your skin burning and your hips inching upwards, begging for more. All of this, and he’s still inside you– the torture of the spanking is that he isn’t moving, and you’re not supposed to.

You lose track of the count, feeling your stomach flip with each slap. What starts as stinging pain turns into aching pleasure, and the sensations aren’t lost on Trevor.

He feels you jolt each time he brings his hand down on your skin, the clench of your pussy around his cock, the pounding of your pulse from inside of you. Trevor smirks and shifts his hips forward as he brings his hand down, his hand making contact with your asshole just as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

You wail, lurching under Trevor’s watchful eye. You fuck back on his cock once, only managing the movement one measly time, before Trevor stills you with a hand and slides out of you.

“No,” you breathe out, voice muffled by your makeshift gag.

“Yes,” Trevor replies, smug. “Isn’t it frustrating?”

You glare at him, turning so he can see the look on your face.

All it does is make him laugh. “Well, now I have to really punish you, don’t I?” He asks. “I can’t have my baby making angry faces at me.”

Trevor taps your hip, wordlessly telling you to move. You resume your original position next to him, expecting Trevor to tell you to put your “pretty little hand” on his cock and jerk him until he comes all over your freshly manicured fingers.

You don’t expect him to slide under the covers and hike up your shirt until your breasts are exposed. Trevor hooks a leg around yours, his mouth exhaling warm air onto your nipple. His fingers tap at your skin, one hand on your side and the other on your mound, making its way south.

“We’re going to do four like this,” Trevor tells you. His voice is merely a whisper, crawling over in your skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. “Just like this. I’m gonna take one,” he breathes, catching your nipple between his teeth for a split second before continuing. “Right here. Gimme one, baby, just from me licking your tits. I know you can.”

He dives in, tongue first. Your jaw drops as Trevor’s eyes close, the same way you know they do when you kiss him. It’s surreal, seeing him kiss and lick over your skin the way he normally does over your lips. His eyelashes flutter, the long, dark pieces of hair stealing your train of thought.

Trevor surprises you with how quickly he brings you to the edge again. He promised that the second and third would be quick, but you didn’t know just how quick he meant.

You let out a strangled gasp and your hand flies to Trevor’s hair when he opens his eyes and lets his adoring gaze fix on your face. You pull him off your chest, heaving breaths filling your lungs.

Trevor smirks, but it never quite reaches his eyes. The same look burns you, makes you shy under his gaze. You blush and look away, one of your hands covering the redness on your cheeks.

“Good,” Trevor remarks, a mere observation. “You got close, didn’t you, baby?”

You nod, still breathing heavily.

Trevor waits, expectant. He tilts his head down and blinks.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede. “I was close.”

“Honest girl,” Trevor praises. His fingers dance over your slit. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you parrot back to him.

Trevor rewards you by pushing one finger into your heat, pumping it in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your breath stays shaky, your eyes never leaving Trevor’s. His finger drags along your walls, petting the inside of you with its pad, and you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprint inside of you if you focus enough.

It’s hard to focus on that when Trevor’s got his scrutinizing eyes on yours, though.

“What finger is it?” Trevor asks.

“What?” You stammer, finally blinking and breaking the trance.

Trevor’s other hand flies up to steady your chin before you can look down and ruin his game. “Which finger–” Trevor asks, curling it inside you. “–am I fucking you with?”

Your brain stalls. It’s a no-brainer, really, you should know each of Trevor’s fingers by feel alone with how often they make their way inside of you. However, you’ve been denied two orgasms already and Trevor is close to taking a third from you with just his smug stare.

“Come on,” Trevor goads. “You know which finger this is, baby. The faster you tell me, the faster I get you to your orgasm.”

“Yeah, the faster you take it away,” you reply.

Trevor’s eyes cloud over and he jams his finger inside you, increasing his pace. “Don’t be a bitch.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Trevor twists his finger inside of you.

“Unless you want me to fuck you like one,” he teases.

You clench down on Trevor’s finger, his middle finger you realize, when he utters those words.

“You like that?” Trevor asks, unnecessarily. He can feel how you feel about it. “You like the idea of me getting my cock in you and fucking you like a damn animal? What is it, baby? Is it the primal instinct of it all or just the fact that I’m disciplining you like you’re worth less than I am?”

You moan at his words, logical responses and formed sentences too far from you to grasp.

“Tell me.” Trevor nudges your g-spot and you arch your back, your hips grinding against his finger… just for him to draw it out of you. “Not so fast. We’ve still got three more to go.”

“I was close,” you complain.

“So was I,” Trevor counters. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When things don’t work out the way you want them to?”

“Trevor!” You frown, put off by his game.

“Well, now you’ve really done it,” Trevor growls, shoving two fingers inside of you and resting his thumb on your clit. “You know better than to call me by my name.”

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, so Trevor’s movements aren’t hindered in the slightest, not even when you squeeze your thighs shut. All Trevor does is push them open, trap your thigh under his bony knee. Somehow, even though you just had your legs spread, Trevor seems to push in further and rub your clit faster, hitting every right spot in alternating movements: clit, then g-spot, clit, then g-spot again. And over and over.

You don’t warn him this time, you don’t pull away. You try not to clench down, you try not to rock your hips, you try anything that might get you real relief from a real orgasm without Trevor noticing.

But it’s also a futile effort because your boyfriend knows you that well.

He withdraws his fingers just as your legs, the traitors, begin to tremble.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?” Trevor teases.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Daddy.”

Trevor’s eyes flash with approval and he teases your entrance again, this time with a third finger. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “We’ve only got two more. Then I’ll let you come.”

You choke on your own spit when Trevor buries his three fingers inside of you, all in one motion. He doesn’t dawdle or stall for time. He doesn’t take advantage of the situation at hand– that you were already shaking for him and a pump of his fingers would give you away to the pleasure just on the other side of your approaching peak.

No, he doesn’t pump his fingers. He just wiggles them as deep as he can get them and smirks before dropping a kiss on your lips. He lowers himself then and blows cool air on your clit, spreading your folds with his other hand so the full bundle of nerves is revealed to him. He leans in and captures it with his tongue, lightly sucking on the bundle. It’s not the most friction he’s ever given you, but it’s consistent. He builds you up on his tongue, slowly, so slowly.

And when your thighs close around his head, he stops. You’re aching for a release, tears building along your waterline. Your refractory period is shrinking with each near-orgasm, your babbles begging for Trevor to do something.

“I need it,” you beg, but the words feel more like a scream with how heavy they sit on your chest.

“Oh, I know you need it,” Trevor replies, tone mocking. “You need it so bad, you’re acting up. Talking back, not using my name, not answering my questions, trying to trick me so that you can get an orgasm. I ought to leave you like this, really show you what it’s like to be left frustrated after a disappointing performance.”

“No,” you whimper. “No, Trevor, that’s too much.”

It’s not your word, it’s not a cry of pain, but it still gives Trevor pause.

“Need me to be sweet to you?” Trevor asks, his eyes genuine and his hair wild from your wandering grasp.

You whine, arching your back. Trevor smiles fondly, but bats you away. When your back makes contact with the mattress again, Trevor’s deft fingers pinch your nipple and cause you to arch up a second time. He pushes you back down.

“Slut,” Trevor chastises. “Think you can distract me with your tits? This isn’t amateur hour, baby. I’ve still got to steal one orgasm from you.”

You blanch at that, your eyes wide. You take in every detail of his face, panting. There isn’t anything you could say that could stop him, except your word, but you’d rather curl into a ball and die than stop this right now. The words don’t come to you to tell him to continue, though.

“I’m going to get you so close,” Trevor whispers, his face close to yours. He leans down and kisses your neck. You arch into him, your once-useless hands finding his sides. You feel over the muscle there, his lean waist and strong chest. “You’re going to be right there, baby, and then I’m going to take it all away.”

“Please,” you repeat, but it’s indecipherable whether you’re begging Trevor to let you come or begging Trevor to leave you wanting more.

“Yeah,” Trevor agrees, sliding his three fingers back into your wet cunt.

You moan sharply at the intrusion, pumping deep into you this time and dragging along your walls in a torturous way. It feels so good, it has you seeing white specks when you manage to open your eyes and look at Trevor. His eyes are trained on your cunt, watching your wetness seep all over his fingers. When you push his hair out of his face, his eyes lift to meet yours.

His pupils are blown wide with lust and he’s got a snarl rumbling from deep in his chest. It is primal, you realize, the way he’s bullying his fingers into your cunt without a thought about what you can or can’t handle. He’s taking you, the way that you’ll only ever allow him to do.

“Gonna come?” Trevor asks, the evil smirk overtaking his face again.

“Please,” you beg again.

“‘Please,’” Trevor mocks. “Is that the only word you know?”

He pulses his hand, his fingers bouncing off your walls and causing you to jolt and scramble to find something to hold onto. That something ends up being Trevor’s hair and the pillow to your side. Your chest is heaving again, your nipples taut and pointed and begging to be touched.

As Trevor’s eyes trail down your body at a snail’s pace, you can feel your orgasm approaching. You yank his hair and he winces, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezing in retaliation.

“Daddy,” you wheeze, the edge of your vision growing fuzzy and dark. It’s the only warning you can give Trevor as the cliff starts to crumble below you, as you start to fall away into the orgasm that was denied from you for so long.

And when Trevor pulls his fingers out of you, he yanks you back onto solid ground.

And, unsurprisingly, you start to cry.

It’s not pretty, either. It’s not a tear here and there when you’re deepthroating your boyfriend, or the beautiful running of mascara as he fucks your face at some hockey event. No, this is full-on sobbing, gut-wrenching cries that have Trevor taking inventory of all the things he did to you, wondering if he pushed you too far. He rubs your thighs with both of his hands in a soothing motion, ignoring the glistening precum that he’s inadvertently rubbing into your skin.

“Baby,” Trevor murmurs.

You sob and raise your arms, needing him to hold you. Trevor’s face softens immediately and he pulls you into his chest, turning so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and you’re awkwardly dangling half on his lap, half off. You keen into his neck, burying your face in his soft, tan skin.

“My girl,” Trevor whispers, rubbing your arms now and pulling you closer to him, comforting you with his warmth. “You’re perfect.”

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck. “Please.”

Trevor tilts your head back and looks into your eyes. His gaze looks sad, meeting your own, red and puffy. “Please what, baby?”

“I need your cock,” You plead, petting over his stomach with a hand that feels like its made of static. “I need you to make me come, Daddy.”

Trevor groans, sounding pained. He twitches beneath you. “Like this?” He asks.

You nod, losing your words again. It’s a timid but vehement nod, needing Trevor to press inside you more than anything, but not knowing if you could handle another ruined orgasm.

“Please, let me come this time,” you say, trying to look as pathetic and needy as you can. With big doe eyes like this, Trevor has always been bad at denying you the things you want.

“Yeah, I think I’ve tortured you enough,” Trevor agrees, reaching under you and pressing his cockhead against your entrance. “Give me a bounce, baby. Wanna see your tits jump in front of my face, yeah?”

Trevor snakes his hands around to grab your bottom, his fingers tight against the skin. He uses his leverage to bounce you for him, knowing that you don’t have control over your movements as fucked out as you are, and he’d hate to see you cry more because you’re mad at yourself for not moving the way he wanted you to.

He lifts you up and down, snapping his hips up to meet yours when they fall. His eyes flicker between your boobs and your face, the teartracks drying over your cheeks as you allow yourself to be consumed by ecstasy. One of Trevor’s hands flies upward, tracing over your skin until he threads it between the strands of your hair. Once his whole hand is enveloped in your roots, he tugs and your mouth falls open.

Trevor leans forward and directs a glob of spit down your throat, his forceful hawk causing his spit to find the back of your throat.

You convulse on top of him, trembling under his watchful gaze and his warm cock. “Daddy,” you pant, feeling like you’re burning and drowning in your desire for him. Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth as you come and you suck on it like a child, grinding against him through your aftershocks.

You’re floating on air by the time your aftershocks cease and Trevor pulls out of you gently, grasping his cock in his fist. He’s watching you and you’re watching him. Never breaking eye contact, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Trevor presses his tip to your tongue and strokes his cock, squeezing on the downstroke and groaning curses with each turn of his hand. He comes just seconds later, his white ropes of come gracing your tastebuds. He pulls away after only a few drops intersect with your tongue, continuing to come in spurts over your cheeks, lips, and nose. A bit of come drips down the tip of your nose and you poke your tongue out again to try and catch it, which makes Trevor laugh.

Still lost in your post-orgasm haze, you barely notice when Trevor leaves the bed and comes back with a moist towel. He wipes your face, then your thighs and pussy, dropping a kiss on your lower belly after he’s finished. You let out a breath at that, not knowing that you were holding it, astounded by the fragility and intimacy of the moment.

“Daddy,” you say out loud, mostly just to yourself. Mostly just to feel the word on your tongue, feel it take its shape in your mouth. It sounds like awe.

Trevor deposits the towel in the hamper across the room with a toss, proving yet again that his precision and accuracy are off the charts most of the time. He crowds your space, tracing your features with his delicate pinky. “Did Daddy make you feel good, baby?” Trevor asks. “You made Daddy feel good.”

You whine at that and almost want to cry again at the praise. All the time you spent wondering if you were good enough, if you’d ever get a boyfriend who loved you and stayed with you was worth it when you found Trevor. He always said the right things, made you feel things you’d never felt before.

“I love you,” you say.

Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth, watching your eyes close in bliss as he presses it against your tongue. You can still taste where he was rubbing your pussy with this digit.

“I love you,” he replies, voice soft. His voice sounds like awe, too.

note: small town girl chapter 1 next! (hopefully)

#puck luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#trevor zegras #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #tz11 #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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josephquinnswhore · 7 hours

Text

disarmed - joel miller x female reader.

Summary: you’ve been travelling with Joel for months, harbouring feelings for one another. Tommy helps the two of them realise how they feel.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff, mentioned a few times that joel is still grieving Sarah, jealousy, possession, age gap. Joel is in his forties and reader mid-twenties. Post outbreak fic. Reader had some dirty thoughts about joel.

Note: I’ve been awol for three months. Hello friends!! @katiexpunk

"Ain’t gonna give up on me are ya?"

Joel calls out, checking over his shoulder to see if you're still behind him. You two have been travelling for hours, with the crunch of your boots against the snow that began to fall on the previous evening—the first official day of winter. They needed to reach Jackson before a mound of snow covered the area, or otherwise they would never know how long they would be there in this endless stretch of open space. With the possibilities of being stuck in a snowstorm, it dawned on them; the pressure to get to their destination.

Joel's crooked, uneven, scowling facade did nothing to keep you out or to halt your innate desire to preserve yourself by desperately attempting to make a connection with him, but for some reason, you had managed to accomplish what no one else could.

Make him feel affection, which of course, came with the pure unbridled fear at the thought of something happening to you. A fear he had not felt since..

“Not long to go now,” he murmurs, trying not to think about his past, his voice softening as he waits for you to catch up, he can see you are making the effort to keep up, your legs picking up their stride in an attempt to match his pace. Even so, at this rate they wouldn’t make it to Jackson before nightfall.

The weary look you give does nothing to comfort him either, internally, he cant stop any thought about you, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you were feeling, other than the pure exhaustion he could feel radiating from your pained expression and lame movements.

They were nearly at Jackson, to Tommy, after months of travelling and struggling for food, fighting against raiders and infected, Joel had made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to get you to Jackson. They had to make it today, before the sun fell, they were struggling for rations, between them, they had a can of baked beans left, two decades old and barely edible, it's clear to Joel that you’re losing hope.

“I know, not long, right?” You manage to reply after a few moments of thinking to yourself. The two of you had been surviving on scraps for weeks, you couldn't remember what it was like to eat a proper meal. For your stomach not to grumble and ache in hunger.

“When we get to Jackson they’ll have a bed for us, a real bed, probably a proper shower too, an’ food. Somethin’ for us to look forward to.” He glances your way, attempting to lift your spirits.

A crack of a smile stretches your lips, thinking about hot water, a real warm meal. “I don't remember the last time I had a real shower.”

“You’ll be able to finally wash that grease out of your hair too,” he mutters under his breath with a cheeky grin. He could only wonder how bad the two of them must smell at this point. Hes probably grown accustomed to the smell of his own putrid stench. A mix of grease, gunpowder, blood, dirt and body odour. You never complained though.

“Like you can talk, the stench coming from you is foul, old man.” A playful jest comes from you, one that makes joel smile, before feigning offence, he brings his hand to his chest as he scoffs. “Like you're any better.”

His lips turn into a genuine smile as the two of them share a light hearted moment, something that feels like it had been weeks since had happened – he can't help but admit to himself that.. it feels nice. That he enjoys seeing this side of you, that he could be the one to make you happy.

The playful smile on your face slowly slips into the same tight line it had been for weeks on end. The monotonous expression Joel had become so accustomed to.

“Whats on your mind? Somethin’ botherin’ you?” Joel asked, sensing that something was off with you.

“Hm? Oh, no I'm good, just get stuck in my head sometimes I guess.” You manage to excuse yourself.

He knew very well what that was like, he himself spent a lot of time stuck in his head, they were more alike than he had anticipated. “That’s alright, I understand.” He reassures her.

You can't help the way you feel something for him, noting the way his hazel eyes always softened when he looked at you, his voice soft. But the constant fear nagged you, about the age gap, he was in his forties, and you only in your mid twenties. Did he see you as a kid? Did he see you as a woman?

Joel always tried to remind himself that you weren't a little girl, even with the evident age gap between the two, he still saw you as a capable, beautiful woman. He couldn't deny the way he felt when he was the one to make you laugh, those beautiful eyes of yours and how expressive they were. He couldn't deny he felt something for you, which puzzled him, it was a feeling he thought he would never experience.

The snow begins to fall heavier, and with how long they had to go to Jackson, Joel knew it would be best if they stopped for the night, to try and find some shelter for them, for her. As if an otherworldly god hears their thoughts, a small cabin comes into the near distance. You hope wordlessly that Joel would offer to stop for the evening. If not, begrudgingly for a few hours, at least.

He motions for you to follow him, in the direction of the cabin. “That looks like a safe place to camp for the night, whaddya think?” To Joel, this was an easy decision, he was tired of seeing you shiver when you camped outside, clutching to the sleeping bag for a sliver of warmth, the thin material never did much to sooth your chattering teeth. He doesn't want you sleeping outside ever again, if he had any say over the matter.

“You think it’s safe?” Your eyes scan the area, it looks abandoned.

Joel nods as he cracks open the door, scowling as the door creaks open loudly. He leads the way inside the empty cabin, he does a quick scan of the place before he steps inside, out of the snow. Its a fraction warmer inside, something you can appreciate as you close the door behind you.

“Stay close.” He whispers, keeping an eye out, the cabin was clear after searching for a few minutes, it’s a small area, a broken lounge in the same living space as the kitchen. The floorboards in the corner are starting to rot due to a leak in the roof, some of the snow falling through to the inside of the cabin. “Looks like we're all good in here, I’ll look around and see what I can find, we’ll sleep here for the evenin’.”

You shrug off the heavy pack that had been clinging in the same sore spot for hours on end, shoulders aching dully as you roll them, reaching your hands back to massage the sore spots. Your fingers are cold and stiff as you unclip your sleeping bag from your pack, setting it up in the small kitchen area, away from the corner that has a small leak in the roof.

“This place ain't so bad, better than most places we been sleepin’.” Before Joel can relax, he eyes a bookcase, it's large enough to cover the front door, with one push it topples over, with a grunt, the bookshelf falls securely over the front door, keeping them safe inside.

You look around a little in the kitchen, seeing some old trinkets covered in a thick layer of dust, a windchime, it creates a beautiful twinkle as your fingers caress the cold material, clanging against each other. Going through the draws, you have a look at a faded image, picking it up to inspect it, your heart drops, the image depicts a young family, two parents and a small baby, all smiling into the camera, in this very kitchen where you stood now.

You can’t help but wonder how long ago they resided here. If they were still alive.

“Must’ve been a family’s cabin…” His eyes glance at the photo as he leans down to rummage through the cupboards, finding a few cans of veggies that had been left behind, he sets it down on the bench next to you. “We made out pretty good on food this time. Are you hungry?”

Shakily, you return the photo back to where you found it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“You okay?” He asks, sensing the uneasiness in your voice. He grabs the tin cans of food and skillfully pops the lids open with his knife, handing a can of food to her. He nods towards their sleeping bags and they both sit down on the floor, he can't ignore the ache in his back and knees as he stretches his legs out on the floor. He tried not to think about it, sitting here with you on the hardwood floors eating out of a two decade old can of veggies was nothing worth complaining about, compared to the hell you two had endured over the months.

They were together at least. They made it this far.

“Yeah, I guess. Just doesn't get easier, you know? Thinking about it. They had a baby.” Hesitantly, you start eating with Joel, who seems silent.

He eventually nods in agreement. “Not everyone makes it.” He speaks quietly, even after all this time, he still mourns, he's been reminded of his loss time and time again, the image of the family was no exception.

They eat in silence, and you set the empty can beside your sleeping bag, sighing as you snuggle into the little warmth it provides. “Try and get some rest, we’ll head out at first light.”

“Goodnight Joel.”

He watches you settle, a small grunt escapes him as he keeps his rifle close, he leans against the wall. “Goodnight darlin’.”

“I'm sorry about your daughter Joel.” You whisper, before sparing him a glance and rolling over away from him. Joel watched you, the words pierce him, memories of his daughter haunt him, but he can't blame you. “Yeah, me too.” He mutters under his breath.

Joel stays awake, he's too restless to sleep at the thought of Sarah, losing her, relieving the pain and anguish of twenty years without her. Yet, the pain was as palpable as it was the night it happened.

The sun rises, and Joel rolls his sleeping bag, clipping it onto his pack. He notices you stirring awake. “Mornin’.” He grumbles tiredly. He stretches his neck, a loud crunch fills the air. “We should get goin’. I want to get to Jackson before midday.” He groaned as he stood, his knees clicking into place, worn and aching, the cold didn't help.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and pack the sleeping bag up quickly, not wanting to make Joel wait, he seemed pretty restless. Joel shoves the bookshelf off the door, opening it and takes a weary step outside into the daylight. He couldn't wait to see Tommy, he couldn't stop thinking about a shower, and a decent meal. They had been surviving in the wilderness for so long, Joel wasn't sure what he would do being back in civilization.

You pause in the doorway, watching Joel walk outside, his worn boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Just.. just wait a sec.” You wearily call out to him, looking back inside the cabin.

“What is it?” Joel asked, stopping in his tracks, turning to look back at you, a confused look on his face. You take a few quickened steps back into the cabin, pulling the drawer out to find the photograph of the family, before rushing outside to meet Joel. “Someone should remember them.”

Joel looks between you and the cabin, wondering what on earth you were doing. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, his voice gruff and full of confusion. He stands there for what felt like forever, watching as you return with the faded photograph in your hand. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

You shove the photograph into the back pocket of your jeans. “Ready to go?”

Joel looks at you, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Yeah.” He motions for you to continue walking, he tries to push behind the thought of the family as they walk from the cabin. For some reason, there was a warmth in his chest, at your actions, something so miniscule could show the kind of person you were. Perhaps not all hope was lost with someone so compassionate like you left in the world.

It was relatively quiet between the two of you for the rest of the trip, only a few miles, the snowfall had come to a halt overnight, so the snow wasn't much of an obstacle, being so far away from any town, there were near to no infected, nor other people.

Finally, ahead, there it was. They had finally made it to Jackson, to Tommy.

“Shit. This is Jackson?” You ask in wonder, taking in the heavily fortified walls, the men patrolling on the walls with rifles. A haven.

“Sure as hell looks like it.” Joel felt himself finally relax, for the first time in months, even if only for a moment, they had made it. “C’mon, we can get inside before the snow starts comin’ down again.” He picks up his pace towards the gate.

“Are you sure they'll let us in?” You knew Tommy was here, but the anxiety of being turned away was palpable. Joel glances back, reassuring you with a small smile. “Dont worry darlin’, Tommy knows we’re comin’.”

The gates open, and the hinges whine in protest.

“Joel, you ugly bastard is it really you?” A southern voice calls out, as the gate opens, and you watch as a man embraces Joel, similar in looks, if anything, less grey hair. “The hell took you so long?” The man asked, a joyous tone in his voice as he embraced Joel.

“Yeah, were not easy but we made it.” Joel huffed out a laugh. Tommy waves his hand, a brief gesture for the pair to follow him inside. Tommy looks over Joel’s shoulder as they walk. “Who’s this?”

You stand behind Joel, a meek smile on your lips as you introduce yourself. Tommy smirks at Joel. Joel's face reddened, his younger brother’s stare made him heat up.

“Just get us set up Tommy.” Joel muttered, avoiding the amused gaze from his brother. Tommy’s wolfish grin doesn't slip. “Sure thing, follow me.”

The odd interaction does not go missed as you watch the pair, following them to a house that Tommy had organised specifically for Joel. Tommy lets them into the house to look around and Joel speaks up. “We've been out in the wild for a long while, and we're happy to finally be able to settle down for a bit.” Joel explains, looking at Tommy.

“I can imagine. Well, i'll leave ya alone to settle in for now. Were havin’ a get together later tonight at the hall, you should come. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from each other for a bit.” Tommy jests.

You look between the two men, confused. “So where am I going to be staying?” You knew that Joel would probably want to be away from you, now that he had done his part in bringing you here safely.

Joel's head snapped in your direction and he stared at you for a moment. “With me.” He said, a little too quickly. “You'll be staying with me, here.” Joel’s eyes dart back to Tommy as if he was warning him against some smart arsed response. He looked a little embarrassed.

It didn't take an idiot to notice the glance you and Joel shared. Tommy smiled ear to ear as he watched the interaction between you two. “Alright.. Well you two can get settled here. Holler at me if you need anything, alright?”

As Joel nods, Tommy steps outside the house, leaving the pair alone again. Setting your pack down, you admire the house. “Nice place..”

Joel hums, nodding in agreement, setting his pack down next to your own. “Its alot nicer than where we've been campin’. And there's electricity.” Looking at the light Tommy had flickered on when he walked in.

“You mean we can shower?” Joel grins in amusement at your sudden excitement. “Hot water and all princess, why don't you go on and have the first shower?” The bathroom itself was simple, but it felt surreal to have electricity and running water.

“Are you sure?” Joel nods, “I can wait, its all yours.”

Joel closes the bathroom door behind you, and explores the bedroom, ruffling through the closet as he decides what to wear to this stupid get together tonight.

The hot water feels incredible, soothing the aches in your body, as you lather the vanilla scented soap, spreading the suds to wash the grime off your body. The colour of the water that runs down the drain is appalling, dark brown from grease and dirt. The shampoo is fruity, and a divine smelling scent you hadn't ever smelt in your lifetime. Lathering the clear concoction, you take your time to scrub the grease and disgusting things that stick to your strands of hair and scalp.

Its almost painful to shut the water off, but you know that Joel deserves to experience the hot water too, stepping out, you run your hand over the fogged up mirror, and hardly recognise yourself.

You slip on the clothes that had been provided for you, dark wash jeans and a long sleeved, tight fitting brown shirt. It accentuates your body shape wonderfully.

You look like a brand new woman as you emerge into the bedroom seeing Joel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

Joel looks up at you, his eyes widening as he takes in your form. You were even more beautiful than before, you looked radiant. He quickly stood, clearing his throat and he tried to keep his composure. “Hey darlin’.” He manages to utter out, his voice a little low.

Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze, hazel eyes roaming your body. “You gonna have a shower before we go?”

Joel glances down at himself, he now looked completely filthy compared to her, realisation sinking in.

“Y-yeah I think I will.. I can wash up in a minute.” As he looks back up at you, he notices your lingering gaze on him.

Were you checking him out too?

The tension is broken as Joel walks to the bathroom, taking his turn for the shower. Your mind wonders as the water runs, wondering what Joel looks like under all those clothes, if the hairs on his chest travel all the way down his torso, wondering if his tanned skin is the same delicious colour all over. A soft groan echos through the bathroom, gartering your attention, ears perking at the wonderfully intimate noise.

Something inside of you tingles in excitement at the thought, it's a hard thought to squash as you put your boots on. Joel's hair was damp, slicked back, the greying strands on his temple looked lighter than ever. The green and red flannel shirt hugged his torso and arms snugly, the jeans looked a size too small, clinging to his thick muscular thighs. His hazel eyes stared down at you as you looked him over, admiring him, he cant quite read the expression on your face.

Now it was your turn to play it cool, clearing your throat. “Ready to go?” Joel was still trying to come out of his haze as he stared at you, still trying to process the way you were checking him out. “Y-yeah…” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, let's.. Let's go..”

The hall is set up nicely, small bulbs hang from the ceiling emit a full yellow hue, there's an old record player, with vinyls underneath the bench it’s set up on, the melody of an old song echos through the hall as they walk in together, they gain some looks, from people dancing, young and old. Joel is brought into another hug by Tommy as he greets them. “Hey, look at you!” Tommy grinned. “You clean up nice.”

You silently agree, Joel looked as handsome as ever.

Joel's face runs hot as he hears Tommy’s tease, turning a rosy pink across his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to maintain his composure. “Shut it, Tommy…” Joel muttered. Tommy grinned as he watched his brother's reaction, his eyes then shifting to you. “And you… look beautiful tonight.”

Joel watches your reaction to his brother's compliment, seeing you squirm a little. “Thanks Tommy. So… what exactly is this?”

Tommys grin remained as he motioned for you both to follow. “It's a get together, we do them to blow off a little bit of steam every once in a while, you know how it is.” Joel grunts in annoyance, not enthralled by the idea of being social, nor in the judgemental gaze of the community folk.

Your eyes follow the couples as they dance to the music. A sense of yearning overcomes you, wishing it were you and Joel dancing so intimately. It's something Tommy notices.

“What, you want to dance, girl?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips. Joel's eyes widened as he tried to get his attention. “Tommy…” He muttered in warning, his voice a low grumble.

You didn't decline tommys suggestion. “You offerin’?” Perhaps, if anything, you would be lucky enough to make Joel jealous.

Tommy nods, taking you by the hand as he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, away from Joel. “Of course.”

Joel could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him. He wouldn't admit that he was starting to become jealous at the sight of his brother dancing with you.

You and Tommy dance, occasionally sneaking glances at Joel, who still looked unimpressed by the situation. Tommy laughs whenever he sees Joel’s scowling face, enjoying winding his brother up. Tommy took his turn to tease you. “So… what's it like travelling with my grumpy ass brother?”

“He's not grumpy with me.” You answer simply. This, Tommy raises a brow at. “Oh really?” He glanced over her shoulder at his brother, who was now glowering at the pair. “Looks real grumpy to me..” He teased, letting out a small chuckle.

“Only cause you're pickin’ on him.” You counter.

“You're probably right.” It wasn't uncommon for Tommy to tease his older brother like this, the more he saw how annoyed Joel was becoming, the more he wanted to keep this up.

“I like him, alot.” You murmur between the two of you. Tommy’s teasing expression dies down, shifting to an expression of empathy. He was quiet in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I can tell…” he glances at joel. “He's got it bad for you too.”

“Thats a lie if I’ve ever heard it, Tommy Miller.” You scoff.

Tommy’s brows furrowed a little as he scoffs as your disbelief.”You can't seriously tell me you're that naive, it's obvious he likes you, girl.” Joel's gaze darkens, eyes fixated on them from across the hall.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“Have you seen the look on his face? He's got this…” Tommy gestured to his own face. “...stupid look on his face since we've been dancin’. And he's lookin’ like hes seconds away from murderin’ me.”

You shrug. “He's just protective of me.”

“And how do you two interact?” Tommy asked. “Like, he dont seem too fond of me touchin’ you.” Joel's eyes flicker down to the way his younger brother's hand held your waist.

“I’m guessin’ you got some kind of plan, then, to prove me wrong?”

Tommy’s face lit up when you say this. “What do you think, girl? Are you up for it?”

A groan leaves your lips. “What’re you thinkin’?”

Tommy smirks, gently and suddenly twirls you, bringing you flush to his chest, the action makes Joel scowl. “We’re gonna piss him off just enough for him to come over. Sound good?”

You don’t miss Joel's reaction, maybe it did mean something..

“Okay, let's see what you got.”

Tommy grins, he pulls you close to him, dipping his head down to your ear, whispering. “You tell me if he gets too annoyed for yer likin’... I don’t wanna cross no boundaries.”

Tommy is an impressive dancer, you admit, and as nice as it is to be spun around the dance floor, your mind wonders what it would be like to dance with Joel, how he would hold you, where he would place his hands, how firm his grip would be.

Tommy dips you, making sure to keep a tight grip around your waist, and his body as close to yours as he could manage without dropping you, Tommy leans in, his nose close to yours. “Bit dramatic don't you think?” You mutter, eyeing tommy. There was a chance Joel would kill Tommy for this, and Tommy leans in, as if he was intent on kissing you.

That was it for Joel, he reached his breaking point, watching as his younger brother's actions grew more bold and more suggestive. As soon as he saw how close you two were, how intimate that moment looked, he pushed his way through the dancefloor, barging people that were dancing to get to them. Tommy’s plan seemed to work, getting the reactive reaction out of Joel, your eyes widened as Tommy straightens you up, the older Miller brother approached them.

“Now you've done it.” You mumble.

“Oh no, what have I done?” Tommy teases. Before he could say anything else.. Joel yanks Tommy’s shoulder, separating him from you.

Joel lets out a low growl, pushing Tommy further away from you. “What’re you tryna pull, Tommy?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Tommy protests, shrugging his shoulder out of Joel's grasp. “I’m not pullin’ nothin’. I was dancin’ with the girl, is that a crime?” Joel grits his teeth together, trying to stop himself from punching his own brother.

“He wasn't doing anything Joel.” You murmur softly, trying to calm the man down, but it seems to only agitate Joel that you seemed to defend Tommy’s actions.

His nostrils flare as he looks at you. “You're takin’ his side then?”

“Hey, come on, it ain't like that.”

His irritation grows, did you really think this was okay? That this was just friendly dancing? “You really think he was just dancin’?” He mocked.

Your brows furrow as you sense Joel’s rising irritation towards you, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “Yes, that's exactly what I think.”

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest, this was not going the way he wanted. “He was all up on you and you think this is innocent? You’re more naive than I thought.” He sneers, a low grumble leaving his lips.

It hurts, hearing Joel talk to you like this, and you shove past them before he can see the tears welling in your eyes. Tommy stops Joel from chasing after you.

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, turning to look at him. “Get outta the way, Tommy.”

“She likes you, Joel.” Tommy said, his hand not leaving his older brother's chest, needing him to listen.

Joel rolls his eyes, not believing that statement for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. She was just humouring you.” He tries to push past Tommy again.

“It was my idea joel. I thought if I turned up the heat a little you'd show her you're sweet on her.”

“...what?” Joel's face flushed pink hearing that. “You.. you were just trying to…” When he realised that this little stunt was all an attempt to show that they liked each other, it surprised him, was it so obvious?

“You know I wouldn't dream of makin’ a move on yer girl. Go on now, get her and tell her how you feel before she runs off on ya.”

Joel stares at his brother for a moment as his words sank in. Once it did, he nodded, understanding now that this was an attempt to try and make Joel admit his feelings for you. He didn't say another word as he turned out of the hall, rushing back to the home where he knew you would be.

You felt humiliated by the entire thing, by Joel being angry at you, he had never looked at you with that look of unbridled anger. It was always directed towards other people, the ones that had tried to hurt you. Never you.

Joel’s footsteps are heavy, easily recognisable to you. As he makes his way to you, where you’re packing your things into your pack, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks.

He calls your name, and you don’t respond, shoving things angrily into your pack, you know he’s at the bedroom door, watching you.

His heart sinks as he watches you, he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out to touch your shoulder, in an attempt to stop you. “Stop.” He muttered softly. “Stop packin’ yer things.”

When you don’t listen, Joel takes the pack from your hand and tosses it across the room, your possessions all spilling out into the wooden floor. “What the hell is your problem?” You snap.

“Would you just stop it?” He exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. He grabs your arm, firmly enough to garner your attention. Spinning you to look at him. “Why are you doin’ this?”

“You humiliated me!” You quip, voice trembling.

He exhaled, the warmth of his breath fans on your cheeks. “Listen..” he muttered. “Whatever you thought happened, it was the complete opposite. Tommy told me the whole plan, he was.. tryin’ to make me admit somethin’ to myself.. to you.”

Your cheeks warm as you realise Tommy snitched. “..oh.”

His large hands reach out to cup your face, turning your face upright, so your gaze would meet his own. “I care about you a lot…” he spoke after a moment, his expression softening. “I know I’m not real good at showin’ it, but I really..”

“I really do like you, darlin’.”

You sputter a response. “Tommy.. was right?”

Joel nods, his expression growing bashful as he tries to hide his embarrassment with a small snort. “Yeah.. stupid bastard was right.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to stumble over his words. “Have done since I saved ya all them months ago.” He confessed.

His hand runs through his hair again, something you’ve picked up as an anxious tick of his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

It was a question Joel hadn’t really thought of himself, until now. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable..” he admits. “I’m just… not really like that.”

It certainly wasn’t the first time he had trouble opening up about his feelings, but he wanted you to understand that he wanted to try, with you.

“Especially with.. the way the world is now.. I thought I shouldn’t get myself tied up in somethin’ that could just get me hurt later.”

The words that went unspoken, you understood. He was afraid of losing you. And suddenly, her eyes softened. “What changed? Seein’ me with Tommy?”

It was an embarrassing truth, one that he had to face. “Yeah..” he agreed, glancing away from you a moment. “It felt like someone was just punchin’ me in the guts. Seein�� you dancin’ with him I felt..” he groans. “Jealous.”

Unintentionally, you bat your lashes at him. “I was so convinced you wouldn’t like me, I made such a fool of myself.”

His brows scrunch together as he realises how his actions made you feel. He gently takes your face in his large hands, his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing motion.

“Hey, you didn’t do any of that…” he murmured. “If anything I shoulda told ya ages ago.”

With his reassurance, you wrap your arms around his midsection, fisting the soft material of his flannel on his back. He doesn’t resist, although he relaxes from his tense stance, bringing his own arms around you. “How about we start over an’ I’ll do this proper?”

Your eyes widen, looking up at him. “Proper?”

He couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his lips, your words make his heart flutter. “Y’know.. with you as my girl…” he murmurs nervously. “If.. if you’d like that?”

“I would like that.” You accept without hesitation, your voice soft as Joel leans his chin on your head, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t ever try an’ run off again. I’ll hog tie ya to the bed if I have ta.” A soft laugh leaves your lips at his threat, and you raise a brow.

“That right? Maybe I’ll take off one day, just to test you.” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a daring look in his eyes, arms tightening around you as he lifts you off the ground effortlessly, tossing you onto the plush bed.

“Yer mine now sweetheart, ain’t letting you go, ever.” He murmurs against your neck, hovering over you, pressing a small kiss to the soft skin of your temple.

“Mine till the day I die.” He growled possessively, the tender touch was a concise movement, one that contradicted his possession.

Somehow, you had disarmed him. And from now on, Joel wasn’t going to fight it.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fluff #joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x slow burn #joel miller fanfic #game joel miller

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silken-moonlight · 3 days

Text

Older Alpha x Human Waitress Part 6

A/N: Hi there! Finally here with part six, i hope you guys like it! Part 7 will drop tomorrow 😊 also here you find my Masterlist!

Desmonds POV

Suddenly, the dogs began to bark and run toward his hiding spot. They must have smelled him. Were those dogs insane, running toward a large predator that could easily rip them apart?

His mate immediately followed them. "Pumpkin! Spice! Stop yelling at the raccoons!" she said to them angrily, running over to them and picking them up, one dog under each arm. To be honest, that looked utterly funny: two megalomaniac dogs being picked up like nothing. She brought them back inside, seemingly bringing them upstairs since he could see the light there. Desmond crept a little closer, wanting to look into her house through the glass doors.

He heard her steps, coming closer and the back door opened again. By now the alpha was glad that he had stayed in his spot, otherwise she would have seen him. There was a little bowl in her hand and she walked until she almost reached the tree line.

Since Desmond was in his full werewolf form, he appeared as an excessively large wolf. She stood nearly right next to him and called out, "Sweethearts, I have something for you!" She set the bowl down, which contained nuts and fruits. He presumed it was for the raccoons she had mentioned. Her scent wafted toward him on the gentle breeze. Oh, how he yearned to emerge from the darkness and enter her field of vision. Although he understood that it was not a wise decision, she would be frightened. Therefore, he remained concealed as she returned to her house.

His wolf whined, so desperate to be close to her that it physically hurt.

Your POV

The following morning came quickly; the morning sun filled your room, and you got up immediately. You were so happy to see your only friend again that you picked out an outfit and did your makeup quickly. When you were pleased with your reflection in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and said goodbye to your parents.

The café where Will and you met was a twenty-minute walk away; you made it in 15 minutes. Will had already waited for you, waving when he saw you. “It's so good to see you!” He yelled over the parking area and jogged over to you, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. You chuckled: “Good to see you too!” You said excitedly. In a matter of minutes, the two of you went inside and sat down, immediately beginning to talk. “Tell me about your latest travels,” you said to Will, who smiled and showed you so many pictures and videos of him and his girlfriend. Most of them were unpublished and unedited clips for their social media. They had been in the Carpathian Mountains, and the view you were seeing on his phone was absolutely breathtaking. You listened eagerly to every word that left his mouth, listened to every story and every detail. You loved listening to other people's stories. After half an hour, he stopped, since you two also needed to order, and looked at you.

“And what about you, tell me what happens in your life.” He said while sipping from his cold brew coffee. “Well nothing has really changed for me, mom and dad are still the same, Pumpkin and Spice get crazier by the day…” You thought for a moment: “Oh I do have something semi-exciting to tell. So we have this incredibly hot guest, he has been coming every evening for a week or more. We always make small talk, he is here for some kind of business. I think he has a crush on Mandy, and he tips at least 20% each time. I met him the other day in our bookstore and had to leave because of an emergency. A few days later he showed up at my work and gave me the books that I left behind.” You told him as he listened, being silent for a moment. “Okay, kind of weird.” He added and you nodded: “I think he’s like in the mafia. He gave me his card with his name and number on it, in case anybody gives me trouble.” Will’s eyebrows were raised: “That sounds like some of the smut books you told me about. Though yeah it really sounds like he is in something not good. So, what's his name then?”

“Desmond, I’ve forgotten his last name, though.” You said and fumbled for your phone to get out the card. You had put it in your phone case so you wouldn’t lose it. Will slammed his cup down harshly on the table, causing you to look up at him. “That's my brother,” he growled. You looked at Will, thunderstruck. “I smell him on you,” Will continued, still growling. “What…?” You asked, a little confused. Will had told you about his brother. Desmond had been the golden child, who could do no wrong and had been just like Will’s father. He had looked down on Will like the rest of his family.

“I…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.” You apologized. Will looked distressed and said, “It’s okay, really. Would you show me the card?” He asked, and you did. He quickly photographed it.

Desmonds POV

Desmond had a slow day; the meeting took longer than anticipated and was even more boring than the day before. He longed to see his mate; he physically ached. When he was finally finished and went to his hotel to freshen up, somebody banged on his door.

Desmond sighed and opened the door. What he had not thought would happen was that his brother, William, would be standing before him. Desmond stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. For years, he had tried to contact him. His little brother looked so diffrent, so adult, so...changed. A thousand emotions rushed through Desmond, things he wanted to say, he wanted to apologize, everything

“William.” He said softly, not knowing what to say. Will pressed his way inside: “Listen up asshole, I don’t know how you found me, I don’t care. But if you do not let my only friend in peace and stop trying to take her away from me…I will rip out your throat.” Desmond was absolutely confused.

“What are you talking about?” Desmond asked. “Oh don’t play innocent. My best friend ,Y/N L/N, waitress at the Sailor Boy. Ringing any bells?” The alpha was now even more confused but wanted to explain. “William, hear me out. I did not know that the two of you even know each other. I have been trying to find you for years, why don’t we sit down and talk?” William growled at him. “No, if you show up at her restaurant again I will find you and kill you.” Desmond sighed. “It's not that easy, she is my mate.”

William stared at him.”You fucking bastard, don’t think you can fool me!” Desmond answered: “I am not, she is my mate.”

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seungmoonandstars · 1 day

Note

hi again! ~

i'd like to request yandere/obsessive seungmin. it's a concept that's been eating me alive for the past few days!

if this falls outside your comfort zone, please feel free to ignore! ❤️✨

love your blog! okay bye ~ 🥰🫰🏽

Thank you for being so patient! 🤍 This flavor of Seungmin is a first for me, so I definitely spent a lot of time overthinking. Hope you enjoy him!

Yandere!Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 5.2k

rating: explicit/18+

contains: manipulation, a little stalking, humiliation/degradation, choking (sexual & non sexual), reader is a little into it. overall typical male yandere things, so please keep that in mind when reading...

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

He isn’t taking anymore input on the matter. Seungmin is done, he’s standing, and he’s ready to go. He puts his hands in his pockets and waits impatiently, and you can already see what’s happening between his legs. He’s still soft, but he pulls the front of his sweats tight so you can better see what you’re obviously staring at.

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

. ✦ . ✦ . ✦ . ✦ .

Seungmin watches you closely from his side of the table—arms crossed, legs spread open. You can see the soft flesh of his inner thigh peek out from his shorts, and when he moves, it moves, and staying on your side of the table gets a little more difficult with every passing moment. You hardly know him, and yet...this is tough. It's been four weeks since you met, and that in itself seemed like pure luck.

He looks at you like he has you all figured out.

. ✦ .

He was here, in this cafe, waiting patiently on a date that definitely stood him up. An hour had gone by since he arrived, and you watched him sit there, sipping his coffee, checking his phone...wringing his hands. It was obvious what had happened before you worked up the nerve to go over there, but you did. You abandoned the laptop and the work you'd been mostly ignoring (to look at him), and you cautiously walked closer. Had the cafe been any busier, you might not have, but there was nobody there to see you embarrass yourself except for him.

He smiled at you immediately when he noticed you walking toward him, but he was still surprised when you stopped and stood there, thinking of what to say. Even though you went over it in your head for the last twenty minutes, you were still stuck on an opener.

Seungmin spoke first, in perfect english, and his voice was so soft and pretty. "Hello, are you getting a lot of work done? You look very busy over there."

"Yes," you laughed under your breath, "I'm sorry to bother you—"

He shook his head, "No...not, um...you're not bothering me. I'm not busy," his eyes drop to the napkin he'd been tearing into pieces.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"I was, but I don't think they're going to show up"

You were right. Stood up. Whoever decided to not show up was missing out on a very pretty face. "Would it be too..." you switched to Korean very briefly, "Can I join you?"

He nodded quickly, and his smile grew a little, "yes, I don't think my date will be interrupting us."

"I'm sorry they didn't show up"

"I was feeling very down, but I think I'm better now...my name is Seungmin."

. ✦ .

Lucky.

He clears his throat and bounces his knee, "what did you wanna talk about?"

"Us"

"Yeah? I like us. We can talk about us.”

Still he sounds so sweet, so smooth.

The shy, well mannered boy at the cafe isn't here, though. Actually, he wasn't even at the cafe. You were both polite and respectful, but he matched your flirting perfectly, and you were both calm and reserved…until you took a walk an hour later and he fucked you in the park.

The sun had just set, and almost everyone had cleared out when you felt his knuckles drag up the back of your arm, and there was no denying it—you wanted it from the moment you laid eyes on him. And you did exactly what you imagined: hung on desperately to his shoulders, gripped his neck, dug your nails into his back as he held your thighs apart and fucked you slowly. You let him fill you up—you watched him slowly pull out, and felt his cum start to leak before getting on your knees and begging him for more. And he gave it to you.

Afterward he walked you home, and you invited him up, because you didn’t want to let him go just yet. There was no more sex, but he kissed you and touched like he already loved you.

“Are you mine?” He whispered into your ear as he kissed and bit at your neck, . “Hm, yeah, you are…I want you.”

“Lucky me. I want you, too.”

He leans back even further and stretches his arms over his head. A pale line of his tight stomach peeks out from under his shirt, and you watch it like you haven’t seen it before—haven’t touched it, haven’t tasted every inch of it.

“This was fun, but I’m not sure it’s gonna work”

The fall of his face is so fast, so dramatic. You didn’t think he would be so surprised, to be honest. It’s only been a month, but nearly every day together is enough time to figure out that things just don't fit.

“Not going to work?” He sits up and runs his palms roughly down his thighs, pulls at his shorts. “We work great, and we have fun. I’d like to keep having fun."

Breaking things off is hard because of the fun. The sex is too good, and it’s been blurring your judgement the entire time. Even now, all you can think about is getting on your knees for him, and you feel like today might end with that regardless of what happens. But Seungmin is everywhere; he’s always the first and last notifications on your phone, and it doesn’t stop at all in between. Maybe he means well, but you’re exhausted.

“I like our fun, too. But Seungmin…I need some space. We both need space before we burn this thing out.”

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes wander around your apartment. The look on his face is familiar, because it’s the same one that he had before you approached him four weeks ago. Upset, a little confused.

“I can take a break. So…what, no sex for a few days?"

You almost say yes. “I think we need more time than that.” This is you trying to be smart, but you don’t want to be smart, you want to do what you usually do with your relationships; let them run their course even though you know things will get bad, and someone will definitely get hurt. No, you want to be stupid...you want him to fuck you senseless right now.

Seungmin stands and adjusts his shirt over his shoulders, stretches his neck. “Okay…got it.”

Your heart thumps a little more as he approaches.

“You want me to go?”

Eye contact is hard to hold. His stare is so intense, and he’s so handsome...too handsome. The little nod you give him takes so much effort, like his closeness puts some sort of spell on you.

He steps even closer, and gently grabs your wrist. “Okay, I’ll...go…” another step, “can I have a goodbye kiss?”

The smell of his breath and his cologne make you dizzy. Pliable. Seungmin laces his fingers with yours and squeezes, and before you even tell him yes, he’s kissing. He kisses like it could somehow make you change your mind. He pulls back and guides your hand to his hip, “you sure?” hoping you’ll move it to where he really wants it.

But you don’t. You squeeze, though. “Yeah.”

“Don’t make me beg”

“Seungmin…” you start, but you have no idea where you’re going from here.

“Please, I have no problem begging”

You watch your hand slide up and under his shirt, touch his warm skin. His muscles tighten under your touch as you stupidly, mindlessly tuck your fingers beneath the button of his jeans.

His hand closes around the back of your neck, “it’s all yours,” and pulls you close to him, “and you’re mine.”

“No…no,” you pull away and make as much space between you as possible. “You gotta go.”

“I did something wrong, right…what was it?”

Being a little too much isn’t wrong. Seungmin didn’t do anything wrong, not really. The problem is his intensity...his overzealous personality. He watches you're every move when he doesn't think you notice, and he glances at your phone when he sees something pop up. You purposely left it unlocked and unattended at one point, which you still feel shitty about, just to see if he would go through it, and he did. He keeps you away from others when you do manage to go somewhere other than the bedroom—everyone is percieved as a threat, no matter what. A few nights ago you left a club because Seungmin insisted there were too many single looking men there. He was right, but he had nothing to worry about. Seungmin doesn't seem to understand how you see him; he's handsome, and he's funny. Thoughtful, and a little too selfless...especially in the bedroom.

But at the same time, he's suffocating. Jealous, possessive, and obviously terrified of someone stealing you away from him. So, this is hard.

"I'm sorry, Seungmin. I really wish we—"

"Wish? You don't have to wish...you have all the power, right? Let me try...I wish we never met. I wish you never decided to take pity on me, and talk.

You're lost for words, but it doesn't matter...everything you needed to say was said. He grabs his jacket from the chair and heads for the door, but he takes his time putting his shoes on. If he's waiting on more from you; a change of heart, more of an explanation (you didn't really tell him the truth), he won't get it.

He looks back at you once more before opening the door, and he closes it behind him with a slam.

. ✦ .

Two days pass so quietly, and you're surprised. Maybe he figured out what the problem was, the main part of the problem, because you didn't completely lie to him. You are afraid of going hard and burning out, and that is exactly where the two of you were heading.

The office door pops open and your coworker peeks in, "your lunch is here!"

"No, I didn't order lunch"

"Well, it has your name on it, and a note! It says..." she starts to unfold it, but you're up and on her before she can read any of it.

"Okay, okay...lemme have it"

The smell coming from the bag gives you flashbacks to your first real night out with Seungmin. You told him how much you liked the spicy fried chicken he picked for you, and that you couldn't wait to have it again, and of course he remembered. You open the note and read:

잘 먹고 있길 바라 승민

"Dammit, Seungmin." You fold it back up and stick it in your back pocket. This could be his soft approach to communication, but you also wouldn't be surprised if he scheduled your Monday lunch before you broke up with him.

Maybe you should have told him the real issue. You don't believe you can change his unhealthy approach to a relationship, and talking to him about it might even make things worse, but you didn't give him that much of a chance.

The buzzing of your phone snaps you back to reality, and you're not surprised when you see his name. The message throws you a little, though.

who is he?

Who is he? There is nobody else. There wasn't before, or during your few weeks with him, and there is no one now. He thinks you broke things off to be with someone else; seemingly, his biggest fear. So now what do you do? Anwer him and tell him there is no he? Or ignore him and hope he doesn't text again? Or pay you a surprise visit.

Today, you ignore.

Later that night, you stare at the open message thread and think. Instead of typing a reply, you scroll up and read his past text messages:

No, don't be busy tonight...can come over and we can make a mess here for a change

You did go over that night, and the two of you made a mess of his bed, and then the couch. That was the last time you slept with him, and Seungmin whispered I love you over and over as he fucked you raw, over and over. It didn’t seem wrong at the time, because he makes your head fuzzy, but afterward…you’re positive he wanted to tell you again.

Morning! I missed you last night, I miss you right now...don't make me miss you anymore today

Only vaguely threatening in retrospect. But also cute.

I couldn't sleep last night, and I really wanted to call you. Can I do that?

Thoughtful, but needy. Seungmin knows how to balance his cute, his hot, and his…whatever he is—you have to give him that. A new message from him throws the thread back to the bottom, and you read it before you even realize it's there:

I know you're reading this...fucking answer me

. ✦ .

You expect to see him outside of your building when you leave the next morning. And then outside of work. He’s nowhere, and he doesn’t text again—not yet. Answering him is inevitable, but you have to think about your reply.

Home is two more blocks away when you feel the buzz of the notification. Maybe he’s outside the lobby door, waiting patiently. Your heart races when you see him typing again. You're not sure if you're nervous, or excited.

how was work?

I hope you had a good day…

You don’t have to look so nervous

He’s watching. And you're not nervous, because Seungmin doesn't scare you. The watching is a tiny bit unnerving, though.

I can forgive you if there is somebody else. It’s not too late to fix things.

The texts keep coming as you walk, get to the lobby, and finally make it to the elevator. Only then do you look at your phone again.

Get rid of him, come over

Or I’ll come to you

I miss your bed

I miss you

I know you miss me

It feels like a weird dream.

Seungmin, there was nobody else, and there is still nobody else. And yes, I’m here and I’m reading everything you send.

There is nothing to forgive, and nobody to get rid of. I won’t be coming over, and I’m sorry that you miss me.

It’s stupid, and it might make things worse, but you send it anyway. You make a drink and find yourself sitting at the counter, watching and waiting to see his three little dots start to bounce, but it takes longer than you expect. Now you're feeling impatient, and you're not sure why. You want him to reply; you want to know what else is going on his his head, and just as you drain your glass, he starts typing.

I know you miss me. Stop pretending this is what you want. You're acting like a cunt.

That stings a little. He moves quickly between anger and sadness, but he's also somehow getting everything right. You can't deny that you miss him, and you are turturing yourself...but you kind of like how badly he wants you.

I need you so bad

That's the last message he sends, and it’s the one that you dwell on after a few more drinks; after getting into bed and pulling up the photos in your camera roll—selfies you’ve begged for, screenshots from your video calls.

You’re one hundred percent thinking with your cunt right now. Looking at him—he takes the cutest selfies—and remembering how good he makes you feel, and how good you make him feel…not touching yourself is a challenge. You squeeze your thighs together, put some pressure where you need it. You decide you can't give in and get off to this, not tonight, but maybe giving into him wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, Seungmin needs you.

. ✦ .

I'm not going to give you another chance. You have today.

That sounds a little more threatening, but you're not sure if he means it how you're imagining it in your head. What happens after today? You expected to wake up to more than that, but you’re relieved you woke up less horny. The last month with him is enough of an explanation for you, as far as why and how his weird, slightly unhinged texting got you so riled up last night.

But you’re only less horny. And you might text him back over your morning coffee.

Yeah, you definitely will.

What happens after today?

He starts typing immediately, but then he stops. A few seconds later, he starts again. Maybe he didn’t think it through well enough yet. Still, you’re on the edge of your seat.

Do you think I’m going to tell you over the phone? No, I need to see you.

He’s smart, you already know that. He has a big brain, and a big dick, and you thought for a while he might also have a big heart. Or you hoped.

Alone

Alone, of course. No coffee shop talk. But if he’s sentimental enough, he might agree to it.

Why don’t we just meet at our table?

He doesn’t respond quickly. He’s considering it…wondering if it’s isolated enough to get his point across. But you’ve offered to talk to him again, and that’s good enough.

okay…when you’re free

Thoughtful. Luckily, you’ve already called work and told them you needed to take a personal day.

I’ll meet you there in an hour

. ✦ .

You’re late, on purpose. Seungmin is sitting inside at your table, head in his hands, staring into his drink. He looks tired and angry, and you expected a text by now, asking why you aren’t there. As soon as the door opens, he looks for you, and he tries to keep a straight face as you approach.

“You’re late”

“I’m sorry”

There’s already a latte waiting for you on the table—caramel, steamed extra hot.

“…uh, I’m sorry,” he says it so quietly, you barely hear it. “For what I said yesterday.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes, I miss you…I do. I can’t think straight knowing you have someone else.”

“You were watching, did you see me with anyone else? And I mean when you called me a cunt.”

Seungmin doesn’t answer, but you assume that is what he’s really apologizing for. He’s fidgeting with his cup, and you see the same version of him that was here the day you met. The same sweet boy you couldn’t resist.

“I miss you, too”

“You do?” He perks up and clenches his drink.

“Yes, but you’re a lot to handle. You were a lot before yesterday.”

“Please, I promise I’ll be better at this. I do love you, I really do.“ He reaches out for your hand, and you let him take it.

“Seungmin, you haven’t known me long enough to even know that”

“Maybe not, but I do. I can prove it to you.”

“What happens after today? What if I leave here…what if I don’t take you home with me?” More silence, but his face changes. It’s not so soft anymore. “I don’t believe you’re going to just disappear.”

“I won’t”

“Why do you want me so much?”

“Why do you deny how much you want me?”

You try not to look too surprised, but you’re pretty certain he can still read you. Instead of answering, you take a long sip of your coffee. Seungmin does the same.

“Thank you for the lunch yesterday”

“I hope it was as good the second time. We should do that again.”

That was the only dinner date you’ve had. Everything else was mostly isolated; here, the park…but mostly sex. Seungmin doesn’t seem like the type for traditional dates, but maybe it’s because you didn’t get all of the fucking out of your system yet—both of you.

“Okay…” you start, but you feel like you’re making a mistake even as the words form and come out of your mouth. “Take me out tonight.”

He smirks. The look on his face is a little condescending, but relieved at the same time. His smile grows until you can see all of his teeth, and his cheeks turn pink. It’s a good look on him. You really hope you’re not making a mistake, because you’d love to look at him like this all the time.

“Six...Seven? We can meet wherever we decide to go.”

Seungmin slowly shakes his head. The smile is still plastered on his face. “At seven? No, no you’re not going anywhere, I’m hungry now. We can get food later.”

His voice drops, and the drop in your stomach feels so good. Your thigh twitches, and the pulse in your clit is too much.

“And your apartment is closer”

“Come on…it’s all yours, remember?”

You nod as you pull your eyes away and look at his face.

“Let me make you feel good,” he takes a step closer and rubs his finger under your chin, “I know you’re already getting nice and wet for me.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as his finger traces over your lips, and you are…you start to ache for him. Your legs shake as you get to your feet, but Seungmin grabs you by the arm and holds you. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The whole walk back, he’s on you, holding tight like he expects you to change your mind and run. But that’s not going to happen. Your head is swimming, and you can only think of what he’s going to do when he gets you alone. You’ve gone this long without sex, but your downtime was still full of dirty texts, photos, telling each other in extensive detail what you wanted to do to each other next time.

His hand slides under your shirt and up your back once you’re in the elevator, and just as it slides back down to grab your ass, the doors open, and you lead him out with his hand still gripping you.

“Take this off,” he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it on the ground.

“We’re almost there…Seungmin.” You’re spun around and pushed hard against the wall. One hand is on your throat, and the other unbuttons your jeans. “Seungmin—“

He shushes you, kisses you softly, and unzips, “pull them down for me…” You tug at each side until he has enough room to slip his hand between your thighs, and he smiles as he slides his fingers back and forth, collecting as much of you as he can. “Good girl, so wet for me.” He pulls back out and sucks his fingers into his mouth.

“Minnie…my door is right there”

“I know. Take them off.”

The pressure on your throat increases until they drop, and then he rewards you with another kiss. The cool air on your nearly naked body sets goosebumps off all over you, and you shiver. He tugs once at his sweats and you watch his cock slowly appear, and it bounces as he frees it completely. The shine of his pre-cum makes you throb and whimper, and for a moment, you forget where you are.

He grabs your hips and turns you, and now he has you by the back of your neck, cheek against the wall. There’s nothing to hold onto here, and you can’t reach for him, so you set your palms flat against the wall and try to balance yourself. And then his hand is gone. Both of them grab your hips, and his tongue slides over your entrance. He licks, pushes in deeply, and sucks at the arousal pouring out of you until he’s satisfied. Now you're hyper aware of where you are, out in the open…and someone can turn the corner at any moment. Seungmin doesn’t care. You're not sure if you care.

“Fuck me”

“Fuck you, hm? You ready for me?”

“Yes, fuck…please…I need it”

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” He’s back on his feet, fingernails grazing over your thighs and ass.

“I need your cock, I need it”

His arm wraps lovingly around your waist, and slowly…very slowly, slides deep inside of you. Seungmin groans from the pressure, tight and hot. You clench around him and whine when he pushes in hard, and then he’s back out again.

“No, don’t stop”

The tight squeeze of his hand is on the back of your neck again, “c’mon…get your key…inside. Someone’s gonna see us.” He says it like this whole thing was your idea, kisses across your shoulder as you fumble with the lock, and leads you inside, “go... get into bed.”

Your head is spinning. You’re confused, and ready for him. But the bed…that’s good. That’s exactly where you want to be. You crawl onto the clean blanket and collapse onto your stomach—eyes close as you will your mind to catch up with the rest of you. It’s suddenly very quiet. Seungmin didn’t follow you in, and you don’t hear him outside the door. Maybe he left. Maybe he was just getting back at you—stripping you in public, getting the two of you caught. Embarrassing you, or worse.

Just as you start to believe yourself, the door swings open and he walks in, very casually, open beer in hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. He smiles sweetly as he looks over your body, because you’re exactly how he wants you, and you’re immediately gone again as he walks closer, cock still hard and bouncing from the tease in the hallway. He runs a hand through his hair, and pushes it back until it stays out of his eyes, but you can’t watch long…his hand is on the back of your neck again, pushing your cheek into the mattress.

“You’ve been so well behaved for me…” he starts, squeezing a little tighter. He straddles the back of your thighs and rubs the head of his cock over you. “And good girls get what they want.”

You can’t talk, but you whimper…moan a little, just so he knows you’re still with him.

His hands run down your back, scratching before he grabs and pulls your hips up to meet his, and you’re filled up with him again. This time he stays in, rolls his hips, and pushes until you whine from the pressure. “Too much, baby?” Seungmin sounds so sweet, so concerned…and he does pull back before he starts to pump into you. Now he whines and speeds up, comes forward, and clenches the sheets as he fucks you. You push back against him, even though it hurts. The bed starts to shake, and the sound your bodies make on contact is almost drowned out by the moans neither of you can hold back anymore.

A Seungmin slips out between your cries, and his pleased little laugh slips out between his. You don’t want to come yet, but you can feel it rising, and you need to touch yourself. As soon as he sees your hand sneak under your stomach, he grabs and pulls both of your arms behind you. Seungmin wants to make you come on his own—no touching—and he will. He adjusts, and he knows he finds the perfect spot when you start to squirm.

“You…first,” he groans.

And you listen again—you come hard and tighten around him, let out a muffled moan into the blanket. You know he lets go by the desperate sound he doesn’t hold back. Seungmin says your name—pleads over and over again as he empties himself inside of you. He loses himself completely.

You’re still as he finishes, and you slowly come down from your high, gasping for air as he pulls out with a heavy, relieved sigh. Seungmin grips and pulls your asscheeks apart, and you know without looking back that he’s savoring what he did—he’s watching his cum slowly drip out. He places his hand over your cunt and gathers it up before pushing two fingers back in.

“Seungmin…” you’re still panting, face down in the blankets, unsure of what to do next.

You wonder what he’ll do next, but you don’t wonder long. His lips begin to trace a line up your back, along your spine. Long, slow, wet kisses every few inches until he reaches your neck—now he moves along your shoulder, and back up to your neck until he’s breathing steadily in your ear.

“Seungmin?”

“Yeah…you alright?”

The weight on your body is suddenly gone, and he comes down next you, looks at you with his usual puppy eyes, and smiles.

He asks again, and his smile falls a little when you just stare at him.

“Uhm…yeah”

Seungmin nods and makes himself comfortable on his side of the bed, stretches his naked body out, and watches you. "Come here," he beckons you with two fingers. Despite what just happened—despite the tousled, sweaty hair, and his spent dick resting on his thigh, the look of innocence on him is so intoxicating. The big eyes, his soft pouty lips, and pink cheeks. Seungmin looks like he just woke up and needs a good morning kiss.

Of course you listen and crawl to him, but your brain is fighting you with every thought, every movement you make. The lust, the hate, the need, they’re all on even playing ground right now.

. ✦ .

The first thing you feel is warm breath against your neck, but it’s not enough to wake you completely. It feels good—this could lull you right back to sleep. Next is a wet kiss. Then a nibble. And then his palm is flat against your throat, and your eyes finally open.

“Min?”

He shushes you and kisses as his fingers close around your neck.

“Don’t, please”

“Okay…okay,” his grip loosens while his thumb runs back and forth beneath your chin. “I love you…you know that? More than anything.” But he doesn’t let go. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Thinking you can just…leave me, like it’s nothing—“

“This isn't easy.” You choose your words carefully.

His voice is shaky, and when you finally look at him, his eyes are red and brimming with tears. “You're breaking my heart. I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Anything.” He squeezes again, just barely. “Everything. That’s what you are…everything." Seungmin’s face is flushed, and a few tears escape him. One, two kisses across your face, and your cheeks are wet with his tears, too, but he finally lets go, and you relax. Maybe he’s right. You don’t have any close friends here…you have nobody. But you do have him.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispers. An arm wraps around your waist and pulls until he can hide his face in your neck. “Please,” he begs.

His scent is intoxicating. The lingering smell of sweat in his hair, and the sweetness of his shampoo are pushed into your nose and mouth. When he’s sweet, he so sweet. He’s comforting. Even now, hours later, he feels warm and comfortable, and exactly what you need. “I do...I love you.”

“Tell me you’ll stay”

You can hear the tightness in his chest, and throat. More tears fall onto your neck, but you hesitate. You’re unraveling again. Seungmin is pulling you apart piece by piece—every sweet word, every aching appeal chips away at you.

“Please,” Seungmin pulls back and kisses your forehead, “I’ll beg all night…I’ll keep you up all night.”

Saying no just means starting this whole thing over again. Saying yes…maybe you can fix this.

“Yeah…I’ll stay”

. ✦ .

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queermatcha · 3 days

Text

"Evan, just... talk to him. That man loves you and a little fight doesn't mean your relationship is over. Chim and I fight all the time!"

Buck swallowed thickly and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. It was trembling and he felt tears sting in the corners of his eyes. He really didn't want to cry, but it was so hard to.

"Yeah, but you two... You're soulmates! You were made for each other!" Buck answered with a heavy sigh. He got up from where he was sitting on Tommy's couch in Tommy's living room and started pacing nervously.

This had been their first fight. Tommy had told Buck he needed to leave LA for two weeks for advanced in-service training somewhere in Arizona. The worst thing about this was the fact that Tommy couldn't even come home during those two weeks because of the intense hours of the training. Two weeks without his boyfriend? Buck had just... freaked out about it. One word had lead to another and then, Buck had accused Tommy of not even minding the fact that they'd be apart for two weeks. That maybe, he'd even find someone better at a training center full of other amazing pilots. Then, Tommy's phone had told him he needed to come to Harbor - there was a forest fire and he had been on standby all day. So, Tommy had went to the bathroom to get ready really quickly and Buck had called Maddie immediately.

"Evan, please calm down. Maybe it is not for me to say this, but I do think you and Tommy, that is a perfect fit. You'll be fine. Just talk to him."

Buck heard the bathroom door open again. "I need to go. Thanks, Maddie." He ended the call and looked up to see Tommy standing in the door frame, watching him. "I really hate that I need to go now," Tommy said and Buck swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat again, nodding. "Me too."

Tommy walked over to where Buck was standing and the young firefighter looked at his boyfriend with huge, wet eyes when Tommy's large hands cradled his face oh so gently.

"I love you, Evan," Tommy said and the sincerity in his eyes made Buck's heart flutter in his chest. "And I hate that we'll be separated for two weeks. And I will promise you that I'll still love you when I come back - maybe even more than I do now. I don't care about others, okay? You're the one I want."

Buck stared at him for a few seconds. "I love you too. I've- I've never felt like this for anyone before and I'm so scared to lose you and that's because I freaked out and fuck, I'm so sorry, I don't want to drive you away with being to clingy and too much, I-"

Tommy's lips brushed against Buck's. "You're not too much. You're all I want, Evan." The pilot said. "And fuck, I wish we could keep on talking about this, but I need to go. I love you, okay? And I can't wait to come back home to you."

Home. Tommy spoke of his apartment as their home. Buck laughed wetly, more tiny tears clinging to his eyelashes, with his heart fluttering in his chest. "I will wait for you to come home to me," he said. He leaned in to press a really soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "Be safe, Tommy." The gorgeous smile Buck loved so much was now back on his boyfriend's handsome face. Tommy nodded. "I promise."

#911onABC #911 #Bucktommy #Tevan #fanfiction #my writing #well somehow this turned out completely different from what I planned to write #lol #sometimes this stuff just develops a life of its own

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synthetickitsune · 1 day

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Bunny Troubles ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x reader (gn) Genre: fluff Summary: Who’d have thought a man like Joshua could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny? Word count: 1.9k Warnings: i never owned a bunny in my life so excuse any innacuracies for the sake of the plot A/N: this is once again @hanniedream's fault because ofc it is, because it always is

“Uhm, love?” you say shyly, quietly, trying hard to conceal your nervousness.

“Love? Is something wrong?” Joshua catches on immediately regardless of your efforts or the fact that he can’t even see you through the phone. You can only sigh.

You look at your friend for support from where she’s sitting with a bunny in her arms and she gives you a thumbs up before you step out into the hall and close the door behind you.

“What do you think about a week of bunny sitting? My friend is going on a vacation and her parents canceled on her last minute.”

“Say that again,” you can hear your boyfriend pause whatever he was doing.

“Shua, you heard me,” you groan, “She will give us everything we’ll need and she’ll bring the stuff over and help me bunny proof the place. It’s just the living room, so it doesn’t wake us up if it’s noisy in the night. She even made a little pamphlet with instructions and important information and the vet’s contact if anything happened.”

You can practically hear the way he holds back a sigh. Waiting for his answer, though, you already start to imagine the little fluffy creature hopping around your living room.

“What if it doesn’t like me?” he asks. That wasn’t really the concern you were expecting if you’re honest.

“Come again?” you deadpan.

“The meerkat on set didn’t like me either, what if I’m just cursed to be disliked by tiny animals,” there’s a pout in his voice, which is pretty much a sign of your victory.

“No no, my friend said it’s the cuddliest bunny she ever had and that it likes being handled,” you coo excitedly, “And the few times I came over it was really sweet and friendly. It cuddles with me today too.”

“But I’m meant to be your cuddly bunny,” Joshua grumbles very quietly on the other side of the phone.

“Baby I think I’ll need to start recording these calls,” you tease and chuckle when you hear your boyfriend whine some more. “Anyway, it’s just a week. Please? She really needs the help and nobody else is available.”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he sighs, “But I don’t want to hear a word of getting one for ourselves, yeah?”

“I promise,” you try to hide your excitement, “I love you. We’ll be waiting for you to come home.”

“I’m kicking it out if it doesn’t like me,” he warns you playfully before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

“I’m home,” Joshua calls upon closing the front door behind him carefully, mindful of the creature whose presence is already noticeable by the little fence standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you call back, your voice soft and clearly strained with emotions. He chuckles to himself, first making his way to the bedroom to change into something comfortable before joining you.

He secures the temporary precaution once he steps into the room and smiles again seeing you sitting by the cage with your hand at the door and the bunny sniffing your palm curiously.

“Getting friendly?” he teases, sitting down a good distance from you to avoid scaring the animal who’s already eyeing him with what he thinks is caution.

“I just fed her some snacks, so I think she hopes for more,” you coo without really looking at him, “Her name is Lola by the way.”

He scoffs, making you groan too. “I know, okay? I wasn’t the one naming her.”

“I can see the resemblance though,” Joshua shakes his head with a smile. The bunny’s colors do kind of resemble those of the character. “Do you think she’ll hate it if I come closer?”

“Nope, just take one of those and you’ll be fine,” you nod towards a little packet lying on the floor next to the cage, “I promise I’ll clean up tomorrow, I just didn’t feel like it this late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, quickly stealing a kiss while you move to make room for him at the cage’s open door. The bunny stays surprisingly calm, only putting his paws down on the ground instead of looking out of the cage.

“Hey little one,” Joshua coos at the fluffy ball, and you can already see the enamored sparkle in his eyes, “Let’s get along, hm?”

The bunny’s nose twitches before it returns to its original position and after sniffing Joshua’s fingers for a bit, it discovers the treat and eagerly takes it from him.

“I think she likes you,” you chuckle. Your boyfriend then moves back to give the bunny space and lets you pull him in for a proper kiss this time.

“How was your day?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the bunny bobbing its head and hesitating by the open door, unsure if it wants to explore the unfamiliar territory.

“Good, nothing too exciting. She’s cuter than I expected though,” he leans his head against yours.

“Not one word of wanting to get one for ourselves,” you tease, earning yourself a gentle nudge. “Let’s watch something on tv? Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable if we’re not this close. Oh, and I could show you the guide we got.”

The rest of the evening is spent on the couch, Shua resting in your embrace as you go through the brochure together - and him googling tips on how to befriend a bunny faster. Although the animal in your care seems tame enough that his research might prove to be completely useless.

The bunny doesn’t venture too far away from its cage, but simply the fact that it left its safe sanctuary is a win in your books. The television is just a nice background noise while you both focus on the curious creature hopping around.

Over the next couple days the bunny gets quite comfortable. Soon enough it’s exploring the entire expanse of the living room, trying to escape further and you let it - with your strict supervision. The animal is an angel, cuddly and sweet - both to you and Joshua. You were a little skeptical when your friend told you her bunny is the friendliest she’s ever seen and wouldn’t last a second in the wild but turns out she was right. And it also turns out that she’ll be her own bunny’s second favorite human when she gets back.

You can’t say you’re surprised exactly when the bunny starts to clearly prefer Joshua’s attention, but it’s very entertaining that your boyfriend keeps trying to persuade the animal to like you more. It’s not that it doesn’t like you, it does, and it’s very affectionate with you. It’s just that wherever Shua appears, you’re immediately just a back up human.

The bunny lets itself be handled and carried by him, and it’s impossible for you both not to swoon when you see how tiny the animal looks sitting in Joshua’s hands or held in his arms. Treats work well to lure it away from your boyfriend, but it quickly returns once it finishes eating it. At least it’s not jealous and is willing to share him with you, and your boyfriend glows like the sun with you cuddled into his side and the bunny sleeping on his chest.

Anyway - Joshua is the bunny’s favorite human. Even your friend confirmed that much when you facetimed her one night and showed her how her pet behaves.

That’s why it is so confusing when your boyfriend calls you in distress.

“Baby? Baby I did something and now she hates me!”

It takes you a second and another whiny babyyy to process what’s going on and drop the dinner preparations for the sake of your boyfriend and his side chick’s drama.

Joshua sits with his back against the couch, already looking at you with a pout and eyes pleading. You try not to laugh seeing him and look for the bunny instead - not too far away and… stomping her little feet? Thumping.

“What did you do?” you accuse, pretending to scold him as you sit down next to him.

“Nothing! I don’t know,” he whines, turning his head left and right, throwing pleading looks yours and the bunny’s way. “Why does she hate me?”

“I don’t know, but according to the guide this means she’s annoyed, so what did you do to her?” you try really hard not to chuckle at his distress. Who’d have thought a man like him could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny.

“Nothing,” he mumbles with a sigh, extending a hand towards the animal. It pushes it away with its paws with another thump and you do fail and laugh at that. You’re quick to coo over your boyfriend when he turns to you with disbelief written all over his face though, his pout deepening.

“We’ll figure this out, Shua,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, “You’re her favorite, remember?”

He nods, sighing as the bunny thumps again. It’s cute as ever, maybe more so throwing a tantrum like this.

“So what did you do - what were you doing before she got like this?” you ask, rubbing his arm soothingly. He leans into your touch and he looks so miserable that you almost feel bad for laughing.

“Nothing, I told you,” he -thump- sulks, “I was just petting her.”

Thump thump.

“And then?” you prod.

“Nothing.” Thump thump. “I was petting her and then I stretched, so I- oh.”

Oh indeed.

“Why would you stop petting her and then be all surprised that she’s annoyed with you? Do you have any idea how upsetting it is?” you frown at him.

“Why am I being targeted?” he grumbles before smirking a little, “But thank you for your insight.”

You push his shoulder. “Don’t give in,” you tell the bunny.

“No no no, I learned from my mistakes,” Joshua turns towards the bunny and slowly extends his hand to its little head, “I’m so sorry, little one. Forgive me please.”

He pets it slowly, his fingers stroking the soft fur with patience and dedication that really makes it seem like he’s begging for forgiveness. You regret not having your phone on you to take a video.

And then suddenly the bunny starts moving, no longer thumping its legs but instead slowly walking towards your boyfriend before climbing onto his legs and settling on his lap. Joshua beams at you and resumes petting the bunny, overjoyed at being forgiven.

“Am I the bunny whisperer?” he whispers, cooing at the fluffball in his lap. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, and a drama queen,” you tease, but he ignores you in favor of making up with the bunny. It’s a cute look though, so you don’t mind not bickering with him.

“I know I said I don’t want to hear a word about-”

“No.”

He pouts at you when you shut him down immediately.

“Let’s just offer a free bunny sitting whenever, hm?” you suggest.

“Let’s steal her,” Joshua wiggles his brows at you mischievously. You breathe a long sigh.

Then again maybe looking at Joshua with a cute fluffy bunny cuddled up to him every day wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if all it takes for him to get all pouty is a few annoyed thumps.

Now you can only hope your bunny of a boyfriend won’t take on any of her habits.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #joshua scenario #svthub #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #joshua fluff #svt fluff #svt x reader

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b14augrana · 5 hours

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‘Scrubber’

Before you fly out for the Spain camp, you make the most of your ‘last day’ in Barcelona

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 5 masterlist

Warnings: ✖️

A/N: a bit of a longer update than usual, but here’s the fridolina content people have been waiting for 🐾 sorry about this being a bit boring, it ends up being like that when bebita isn’t playing a game and making crazy tackles, but it’s not too far away from happening 💝

“Ale, you liar! You said we were leaving today!” you grumbled, wheeling your suitcase back to your room. Your backpack landed with a thud on the ground beside the suitcase, and you trudged back to the woman in the living room. “Don’t twist my words. I just told you to pack so you’re prepared for when we do leave, since you like to leave things till the last minute.”

“We’ve still got to walk downtown with all the trophies, chiquita,” Alexia added.

“So then when are we leaving?” you asked, and she responded with, “Tomorrow night… maybe. Remember, you’ve got school today as well. You wouldn’t had time to pack anyways and I did you a favour.”

“Whatever, I get it. Can we go now? Where’s Irene?” you said, walking out of your bedroom with Alexia. You two entered the kitchen and saw Irene sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Ireeni,” you exclaimed, basically jumping onto the couch. She clutched her almost-empty bowl and laughed, “I could’ve spilled my cereal, nenita.”

“There‘s barely anything in it,” you replied, rolling your eyes and shuffling closer to her.

You were really tired for some reason. The fatigue of the last few days was seemingly catching up to you, and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and stay there. Alexia wouldn’t let you do that though. She wanted you to come and walk with the trophy you helped the team earn, but you thought she was just giving you way more credit than what was due at that point.

“Ale, I didn’t even do much to be carrying the trophy!” you argued, but she looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a small smile. “Don’t be silly, you’re too humble. You did everything.”

“(Y/N), Fridolina said she is going to pick you up from here and take you downtown for breakfast,” Irene said, looking up from her phone.

You nodded happily. Fridolina was one of your most favourite people in the world. You always looked forward to café dates with her in downtown Barcelona, and she knew you better than you knew herself. She was like a mother to you.

A knock rung through the house, and you almost slipped while sprinting to the door. You wrenched it open and revealed the tall Swede on the other side of the door, smiling down at you. “Frido!”

“Hi kärlek, how are you?” the woman asked, engulfing you in a hug. “I’m good. I’ll just grab my shoes and then we can go, vale?”

“Vale,” Fridolina laughed. As you ran to your room to grab a pair of sneakers, she spoke to Irene and Alexia for a little bit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you said, emerging from your bedroom.

Fridolina waved goodbye to Irene and Alexia. You turned around and said goodbye to them as well, and then you walked out of Irene’s apartment. You two took the elevator down to the complex parking lot, and while you were stepping out of the elevator, you spoke. “Where are we going today, Frido?”

“Our usual spot. I figured you might want one of their pastries to get you going,” she smiled, opening up the door to her car, “Oh, by the way, I’m taking you to school today. I just talked about it with Irene and Alexia.”

You sat in the passenger seat, stretching out your legs, “That’s cool. Can I stay at your house tonight? I’ve been at Irene’s all week,” you asked. Fridolina nodded as she started up her car and reversed out of the car park. “Do you have clothes?”

“Oh shit, that reminds me… I have to go tomorrow. My suitcase is at Irene’s!” you exclaimed with a groan.

“It’s okay, you can always sleep over another time. That doesn’t mean you can’t stay for a bit, I can drop you off to Irene’s if you want to hang around,” Fridolina suggested.

“Perfect. Gracías, Frido!”

The rest of the car ride consisted of small conversations and a bit of singing along to the radio until Fridolina found a parking spot on the side of the street. You hopped out of the car and skipped around to the other side, then you walked into the café with Frido.

“So, how are you feeling? Are your legs alright after all those tackles?” the Scandi asked as you two sat down at a table, “I always forget you’re only 16.”

“My legs are alright for the most part. I guess the win cancels out all the bruises and grazes,” you giggled in response.

Fridolina smiled at you and added, “I’m glad you’re feeling well. You really impressed us all last Saturday. You kept us in the game.”

Your cheeks flushed a pale pink and you looked down at the table, smiling shyly, “It was all Aitana. She gave us the momentum.”

You examined the menu and tried to decide what to order. Frido discussed it with you and when you two settled on your orders, you went to the cashier and bought the food.

You had ordered a couple of almond croissants, an Earl Grey tea, and a grilled cheese. Fridolina got a coffee with a Boston cream donut on the side. While going extremely slowly, you walked over to the table with your food in hand and Fridolina’s in the other. As you placed it down and got back in your seat, she spoke.

“So, are you excited for the Olympics?” she asked, stirring her coffee and taking a sip. You took a bite out of your grilled cheese and nodded, saying between a mouthful, “Really excited.”

It was your first ever Spain call-up. Most people were a bit surprised as they expected you to have experience playing with Spain’s youth teams, and you received invites to the teams, but since you started playing for Barcelona at such a young age, your agent told you to turn them down. Somehow he knew that you’d get a call-up to the senior team not long after, and he was right.

You confided in Mapi, asking her about what she thought was the best decision to make since she had withdrawn from the national team. Despite the new management and Mapi’s reassurance you still weren’t completely sure, but you pushed it aside for the opportunity to win Olympic gold.

“What if we verse each other, Frido?” you said, thinking about the possibility. The Swede placed her cup of coffee down and leaned back in her chair and responded, “Then you treat me like any other opponent.”

“But you’re Frido, not any other opponent,” you replied.

“To you I’m Frido, but to the rest of your team I’m the rival, and they’re trying to beat me. You aren’t playing for Barcelona at the Olympics, you’re playing for Spain,” she said with a smile, taking a little bite out of her donut. She offered you some, but you declined with a quiet ‘thank you’.

As you two ate your meals, your conversation switched from that of football to more general things up until you finished your food and decided to go home. You considered going back with Frido, but you didn’t want to get too tired and annoy Alexia the next morning, when you couldn’t wake up in time, so you didn’t say anything and let her take you home.

Frido walked you to Irene’s apartment and knocked on the door. When Irene opened the door, she was met with you standing beside the Scandi, smiling brightly with both your arms wrapped around one of Frido’s. “Nenita, you’re back,” Irene exclaimed.

“I hope she didn’t blow too much of your money, Fridolina,” Irene continued with a laugh, and Fridolina laughed as well, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, she’s learning the value of it.”

“Bye bye kärlek,” Frido said, wrapping you in a warm hug. You hugged her back tightly, saying goodbye and running inside while her and Irene said bye to each other. “Where’s Ale? I thought she was staying for the day,” you spoke, flopping onto the couch.

“The trophy walk, remember? She’s meeting Fridolina, Patri and Sandra at headquarters,” Irene explained.

“Why aren’t you with them?” you questioned, looking at her with a confused expression.

“Because we’re going together. Come on, get your ‘Movem El Món’ shirt and get in the car,” the Basque replied, shaking her car keys. You completely forgot about the trophy walk and you were kinda hoping Irene forgot about it as well so you wouldn’t have to go, but you trudged to your room and snatched up the shirt anyways.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your school either!” Irene yelled from the living room. That was another thing you wish she had forgotten but the one thing you know she’d never forget.

The trophy walk was pretty straightforward. Alexia thrusted the Champions League into your arms and made you parade down the street with the silverware, showing it off. You did enjoy it, but it wasn’t worth the ache in your shoulders.

Irene let you skip your classes, and she took you straight home. She could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and she didn’t want you to suffer the consequences of being tired and unable to wake up when Alexia came to pick you up the next morning.

You skipped dinner, instead beelining straight to your room. You felt like a zombie, but you liked that kind of tiredness — it made sleeping feel way better than usual. As soon as your head touched the pillow, you were sound asleep.

Irene even did your Hay Day login for you.

Alexia had been the one to ruin your sleep since Irene had opted to travel with Mariona and Sandra. She shook you gently and was very surprised when she didn’t have to bang pots and pans. “Nena, I made breakfast for you. Come out when you’re ready, vale?”

You nodded slowly and rolled over, pulling the duvet to your chin and sighing deeply. At that point you were fully awake, you just wanted to soak up the warmth of your sheets.

You sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes. You looked directly at the poster of Vidić stuck on your wall, your eyes lingering on it for a moment longer than usual. You looked at the picture of him holding up the UCL, knowing you felt the same euphoria just a few days ago as you held the trophy for the same title, all because you managed to capture his essence and make it part of your play style. It was amazing what a notable inspiration could do for you.

You emerged out of your room and sat at the bench, resting your head in the palm of your hand as Alexia pushed a plate of strawberry-topped waffles towards you with a smoothie. “Our flight has been rescheduled. We have to be at the airport in a couple of hours, sí?”

You nodded once again, taking a bite of the waffles.

“By the way, both our matches are against Denmark,” she added, putting some waffles on a plate for herself. “What’re we versing Denmark for? I didn’t know they qualified for the Olympics,” you mumbled.

“They didn’t. It’s for the Euros,” Alexia laughed, pulling out a stool and sitting beside you. The Euros had totally slipped your mind.

“There’s so many tournaments going on, I can’t keep up!” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You’ve been playing too much Hay Day, it’s gotten to your head. Maybe give Bagheera Land a break until we come back to Barcelona,” the Spaniard joked with a gentle nudge to your side, and you smiled.

“Even though you’re playing for the national team and there’s a lot of important tournaments coming up…” Alexia started, pausing to chew her food. You looked at her curiously as you also chewed your food.

“…You’re allowed to make mistakes because you’re still young. All of us have been where you are right now, but none of us were as talented as you. Cree en ti misma, mi chica, y florecerás.”

You had made as many daring tackles as it took to lead your club to glory for the third time in a row and complete a historical quadruple. On top of that, you had partaken in defeating the club your team has never been able to beat in a final. Winning Olympic gold with a World Cup winning nation is nothing compared to that.

“Venga, let’s get our stuff together and call the taxi. The earlier we get there, the more time we have to wander the airport without rushing,” Alexia announced as you put the last bite of food into your mouth and sipped the remaining amount of your smoothie. She grabbed your plate and put it on top of hers, then walked over to the sink and quickly washed them.

You wheeled your suitcase out to the living room and put your other bags on top of it, waiting for Alexia to grab her backpack. When she swept it up from the couch, you pulled the handle of your suitcase up. “I’m ready!”

Alexia smiled at you and nodded towards the door, “Vamos, estrella.”

You couldn’t wait to get on the plane just so you could pull out your neck pillow and have the best nap of your life. You were constantly checking the time, counting down the minutes until the gate opened.

The original plan was for the whole national team to travel on one plane together, but somehow, all the Barça girls including yourself ended up on the team commercial plane. You preferred it, because you wanted to properly meet the team and not on a plane when all you want to do is sleep.

You settled into your seat and quickly grabbed your neck pillow. The airline gave you a complimentary regular pillow as well, which you hugged tight. By the time you opened your eyes and sat up with a yawn, looking out of the window with squinted eyes, you weren’t in Barcelona anymore.

You were approaching Denmark. As the plane descended and got closer to land, a mixture of nerves and excitement formed in your stomach.

The last time you felt so nervous, you won a Champions League title. You were scared but you did it anyways, and that’s what you’d have to do when meeting your teammates for the first time and then playing against Denmark with them.

Do it anyways.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso #barca x reader #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femení #fc barcelona #barcelona x reader #scrubber

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