#go watch the show i promise you won’t regret it

[yvainart]

when you’re lost in the darkness look for the light

[pucksandpower]

Going Once, Going Twice

Charles Leclerc x Red Bull engineer!Reader

Summary: getting roped into participating in a charity date auction changes your life forever

The lights in the grand ballroom dim as a spotlight illuminates the stage. The Master of Ceremonies, wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo, steps up to the microphone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” His voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome to the 12th Annual Amber Lounge F1 Charity Date Auction!”

The crowd erupts into raucous applause. You clap politely from your seat near the back of the room, shrouded in shadows.

“As always, we have an exciting lineup of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from the Formula 1 paddock, ready to be auctioned off for a romantic date in support of disadvantaged children everywhere.”

More applause.

“But before we bring out our first participant, allow me to go over some ground rules.” The MC adopts a mock-stern tone. “Winners of each date are required to adhere to Amber Lounge’s code of conduct. That means hands to yourself at all times-” A few hoots and hollers from the audience. The MC wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, none of that now! This is for charity, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s keep it classy.”

You stifle a yawn. You’ve attended this auction for the past five years as a guest of Red Bull Racing, where you work as a race engineer. And every year it’s the same — watch your drunk colleagues get leered at by moneyed Formula 1 fans willing to pay exorbitant sums for bragging rights.

No thank you. You always politely decline the organizers’ requests for you to participate.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” The MC gestures to the wings of the stage. “Our first eligible bachelor of the evening is ...”

As he announces the first victim, an Amber Lounge organizer you recognize comes rushing over to you.

“Y/N! Thank god I found you. We have an emergency.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”

“One of our bachelorettes had to cancel last minute. Food poisoning.” She makes a face. “We need you to fill in.”

Your eyes widen. “What? No. Absolutely not.” You shake your head vehemently.

“Please Y/N,” Lucy begs. “We need you. The show must go on, for the children!”

“Get someone else,” you hiss. “I refuse to be leered at by old men with more money than sense.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” She gives you a stern look. “It’s unbecoming for someone your age.”

You bristle at the condescension. “I don’t care. Find another victim.”

You move to leave but Lucy grabs your arm, her eyes pleading. “Y/N, the money raised tonight will help provide life-saving surgeries for children in need. Don’t you want to help them?”

Damn. She’s good. You hesitate, cursing your bleeding heart.

Lucy presses on. “It’s just one silly little date. And you might meet someone nice!”

You highly doubt that. With a heavy sigh, you slump back into your chair.

“Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”

Lucy claps excitedly. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this.”

Somehow you doubt that too.

You try unsuccessfully to calm the butterflies raging in your stomach as you wait for your turn on stage. What have you gotten yourself into?

Finally, the MC calls your name. “Our next eligible bachelorette works as a race engineer for Red Bull. But tonight, the only engine she’ll be working on is yours! Let’s give a warm welcome to Y/N Y/L/N!”

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you walk stiffly onto the stage. The lights blind you as the MC sings your praises, highlighting your “beauty, brains, and sass.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

As he finally wraps up, you scan the darkened audience nervously. A sea of unfamiliar faces look back at you, shadows obscuring their expressions. You shudder.

“Alright gentlemen, do I hear 5,000 euros to start?”

Immediately, a paunchy, ruddy-faced man in the third row thrusts up his paddle. Your stomach sinks.

"5,000 from the gentleman in row three! Do I hear 5,500?”

Another paddle shoots up from a bald man smirking lecherously at you. Your throat tightens.

"5,500! Can I get 6,000?”

The bids climb higher and you feel faint. These vultures want to buy you. Own you for a night. Your breaths come faster.

10,000 euros. 15,000. 20,000. Sweat drips down your neck as your heart hammers against your ribs.

Just as you’re about to flee the stage in tears, a smooth voice calls out, “One hundred thousand euros.”

A collective gasp sweeps the room. Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s an absurd amount, even for charity.

The MC gulps. “Erm … 100,000 euros from the gentleman in the back!” He peers into the darkness. “Sir, are you certain?”

“Oui.”

That accent … could it be?

You crane your neck, squinting against the glare of the spotlight. A familiar mop of brown hair emerges from the shadows.

Charles. Freaking. Leclerc.

Your cheeks burn crimson. What game is he playing at?

The MC finds his voice again. “R-right then. Going once, going twice ...” He slams the gavel down. “Sold for 100,000 euros! Congratulations, Monsieur Leclerc.”

Charles saunters casually up to the stage, signature smirk in place. He takes your hand and presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

“Bonsoir, ma cherie. I look forward to our date.” He winks roguishly.

You stare open-mouthed, brain short-circuiting. Charles Leclerc just bought you at a date auction.

Il Predestinato.

The golden boy of Scuderia Ferrari himself.

What. Just. Happened?

***

Backstage is chaos. Flashes pop as winners pose with their purchases, champagne flowing freely. You’re quickly shuttled into a cramped makeshift office and handed a stack of paperwork.

“These are your date waivers, dear,” the organizer says briskly. “Standard liability forms.”

You scan the dense legalese numbly. This can’t be real.

A figure plops into the seat beside you, sulking. It’s your friend Ava, Mercedes’ social media manager. She was auctioned right before you.

“Well, congratu-bloody-lations,” she gripes. “Aren’t you Little Miss Popular.”

You glance up distractedly from the waiver you’re signing. “Hmm?”

“Don’t play coy. Bagging the Prince of Monaco himself for your date!” She narrows her eyes. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck going for tea and crumpets with Lord Fartington the Third over here.”

She jerks her thumb at a white-haired man being attended to by a nurse, oxygen tank wheezing.

You wince sympathetically. “Oh Ava, I’m sorry...”

She waves a hand. “Don’t be. At least the old codger’s loaded. Clearly I don’t have your charm.”

You snort. “It’s not like I planned this.”

Ava arches a brow. “You expect me to believe you aren’t thrilled about a date with Leclerc?”

Your cheeks flame as you recall Charles’ roguish wink. “It’s for charity,” you mumble.

“Uh huh. Well, you’re welcome for the extra Instagram followers.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even considered the social media storm this would stir up.

Before you can spiral further, you’re pulled aside for a “date planning session.”

Charles is already there, looking completely unflappable. He greets you with a heart-stopping grin.

“Bonsoir, Y/N.”

You timidly return his smile. “Hi.”

A coordinator claps briskly. “Right! Let’s get your date scheduled.”

She turns expectantly to Charles. Your stomach flutters.

“I will pick Y/N up tomorrow at 7 pm sharp for dinner at my favorite restaurant in Monaco.” His eyes glint. “Wear something nice, chérie.”

He takes your hand, brushing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. You shudder, face aflame.

“Until then, ma belle.” With a roguish wink, he turns and saunters off.

You stare after him, fingers pressed to the spot his lips touched. A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your brain short-circuits.

“Right, that’s settled then!” The coordinator chirps, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “We’ll have a car fetch you tomorrow evening. The press will want photos, of course.”

You distantly agree, mind still whirling. You survive the rest of the paperwork marathon in a daze.

By the time you escape the clutches of the organizers, you’re exhausted. Collapsing into an Uber, you text your roommate Cassie a SOS. Wine and girl talk, stat.

She’s waiting with open arms and your emergency rosé when you drag yourself in the door.

“Rough night, babe?” She asks sympathetically, handing you a generously filled glass.

You groan. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Her eyes widen as you recount the auction. By the end, she’s fanning herself dramatically.

“Shut up. Charles Leclerc really bid 100 thousand euros for you?”

You nod, chugging your wine.

“Holy shit.” She falls back against the couch. “You have a date with an F1 driver. Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc.”

You chuck a throw pillow at her. “Don’t remind me.”

She sits up, affronted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now?”

You shrug half-heartedly. Honestly, you’re still processing.

Cassie narrows her eyes. “Wait. You do actually like Charles, right?”

“As a person, sure. He’s lovely.” You avoid her gaze. “But a date?”

She tilts her head. “So you’ve never thought about him … you know … in that way?”

You squirm under her scrutiny. “Maybe. Once or twice.” Or multiple times a day.

“I knew it!” She crows triumphantly.

You throw another pillow at her, cheeks flaming. “Okay, fine! He’s totally my type and yes, I’ve fantasized.” You bury your face in your hands. “But fantasizing and actually dating are totally different!”

Cassie rubs your shoulder consolingly. “So you’re freaking out because you actually like him.”

You nod miserably. “What if I make a fool of myself? What if there’s no connection in real life?” You look at her despairingly. “I don’t know if I can handle him rejecting me.”

She squeezes your hand. “Sweetie, from what you’ve told me about Charles, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”

You nibble your lip uncertainly. Cassie may have a point. But still.

“Even if he is interested, what happens after?” you whisper. “I’ll just be another conquest.”

Cassie tilts your chin up gently. “If Charles is foolish enough to let you go, then it’s his loss. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

You take a deep breath. She’s right. You can do this. It’s just one date.

You spend the rest of the night gossiping and polishing off the wine. Curled under the covers later, you toss and turn fretfully. What will tomorrow bring?

You replay the auction in your mind. Charles’ smooth voice calling out that astronomical bid. His signature smirk as he claimed you as his prize. The feather-light kiss pressed to your knuckles that still tingles hours later.

A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your pulse quickens once more.

What game is he playing at? There’s no shortage of women who would gladly go out with him. So why you?

You toss and turn, mind racing. Does he actually like you? Or was this all an impulsive stunt — a boast to tell his fellow drivers about later?

You groan into your pillow. This is why you never get involved with drivers. Underneath the glitz and glamour lies a tangled web of ego and politics.

Still … when Charles looked at you with those piercing eyes on stage, just for a moment, you let yourself believe he was seeing the real you. Not just another notch on his bedpost.

You huff, punching your pillow in frustration. You’re being ridiculous. This is Charles Leclerc. Motorsport’s resident heartthrob. You would be foolish to expect more from him than a fancy dinner and bragging rights.

Wouldn’t you?

Anxiety gnaws at your gut as the clock continues to tick. What if this is all some elaborate prank or publicity stunt? What if the date goes horribly wrong?

The silver lining is that at least you helped raise money for charity. Maybe the date itself won’t be so bad. Charles seemed pleasant enough backstage ...

Ugh. You force your eyes closed, begging for sleep to take you. What will tomorrow bring? With the morning light comes your date with Charles Leclerc … for better or worse.

***

The next evening, you’re a bundle of nerves as you frantically rush around getting ready. Cassie helped you pick out a stunning new dress and spent ages on your hair and makeup.

“You look hot, babe,” she proclaims. “Knock him dead!”

You pace anxiously, stomach fluttering. This morning you half expected Charles to cancel or send an assistant with excuses. But instead you got a text from him confirming your dinner reservation along with a winking emoji that made your cheeks flame.

It’s really happening. Your fantasy date with Charles Leclerc.

At precisely 7 pm, the doorbell rings. You nearly trip over yourself rushing to answer it. Swinging open the door, you find Charles waiting on the step, looking unfairly gorgeous in a tailored suit.

In his hands is a massive bouquet of peonies. Your favorite flower, though you’ve certainly never told him that. Your eyes widen.

Charles seems momentarily stunned as he takes in your dress and styled hair. He blinks several times before a slow, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face.

“Bonsoir, mon amour. You look absolutely ravishing.”

He presents the flowers with a flourish. “For you.”

You accept them, blushing fiercely. He even brought your favorite flowers? This has to be a dream.

“They’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just put them in water.” You rush to the kitchen, pulse racing. He called you his love. In French!

You take a steadying breath before rejoining Charles outside. He leads you toward a shiny black Ferrari parked at the curb.

“Sorry, I told the Amber Lounge to cancel the car they ordered for you. I wanted to drive myself so we could talk.” He holds open the passenger door for you.

You slide in, hyper-aware of his proximity in the intimate space. The car smells like his spicy cologne. You’re suddenly very thankful for Cassie’s strategic use of double-stick tape.

Charles pulls smoothly into traffic. His hand rests temptingly close to yours on the gearshift.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” he says, glancing your way. “I apologize for staring earlier. I was just … overwhelmed.”

You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It’s okay. You look very handsome yourself.”

He smiles, visibly relaxing. Soon you’re chatting comfortably about work and hobbies. He asks thoughtful questions about your life and cracks jokes that have you laughing until your stomach hurts.

You’re so immersed in conversation, you don’t notice Charles parking until he opens your door, ever the gentleman. He guides you toward an elegant restaurant overlooking the glittering Monaco harbor.

The maître d’ greets Charles enthusiastically. “Monsieur Leclerc! Wonderful to see you again. Right this way to your usual table.”

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, as he leads you to a secluded candlelit table on the balcony. Charles pulls out your chair for you. Such a gentleman.

“You come here often?” You ask teasingly as he takes his own seat.

“Oui, it is my favorite restaurant in the country,” he admits. “The cuisine is magnifique, and the staff keeps things … discreet.”

Interesting. You wonder just how many dates Charles has brought here. For some reason, the thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

You’re distracted as the waiter brings champagne. Charles turns to you.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us ahead of time, I hope you do not mind. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes twinkle. “I think you will be pleased.”

You would normally bristle at men ordering for you. But the shy hopefulness in Charles’ eyes melts your reservations.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you say sincerely.

He beams. Soon, a parade of your favorite dishes arrives at the table — seared scallops, truffle gnocchi, crème brûlée. You gasp in delight and surprise.

“Charles, these are all my favorites! How did you know?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Have you been stalking me?”

Charles laughs, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “No, no, nothing like that. I just … pay attention.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Uh huh. Are you sure you haven’t bugged the Red Bull kitchens?”

Charles winces. “You deserve the truth.” He takes a deep breath. “The fact is, I have, er, admired you for some time now.”

Your eyes widen. What is he saying?

Charles hurries on. “At first it was just a passing attraction. But the more I observed you, the more fascinated I became.” He looks up at you earnestly. “You are kind, funny, brilliant … unlike anyone I have ever met.”

Your pulse thunders in your ears. Charles Leclerc has noticed you — for longer than just last night. You’re reeling.

He fiddles with his napkin. “Over the years I have gradually learned your habits, your likes and dislikes. Little things, like your favorite flower, or food.” He ducks his head. “It allowed me to feel closer to you. Pathetic, I know.”

“It’s not pathetic at all,” you murmur. Your heart swells realizing just how long he’s cared. “It’s incredibly thoughtful.”

His answering smile is radiant. The rest of dinner passes enjoyably as you continue getting to know each other. Underneath Charles’ debonair charm, you find a sweet soul.

You linger over dessert, but eventually Charles pays the check. Back outside, the wind off the sea has picked up. You shiver lightly in your dress.

Charles immediately shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it around your bare shoulders. The residual warmth from his body envelops you, along with his intoxicating scent.

“Can’t have you catching a cold, chérie.” His hands linger, squeezing your shoulders gently.

You clutch the jacket, suddenly shy. “Thank you, Charles. For everything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” His eyes are dark, tender. “I have waited so long for this moment. You have made me the happiest man alive tonight.”

Your breath catches at his sincerity. Moving slowly, giving you time to pull away, he reaches up to tuck a windblown lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers trail lightly down your neck, raising goosebumps.

When his hand cups your jaw, you lean into the caress unthinkingly. Your lips part. Charles’ gaze drops to your mouth.

Heart in your throat, you sway closer. Is he finally going to kiss you? You’ve been thinking about it all night. His eyes flutter closed ...

A car horn blares loudly, shattering the moment. You spring apart, chest heaving. Charles clears his throat.

“I, er, suppose I should get you home.” He opens the passenger door for you, hand lingering briefly on the small of your back before he rounds the car.

The drive back passes in charged silence. Walking you to the door, Charles softly strokes your knuckles with his thumb.

“I cannot remember when I have had a more wonderful evening,” he says quietly. “I hope we can do this again soon?”

“I’d really like that.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Charles presses a feather-light kiss to your hand. “Bonne nuit, ma belle.”

As he drives away, you press your hands to your burning cheeks. You just had the most perfect first date with Charles Leclerc. A pinch me, I must be dreaming date.

Hugging his suit jacket tighter, you lean against the closed door and sigh happily. Maybe, just maybe, your fantasy is on its way to coming true.

***

The week after your dream date drags by endlessly. You float through your days in a happy daze, replaying every moment in your mind. The suit jacket he gave you lives on the back of your chair, filling your room with his lingering scent.

Before you know it, you’re reunited at the next Grand Prix. You wait awkwardly outside the Ferrari garage, clutching Charles’ jacket. Your excuse is returning it, but really you’re just desperate to see him again.

Does he feel the same? Your stomach twists anxiously.

“Who are you waiting for, bella ragazza?”

You startle as Charles’ performance coach Andrea appears beside you, grinning knowingly.

“Oh, um, just returning this.” You hold up the jacket weakly.

Andrea winks. “Of course. I will let our boy know you are here.”

He heads into the garage and you fidget nervously with your hair. This morning it only took Cassie threatening bodily harm for you to change your outfit five times. You settled on a flattering sundress you know Charles will appreciate before you have to change into a team uniform come time for free practice.

Suddenly Charles comes barreling out of the garage like an overeager golden retriever. His face lights up when he spots you.

“Y/N! I was just coming to find you.”

Before you can react, he sweeps you into a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his warmth and familiar cologne. He’s really here, in your arms.

He pulls back just far enough to beam down at you, keeping his hands on your waist. “I missed you, chérie. The days apart were torture.”

You duck your head, smiling shyly. “I missed you too.”

You offer him the folded jacket. “I, um, thought you might want this back.”

Charles tsks, pushing it gently back toward you. “No no, you must keep it. Can’t have you catching cold until our next date, non?”

His eyes sparkle playfully. You hug the jacket to your chest, absurdly giddy at having an excuse to keep it longer.

“Charles! Fred is asking for you.” His race engineer calls out apologetically.

Charles sighs regretfully. “Duty calls. But I will see you later, yes?”

He lifts your hand to his mouth, lips grazing your knuckles feather-light. Your breath catches. Then, so quickly you almost miss it, he swoops in and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, sending lightning zipping across your skin. With a last lingering look, he jogs off.

You press your fingers to your tingling skin, smiling like a loon. Andrea winks knowingly as you float away on cloud nine.

Over the next few hours, you’re bombarded by smug comments and curious questions from fellow Red Bull crew. Apparently your “secret romance” with Charles is the paddock’s gossip of choice today.

You weather the teasing good-naturedly. After all, you’re daydreaming while remembering the sensation of Charles’ lips on your skin.

After FP2 ends, you’re startled from reviewing data by a knock on your office door. You open it to find a delivery man with a truly gigantic flower arrangement.

“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?” He consults his clipboard. “Says these are for you personally.”

You gape at the massive vase overflowing with huge, fragrant red peonies. There must be at least four dozen stems.

“Oh, um, that’s me, thanks.” You take the towering arrangement, stunned.

The delivery man chuckles knowingly. “Popular lady. Have a nice day now.”

Shutting the door, you bury your nose in the velvety petals, inhaling deeply. There’s only one person who could have sent these.

The card confirms it.

Thinking of you each and every second, C.

Red peonies are nearly impossible to find, yet Charles managed it.

It’s undeniably a public statement. Sending your favorite flowers in the color of his team for everyone to see. Staking his claim.

Normally such male posturing would irritate you. But from Charles, it feels different. Sweet. Affectionate, even.

You press your face into the blooms again, heart overflowing. Is this what it feels like to be falling for someone? You haven’t felt this giddy in years.

Somehow, you’ve captured the attention of the amazing, thoughtful, romantic Charles Leclerc. And you have a feeling this is only the beginning.

***

“Keep pushing Checo, just a few more laps to go,” you say into the radio as your driver, Sergio Perez, circles the track in final practice.

He’s been struggling with tire degradation all weekend. You’ve made setup tweaks and simulation runs, but there’s only so much data can tell you. The stopwatch never lies.

At least his pace looks improved this session. You watch closely as he enters the home straight again, sparring with the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc for position.

You try not to stare too obviously as the scarlet car glides by. The visor obscures Charles’ handsome features, but your heart still skips a beat.

Get it together, you scold yourself. You’re at work. Ogling drivers mid-session is unprofessional.

Even if said driver happens to be the charming, romantic F1 sensation you’ve somehow found yourself falling for ...

The session ends without incident. You breathe a sigh of relief reviewing Checo’s improved lap times. All things considered, not a bad recovery from yesterday’s struggles.

You pack up your station and make your way back to Red Bull hospitality to grab a late lunch before qualifying. Scrolling your phone, you can’t resist pulling up a photo from your dream date with Charles last week.

God he looks good in a suit. And that adoring smile ...

“No wonder your head’s been in the clouds lately.”

You jump, nearly dropping your phone. Checo appears beside you, leaning over your shoulder with a knowing grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving your phone away.

“Oh come on, chica. I’ve seen the way you two stare at each other.” He nudges you playfully. “Like lovesick teenagers.”

You shove him back, rolling your eyes. “As if. Charles and I have barely even spoken.”

A bald-faced lie, but no need to feed the gossip mill further. Checo just studies you for a moment, smile turning knowing. “Ah, so it’s Charles now, is it? No more Leclerc?”

You feel your face heat. Have you been that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come on.” Checo bumps your shoulder playfully. “I saw the way you two were making eyes at each other all morning. Like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.”

You bury your face in your notes, mortified. Has your thing with Charles really been so noticeable?

Checo laughs. “Ah, do not be embarrassed, chica. I think it’s adorable. The race engineer and the driver, a paddock romance!”

You toss a balled up napkin at him in protest, which he dodges easily. “Stop it! There’s nothing going on.”

“Nothing, eh?” Checo’s eyes gleam impishly. “So all those flowers you got yesterday were just for fun? And I imagined you swooning over Leclerc in the garage?”

You flush even harder. Apparently you have not been as subtle as you thought.

Checo slings an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, hermanita. I am just teasing because I care.”

You lean into him, some of the tension easing.

“You know I just want you to be happy, right chica?” His expression grows serious. “Leclerc seems like a good guy. Just be careful with your heart.”

You nod, touched by his concern. “Of course. We’ve only been on two dates.” You hesitate. “But … I really like him. He’s so different than I expected.”

Checo smiles gently. “I am happy for you, truly. You deserve an amazing man.”

You grin. “Thanks, Checo.”

His smile turns impish again. “Just promise me one thing.”

You raise an eyebrow warily. “What?”

“No spilling Red Bull secrets to your new Ferrari boyfriend, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I know he is muy guapo, but business is business!”

“Oh my god, stop! I would never.”

“Please. The heart eyes between you are obvious. Not that I blame you ...” He leans in conspiratorially. “Leclerc is quite the smooth talker, no?”

You lightly smack his shoulder, cheeks reddening. “Stop it. We’re just friends.”

“Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that.”

He slings an arm around your shoulder. “Just remember your duties if you get distracted mooning over pretty Ferrari boys, yes?”

You make a face at him. “Gross. As if I’d shirk my responsibilities over some silly crush.”

Even if said crush is on Charles freaking Leclerc. You do have some professionalism.

Checo just grins knowingly as you reach the counter. He grabs a plate of food and you follow suit. Settling at a table together, he fixes you with a brotherly stare.

“In all seriousness though chica, be careful with your heart. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You soften. Underneath his joking exterior, Checo is very protective of you. He’s like the big brother you never had.

“I will, I promise. Charles has been very respectful so far. We’re taking things slow.”

“Good.” Checo pats your hand. “No one is allowed to break your heart and get away with it. Even the Prince of Monaco himself,” he adds with a wink.

You roll your eyes, but smile, leaning against his sturdy frame. “I’ll sic you on him if he steps out of line, don’t worry.”

Checo laughs. “Please do. I have always wanted an excuse to wipe that smug grin off Leclerc’s face.” His smile softens. “But truly, I hope he continues to make you happy, hermanita.”

“Thanks Checo.” You squeeze him tight, overcome with emotion. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He ruffles your hair fondly, ignoring your cries of protest. “And if Leclerc breaks your heart, I’ll break his legs, eh?”

You laugh. “I’ll remind him of that.” You check the time. “We should head back soon.”

You both bus your plates. As you exit, Checo slings an arm around your shoulders again.

“You’ve got this chica. Just remember, the heart wants what it wants. Even if it seems loco to the rest of us.”

You lean into him gratefully. “Thanks Checo. Seriously.”

He grins down at you. “Anytime. Now let’s go smash qualifying!”

You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you return to your data analysis. As annoying as Checo’s teasing is, it’s also kind of sweet how much he cares.

You know if anyone steps out of line and hurts you, Checo will come after them in a heartbeat. But something tells you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Charles.

Still … you appreciate Checo looking out for you. With everyone in your corner, you feel like for once, things in your love life might actually go right.

***

Qualifying flies by in a blur of adrenaline and data analysis. In the end, Max takes pole for Red Bull, with Charles slotting into P2 for Ferrari and Checo P3. A good starting position for both your drivers.

You’re on a high as you leave the garage after the debrief that evening. The sky is dusky purple, the paddock slowly emptying out. You hum to yourself, thinking of celebrating with Cassie over FaceTime later.

Rounding a corner toward the Red Bull hotel, you’re suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked into a shadowy alleyway. Heart leaping into your throat, you open your mouth to scream-

“Shhh, it’s me!” A familiar voice hisses as a hand clamps over your mouth.

You whirl around to find Charles pressed against you, eyes glinting in the shadows. Adrenaline pounds through you.

“Jesus, you scared me half to death!” You smack his chest, pulse racing. “I thought I was being kidnapped.”

“I’m sorry, chérie.” Charles grins, utterly unrepentant. “I could not resist surprising you when I saw you walking by.”

“So you grabbed me and dragged me into a dark alley? Real romantic.” You try to look stern, but can’t quite manage it. He’s just too charming.

Charles’ smile turns sheepish. “My apologies. I did not think it through properly.” His thumb strokes over your bottom lip softly. “I suppose I was … overzealous. I could not stop thinking about you all day.”

Your breath catches at the tender look in his eyes. He sways closer, backing you up against the alley wall.

“Truthfully, I just needed to do this ...”

His lips descend on yours, firm and seeking. For one stunned moment you freeze up — before kissing him back ardently, lost in bliss. His hands thread through your hair, angling you closer as he deepens the kiss.

It’s perfect.

After endless moments, you reluctantly part, gasping for air. Charles rests his forehead against yours, eyes dark.

“I have wanted to do that since our first date,” he confesses, trailing feather-light kisses across your jaw.

You clutch his shoulders, dizzy with euphoria. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about kissing you.”

He smiles against your skin, nipping your neck playfully. “Oh, I think I do, ma belle. Why do you think I bid on you at that auction?”

You still can’t believe your dream man wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It seems too good to be true.

Charles nuzzles your cheek tenderly. “I must be the luckiest man alive to have caught your attention.”

Heart overflowing, you draw him down into another dizzying kiss. Charles groans, crushing you closer. It feels like coming home, being in his arms. Like this is where you were always meant to be.

The distant sound of teams making their way out of the paddock finally breaks you apart. Charles caresses your face wistfully.

“I should let you get back. You need your rest before the race tomorrow and so do I.” He hesitates, looking shy. “Perhaps we could … get dinner afterwards? To celebrate?”

Your lips curve in a teasing smile. “Are you asking me on a second date, Mr. Leclerc?”

Pink stains his sharp cheekbones. “I suppose I am, Miss Y/L/N. If you would do me the honor?”

You tap your chin playfully. “Hmm. I suppose I could clear my schedule for you.”

His answering smile is radiant. On impulse, you grab his collar and pull him down into one last hungry kiss.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips. “Not that you’ll need it. Don’t tell Max or Checo I said this, but you’re the most talented driver out there.”

Charles looks endearingly dazed as you gently extricate yourself from his arms. With a flirty wave, you sashay out of the alley on shaky legs, mind spinning.

Pausing at the end, you glance back to see Charles leaning against the wall, gazing after you with pure adoration. He presses two fingers to his grinning lips that still tingle from your kiss.

You blow him one last discreet kiss before continuing on your way. Wait until Cassie hears about this!

***

Race day dawns sunny and clear — perfect conditions. In the Red Bull garage, you help Checo run through final preparations, tweaking setup and chatting strategy.

“Alright, the car is dialed in and ready to fly,” you tell him confidently.

Checo grins. “Perfecto. We will beat your boyfriend today, no?” He winks.

You roll your eyes, fighting a blush. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure, chica.” Checo ruffles your hair before heading to the grid.

It’s a chaotic blur of adrenaline and split-second decisions as you guide Checo through the field. In the end, Max takes the win for Red Bull, with Charles clinching P2 for Ferrari and Checo rounding out the podium in P3.

You rush to congratulate the drivers after, giving Checo a warm hug. “Great drive out there! The tire management really made a difference.”

He smiles. “But not enough to beat our rivals today, eh?” His gaze slides behind you.

You turn to see Charles approaching, fresh from the podium. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, hair adorably mussed. Your mouth goes dry.

Checo smirks knowingly. “I will leave you two alone. See you at the debrief.” He saunters off with a wink.

Charles beams, pulling you into a quick hug. “Congratulations. Your strategy was brilliant today.”

You grin. “Thanks, you did amazing too.” Your face heats realizing people nearby are staring and whispering.

Charles doesn’t seem to care, keeping your hand tucked in his. “I will wait for you outside the motorhome? Then perhaps we could celebrate ...” His smile turns hopeful.

You squeeze his hand, heart skipping. “Can’t wait.”

The debrief drags by endlessly. Finally you escape the garage into the late afternoon sunlight. True to his word, Charles is waiting, freshly showered and devastatingly handsome in a button-down and slacks.

“Y/N!” In two long strides he’s sweeping you into his arms and kissing you ardently, uncaring of the crowd of mechanics around you.

Catcalls and whistles break out. You blush fiercely as Charles sets you down, lacing your fingers together.

“Get it Leclerc!” One of his mechanics yells, making lewd gestures. Charles just flips him off casually, keeping his eyes on you.

“Shall we?”

You nod, face still burning. As Charles leads you away, your Red Bull colleagues join the teasing.

“Don’t wait up tonight boys!” One calls, making kissy noises.

“She’s ditching us for the red guys now!”

“Just don’t go spilling all our secrets, Y/N!”

You hide your face against Charles’ shoulder. He chuckles, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Pay them no mind, ma belle,” he murmurs against your hair. “They are just jealous I get to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You sigh happily, cuddling closer as you leave the paddock. The teasing means well — it’s their way of saying they approve. And nothing can dampen your euphoria at being with Charles again.

At the parking lot, a shiny red Ferrari awaits. Charles opens the door for you with a gallant bow before rounding the car and sliding in.

“So, where are we going?” You ask excitedly as Charles peels out onto the road. “Or do I not get to know the secret location?”

He glances at you sidelong, eyes glinting mischievously. “You will see. Let’s just say I … pulled some strings to arrange the perfect second date for us.”

You pout playfully. “Not even a little hint?”

Charles pretends to zip his lips. “Non, it is a surprise, ma petite.” His hand finds yours, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “But I think you will appreciate the … atmosphere I have created.”

The promise in his voice sends delicious shivers down your spine. You pass the drive chatting comfortably, exchanging soft, smiling glances.

After half an hour, Charles pulls up to a beautiful chateau perched on a vineyard-spotted hillside. You gasp as he escorts you inside the charming stone lodge.

“Charles, this is amazing! How did you arrange this on such short notice?”

He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I may have called in a favor from the owners, who are family friends. We have the whole place to ourselves tonight.” His eyes smolder.

You wander the chateau in a happy daze as Charles gives you a private tour. He’s thought of everything — flowers, candles, and even champagne chilling by the roaring fireplace.

Dinner is sumptuous, featuring all your favorite dishes paired expertly with rich wines from the vineyard. Charles is attentive as always, hanging on your every word.

Afterwards you cuddle together on the sofa, pleasantly tipsy, exchanging lazy kisses as you take in the spectacular starry view through the expansive windows.

Charles nuzzles into your neck, lips grazing your hammering pulse point. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?”

You shiver pleasurably. “I could stand to hear it again.”

He smiles against your skin. “You, mon amour, are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His voice drops an octave. “And it is taking every ounce of my self control not to tear that dress off you this instant.”

Heat coils in your core at the unspoken promise in his words. Your fingers curl into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, urgent.

With obvious effort, Charles forces himself to pull back, eyes blazing. “As much as I want you, we should take this slow. I want our first time to be special.” He strokes your cheek tenderly. “You deserve to be properly worshiped.”

Your heart swells at his care for you. You really hit the jackpot with this incredible man.

Cuddling against his chest, you look up at him adoringly. “You are … amazing"

Charles’ smile is soft, sincere. “I am only that way because you inspire me to be the best version of myself.” He kisses you sweetly. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”

You’ve never felt so cared for — so intensely adored. Here in Charles’ arms is exactly where you’re meant to be.

***

One Year Later

Strolling hand in hand with Charles along the Monaco harbor, you’ve never been happier. The sun glints off the water as he brushing featherlight kisses to your knuckles, making you giggle.

Charles lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your palm as you walk. “What are you thinking about, ma belle?”

You smile up at him. “Just reminiscing about everything that’s happened since you swept me off my feet.”

His eyes soften. “The best year of my life. I fall more in love with you every day.”

Heart full, you tug him down into a sweet kiss. Charles hums happily against your lips.

“Well isn’t this cozy!” An approaching voice interrupts. You pull apart to see Lucy, the Amber Lounge organizer who convinced you to participate in the auction last year, beaming at you both.

“Lucy! Hi.” You accept her enthusiastic hug.

“Don’t you two make the cutest couple?” She winks conspiratorially. “I always knew there was a spark between you.”

You laugh, lacing your fingers through Charles’ once more. His answering smile is radiant.

“I’m so thrilled it worked out.” Lucy glances between you eagerly. “So, given it’s almost that time of year again … any chance you lovebirds would let us auction you off once more? Think of the publicity!”

You tense, old anxieties rising. But before you can respond, Charles’ grip on your hand tightens.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” His voice is lethally pleasant. “How about I simply drop off a cheque for an 100,000 euro donation, and you leave my girlfriend alone?”

A frisson of heat shoots through you at his possessive tone. Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles soothingly, holding your gazes, before fixing Lucy with a warning look.

“We will of course still attend the gala to show support. But the auction is off limits. Understood?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Lucy gulps. “Y-Yes, of course. My apologies if I overstepped.” She nods at you both. “Have a lovely evening!”

With that she scurries back inside the Amber Lounge.

“Good day to you.” With that, he guides you away down the street, tension radiating from him.

You glance at him in concern once you’re out of earshot. “Are you okay?”

Charles drags a hand through his hair. “Yes, I just … the thought of them putting you on display again ...” He shudders.

Your heart melts realizing why he got so defensive. You halt, turning Charles gently to face you.

“That was very macho and possessive of you back there,” you murmur, walking your fingers up his chest.

Charles winces. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to be so overbearing-”

You silence him with a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. I said it was macho and possessive.” You lean up to purr in his ear. “And so. Freaking. Hot.”

Charles’ eyes widen. Grinning, you shove him back against the brick wall and kiss him fiercely. He grunts in surprise before responding in kind, nipping your bottom lip.

“If I had known getting possessive would get this reaction, I would have done it ages ago,” he gasps out between kisses.

You silenced his laughter with your mouth, desire burning through you. The raw protectiveness Charles showed took your breath away. You’ve never felt so safe, so cared for.

Finally you break apart and Charles pulls you firmly against his chest. “I love you,” he breathes against your hair. “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you too.” You can feel the beating of his heart beneath your ear. “Now take me home and show me just how much you missed me this morning.”

Charles’ eyes darken. With a roguish grin he sweeps you into his arms, making you shriek. Laughing joyfully, he carries you down the street toward your shared apartment.

If the rest of your life together is even half as magical as this past year with Charles, you’ll die a happy woman.

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3

unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?

Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3

Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Absolutely not, Robert.”

Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.

“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."

He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.

You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.

"Yes they will." He says.

"I'm boring."

"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."

He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."

Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."

As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.

"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.

He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."

And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.

"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.

You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.

"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.

Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.

You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.

"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.

"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.

You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.

"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.

You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.

Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.

Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.

Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.

Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.

"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.

"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.

At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.

"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.

Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.

You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."

He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.

It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.

"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.

"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.

"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.

As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"

Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."

The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.

"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."

Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."

They all gasp.

"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.

At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.

"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.

"I'm good on dry land, sailor."

Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."

"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.

"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.

He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"

"Not a chance."

You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"No! Bobby!"

He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.

“Bobby!”

“One.”

“No, baby, please.”

“Two.”

“Robert Floyd!”

“Three!”

He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”

The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.

“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.

“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!hyunjin

✰ notes: here concludes my husband!skz series with hyunjin. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing everyone! not proofread and not edited. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix（ hyunjin ）

ꔛ

Husband Hyunjin whom everyone expected to make a grand proposal, prepared a simple candlelight dinner in your shared apartment and cooked your favorite meals. You thought it was just a usual dinner date at home which you’d do sometimes. He suddenly got down on one knee and opened a small box with a diamond ring, “Will you be my everlasting muse? The one who would love to spend the rest of their life with me?” 

Husband Hyunjin who cried and hugged you tightly as he thanked you for saying yes. 

Husband Hyunjin who was the happiest and got emotional during the weddingーmentally screaming, hair-ripping, toe-curling, exaggerated excitement (sincere), and deeply in thought about how he would spend an eternity with you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to stare at you while talking, especially on your lips thinking how much he wants to kiss you. His kisses start with innocent, soft, and warm then later change into intimate, hot, and intoxicating which makes you get addicted to them. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to be babied and cuddled when he’s tired or just wants to be a small spoon whenever he feels like it. He’d refuse to go to work just to stay in bed all day with you. 

Husband Hyunjin whose dates consist of visiting art museums, picnics, watching musicals or movies, evening strolls, and road trips. Sometimes it gets over the moon when he decides to take you to (country) because you’ve been dying to visit the place. He giggled nonstop when he surprised you that he bought the tickets. 

Husband Hyunjin who would always bring his sketchbook and camera on dates just to take a picture of you or make his hand busy sketching a portrait of you just because he finds you beautiful every time. He will show them to you when he’s done. The pictures or sketches will be hung on your shared apartment's wall for safekeeping and memories. 

Husband Hyunjin who drives you crazy when he’s just doing normal things like simply unbuttoning his polo, rolling up his sleeves, taking off his jacket showing his bodybuild especially when he wears a tanktop inside, brushing his bangs upward, dancing? It would add fuel to the fire when he kisses you like a man starved from your touch. 

Husband Hyunjin who brings you food and medicine when you get sick. He will probably take his day off from work depending on how fast your recovery is that it would take days for him to sit there and take care of you. The type to make sure that you won’t die since he would end up grieving so hard. “It’s just a mild flu, Hyunjin.” “Are you sure?” 

Husband Hyunjin who is loud and dramatic whenever he realizes he got betrayed, lost a game, or is just being dumb (lovingly). He and Jisung are a perfect match and you’re the one who actually gets in between. 

Husband Hyunjin who gets shy whenever you compliment him but sometimes he would feel a blast of confidence that he gives you a wink as a response and becomes flirty.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to make a fool of himself, vocabulary just consists of memes (you can blame Han and Felix for that) cringes at his own cuteness and regrets it later just to make you laugh. 

Husband Hyunjin who lets you play with his long hair. He loves it when you do pigtails. You often tease him that he looks like Boo from Monsters Inc. 

Husband Hyunjin whom Kkami wants to disown. 

Husband Hyunjin who tries his hardest to comfort you as best as he can whenever he sees you being vulnerable in trying times. Promised not to leave you alone until you feel better, crack a dad joke he got from Chan to lift the atmosphere (which is effective by the way) and take you to his arms, whispering how he is proud of you. 

Husband Hyunjin who made a playlist filled with songs that make him think about you, scream your vibe, and the ones that would portray his exact feelings. Sometimes he would write down lyrics about how lovesick and hopeless romantic he is. All songs and melodies are heavily inspired by you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to send you selfies, videos of him taken by the members that serve husband material, and voice messages whenever he’s abroad because he misses you so much that he cries himself to sleep and can’t wait to go home. It’s also necessary to send you short vlogs and pictures of sceneries of the places he went without you because of work and leave messages like, “This reminds me of you.” “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Let’s visit this place together soon!” “I’m sure you’d like these souvenirs I got you!” “The food out here is great! Treat me here soon!” 

Husband Hyunjin whose love languages are words of affirmation, physical touch, gift-giving, quality time, and acts of service. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to spoil you even if you tell him not to spend a lot of money on you but he won’t listen and insists on accepting them. 

Husband Hyunjin who doesn’t admit his mistakes during the first few minutes of the argument but later apologizes over and over again and promises never to do it again. He’s also the type that is hard to make up with but he can’t keep it up for hours and just cuddles you whispering “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” 

Husband Hyunjin who gets jealous easily and is possessive whenever he sees you having a good time with his members. “I’m yours, Hyunjin. Don’t worry.” You’d say but you know that is not enough for him so he’d show you to whom you belong (affectionately, or depending on how you both want it).

Husband Hyunjin who refused to get a divorce when you felt that your marriage was falling apart because he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He won’t let go of you easily and you didn’t even make any attempts to leave him. 

Husband Hyunjin who is careful whenever in talks of having kids because your decision matters in this relationship but he would reassure you that if you ever wanted to have one, he will be the best dad your kid could ask for. 

Husband Hyunjin who is the most precious, kind, and pure to your heart that you wouldn’t even want to live a life without him. He is the moon and stars to your night, the sunshine after the rain, the rose amongst the thorns, and the pretty shells you find on a beach where no one knows. 

Husband Hyunjin who holds your hand and intertwines your fingers as he kisses your knuckles saying, “I love you.” 

Husband Hyunjin whose wedding vows are not enough to show how much he would love to spend his entire life with you. “I fucking love you so fucking much and we’re married, you can’t leave. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not!” 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[6esiree]

A Collection of Silly Prompts With Alastor

• Imagine telling Alastor that just because he’s a man, that doesn’t mean that you won’t try to get him pregnant? You saw it trending on Sinstagram and wanted to test his reaction.

“I’m sorry, darling, but could you repeat what you said just now?” Alastor turned his head over his shoulder to ask you, his eyes meeting yours as you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around his waist.

“I said that just because you’re a man,” You started, slowly unraveling an arm from his waist, his back immediately stiffening against your chest, “That doesn’t mean that I won’t try to get you pregnant.”

A bleat escapes Alastor’s throat as your hand travels underneath his pinstriped coat, palming the swell of his ass with a mischievous look etched onto your features, but the way you squeeze it in promise was what does it for him.

“Oh? Is it the afternoon already? My, I must get going to prepare for my broadcast,” Alastor quickly says before vanishing from your arms, making you stumble forwards with a pout.

“It’s only 10 PM!” You try, but he’s gone. At least you felt the way his tail raised up against your stomach, flagging—a sign that he felt threatened by your words.

• Imagine giving Alastor a kiss while you’re wearing lip gloss? You’re sitting on his lap and holding his face in place, your hands on his cheeks as you lean in and plant your plush lips on his.

“Oh, what is this… strange sensation?” Alastor blinks as you pull away, his tongue darting out and tasting the pink lip gloss you just transferred onto his lips. “It’s warm and sort of slippery—oh, and it tastes like strawberries!”

“No, no! Don’t eat it,” You say as you lean in and kiss him again, this time pressing your lips much harder against his, your noses squashing together. “If it’s not supposed to be eaten, then why does it taste as if so?” Alastor asks.

“Look, I just want to take a picture,” You say, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your phone. “Because we look like a couple of baddies—!”

“Ha! I do not know what a baddie is, but absolutely not,” Alastor says, a tendril materializing around your arm, grabbing your phone and tossing it to the side.

• Imagine convincing Alastor to take a nap with you for the first time? You have a lot of Squishmallows on your bed because of your daughter, so when he gets there, he’s seriously wondering how you manage to sleep.

“Where am I supposed to lie down, exactly?” Alastor hums, still fully dressed, as he watches you pull back the covers. “There are too many of these limbless…” His eyes flick to their round, black eyes and tiny smiles, “…soulless looking creatures in the way.”

“Just take off your shoes, shrug off your coat, and get in here, old man,” You tell him as you lay back, eliciting a displeased look from him. “They’re soft like pillows,” You show him, your head sinking into the Squishmallow behind you, “See?”

“Very well, then,” Alastor sighs in resignation, begrudgingly doing as you instructed him before joining you underneath the covers, lying stiffly on his back. “It’s not so bad, right?” You move onto your side, reaching out to cup his jaw, turning his face towards you.

“Well, I suppose it isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be, darling,” Alastor smiles at you, relishing the feeling of your thumb swiping affectionately across his cheekbone, but he quickly comes to regret what he said.

At first, it wasn’t bad, but throughout your short nap, you end up pulling the entire comforter away from him. He tries to pull it back, but he eventually gives up after going back and forth with you for 10 minutes, staying awake and hugging a Squishmallow to his chest as he watches you nap with a grumble.

• Imagine Alastor playing Dress to Impress with your daughter? The best thing he probably has is a flip phone, so you lend him your own iPad so he can join your daughter on Roblox.

“This is… this is ridiculous. How am I supposed to dress this model in a matter of minutes?” Alastor scoffs as he plays with his back hunched. “And the clothing choices are terrible! Like this…” He points down at the screen, a tube top underneath his claw, “What is this?”

“That’s a shirt,” You say as you appear right behind him on the barstool, propping your chin on his shoulder, your chest pressed against his back.

Bless the old-fashioned man—he thought it was some sort of undergarment, like a bra, and the way his face flushes in embarrassment is a testament of that.

“I have one of those, actually,” You murmur into his cheek, his eyes widening and his ears falling flat against his head. “Would you like to see how it looks on a real person?”

“Mommy! You’re distracting Alastor and there’s only two minutes left,” Your daughter whines from the couch, so you wrap your arms around Alastor, who’s flustered, replacing his hands with yours and playing the game for him. “I’m just helping him!” You laugh as she calls you a liar.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Jace teaching his wife how to fight. Maybe he gets a bit too rough or talks bad to you but apologize

This one made me want to pull my hair so many times, so please don't be too hard on the sword-using moments. Why did I do this to myself?

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I don’t want to sit back and do nothing, I want to be at the frontlines and fight for our Queen. If Baela and Rhaena can do it, I can too,’’ you told Jacaerys as you were watching him take off his sword and belt, done with his day. ‘’The Queen said herself that I’m one of the greatest dragon riders. Another dragon could be helpful. I want to fight beside you.’’ 

‘’Are you sure?’’ Jacaerys shifted his gaze to you, sitting on your bed. ‘’I’m not saying that because I don’t want you to fight. I would be proud to have you fight beside me. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into.’’ He removed his cape and unbuckled his jacket, sore underneath from his training. 

You were aware of the dangers of battle, but you were tired of feeling useless. You didn't want to be known as the wife of the Queen’s heir, the one who stayed behind and watched. You wanted to be remembered as a woman who fought and won battles, and helped win the war.

‘’This is what I want, Jace.’’ 

Rhaenyra was on board with you fighting for her claim. On one condition: that you learned how to use a weapon. You couldn’t go into battle with only your dragon to defend yourself and no combat abilities. Being a good dragon rider was great, but you needed to be able to hold a sword…or even a crossbow. 

It was usually Daemon who was in charge of training, but he was away looking for dragonseeds, so Jacaerys volunteered. The latter was supposed to join Daemon on his quest, and bailed at the last minute and sent Baela in replacement. 

You and Jacaerys worked hours together on your sword fighting. He was gentle in his teaching of the basics, but didn't go too easy on you. In the heat of battle, your opponents won’t spare you. It’s a thing Ser Harwin told him when he was little. 

‘’You don't want to leave your upper body open to attacks. You want to keep your arms closer to your body,” he advised, his voice gentle yet firm. ‘’You want to relax your shoulders too. You’ll get hurt if you’re too stiff.’’ 

Jacaerys poked you in the side and a startled giggle escaped you at the unexpected poke, but you quickly regained your focus, nodding earnestly. 

‘’Got it.’’ 

You tried to relax, taking a deep breath. Holding a sword was not easy. It required a lot of control and precision. 

Jacaerys continued drilling the basics with you, very patiently explaining things. And showing you again when you asked. 

‘’Today we’ll work on disarming your opponent,’’ he announced, spinning his sword with ease. ‘’It sounds difficult, but this is one of the first moves that I learned.’’ 

You nodded, and watched intently, trying to absorb every detail as Jacaerys was demonstrating the technique. 

Then, it was your turn to try and disarm him. You stepped forward, your movements light and steady, determined to match his skill although he had years of practice. But no matter how hard you tried, Jacaerys seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking each attempt.

‘’Disarming your opponent is not necessary in a battle,’’ Jacaerys explained over the clanging of swords, feeling your frustration. ‘’It’s mostly used during tourney duels, but if you’re ever cornered in a one on one, it can buy you some time.’’ 

The force of his last swing sent you flat on your ass. ‘’It’s looking like I won’t be buying myself much time…’’ you sighed, looking down at the sand on your clothes in disappointment.  

‘’Don’t think like that,’’ Jacaerys said, regretting going too hard on you. ‘’My fault entirely. I’m sorry. I just…I want you to be safe and ready when you’re out there. Alone.’’ The thought of you being cornered and unable to defend yourself haunted him. ‘’I’ll go easier,’’ he promised as he reached out for your hand, helping you up. 

With renewed determination, you made another attempt, and to your astonishment, you succeeded. Jacaerys's weapon clattered a few paces away, rendering both of you momentarily speechless.

He congratulated you and picked his sword back up. ‘’I knew you could do it, my love.’’ 

‘’Do I get a reward?’’ you asked, tipping your chin up. 

Jacaerys pursed his lips, thinking, then leaned down for a kiss — or what you thought was a kiss. Before your lips could touch, he seized the opportunity to disarm you effortlessly in a swift motion. Your sword slipped from your grasp, leaving you momentarily stunned. 

Pulling back, Jacaerys flashed a playful glint in his eyes as he aimed his sword at you. ‘’First rule of battle strategy, don't ever let your opponent distract you.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron   @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes@thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23@lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10@tabloidteen@timetoten@deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15@daemonslittlebitch@queenbeestuffs@severewobblerlightdragon@agentstarkid@msliz@vane1999-blog@fairyfolkloresposts@todaywasafairytale07@otomaniac@zgzgzh@thebeardedmoon@golden-library@kikyrizuki@hnslchw@camy85@winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

[sserasin]

thinking abt toxic ex bf!yeonjun….

toxic ex!yeonjun

cw nsfw under cut, noncon, dubcon, female reader, jealousy, degrading names, brief mention of revenge porn, manipulation, dacryphilia, fingering (reader receiving)

toxic ex!yeonjun is so much worse than a toxic fwb!yeonjun cause he’s already had a taste of you, and he’s quite literally obsessed.

ex!yeonjun who can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, and he knows he should let it go. but he loves you too damn much.

ex!yeonjun who gets pissed and jealous no matter who you’re talking to. it could be your best friend for years and he’d send you a stupid ass text talking about how you were moving on too fast, that you were a dirty whore who was good for nothing other than being a cumdump.

ex!yeonjun who retaliates by sending the nudes you sent him to his friends, his teammates, spreading them across school. it lowers your reputation and thus, getting rid of a lot of competition for him. but then he ends up regretting it because now his teammates are talking about how hot your body is and how easy it would be to fuck you.

ex!yeonjun ex!yeonjun was a perfect boyfriend, and he’s an even better manipulator. he lies and tells you that his icloud was hacked. and you, so desperate to cling to anyone you have left, stupidly believe him.

ex!yeonjun who soothes your cries, holding you in his arms and wipes your tears away. but he’s always had a thing for making you cry, and even out of sex, you’re just so goddamn beautiful crying— he can’t help that his cock hardens at the sight of the tears.

ex!yeonjun who whispers promises of making you feel better, showing you that you don’t deserve those scum sending you anonymous hate messages, as his lips trail down your neck and to your cleavage.

ex!yeonjun sneaks a hand in your pants, collecting your juices with his fingers before mercilessly pushing two of his fingers on, muffling your gasp with his mouth. “just, be a good girl for me,” yeonjun murmurs. the painful intrusion of his fingers lessen as he quickly finds your g-spot, ramming his fingers into the spot and curling them.

ex!yeonjun whose lips curl into a brief wicked smile as he watches you pant from your orgasm, licking his fingers clean. your fingers curl around his wrist, stopping him from moving (as if he was going to) and look up at him with wet eyelashes and pretty eyes, “i want more.”

ex!yeonjun who pushes you down on your bed, pulling your pants off fully, saying, “yeah? you always just want more and more, huh?” his words don’t exactly make sense, but your brain is too fogged over with sex, sex, and sex that you don’t care. you just want whatever he can give you. “i’ll give you what you want,” he only pulls his cock out, sliding it through your folds teasingly.

ex!yeonjun who grins when you beg, raising a hand to your neck to hold you there, “say you love me.” you blink, saying it without hesitation. “good girl,” he presses all of himself in you, cutting off your moan. he hisses, “fu—fuck, you’re such a good— hole. always so tight for me.”

ex!yeonjun who demands to know who else you’ve fucked or had any bit of a situationship with while you were broken up in the middle of sex. “what was his na— fuck, name?” “how far did you go?” and when you question him, “because it fuckin’ matters. tell me.” only gives you an orgasm when you agree to block the person, and definitely watches you block them after you’ve finished.

ex!yeonjun who doesn’t stop there, isolating you from your remaining friends and family. tells you lies about them, that they’ve been talking about you behind your back. convinces you not to confront them and simply block and ignore. they don’t deserve your time. somehow always leads up to sex, or he’s saying that shit during sex ‘cause he knows that’s when you’re most compliant— split on his cock.

ex!yeonjun will probably never reveal his true colors until you somehow find out— but he won’t let that happen. he’s got you wrapped around his finger, with no one to turn to.

[theemporium]

here's part three with my babies lando and angel ft a disgruntled max f!!

series masterlist

.

“What if I die?”

“You won’t die.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“I am pretty positive.”

“You know, you’re being really unsupportive—”

Both heads snapped around to look at you when you let out a snort, hand over your mouth in a failed attempt to hide your smile but it was ineffective. Max looked at you with a shared expression of amusement, though there was a hint of exasperation at the drama his best friend had been pulling. Lando, however, looked like your reaction was his biggest betrayal. 

“You too?!” 

“Baby, it’s just your wisdom teeth,” you tried to reassure him, reaching from the backseat to squeeze his shoulder but he let out a scoff. “You’re not gonna die.”

“But I could,” Lando retorted weakly. “There’s always a small chance.”

“Then I’ll admit you’re right at your funeral,” you countered, biting back your grin when Max let out a boisterous laugh. “Now c’mon, big boy, they are waiting for you.” 

Lando’s eyes found the dental practice across the street. “You promise you’ll be there afterwards?”

“We are gonna be the first things you see when you wake up, mate,” Max assured his best friend with a pat on his back.

“Max will even kiss your booboos better,” you added. 

“Absolutely not.” 

…

“Woah! I have hands!” 

You pressed your face into Max’s shoulders, your giggles muffled by his jacket as the boy pointed his phone camera to the currently insanely high Lando Norris sitting in the dental chair. You had gone through the aftercare and hygiene treatment with the nurses whilst he was in the procedure, meaning the second he woke up, your focus could be on him. 

And you had seen countless videos of how people acted afterwards. In fact, you and Max had watched a few in the waiting room to pass the time. And yet still, nothing could have prepared you for…this.

“Hey, mate! Stop stealing my girlfriend!” Lando yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Max, who only scoffed in response. 

“Trust me, she’s all yours,” Max retorted, letting out a small whine when you pinched his side before you walked towards your boyfriend who was already reaching out for you. 

“Hell yeah she is!” Lando grinned as he yanked you down onto his lap and, despite your best attempts to pull away, his arms remained locked around your waist. “My pretty Angel!” 

“Maybe you should be high more often, I’ve never been complimented so much by you,” you joked, raising your hand to run through his curls.

Lando frowned. “Uh, I tell you you’re perfect every single time you come—”

“Lando!” Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up as you flashed the nurses a sheepish grin. “He’s just joking.”

“No, I’m not,” Lando pouted before he started patting down his pockets. “Where’s my phone? I have proof—”

“Okay, time to go home!” You laughed nervously, shooting Max a look as he continued to laugh whilst Lando let out a huff beneath you.

“You never let me show off my pretty Angel,” he grumbled like a scolded child. “I made an album for this, baby!”

“You can show Max in the car, okay? Let’s get home,” you bargained with the boy, who seemed to agree to the terms.

“Oh gross, I don’t wanna see your sex tapes!” Max blanched. 

“As if you’re our target audience,” Lando sassed back, causing you to laugh this time.

“Okay, now we really have to get back to the car so you can show Max our PG-13 pictures, okay?”

“Deal, baby.”

“I regret agreeing to help you with him.”

“Shut up, Max, and take his other arm.”

.

[holylulusworld]

BFG (6)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: fluff, light smut, unprotected sex, cowgirl, angst

A/N: Please consider that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.

Catch up here: BFG (5)

BFG masterlist

“Reacher stay away from KJ for the time being. We need to keep things low.” 

You hear Reacher and someone else argue outside of your house. You know the voice. It must be Oscar Finley, the Chief of Detectives of your sleepy little town. 

He likes to come around for coffee, a slice of pie, and a conversation. Finley likes that you are not into gossip and are not from Margrave. Once in a while, he sits at your café to talk to you. - If he finds the time.

“I won’t make any promises if he doesn’t leave Y/N and her business alone,” Reacher’s deep voice dominates the conversation. “He got lucky that you and Roscoe stopped me before I killed him.”

“Reacher, we don’t kill people out of anger.”

“You don’t kill them,” you can hear the smirk in Reacher’s voice. “If he doesn’t stay away from my woman, he’ll regret it.”

Your heart flutters listening to the things Reacher says about you. He tells Finley that you are important to him and that he won’t let anyone hurt you.

“I gotta get inside. I promised Y/N to be on time,” Reacher says. “We will meet tomorrow, and talk about our next steps. Keep it low until then.”

“Keep it low?” Finley asks. “You are the one storming into the restaurant like an angry bull only to knock KJ and his friends out.”

Reacher chuckles. 

“I mean it. We need to be smart. If what we assume is true, we need to be careful. We don’t want to put Y/N or anyone else in this town in danger.”

“We won’t,” Reacher says and opens your door. He silently closes it and sighs deeply.

“Hi,” you greet Reacher. “How was your…” You gasp when your eyes land on his bloody shirt and split knuckles. “No! You got hurt.” You grab his wrist to guide him upstairs and inside your bedroom. “Sit down, I gotta check on you.”

He takes off his shirt, dropping it to the ground. “It’s not my blood.” Reacher shows you his chest. “See. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Your hands,” you remind him of his split knuckles. “You did something to KJ. Right?” 

Reacher watches you walk inside the bathroom to get a first aid kit.

“It’s nothing, peach pie. I had it much worse.”

“That’s no reason to not be worried about you,” you point out as you place the first aid kit on the bed. “I’ll clean the cuts and take care of you.”

“You took very good care of me since we met,” Reacher grabs your hips to guide you between his spread legs. “Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?” He looks up at you while guiding your hands to his shoulders. 

“Reacher,” you breathe his name. “Stop distracting me! I’m angry at you for getting hurt.”

He gives you one of his rare smiles. “Come here, peach pie,” he grabs you and helps you straddle his lap. “Much better. Now, you can check on me while I check on you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you wrap one arm around his neck while he is having a blast groping your ass. “Reacher!”

“My hands are fine, Y/N,” he purrs your name. “It’s nothing, really. I swear it doesn’t even hurt.”

“I’ll clean it either way,” you press your lips to his cheek. “Maybe in the showers to get every inch of you clean.”

“Maybe you should get me dirty before you try to get me clean,” he cocks a brow when you wrap your other arm around his neck too. “Or I’ll get you dirty.”

“You’re so…” He claims your lips in a heated kiss before you can say more. Reacher wraps his strong arms around your body and holds you close to his chest. “Reacher.”

“Come on, peach pie. Let me have a taste of your sweetness again before we go back to scolding me for getting hurt.”

Reacher watches you move on top of him. He grips your hips tighter to guide your movement. “You look so good on top of me,” he husks your name and calls you his sweet peach pie again. “I know you are close.”

You hope that he doesn’t lie. Riding a man is something you don’t feel comfortable most of the time. But you trust Reacher, and he’s strong enough to guide your movement and take every swirl of your hips. “Reacher.”

“I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” He looks up at you in adoration, mesmerized by the sight of you. “If not, I’ll explode inside of your perfect little cunt.”

“Do it,” you lean over his body to kiss him softly. “Come on. I want to feel it.” You grind into him, pushing yourself and Reacher slowly toward you high. “Fill me up. Leave a reminder that you’ve been here at all.”

It took you two weeks to clean your diner and replace the broken windows. You reopened the diner and acted like nothing happened.

If you show weakness in front of men like KJ, you are done for. They can sense fear and try to hit your weak spot. 

Reacher won’t stick around for much longer, even though he spent most of his free time with you.

You heard rumors about the deaths of Kliner, KJ, and some other people involved in money laundry.

You had to hear from Roscoe that one of the victims of KJ’s crimes was Reacher’s brother. Joe Reacher fell victim to his investigations.

Reacher didn’t want to talk about his loss, or what happened when he was not with you.

One night he stormed into your house, told you to hide, and pushed a shotgun into your hands. He came back hours later, battered and bruised but alive.

Reacher spent the night with you, fucking all the tension out of your body. He held you tight and promised that the danger was over and that no one would ever threaten you again.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Sally Ann brings you out of your thoughts. “Are you alright?” she asks, worriedly watching you clean the counter. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you give her a pained smile. You sigh and shake your head. “It’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

The truth is, you are distracted because you count the minutes before Reacher tells you that he will leave town forever.

Reacher never stays in one place for longer than needed.

This won’t change only because you had sex a few times.

The day you feared the most arrived two days later. Reacher packed his things and nervously shuffled around your kitchen. He tried to find the right words to say his goodbyes.

He watched you walk inside the kitchen unsure how to tell you it was time to leave.

You showed mercy and took the lead. There was no use in pretending he’ll stay to be with you.

“So, this is goodbye, I guess,” you step before him to run your hand over his wide chest, gently patting it. “I’m gonna miss having you around to eat the leftovers. You’ve got strong hands to repair things too.”

He chuckles, deep and rich.

“Maybe I’ll come back to taste your peach pie,” he smirks, making you chuckle. 

“Reacher don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” your eyes sadden, but you smile, nonetheless. You knew from the beginning that he would leave town sooner than later. “But, if you want to come back one day,” you place the key to your house in his hand and close his hand, “you are welcome to stay here again.”

“If I ever come back to town, it’s for you,” he stuffs the keys in his pocket to cup your face. Reacher kisses you softly, savoring the moment you melt into him.

You wrap your arms around his waistline and hide your face in his chest. Fuck, you will miss him like hell. “If you ever come back, I’ll be very happy. The dog too.”

He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you to hold you for a while. Reacher whispers your name and kisses your temple a few times before parting from you.

“I should go now,” he whispers.

“I know…”

You reluctantly let go of Reacher and turn to leave the kitchen to have a moment to calm down and push the tears away. You take deep breaths and try not to cry when he follows you.

“If you ever need my help,” he cups your face, “I left a number on your nightstand. She’s a friend and knows how to find me.”

“Okay,” you swallow thickly. “I want you to be careful. Don’t make me find you to slap your ass.”

He chuckles. “I promise to watch my back.” Reacher kisses you one last time. “I swear.”

“Good.”

You watch him step out of your house and wring your hands.

Watching Reacher walk away is hard. It breaks your heart because he takes a part of you with him. 

He managed to worm his way into your heart within a few weeks, and you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this whirlwind romance, or whatever you want to call what you had with him.

When he’s out of sight you close the door and start to cry.

“Fuck,” you curse yourself for falling for him.

How could you do this to yourself?

BFG (7)

Tags in reblog.

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝ : and i promise, this time i won’t be late.

PAIRING! idol!wonbin x fem!reader GENRE! fluff, angst (quite a bit this time i think) WARNING! just wonbin tryna be a good bf alsooo not proofread WC 2.5k

NOTE! smth shorter to make up for the fact that i haven't written anything in ages, sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth it will happen again

wonbin finds himself praying that you're still awake right now. he looks down at his phone for the thousandth time, wincing every time the minute changes.

it is currently 1:06 in the morning. running an anxious hand through his hair, he continues to glare at the time being displayed as though it would go back a few hours if he stared hard enough. he thinks about sending you a message to verify whether or not you're still up, but decides against it with a shake of his head. he already feels terrible, and he thinks that if you happen to be asleep right now and wake up to his sorry, pathetic message the next day, it'd only make him feel worse.

lost in thought, wonbin doesn’t even feel the arm that wraps around his stiff shoulders until the person touching him decides to speak. “you’re coming with us, right?” sungchan asks, causing wonbin to look up for the first time in what feels like hours.

all the boy can utter is a “what?”, meeting the eyes of his taller group mate. “the corner store down the road is still open,” sungchan explains, “we’ve been talking about stopping there since practice ended. were you not listening?”

wonbin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair once more. he hadn’t been listening, of course, because the moment practice ended the only thing on his mind was getting back home to you. it wasn’t a rare occurrence, but practice only seemed to drag longer than normal today, and while wonbin knows that you’ve always been understanding of the fact that he comes home late, he can’t help but feel apologetic. he tells himself that he owes it to you to come home on time just once, and he’s blown it again.

1:10 in the morning. “sorry,” wonbin breathes, “i can’t go.” he doesn’t say anything more than that, and he doesn’t have to. sungchan drops his arm from the younger boy’s shoulders, instead opting to pat him on the back reassuringly. in the same sense that this isn’t wonbin’s first time coming home late, it also isn’t the first time he’s had to bail on his friends in exchange for arriving at your shared apartment just a bit earlier, even if it doesn’t make much of a difference. despite everything, wonbin is still late, and there’s no changing that.

sungchan nods, “next time, then.” wonbin offers him a nod in return, and the older boy only gives him a smile and a wave before turning around to catch up with everyone else. wonbin is frozen for a moment, watching the silhouettes of his group mates get smaller and smaller before he finally begins the journey back to you.

1:45 in the morning. wonbin holds his breath as he opens the door to your apartment, making very minimal noise. he still prays that you’re awake, but can’t blame you if you aren’t.

he wants to call out to you, the same way he wanted to send you a text earlier, and the same way he wanted to arrive at a reasonable time for once. he keeps his teeth clenched.

it’s 1:50 by the time wonbin stops in front of your shared bedroom. you’re sleeping— he’s sure of it. despite this, he still can’t find it in him to regret making an attempt to come home sooner. he knows that you’d appreciate it if you knew.

he pushes open the door and there you are, a tense look adorning your face as you sleep. he takes note of how you likely weren’t even sure if he would be home on time or not, yet you still stayed to your side of the bed. whether it be due to routine or simply because you were hoping that he’d show up, his heart drops nonetheless.

he quietly walks over to you, pausing when he reaches your side. he had wished for you to be awake up until this moment, but finds it ironic that he currently doesn’t want to wake you. he doesn’t even realize that he’s subconsciously moving hair away from your face until it’s too late, and does nothing to stop himself once he notices.

letting his hand drift down slightly to stroke the side of your face, he releases a shaky sigh. “i’m sorry, my sweet girl,” he whispers, watching with somber eyes as your expression softens as if you’re able to sense his presence in your sleep.

he makes his way over to his side of the bed and he knows that you won’t be affected by the way the mattress dips slightly as he lies down, because he’s done it so many times and you’ve never once woken up from it.

2:01 in the morning. wonbin hates that he can only lie beside you for a few hours before having to leave again, before you even get the chance to open your eyes. it’ll be as if he was never there. it’s completely out of his control, and wonbin knows that, but he hates it. you’d tell him that it’s alright, the same way you’ve done several times, but he hates it. he hates every bit of it.

it’s 11:01 in the morning by the time you wake up, and you don’t need to turn around in order to know that you’re the only person in the room. wonbin had been here, this much you know, and you wish that you had stayed awake longer if it meant being able to see him, even for a moment. you wish that you had woken up abruptly at some point last night if it meant being able to see his sleeping face.

you don’t dwell on the thought for long— you never do, knowing that it’d only make your situation a lot harder to deal with. you feel around your bedside table in search of your phone, not having the strength to get out of bed just yet.

strike one, you think to yourself. on the rare occasion that you wake up and wonbin is by your side, he always lightheartedly scolds you for checking your phone first thing in the morning. he’d disapprove if he saw you right now, but he isn’t here to stop you, so you do it anyway. coincidentally, the only notifications on display are from the boy in question.

[6:23 AM] my bin <3: hiii babe

[6:25 AM] my bin <3: call me when u get the chance!!!!! i’ll be available (i will literally drop everything and pick up)

[6:26 AM] my bin <3: i love u pretty ….. 🤮

your mood lifts just by seeing his name on your screen, a surge of energy coursing through your body. you decide to go about your normal routine, the idea of calling your boyfriend never leaving your mind.

it’s 11:20 by the time you make it downstairs, everything looking the exact same way you left it. wonbin is nothing if not organized; if there’s any disarray in your apartment, it’s all from you. unfortunately, this means that there’s not many traces of your boyfriend left behind, and you often hope for him to forget to hang up his coat or line up his shoes by the door just to prove that he’s there.

you walk into the kitchen and the first thing you take note of is that you still haven’t taken out the trash. strike two, you think.

you made a mental note to take care of it a few days ago and you still have yet to do so. wonbin hasn’t been around enough lately to notice, but you know he’d jokingly give you a roll of his eyes if he saw the way it’s practically overflowing right now before proceeding to take it out himself. he’d do the same with the dishes piled up in the sink, chatting away with you while he took care of everything like it was no problem, and to him, it really wasn’t.

god, you miss him.

you pull out your phone, disregarding everything else as you click on his contact and hold the device up to your ear. it rings only 4 times before you hear wonbin on the other end.

“i was hoping you’d call,” he says, and you faintly hear the voices of his group mates in the background. you almost let out a laugh at his words, just to fill the silence, but it only comes out as a quick exhale. “why wouldn’t i? you told me to. and i would’ve, even if you didn’t tell me to,” you murmur, your words leaving you faster than you wanted them to.

“i just don’t feel like i deserve it, i guess,” he replies. you’re about to ask him to elaborate before he continues. “i stopped by last night. i’m sorry i couldn’t come sooner, i really tried.” you pause at his choice of words, wondering if he even noticed that he said “stopped by” rather than something along the lines of “came home”, as if the two of you don’t live together.

you shake your head, deciding that you’re looking too much into it solely because not being able to see your boyfriend is taking a toll on you. “don’t apologize, bin,” you exhale, “i’ve told you a million times i understand. there’s not really anything you can do about it.”

you know he’s probably shaking his head on the other side of the phone, or running a nervous hand through his hair the way he always does. “i know, just- i’m sorry. i want to see you.” you nod, and he doesn’t see it. “i want to see you, too,” you reply. “should i wait up until 3am today?” your words are meant to be taken as a joke, but wonbin immediately retaliates. “you better not! your beauty sleep comes before anything else.”

you talk with him about anything that comes to mind and it’s as easy as it always is. when he tells you that he has to leave and get back to practicing, the two of you exchange prolonged “goodbye’s” and “i love you’s” before you finally pull the phone away from your ear with a sigh. you think that hearing his voice only made you miss him more.

when you look up from the phone you’re once again greeted with the trash can, as filled to the brim as ever, and you think taking it out would make for a good distraction. not far from it, the dishes are still piled up, and you consider washing them. you don’t, though. strike three.

you spend the rest of the day going through the motions, body moving on autopilot as it does quite often lately, and at the end of it all you look back on everything and think that it had all been normal— aside from the fact that wonbin doesn’t come home.

despite his initial protests, you’re awake until 3:26 in the morning. you’re not sure what time he arrived home last night, but you think that it couldn’t have been later than this.

you had made sure to take a nap at some point during the day just so you could be awake at this moment, to see your lover, talk to him, even if it had only been for a few minutes.

you shoot him a text, praying that the urgency you feel can be expressed through the little amount of words you send. you fall asleep waiting for his response, only to wake up to an empty phone, and an even emptier bed.

if there was barely any traces of wonbin in your shared apartment before, there definitely isn’t now; his lack of presence was evident the day before despite the fact that he had been there for merely a few hours, but after last night?

for a moment, it almost feels as though you live by yourself.

12:03 in the afternoon. swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you make an attempt to go about your routine as normal. you can already picture the sight you’ll be greeted with downstairs— an overflowing trash can, the accumulating dishes in the sink, only this time, there’s no messages from wonbin asking for you to give him a call or telling you that he loves you.

to your surprise, by the time you manage to trudge downstairs, you aren’t greeted by any of those things.

the trash can that had been previously close to spilling over has been emptied, an empty bag now taking its place. there’s no dishes in the sink, all of them instead sitting in the dish rack waiting to dry. before you’re able to turn around and demand an explanation, you feel arms wrapping around your waist, and you swear that your eyes almost fill up with tears.

“my sweet girl, i missed you,” wonbin utters from behind you, and in an instant, you’re spinning your body around and returning his embrace. he can sense that you’re about to ask him a myriad of questions, and opts to continue talking before you can get a word in. “i’ve only been here for about an hour or so. i’m sorry i couldn’t come home last night, baby.”

you shake your head, about to offer him the same reassurance you always do, when he begins to speak again. “i practiced until super late last night. i wanted to finish learning the choreography as fast as possible—“ you open your mouth to scold him, pulling away from his chest momentarily when he cuts you off for what feels like the thousandth time. “—and before you yell at me, it was for a good reason,” he pouts, waiting for you to press your lips into a tight line before starting to speak again.

“i overexerted myself a bit, i think, but it was all worth it. i’m all yours for the next few days,” he finishes, a hand stroking the back of your head. the two of you stand there for a while. “i love you’s” and “i missed you’s” are exchanged rather than goodbyes, and neither of you are willing to move from your positions, blissfully unaware of the passage of time for once. it’s alright, though— you both have time. a lot of it.

for a moment, wonbin gets the urge to apologize again, whether it be for all the times he’s arrived home late, or for leaving you alone with an overflowing trash can or a sink full of dishes, but it’s almost as if you’re able to read his mind. “don’t feel sorry anymore, bin,” he hears you say, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. he only nods, the words dying on his tongue. he decides that he’ll accept your reassurance just this once.

wonbin isn’t sorry, because this time, he isn’t late.

AUTHOR’S NOTE! beabadoobee my wife

[ahqkas]

Hi!!! Wondering if you could do a part 2 to the piece you wrote about Theo trying to get you back after breaking up?

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE NEXT EVENING, YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING IN FRONT OF AN UNFAMILIAR RESTAURANT, this time with a nervous flutter in your chest. you agreed to meet up with theodore after your conversation. a decision you might regret or cherish later on. he was waiting for you, looking uncharacteristically anxious. but he moment he saw you, his expression softened, and he offered a small, almost shy smile.

"hi," theo greeted with a gentle voice. "you look beautiful."

"thanks," you replied, your voice a little shaky but genuine. "you look nice too."

the atmosphere between you two was tentative, a mix of old familiarity and new uncertainty. as you walked together to a small, cozy restaurant on the outskirts of the village, theo was respectful, maintaining a careful distance. it was clear he didn’t want to push any boundaries. you appreciated the effort, recognizing it as one of the many ways he was trying to show that he was different now.

dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. theodore was attentive, asking you about your day, your interests, things you had done since the breakup. he seemed genuinely interested in your answers, listening intently in a way he never had before. the conversation flowed easily, without the sharp edges that used to accompany your interactions in the past if your relationship. it felt . . . nice.

throughout the evening, theo’s actions spoke volumes. he held doors open for you, pulled out your chair, and made sure you were comfortable. when the waiter brought out the dessert, a slice of your favorite cake, theo smiled at your surprised expression.

"i remembered you liked this," he said softly, watching as you took a bite.

the gesture touched you, a small but meaningful sign that he had been paying attention, even when you thought he hadn’t. it was like he was trying to show you that he had been listening all along, just unable to act on it until now.

as the night drew to a close, he walked you back to your home, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over the grounds around you and when you reached the entrance, theo hesitated, turning to face you. his eyes, deep and earnest, searched yours as if seeking permission for what he was about to say.

"i really enjoyed tonight," his voice was laced with sincerity. "thank you for giving me a chance."

you offered him a small smile, feeling the warmth of his words seep into your chest. "i did too," you admitted, surprising even yourself.

he seemed relieved, a soft breath escaping him. "i won’t push you for anything more, i promise. i just . . . i’m grateful you’re giving me the opportunity to prove that i’ve changed."

with that, he said goodnight, his hand lingering for a moment as if he wanted to reach out and touch you, but he pulled back. you watched him go, thinking of the way he was tonight. theo was a changed man. a better version of himself. and he did all that just for you.

the next morning, you awoke with a feeling of cautious optimism. the date had been better than you had expected, and while you weren’t ready to dive headfirst back into a relationship with him, you were open to seeing where things could go.

as you sat up in bed, your eyes caught something on the nightstand that hadn’t been there the night before. a bouquet of white tulips, their petals fresh and dewy, was arranged neatly in a small vase. a note was tucked among the flowers, and with a curious frown, you reached for it.

unfolding the paper, you recognized theo’s neat handwriting:

White tulips symbolize renewal—something I’m hoping for with us. Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise I won’t waste it.

your heart clenched at the words. the tulips were perfect — elegant, beautiful, and full of meaning. they weren’t extravagant or showy, just like the date had been; simple and sincere, a reflection of the new theo who was trying so hard to be the person you deserved.

you set the note down, your fingers brushing over the soft petals of the tulips. for the first time in a long while, you felt a genuine sense of hope. maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something new — something better.

perhaps giving theo a chance wasn’t that bad of an idea, after all.

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) PART SEVEN

The sun is barely out now while the darkness is slowly covering the sky. You’re seeing shadows within the woods, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s getting cold and you’re probably about a mile away from where Mike, Marcus and Armando were. You’re starting to regret walking away from them but what else were you supposed to do. Sit around and let McGrath find you since that’s what he’s been doing.

So you kept walking until you heard a soft sound of wood snapping which made you turn around. You couldn’t really see so you just stared into the abyss. Someone was most definitely there, the thought of it maybe being McGrath crossed your mind.

“Reveal yourself, I don’t have time for the games.”, you sighed trying to see past the trees. At this point the sun was completely gone and the moon was shining. Allowing you to see a tall dark figure move from behind the tree. You watched as the person started taking small steps towards you, it was Armando. Turning back around, you started to walk again when you noticed that the sound of branches and leaves started happening rapidly. He was running towards you so you started running too. Now we can play his games. You ran as fast as you could to get away from him, making random turns to confuse him. 

“Y/n! Stop!”He screamed while chasing you but you kept running. You tried picking up speed but were too tired so you stopped.

“Armando, have you been following me the whole fucking time.”, you asked,looking at him as he is also out of breath while walking up to you. You knew he was but wanted to play dumb, it was better that way.

“Y/n,you’re a smart girl, you knew that I was.”, he responded back pointing at you. You didn’t like how easy he could read you. How he knows you so well without really knowing you.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone man. I don’t need you.”, you knew that was a lie but it was better to say that then have Armando and the others involved in your mess when the whole purpose with us being out here is to prove Howard’s innocence.

He looked down at you, although you couldn’t entirely see his face, his eyes nearly glowed in the dark. “I don’t make promises at all because things always happen but you can trust me. Even if I don’t like you. I wouldn’t want my…a woman out here by herself. No matter what kind of “killer” I am.”, he explained, going off. He was mad and you could tell. His eyebrows were now caved in and you could tell that his breathing had picked up in speed.

You looked down and grabbed his hand and caressed his forearm. You weren’t sure whether to trust him or not, but you had no choice. You knew it would be a death sentence if you went to McGrath by yourself. You turned to look to the side and saw how you guys were overpowered by darkness, so you accepted your loss.

ARMANDO’S    POV

I watched as she looked around while rubbing my arm. Her hands were soft and her touch was making my friend smile. I could tell that she didn’t want to go back but honestly, she had no choice. I wouldn’t have allowed her to walk out here by herself, I would be a fool. 

“Come back with me, please.”, I begged. Me…Armando…Begging, this is new. 

She turned around and was now looking up at me. Her skin was as smooth as the night time, while her eyes twinkled. Damn, she’s sexy and the way she stares. I would love to see her staring at me from a different position.

“Focus.”, I whispered to myself. I watched as her facial expression changed from being worried to now being confused. Think of something.

“You..need to focus.”, I added, trying to come up with something. I watched as she shook her head in agreement.

“Well, show me the way.”, she replied, letting go of my arms and folding hers. I turned around and started heading towards  the direction that we came from. 

“Do you remember the way?”, she asked following behind me. Honestly, I didn’t but I also know that if Marcus and Mike did what they were supposed to do. We should be seeing a small fire from a distance.

“Yeah so come hold my hand so you won’t get lost.”, I commanded, handing my hand out behind me for her to grab. I was afraid that she would be hesitant to do so and for a second, all I could feel was air going in between my fingers. However once she connected her hands with mine, I could feel the warmth from our bodies connecting. It made me feel odd, a feeling I've never felt before. 

After a couple turns and a couple minutes of running, I spotted Marcus and Mike near the fire that I told them to make. We eventually met up with them and were greeted by the sounds of the woods. Not a single word was said. We both sat down, Y/n and I on one log and Marcus and Mike on the other. We could see each other clearly now due to the fire blooming out.

“So you’ve come back.”, Mike whispered looking at y/n across the fire. 

I watched as Marcus turned at Mike and whispered something to him. Y/n just stared. I wasn’t sure if she was looking at Mike or looking at the fire that was right in front of him. All I know is that she wasn’t here.

“Yeah, so what?”, she answered, still keeping her eyes at whatever she was looking at.

“What the hell is going on?!”Mike yelled, standing up while looking at every person.

“Calm down!”I yelled back. I didn’t like how he was talking to her. We all go through shit and lose people but he was attacking her for no reason.

“Seriously, this isn’t needed right now but Armando and y/n we do need answers.”, Marcus added, looking at Mike and then at y/n and I.

I turned to look at y/n, I didn’t know as much as they think I do. I wanted answers also and even personal questions to ask.

“Okay.”, she whispered looking up at Mike and then Marcus. “I say this one time and one time only with no disrespect added because I’ll be damned.”, she continued pointing at Mike and then at the log underneath him

  I watched as Mike sat down. I could tell she was sick of Mike shit because I was too. I watched as she moved her eyes to look off into the abyss within the woods, maybe trying to figure out what to say.

“My name is Y/N Smith. However, when I was undercover while working with the Cartel, I was known as Rose and was extremely close with everyone that did business within it. So I made sure that only the heads would know what I looked liked and that no one knew my real name. ”, she explained, looking at us. 

“You’re Rose…Rose Gonzalez? How did you keep your identity a secret for so long?”Mike asked, looking at her and then at me.

“Wait…you worked with my mom?”I asked, turning to look at her. At this point we were all searching for answers.  

“ I stayed hidden because I killed anyone who wasn't supposed to see me or would tell. So I guess you could say I have a lot of blood on my hands.”, she whispered, turning her hands around to look at her palms.

“I knew that you were undercover Mike because I had worked with you. We just had never met. Same with you, Armando.”, she answered, turning to look at me. I could see regret fill her eyes, what else was she holding back?

“The operation that Mike was working on, blew up in my face at the wrong time. So I had to actually become a boss in order for my identity not to be revealed because they were killing their own people to figure out who was undercover.”

“I remember that happening…someone was talking to me on the phone while I did it.”, I replied, reminiscing about it. My mind started playing back to that night, I was on the phone with a woman and she was calling all of the shots and was paying me heavy money for it.

“So, that was you that night?”I asked, keeping my attention on her. I could tell she was becoming uncomfortable with talking about her past, maybe this is why she’s been all over the place.

“This is starting to make sense but…how does this correlate with you and McGrath and Howard? How did you know him?"Mike interrogated, scratching the back of his head.

" I met your mom while she was in prison, a little before we helped her get out and with McGrath... He came up to me and introduced himself to me. At first, I was afraid, thinking it could be a set up with how deep I had gotten to my role but after a while of seeing him, I became drawn towards him. That deep harsh voice that he has, kind of like yours Armando besides the accent, pulled me in.”, she explained, grabbing the rocks that were by her feet.

“So it was one of those falling in love bullshit.”, I scoffed, rubbing the back of my neck but blushing at the fact she mentioned my accent. I watched as she snapped her head to look at me really fast. I couldn’t help but to feel jealous inside but the pieces are connecting between her and McGrath.

“It wasn’t bullshit at the time. I was hooked, although I was young, very young. And me being with him, made him look like a pervert. I was genuinely hooked.”

“I guess you can say she’s a"DILF ".”, Marcus laughed 

I wasn’t sure how to respond to his comment, I thought it was kind of disrespectful knowing what she’s been through. “So what happened for him to hate you.”, I asked, shifting my whole body towards her. I wanted to know every detail about their relationship, her past. I wanted her and I wanted to fill and complete her. Sexually and Spiritually.

“He proposed to me about a year and a half later. I was terrified because he never knew that I was undercover, and I didn’t want to get a random citizen involved. It was things within that nature that I had to think about…”

“Did you say yes?”Mike questioned moving away from Marcus to sit next to the log that was near y/n.

He was intrigued by her past, I could tell by the way he was leaning in towards her. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t too.

“I did, and I knew I was asking for a death sentence but I had no choice but to say yes.”, she replied, shaking her head. She didn't acknowledge anyone’s presence anymore, she was just talking and listening to the questions that were being asked.

“I was pregnant and I had told him, some may think he proposed to lock me down but I look at it as him genuinely loving me however, you never know with men…”

You’d know with me…

“Okay so this makes sense but still…with Howard death, and  McGrath hating you? You had to have done something.”Marcus interrogated standing up.

“I knew about you being an undercover Mike, I just never said anything because you would’ve been killed plus Howard told me so once your operation was a success with Armando’s mother being sent to prison, it became a death trap for everyone else who were still in hiding. Which is what had happened. I didn’t know that McGrath was a D.E.A Agent, I had no clue.”, she whispered.

At this point, I could tell that she was on the verge of tears. The jealousy that I once had in my body was now turning soft. I slightly moved my head to Marcus and Mike to see them looking at her with sympathy.

“I had called the heads and formed a meeting so that we could talk about Armando’s mom being sent to prison. At this point of time, I was passed being undercover, I was drawn in. I wanted her out so that’s when I called you, Armando, and formed a plan but while I was on the phone with you, the other Cartel members brought in McGrath, which left me so confused, which is why I had randomly hung up.”, she replied, getting up to pace back and forth.

“I thought…I thought maybe he followed me because from time to time I made it hard for him to see me ....so that he could be safe y’know.  I never knew that he was an undercover agent. He would talk to me about things that he would do and feed me fun facts that had honestly helped me with my operation, however it never got to me that he was being literal because he would always laugh. So when he and his team showed up, there was nothing that I could do. I couldn’t help because that would’ve gotten me killed so I sent them to one of the rooms for them to be dealt with.”, she cried, shaking her head back and forth.

I stood up, and grabbed her to embrace her with a hug. I wasn’t used to having sympathy for others but y/n was different and I didn’t care about the  stupid expression that was on Mike and Marcus faces. I just knew that she needed to be comforted and I was going to be the one to do that.

I lifted her chin so that she could look up at me. Her cheeks were wet from the tears that ran down it so I took off my orange prison shirt, exposing my entire upper body and wiped her face with it. I figured it would be the littlest things that counted.

“Are we…interrupting anything?”Marcus coughed, throwing his shoulders at Mike.

“Yeah…I’m wondering the same thing.”, Mike replied, looking at him.

I watched as Y/n grabbed my hand and stopped me from wiping her cheeks. Was she embarrassed that I was consoling her? 

“Thank you Armando but just stop. I don’t need sympathy, I just need you guys to listen, okay”, she sighed moving across the fireplace. I watched as she sat on the other side alone, so much for me trying to help.

“After I sent them into one of the rooms, I figured that they would be just beaten because I didn’t tell the others, who were allowed to be in the room with me, to kill them. But when I went to check to get information out of them, they were all dead except McGrath. Their heads were cut off and they kept McGrath alive to torture him.”, she continued, leaning her weight towards the back of the log.

“So that’s why he hates you, you chose yourself over love.”, I whispered, looking over at her. I saw as she looked over defeatedly. I wasn’t sure if that was a smart decision or a dumb one. She was young and alone, surrounded by Cartels, but that’s no excuse because  if that was me, I would’ve done something to save the person that I love. I guess we're two different people.

“He was so mad at me for my decision that it took me a while to get some information out of him, however, I eventually got it and allowed him to tell the Cartel about Mike’s operation and those who were involved so that they can let him go, which they did.”, she continued, shrugging her shoulders.

I could see that she was slowly starting to accept what had happened, which was good but I couldn’t help thinking about the decision that she made. Was it really worth it? I turned my attention to her stomach after realizing that she mentioned about her being pregnant. She must’ve been watching because she looked down also and touched her stomach.

“Yeah after he was free, and the Cartel started moving around. The word got out fast about how they were going to move and I knew that they were slowly growing suspicious about me so I went to my house off the coast to get my things to try to leave.”

“He was there wasn’t he.”, Marcus said looking at her.

“Yep, he was there and I didn’t know. I was on the phone with Howard to let him know where I was going and to tell my team to get me a new name ready with a fake background. He snuck up on me and shot me in the back twice.”, she replied standing up, while pulling her pants off her hips to reveal the two scars on her lower back. 

My heart sank, making me remember the promise that I told her earlier. I for sure was going to make sure that I keep it now.

“Yep, Howard heard it all and everything that McGrath was saying. McGrath took my phone and looked through all of my documents while i layed on the ground crying. I watched him leave at some point and I don’t know what happened after that, all I know is that I woke up in the hospital with heavy security and Howard. He was there the whole time for me while I mourned. Since then, I've been trying to figure out what to do, so that’s why Howard said what he said in the video.”

“And that being about McGrath?”Mike muttered, fidgeting his fingers. 

“Majority of it, yes. The rest is just personal, you know, starting a new peaceful life…getting married, having kids.”, she blushed looking at Marcus and then at Mike.

“She should be looking at me, I can give her that.”, I thought while watching her blush. Settling down has crossed my mind before, maybe I can do that with her. If she doesn’t continue to play hard to get. Decisions.

“Thanks for explaining everything to us, y/n. We appreciate that.”, Marcus smiled while nodding his head up and down.

“Yes…thank you and y/n, I’m sorry.”Mike apologized,  getting up and walking towards her. You watched as she got up and looked at him while he went up to her. Was she going to accept it? Or maybe make him get on his knees? Hell, I know I would for her.

“It’s okay, pull that shit again and you’re dead…”, she replied, looking at him as he threw his hand out for a handshake. I watched as he laughed and as she stared right into his eyes. She wasn’t kidding.

“I’m not joking, I will.”, she repeated this time, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

I could see Mike's face switch from laughing to serious within a second. I loved how serious of a person she is and the dominant personality follows after that. It made me want to be submissive, just for her and to make the thing between my legs cry.

I watched as she let go of Mike’s hand and started walking away.

“Where are you going?”I asked, standing up alarmingly. She said nothing, until she went and sat in front of a tree then leaned her head against it. I just watched, looking out into the thin air to be sure that no one was around her.

“What?”, she laughed, folding her arms while adjusting herself against the tree. She was tired and we were out in the woods with chilling temperatures so I knew it would be hard for her to get comfortable.

“Armando can we—”, before Mike could finish his sentence I got up and walked over to y/n. I couldn’t help it, I felt drawn towards her. The need to protect her and to make sure she was comfortable and safe. 

“What do you want Armando, I’m done talking.”, she sighed, removing her head from against the tree. I could tell that she was sleepy and that she was getting annoyed with the fact that I kept messing with her. Her eyebrows began to droop inward and she was looking up at me with her low eyes while her head was leaned all the way back. Perfect position but the wrong time.

“Don’t act like you’re annoyed with me, baby.”, I flirted squatting down to her level to be eye to eye with her. I watched as she covered her mouth while she smiled and then quickly frowned.

“No seriously, what is it?”

“Here, put this on.”, I demanded, handing her my shirt.

“What about you?”, she asked, pointing to my exposed body. Honestly, I was a little cold but I'd rather her wear it than me.

“I’m going to sleep next to the fire but first I'm going to talk to Mike unless you want me to keep you warm.”, I replied putting my shirt over her head, allowing her to put her arms through the sleeves.

“Goodnight, Armando…”, she smirked, leaning up to kiss me on my forehead and then laying back against the tree. The way she says my name, made me shy and bubbly on the inside. 

“Get a fucking room!”Mike yelled, antagonizing y/n and I while Marcus chuckled.

“Shut the hell up Mike!!!”, y/n and I yelled in unison which led to us laughing.

It felt good to hear laughter coming out of everyone’s mouths, especially knowing that in the next couple of hours. We will have to find help and eventually  kill McGrath. I playfully slapped y/n on her thigh and walked away. Mike called my name earlier so I knew that he was going to be up a little longer talking. I had been dreading this conversation with him, it’s my first time actually communicating and being around him.

I sat on the opposite side of the lit fire so I could watch y/n sleep. For the rest of the night, Mike, Marcus and I talked about Mike’s and I’s relationship and how we were going to help Howard and y/n. Truth be told, Howard wasn’t my priority anymore. Y/n was. I want her to live a life that she deserves, and I am going to make sure that she does, whether me or McGrath dies in the process.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 6

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 6.2k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, loss of virginity, PIV sex, fingering, brief pussy licking, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

Despite what Beomgyu said, he and Haeun seem to have become an item, just as you and Yeonjun are now. They’re always together, as you are with Yeonjun, and it’s like you and Beomgyu don’t even know each other anymore. He’s always hanging out with her and you’re always hanging out with Yeonjun. You hardly see Beomgyu anymore, which makes it weird the way he’s sitting on your bed, watching you get ready just like old times. 

You remember how you and he used to play a game sometimes as you got ready where you’d pick out various outfits and try them out for Beomgyu, giving him a mini-fashion show that he would narrate as if it was a football game, going on about how groundbreaking the designs are and how pretty the model (you) looks. 

He was your main supporter in going into fashion as a major. You don’t think you would’ve had the courage to do it without him. He always believed in you and stood by you even when your parents were upset at you for choosing a career with such an uncertain future. He told you that if one of you succeeds, you’ll just pull the other up too. If his music career takes off, he’ll contract you to be the creative director for the band and if your fashion career takes off, you’ll have to hire him as your model. And if you both fail…well you’ll be strippers together.

You laugh as you remember your promise and turn back towards Beomgyu, who was sitting on your bed watching you. “Hey, remember our backup plan? That we’ll make a two-man stripper show to repay our student debt?” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. Instead he just hums, focusing on your dress. 

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, insecure. You’re not used to wearing something this extravagant but Yeonjun is taking you to a photography exhibition tonight and he told you it’s gonna be really fancy. 

You’re not sure if being stressed out and sweating as you try not to get judged by all those more talented and influential people is the best idea for a date but Yeonjun insisted that if you wanted to get into fashion, you have to start mingling. 

You didn’t even have a proper dress. You had to wear something you made for a fallen goddess shoot you had in mind, but by the look Beomgyu is giving you, it’s probably trash. 

"Does it matter?" He asks and you frown. "What do you mean?"

"It means that with what you're wearing, I don't even know why you’re bothering going on a date when you can just invite him over and let him fuck you now, skip the formalities." 

"You're unbelievable." You spit out, trying to hide the dread filling your chest and making you struggle to breathe. Yes, the dress was a bit more revealing than you’re used to, but it’s an art event, people wear this stuff there all the time.  

“Where did you even get this dress?” He asks in distaste and you hold your head up high. “I made it.” 

That makes him back down, his eyes visibly softening as regret shows on his face. “Oh… It’s pretty.” 

You snort in disbelief. "Why are you even here, Beomgyu?"

He shrugs. "Just watching this shitshow go down."

“Right.” You mutter bitterly, "I guess it was too much to expect you to act like a friend." 

"I am your friend.” He says as if declaring it is enough to make it true. “I'm your best friend." 

"I wouldn't be so sure."

He jumps off the bed when he hears that, quickly getting in front of you. "What does that mean?” 

"Nothing. I'm going to be late." You try to get past him but he won’t let you. "No. What do you mean by that? You said I'd never lose you."

"Yeah, that was before you transformed into this asshole who accuses me of trying to sabotage his career and calling me a slut for daring to date."

He moves back, stunned at your words, and you almost laugh. Is he really surprised? "I'm just… working through some stuff."

"Stuff? That's your excuse?" You ask incredulously and he looks away. Is “stuff” worth what he’s done to your friendship?

"It's just hard for me to see you with him." He finally admits and you sigh. Not this again. "Beomgyu, I know you’re worried about your band, but Yeonjun and I are adults, even if we break up, that doesn't mean–"

"It's not about that." He shakes his head, cutting you off. 

"Then what is it?" You ask, frustrated. Frankly, you’re at your rope’s end with his weird behavior. 

"You're too good for him."

"What?” You reel back. Now, this is new. “Is it because he sleeps around? Because we’ve talked about it and he insisted that just because he's had many casual relationships before doesn't mean he's gonna cheat on me. We've been together for a while now and he has been nothing but wonderful to me."

He really has. You don't know what's wrong with you. Why can't you love him the way you love your asshole best friend? Maybe it will come with time? You've known Beomgyu for years and your love for him didn't develop overnight. Maybe you just need to give your relationship with Yeonjun more time. 

You hope it doesn't take years to get over Beomgyu and fall in love with Yeonjun though. 

"It's not that. It's not him. You're too good for everyone." 

"Beomgyu…" You walk towards him and hold his hands. "I know you're not used to me going out with guys because, well, I've kind of lead a fairly loser-ish life--you know, you've been there– and maybe me and Yeonjun won't end up working out and maybe I'll end up hurt but I can't just be virginal forever. I have to try to find someone for me."

"But you have someone." He pulls you towards him, resting his forehead against yours as he plays with your hands. "Me." 

That hurt more than any mean thing he has ever said to you and he doesn't even mean to hurt you. He has been terrible to you all this time because he thinks you deserve more? Because he wants things to stay the way they are? That is fucking absurd and so infuriating. Why couldn't he have just told you that instead of acting like an ass? Not wanting to lose you doesn’t mean he gets to order you around. Being worried about you doesn't give him the right to treat you like a stupid slut. 

"Don't be stupid." You say harshly, making him flinch. You try again, softer this time, not letting the anger and pain through as much. "I know I have you but I need more."

"More what? Why can't things just stay the way they are? We have fun together, right? I make you laugh. I'm there for you when you're down. We've even messed around. What can he give you that I can't?" 

Love. You need love and even though Beomgyu loves you very much, it's not in the way you need.

"Beomgyu, you’re being very childish about this. We're not twelve anymore. I know you’re scared that we'll drift apart if I find someone but the only reason we’ve been drifting apart is because of your behavior. I can't keep coddling you. You may not like it because it’s only been you and I until now, but it's time for me to find an actual boyfriend instead of this–this joke I have with you." 

Maybe you’re being too harsh on him but you’re honestly too hurt to sugarcoat it anymore. And you also need to hear it yourself. What you have with Beomgyu isn't real and you need to face the fact that it will never be. "I need someone to actually love and to hold and to be my other half. Us messing around together is just that, messing around, nothing more. I need something real. You do too. I mean you're finally with the woman you've been chasing after for years. Do you really wanna throw that away just because you're scared?"

Still, seeing the way he becomes quiet after your outburst, looking away from you and not responding… maybe you could’ve been nicer about it. 

“Beomgyu…” You sigh, reaching out to turn his face towards you but he pushes your hand away, refusing to meet your gaze. 

"Go. You’re late for your date." He grits out and you look at the time. Crap. You are! 

You look at him again, seeing the tension in his jaw and shoulders, something that resembles pain etched on his features. Should you stay and work this out for him or go on your date? If you stay, you’d be choosing him yet again. If you stay then you’ll just teach him that all he needs to do is act out and you’ll cave and do what he wants. No, you need to make some changes. That’s what you promised Yeonjun when you and him decided to become exclusive. Beomgyu can’t come first anymore. 

"I have to go. Let’s talk about this later." You step back, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as you grab your bag and head for the door. 

____________________

When Yeonjun said the place was fancy, he wasn’t kidding. You’re blown away right now, surrounded by people you’ve only known about through magazine spreads and hours of admiration through the internet. You can’t believe you’re here in the same room with such talented artists and creators. 

You feast your eyes on the multiple displays from different photographers and artists, analyzing their technique, their vision, and their subject, and you’re just in awe. This is exactly where you should be, mingling with the others in your field, making connections, building a network… except you haven’t really gotten the hang of socializing yet. You’re too nervous to talk to anyone. You just stand silently next to Yeonjun as he charms his way through the crowd, joking there, throwing a compliment here or purring a small flirty line that has the other party blushing. 

He can turn it on for anyone. He’s so good you can’t help wondering where his charming nature ends and his actual affection for you begins. How do you know he’s not just charming you the same way he charms everyone else? 

“Do you like it?” Yeonjun asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. You look around to see that everyone around you has left and you’re standing alone with him. “Huh?” 

“You’ve been staring at this particular shot for a long time. Do you like it?” He laughs and you shake your head. “Not really.”

“Really? Why not? It’s well shot, the composition is good, the set design is top-notch and the clothes really complement the atmosphere.” 

“That’s all true.” You agree, and he laughs–his sweet tinkering laugh that makes you smile.  “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like the model. It’s obvious the photographer was going for a femme fatale look but she doesn’t deliver. She’s supposed to have the face of an angel but the aura of the devil. She has to convey the monster within but she’s so afraid of not looking pretty, it just comes across as if she’s putting on an act rather than losing herself in the madness of it.”

“You really don’t like her, huh?” He laughs, and you furrow your eyebrows. “Well, it’s not really her fault so much as it’s the fault of the photographer. They should be directing the model on how to act and correcting them when they’re doing something wrong. This model is obviously gorgeous and she has the potential in her to look fierce, but with a weak direction like this, all you get is what basically amounts to a child dressing in her mother’s clothes.” 

You hear someone huff behind you and turn around to see a very disgruntled man. “And to whom do I owe this very shrewd commentary on my work?” 

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. 

“I–I am… I’m nobody.” You squeak, wishing the monster from the next picture over would jump out of the frame and swallow you whole right now. 

“That’s right, you are nobody.” The man haughtily agrees. 

“Hey, man, she’s just giving her opinion.” Yeonjun attempts to interject but the man pays him no mind. “I am an award winning photographer. I don’t take the juvenile half-baked opinions of nobodies. Come back when you’ve actually achieved something that could hold a candle to what I’ve done over my career. Oh no wait, you’ll never amount to anything if these are the opinions your artistically challenged brain comes up with.” 

“Hey–Yeonjun protests, a scene starting to form around you, but you quickly cut it short–the humiliation already too much for you to handle. 

“I’m sorry.” You tear up, quickly turning and running away. 

Through your tears, you can see the shocked and confused looks of the other patrons so you quickly keep your gaze to the ground until you’re out of the gallery and near Yeonjun’s car in the quiet parking lot where no one can see you cry. 

No one except Yeonjun who followed closely after you. “Wait up! Baby–Are you okay?” 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You babble, tears streaming down your face. “You shouldn’t have taken me to such a nice place. I didn’t deserve it.”

Why the hell did you even think you would ever make it in such a business. The best you’d be able to achieve is etsy store designs and wedding photographs. You’ve just messed up your first chance at making connections AND you fucked up your date with Yeonjun. You’re such a screw up. 

“Woah, calm down. You didn’t do any of those things.” He holds you in his arms and you bury your face in his shirt, seeking comfort and a place to hide from him. “Don’t lie. I ruined everything.” 

Maybe now he’ll even realize that you’re not as cool as he thought you were. That you’re not actually this artistic person he probably imagined you as and lose interest. He’d know you’re a fraud and dump you. Then you’d be left with no Beomgyu and no boyfriend. Just your loser self. 

“You didn’t. But you crying might ruin my shirt.” 

You gasp, pulling away and trying to step back but he holds you by the arms, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m kidding. You can soak me through with tears and snot all you want.” 

“You’re an asshole.” You smack his chest, pouting. 

“Maybe. But I got you to stop crying.” He says and you frown. He actually did. While you might’ve preferred a more sweet approach to getting you to stop crying, this still worked. 

You sigh, little cries bubbling up in your chest still. “I still am sorry. You wanted to do something nice for me and I ruined it with my big mouth.” 

“No, you didn’t.” He retorts, wiping away the few stray tears still falling. “I loved hearing everything you had to say. I thought you made some really good points. He was just threatened that you could've done a way better job than he did.”

“You really think so?” You peer up at him, hopeful that he’s not just saying that to make you feel better. 

“Yes, but don’t start crying again.” He laughs, kissing the pout you answer him with. “In fact, I’m free if you ever want to try it out. And I want you to know that I take very good direction.”

There goes the flirting again. The one that makes you wonder if he’s sincere or it’s just part of his charm.  

"Yeah, we could do that." You say nervously, letting him prop your chin up to press a proper kiss onto your lips. 

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asks but you shake your head. “Not hungry. Too depressed.” 

“Aw, baby, do you wanna head back home with me? I can make you forget all about that asshole.” He brushes your hair out of your face, kissing you again, and you know what he’s really asking. 

You’ve already gone on a few dates with him. It’s not too soon for this. This is what people who like each other do after going on multiple dates. And if you want to get over Beomgyu, you’re going to have to completely give yourself to Yeonjun. You can’t be holding anything back in the hopes that Beomyu might want it someday. 

You put on a brave smile for Yeonjun. “Yes. Let’s head home.” 

____________________________

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous.” Yeonjun whispers to you, feeling you tense up as he tries to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders. “You’re beautiful."

Does he really think that? You can’t be that beautiful compared to the women he’s been with. 

"Did I tell you how much I love this dress?" He asks, toying with the neckline, and you shake your head. "I love it. Makes you look like a movie star. So beautiful and sexy. Almost makes me not want to take it off."

His lips brush softly over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake before he pulls back to look you in the eye. "But I wanna see all of you. Will you let me see you, doll?"

You nod, holding your breath as he pulls the dress down your chest, kissing every inch of skin on the way until your breasts are bare and his plush lips are wrapped around your nipple. 

“Yeonjun…” You whine, grabbing onto his hair as he kisses and kneads your breasts, slowly but surely turning you on. 

“Does it feel good, doll?” Yeonjun smirks, one of his hands going between your legs to rub your pussy. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“I got you, baby.” His mouth moves down your body as he pulls your leg apart. 

“Missed this.” He murmurs, reaching your pussy and giving it a wide lick as his finger prods at your opening and pushes through. “Oh, that went in easy.” 

“I… I finger myself.” You admit bashfully, covering your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason but Yeonjun just laughs and leans up to remove your hands and kiss you. “That’s okay, makes my job easier.” 

You give him a confused look but quickly realize what he means when he presses another finger into you, moving both of them in and out to loosen your pussy. 

“See? All good. I’ll have you fucked open for me in no time.” He drawls, staring you down confidently as he works another finger into you. You tense up on that last one so he uses his thumb to rub your clit to get you to relax a bit. “There you go. Open up for me, doll. Let yourself feel good.” 

You’re trying to, you really are. You’re trying to focus on the moment, the burning feeling moving up your body from your pussy that just needs to be quenched. 

He’s doing it so well, hitting all the right spots, completely confident and self-assured. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No clumsiness. No unchecked lust. No uncontainable eagerness. Just steady, purposeful movements that touch you places you didn’t even know you were sensitive. 

“Feels good.” You slur, pressing your pussy further into his hand, grinding against his palm to seek more of that mind-numbing stimulation. “More.” 

“I know, baby. But let me take it slow for you.” 

You shake your head. You don’t want it slow. You want him to lose himself in you. “No. Want you now.” 

“Doll–”

“Fuck me, Yeonjun. Make me yours.” Please. Please make me yours. Make me stop thinking about him. 

Are you doing this for all the wrong reasons? Maybe, but how else are you supposed to get over Beomgyu? Don't they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another one? Well, you'll just have to test that theory. 

Yeonjun relents, shushing your needy mewls with kisses as he takes his hand away. “Hush, doll. I’ll fill you up again in a second.” He undoes his pants and pushes them off along with his underwear before grabbing you by the thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. 

“You ready, baby?” He asks and you just stare at his cock. 

Has Beomgyu already fucked her? He must have. He’s so needy to get his dick wet that he’d never miss up the chance. 

You look up at Yeonjun. “Do it. Fuck me.” 

Ok, so maybe you fingering yourself hadn’t fully prepared you for this. Maybe you should’ve taken a page out of Beomgyu’s book and gotten yourself a sex toy–a dildo to practice with before the real thing. 

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes it slow despite your earlier demands, thrusting into you shallowly, letting you get used to his length bit by bit. 

“Relax for me, doll.” He purrs gently, kissing all over your face as his hands massage your thighs, doing his best to get you to loosen up. 

“Yes, Junnie.” You whimper, head falling back as you will your body to relax. You hear a soft chuckle coming from him. “Junnie? That’s cute.” 

You blush as you realize what you’d said. You couldn’t help it. You love giving cute nicknames to your friends. And you guess your boyfriend too. 

Yeah, because Yeonjun is your boyfriend now and boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. You know Yeonjun must have done it with all his previous girlfriends. It would’ve been weird if you didn’t. 

Not that Yeonjun pressured you to do it or anything. But you know he wanted it. You wanted it too. You just couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. Which is why it’s good that you’re finally doing this–smothering that last candle you were holding out for him. 

“You’re tensing again, doll.” Yeonjun tells you, kissing your neck. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It feels like heaven when you squeeze down on my cock like that, but I want this to feel good for you too.” 

Yes, it’s the right thing to do this… right? 

“Okay…” You breathe, trying to relax and focus on the moment, letting your muscles unclench as Yeonjun presses his cock in and out of you. 

Once you’re sufficiently relaxed, you start to actually feel good again, his cock feeling much better than your fingers ever did. It reaches places inside you that you never could by yourself. It’s so thick and long, dragging along your walls and stimulating those sensitive spots inside you that make your toes curl. 

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He drawls, taking note of the moans you were now letting out but he still takes it slow. 

You breath hitches, his words too closely resembling what Beomgyu had said to you before, and for a split second you see Beomgyu over you instead of Yeonjun, his long hair tickling your face and his intense gaze burning you up. 

“Yeonjun–” You gasp, digging your fingers into his arms. “Harder, please.” 

Maybe if he fucks you harder, it’ll push Beomgyu out of your brain. Maybe if he fucks you harder, you could mistake his casual affection for the raw passion you crave. 

“Are you sure, doll?” He asks, concerned. 

“Yes, please, Yeonjun. Fuck me hard.” You insist, hoping your eyes convey how much you need it. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” He grabs your thighs, pressing them against the sides of your body and getting on top of you, driving his dick so deep inside you it makes you throw your head back in a long, choked out moan. 

But he doesn’t let up, fucking into you again and again, bullying his cock into your virgin pussy at a brutal pace until you have no more breath to scream, and then he fucks you more. 

“Baby, you with me?” Yeonjun pants, not letting up. 

“Isss good….” You mumble, brain short-circuiting, caught by the fire spreading from your pussy to set your body alight. “S-so good.” 

You vaguely hear him laugh through his own grunts, “Good girl, just lay back and let me make you feel good.” 

You nod, tears brimming at your eyelashes at the overwhelming feeling. But you love it, the burning pleasure making its way through your body and making you forget about anyone else but Yeonjun. 

“Junnie… soooo good…. Too g-good...” You cry, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it hammers in and out of you, your legs trying to slam together to take a break from the excessive pleasure, but they can’t. Not when Yeonjun’s hold on you is so bruising, his hips keeping at that brutal pace that makes you unable to even string along a full sentence.

“You asked for it, doll. Now be good and take it.” He grunts, bending down to pluck one of your nipples into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive nub. 

“No–no—Junnie!” You scream, unable to take it anymore, your pussy clamping down on his cock as your whole body shudders with a blinding orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck–baby, baby, I’m cumming.” Yeonjun groans, quickly taking his cock out as he cums on your belly, and replacing it with his fingers when you start crying at the emptiness. 

“I got you, doll. I got you.” He murmurs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he milks his cock of the last drops of his orgasm–letting you both down gently. 

When you start squirming at the overstimulation–the fires retreating from your brain–he pulls his fingers out and bends down to kiss you. “It’s okay, baby. You did really well.” 

You look up at him, the insecurity creeping back in again now that the mind-numbing pleasure is gone. “Did you like it? Did you like m-me?” 

Were you good? Did you live up to his past lovers? Were you supposed to do something more? Be more proactive? Did he enjoy his time?

He chuckles. “Yes. You were great, baby. You felt so good.” He reassures you simply, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

“Okay.” His answer doesn't really give you the reassurance you needed. You don’t even know what you need him to do or say, but you know he’s not giving it to you. And he notices. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks, giving you a skeptical look and you nod. “Yeah.” 

He doesn’t appear to be convinced by your answer. “Are you sure? Wanna take a shower?” 

You shake your head, getting off the bed and beginning to dress yourself up again. “No, that’s okay. I can take a shower at home.”

“Home? You’re not staying over?” He gives you a look of confusion which you reciprocate. “Oh. I don’t know. Do you want me to?” 

You blink at him, genuinely unsure. You didn’t want to presume anything. You don’t have experience doing this. You don't know if you’re supposed to stay or if it’s too soon. 

“Of course. I’m not just gonna make you go home after we fucked.” He chuckles, pulling you back down to the bed. “You have to stay the night.” 

“I don’t know…” You hesitate.  If you stay, Beomgyu will probably know what you've done. He'll know that you and Yeonjun had sex. But if you leave you'd be choosing Beomgyu again. You need to let go of him. 

“Okay.” 

___________________

You end up having a nice time with Yeonjun once you get over your anxiety and trepidation of losing your virginity to someone other than Beomgyu. It's silly but you suppose on some level you thought you'd have your first time with him. 

And it's not just that. For a second you let the insecurity get to you and you wondered if Yeonjun would act differently now that you had sex. That he'd show his true face and break your heart, but he doesn’t. He is as sweet as ever, giving you some of his clothes and staying up in bed with you, having those precious pillow talks that are so important early in a relationship. 

He is easy to talk to, and when he does that cute thing where he scrunches his nose up and pokes his tongue out as he's teasing you, it makes your heart flutter. 

You find out that singing isn’t his only passion--that dancing is his first love. He even gets up out of the cozy comfort of the bed to show you a few dance moves when you whine and insist he shows you. You watch him with a big smile on your face as he executes them so well even in his bedroom, his movements so fluid yet precise, it’s mesmerizing. And when he’s done he smiles that sweet smile of his and lunges back into bed with you and you take him into your arms as if he could actually belong there. 

It was so unlike how he usually is on stage and in front of others that it tugs in your heartstrings a bit, making you feel special for being allowed to witness this. 

You fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms, forgetting about that aching feeling of emptiness in the center of your chest for a few blissful hours. 

And in the morning you even make breakfast together. Or more like he makes you breakfast while you make coffee. 

“Oh, man. I haven’t had a proper breakfast in sooo long.” You moan, digging into the omelet and sausages he made you. 

“You don’t cook?” He asks, smiling as he watches you eat. 

“Nope. Me and Beomgyu are hopeless. We’ve almost burned the kitchen too many times that now we don’t even bother.” 

“Then what do you guys eat?” 

“Frozen goods and slimy take-out. We’re building a formidable gut microbiome. We’re actually part of the country’s biological weapons program.” 

Yeonjun laughs. “Well, sorry for ruining your trajectory by feeding you actual food.” 

“Ah, well, Beomgyu can carry the torch by himself.” You shrug, mouth full of food. 

“You guys are really close, huh?” He asks, and the mood grows a bit gloomy. You chew slowly, thinking your words through before answering. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”

“He’s more than that though, isn’t he?” He pushes and you hesitate. 

Once again, you know exactly what he's asking, and you’re faced with a decision to make between an uncertain future with Yeonjun, nurturing a candlelight that is so shaky it might get snuffed out at any moment, or live on hopes and dreams with Beomgyu, praying for the sun to break out from behind the clouds after years of waiting for it to no avail. 

“No.” You finally say, looking up at him, trying to be decisive, hoping it will come naturally with time. “No, he’s not. Not anymore. We’ve agreed to be exclusive, you and I, and I’m serious about it.” 

Yeonjun's smile is slow, cautious. “Good to hear.”

Do either of you actually believe it? Do you really think you can move on from Beomgyu? You don’t know but you know that you have to try and you know that you'd like to try with Yeonjun. 

________________________________

Still, heading home you feel uneasy. Like you'd done something wrong you’re going to get punished for, and so to ease the guilt and tension, you grab something on the way with you–just some donuts and coffee, a small token of peace, knowing Beomgyu would be hungry and that the best way to get into his good graces is to offer him junk food. It's not like he was going to make himself breakfast or anything anyway. 

When you step into the apartment, you find him sitting on the couch just as you had expected. 

“Wanna eat? I got you your favorite donuts.” You wave the food next to your head in lieu of a greeting.

He stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything. Shit, does he know? Can he see it on you? Probably, since you’re still wearing Yeonjun’s clothes. 

But he just says, “Sure.” and makes room for you on the couch. 

You accept it gladly, watching as he takes the donuts out and offers you some. “No, thanks, I already ate.” 

Once again, he pauses, studying you for a second before looking away and taking a bite of his donut.  

“Ugh, I was starving. This is the real stuff.” He groans and you grin. "Yeah. This is food as God intended it, processed and fried until it barely resembles food." You hum in agreement, making him giggle.

For a second you think you're off the hook. For a second you think things can just be normal like he wanted. But then he asks you something that stops you cold.  

"How was the date?"

You study his expression, trying to decipher a hidden agenda in the question. Is this a trick? Is he asking just so he can say something mean about it? Is he going to act vindictive once you tell him how it went?

But he looks genuinely curious to your scrutinizing eyes, and so you decide to just tell him the truth. "Ugh, awful. You know how completely unaware I am of my surroundings? Well, I started criticizing this one photo and the photographer was standing right behind me."

Beomgyu gasps, a piece of food flying out of his mouth at you. "No! What did he say?" 

You brush it off in disgust. "He said I was a nobody." 

Beomgyu's face twists up in anger as he puts the food down. "What the fuck? He said that?"

"Well, I said it and he just confirmed it." You explain sheepishly, still feeling the sting of the humiliation even now. "He said he has all these awards and I have nothing and never will and he won't listen to someone like me." 

"He's a fucking idiot.” Beomgyu rages, immediately jumps to your defense, “What, he thinks just because he has awards that he's the only one who can have an opinion? You know most of these awards are just rich people smelling their own farts, right? Real talent like yours cannot be measured."

Beomgyu is as fiercely defensive of you as he has always been and it brings a small smile to your face. However, the wound that the encounter opened up is still raw and just that isn’t enough to make you feel better. 

"Well, I wish it would be measured a little bit. You know we've both been doing this for years but while your band is getting bigger and bigger–and I'm so happy for you–I seem to be getting nowhere." You tell him glumly. You haven’t gotten any recognition for your work even though you work your ass off, dreaming up concepts, executing them to the best of your ability, and trying to get someone to notice. 

"Hey, hey, you will. I am certain of it. No one this talented can go unseen for long. They will notice you one day and they will be blown away." He scoots closer to you, holding your face in his warm hands and caressing your cheeks lovingly. "And hey, if all else fails, you always have that backup plan of being our main stylist and photographer. Me and Yeonjun will make sure of it. And not as a sympathy job either but because we truly believe in you."

"You would work with Yeonjun again for me?" You ask, touched. Beomgyu has been very stand-offish with Yeonjun ever since you started dating him. He only interacts with him the bare minimum to still allow the band to function. It’s not ideal but at least they’re not fighting anymore. 

"I would do anything for you." He smiles at you, the smile not quite reaching his sad eyes. 

Has his eyes always looked like this? So melancholic? Still, you feel comfort looking into them. You feel love and familiarity. You feel home. 

You do your best not to tear up, knowing if you let that dam crumble you'll end up saying things you'll regret. So you hold it together, despite how much you ache to throw yourself in his arms. You missed this. You missed him. You miss what you wish you could be. 

But then he takes his hand away and asks quietly, “Did you spend the night with him?”

“Yes.” You admit in a small voice, heart hammering against your chest.

“Got it.” He says simply, and it’s somehow worse than him getting angry. There is a sense of loss there that you can’t explain but it aches, deep and inaccessible. 

“Thanks for the food.” He says, getting up and throwing the rest of it in the trash. 

"Wait. Where are you going?” You ask when you see him heading for the door. 

“Out.” He says simply, seeming to be in a hurry to leave but you’re not ready to let him go yet. “Can't you stay for a bit?" 

"I'm sorry. I've got something to get to. But I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s out of the door. 

“Okay.” You mumble quietly to yourself, letting the tears fall freely, having no reason to hide them anymore. 

_____________________________

A/N: AHHHH two more chapter left. the end is nigh and only one boy can win. as always feedback gives me the motivation to write and upload faster. also just to let you know i will be giving patreon a try and an alternative ending to this fic will be published with the losing boy there.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming. which boy do you want oc to end up with (voting has no bearing on the final results though i guess now it doesn't matter because we'll have an alternative ending anyway)

Taglist: @blxxsss @sanasour @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

[erxxi3]

— Easy, Thats My Girl.

Pairings: Ellie Williams x Fem! Reader

Summary: Riding Ellie’s thigh and then kind of getting your pussy molded only by her strap. 😏

Cw. Thigh riding, strap-on and usage as a toy when it isn’t attached to someone, (pet names: sweet girl, baby, & love), some praise, and fluff at the end. NOT PROOF READ AND PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

Character Count: 4.9k

You are sitting on ellie’s thigh, she is kissing your jawline and neck, one hand in the hair at the back of your head, while the other rests on your waist, holding you up as she kisses you slowly with intent. “Mmm, Ellie... I love you so much,” you whispers.

The hand on the side of her face gently traces circles on her cheek. “I love you too.” She kisses you more forcefully, passionately, then pulls back just enough to look into your eyes and say, “Are you ready for this?” she asked you as she slowly held your hips pushing you down more onto the skin of her thigh You nodded eagerly. “Alright then…” she responded guiding your hips slowly grinding you against her thigh. “Fuck,” you moaned.

Ellie’s hands started moving up and down your sides, making you moan loudly as she massaged you. “God— Ellie...” You could feel her knee against your clothed cunt, pressing into it and making you squirm in pleasure, “Oh my God. Ellie, please…” you begged, “Please, I don’t want it to stop…” Ellie smirked seductively “You sure?” she asked.

You nodded vigorously as you were still pressed against her leg “Good,” she said ,“cause I have a feeling we won’t be stopping for a very long time now.” You couldn’t reply because you were already moaning louder as Ellie bounced her thigh as she rutted your hips against her thigh.

“God, baby— Ellie, please—” she heard your plea. “I can feel that you’re about to cum, sweetheart,” she whispered. She adjusted you on her lap back facing her pushing your thighs apart wider, sliding your panties to the side and exposing the folds of your pussy. “Look, you already wet yourself for me, I might as well use you for some fun, right?” Ellie was smirking wickedly again. Your breath hitched as she leaned forward and kissed you hungrily. “Do you trust me, sweet girl?” she murmured between kisses.

You nodded enthusiastically again, as she inserted a clear silicone strap-on inside you (not even attached to her) , your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Ellie looked into your eyes and whispered, “I know you need it, baby, but not yet. You can come if you let go,” she cooed softly. “Just give me a little time.” You closed your eyes trying to get control of your orgasm. “Come on Ellie, please, please, do it. I want to come…” you begged. “Then come for me, sweet girl, or you will regret it.”

Ellie was rubbing slow circular motions inside you. “Fuck, yes— Oh— Yes—“ You felt tears running down your cheeks as Ellie moved faster inside you, then she stoped her movements. Her lips brushing yours tenderly before she nibbled them, all she wanted was to hear you beg. “Don’t worry, Ellie… Just a little more.. Please..” Your voice was hoarse with passion.

Ellie took advantage of you in this desperate state pinning your arms behind your back, “Hold still, baby.” You struggled to turn around as Ellie continued to move in and out of you at a quick pace. “I know you like this, baby, hold still, I promise you’ll like it…” Ellie assured you, “Just relax and enjoy yourself, sweetheart. Let me show you how good it feels.” You relaxed against her as she began to put on the strap-on ramming her hips into your cunt without hesitation.

“Yes, YES~! I’m cumming…” You cried out silently. Ellie stopped thrusting her hips and pulled out, watching you come undone around her leaving a ring of cum on the strap and a pool on your panties, a satisfied smirk appearing on her face just seeing such the mess you made.

She removed the strap from inside of your thighs as you were gasping for air, panting heavily, her hair mussed by your fingers, her skin flushed. “Easy, there we go thats my girl. see how easy that was? Such a good job being molded by the strap only for me…” She praised you as she kissed you tenderly on the lips, “How are you feeling?” you smiled weakly, “Much better…” she chuckled.

“Let’s finish up here so I can take you to bed.” With those words Ellie slipped an arm under your legs to lift you up in her arms. You wrap your arms around her neck, resting your head on her shoulder. She carries you into their bedroom and lays you down on their bed. Then she removes the rest of her clothes and climbs in next to you. “Goodnight, Ellie.” You tell her sweetly snuggling into her chest. Ellie smiles at you, stroking her fingers through your hair lovingly. “Goodnight, love…” She kissed your forehead lovingly.

You close your eyes and drift off to sleep as she watches over you, waiting patiently until she knows you are asleep and safe. You wake to sunlight streaming through your curtains illuminating Ellie sleeping peacefully next to you. She is beautiful. It’s hard not to stare at her beautiful features as she sleeps soundly next to you.

A/N: Loved writing this brain rot idea I had. If you have any fic requests/ideas for me please look at my rules before you request anything to me, or you just come chat w me I don’t mind and I love to talk w people! ^^

Tagging: @coeurify, @elli3luvs, @ell1ovr, @elliesflower, @lovebombsstuff, @bugrry, @kurosaaki, @uhlunaro, @jea1ousel, @shesluxurious, @soleilmoons, @luxiddream, @luv-cherry, @hazelnutsforellie and much more others that are my fav ellie writers!

[welldonebeca]

Glitter and Goo (I)

Summary: When you have to go on a mission to a different planet together, Bucky is hit by a mating ritual flower, and some feelings you two have been hiding come up. AKA: It’s a sex pollen fic with a side of breeding kink. WC: 1k words Warnings: Tension. Romantic tension.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

You watched the door of the ship nervously as Bucky ran up, keeping your distance as he practically barked at you in the COM system to do.

"Are you sure you're alright?" you insisted as he walked past you, sniffing, a little irritated on the nose.

What was that smell?

"I'm fine," he grunted. "I just need to clean up."

You hesitated a bit. The two of you were alone in that mission, to find some special element on a different planet.

"Did you get it?" you asked him, crossing your arms.

Bucky walked into the isolated decontamination shower.

"I did," he called from inside. "It's in my pocket."

You walked near the door, trying not to look inside.

"Get me a ziplock bag," he commanded.

"Are you sure you are alright?" you insisted. "Bucky, if it sprayed on you-"

He didn't even let you finish.

"I'll be fine," he snapped. "Just get me the ziplock bag!"

You stood stiffly, surprised by the harsh words.

Now, that wasn't like Bucky.

He sighed on the other side.

"Sorry," he spoke quickly. "I'm just... I want to wash this off of me."

You walked to the side, taking some of the ziplock bags you had.

"What happened?" you asked him, showing the empty ziplock to him.

The door opened slightly, and he pulled it from your hand quickly, closing the door again.

"Fucking flower exploded in front of me when I was kneeling," Bucky explained. "There's powder and goo everywhere. But I'm alright, really. Just... let me shower."

You pressed your lips together, but kept quiet, not wanting to fight with him and have a long, awkward trip back home. It was just the two of you for two fucking days.

"Do you want me to get you a change of clothes?" you offered.

This wasn't your shared bathroom, it was a fucking decontamination shower.

Bucky sighed.

"Yeah," he decided. "Please."

You did, placing it down in the exit and putting your protection equipment before taking his clothes and the element.

His jacket was covered in some pink shimmery dust, as he had just gotten in the way of a glitter bomb.

You took some of it too, putting it in your database, along with some of the goo, though most of it seemed to have dried already. The best-case scenario was that nothing would happen, but it was best to be safe.

"Friday?" you called. "Can you send a copy of these to HQ too? Maybe someone knows what they are."

"Yes, ma'am," the system answered back.

By the time you were done and back, Bucky had left the decontamination shower, and looked very grumpy.

"Hey," you stopped in front of him, still a little hesitant. "Doing alright?"

He glanced up at you, eyes lingering on your chest before moving to your face, scrubbing his metal arm.

"I'll have to get someone to look into my arm," he told you. "I don't know if something got between the plates."

You tilted your head, surprised.

"I thought it was self-cleaning," you noted. "Like... a fancy self-cleaning oven, of sorts."

His lips curled in a tiny smile at your joke.

"Most of the time," he confirmed. "But I never had alien pollen and goo on it before."

You shrugged, amused.

"Well, good luck," you wished him. "I sent that stuff to the database, just to be sure."

He hummed a bit in confirmation, and you left him alone, going to the food supply to fix dinner for you two.

"Bucky?" you called. "Why didn't you tell me they packed us lemons?"

Bucky had been the one to deal with the food on the way up, more used to making food in a ship than you'd ever been.

You looked back at the lack of answer and walked back to where you'd left him, finding him resting back on the wall, looking a little loopy.

"Bucky?" you called.

He jumped, surprised, though his eyes were still heavy.

"Hi," he gasped back. "Sorry, what?"

"Lemons," you told him. "You didn't tell me we had them. I can make lemonade."

Bucky took his hand to his nose, pinching in.

"I'm not hungry," he told you. "Maybe just... I don't know. Squeeze one for yourself?"

You shifted on your feet.

"Are you alright?"

Bucky rubbed his eye.

"Yeah," he waved you a dismissive hand.

"Maybe you should have a nap?" you suggested. "Did you sleep since we left?"

He moved slowly, shaking his head.

"Gotta make sure you're safe," he mumbled. "We're in space."

You shook your head.

Bucky was so protective, and it was cute, but it worried you a bit. You were a scientist, not an agent or an Avenger, like him, but it didn't mean you couldn't protect yourself. You worked for SHIELD! Being able to protect yourself was probably the most important thing after being good at your job.

"Well, we can't be more alone," you assured him. "And the ship is very good at protecting anyone who is inside."

He scoffed, but you reached for him anyway, pulling him.

"Come on," you told him. "Bedtime for you."

He grunted but followed you quietly as you guided him down to your shared dorm, sitting him on his bed - the bigger one, large enough to fit his massive body.

"Don't want to leave you alone," he fell back, hand holding yours closely.

You squeezed his hand and he took it closer to his face, nosing your skin.

"I'll be alright," you assured him. "Don't worry."

But Bucky didn't let you go, holding you with such firmness you couldn't help but focus a little too much on it.

His lips brushed against the back of your hand as his eyes closed, mumbling something so low you couldn't quite understand the words.

He dozed, and when you tried to move, he just held you in place.

You sighed, and reached for your bed, taking your pillow and sneaking it to his side. It was weird, maybe, but when you put it near his face, he sought it with his nose, sniffing it and moving closer and grabbing it, finally letting you go.

Bucky nuzzled your pillow happily, holding it in a tight grip as he turned to his side, and it awakened something in you, imagining how it would feel to be the one he was squeezing so closely like that.

Still, you stood up, shaking some wisdom into yourself and walking out, closing the door.

He needed to rest.

…

“Glitter and Goo” was first posted on my Patreon on April 2023. To read it now, subscribe to my page, it’s just $2 a month and I post 6x a week.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke ​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics​ @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​ @tayrae515 @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs​​? @patzammit​​? @thevanishedillusion​​? @widowsfics​​? @alexisshoto​​

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Glitter and Goo: @art2emily

[ozzgin]

Various Predators x Predator! Reader (IV)

@avaleigh16 asked (a very long time ago, sorry for the wait!!) for a fourth part to the Predator saga, where Reader is brought to Yautja Prime. Therefore I bring a potential sequel that focuses on Predator culture, depending on who you’ve chosen as your partner!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Horror Masterlist]

Feral Predator

As promised, your new home didn’t stray much from your expectations. Feral Predator is from a different hemisphere, of a drier climate. The imposing, sprawling megalopolis of Yautja Prime is but a distant outline, fading before the marvels of raw, unforgiving nature this place has to offer. Tribal architecture and interminable tunnels are the prominent features of these ancient cities. One has no need for advanced technology. In a way, it does remind you of Earth, of your modest countryside roots. Communities are made of small family units, so days are spent hunting or training in the company of your partner. Feral Predator is a patient and caring father, guiding his offspring and showing them the ropes of survival. There will be frequent visits to Earth as he, too, favors its wilderness, especially when it comes to honing one’s skills. While he treats you as an equal, he does hold you in significantly high regards as the mother of his children.

Elite Predator

With great status comes great responsibility. Elite Predator has been eyeing the Elder status for some time now, in order to provide you with one further reason to be grateful for choosing him. That implies, naturally, that he is often on special missions to teach or rescue Young Bloods, or clear out Alien infestations. Your offspring will go through Spartan training as soon as they can crawl their way around: it would be shameful if his own younglings end up weak or devoid of skill. Although he does not worry about such outcome. He hasn’t picked you out of random chance. Only someone of his level could’ve made it as his mate, and he was certain of it from the moment he saw you. Hopefully you, too, can tell that this outcome was fated to happen. You most certainly won’t regret your life with him, he will make sure of that.

Fugitive Bad Blood

If you were hoping for an idyllic, peaceful life in a humble hut with ocean view, I have some bad news for you. Even settling on Yautja Prime is an optimistic stretch when your partner is a criminal on the run. You’ve unwillingly followed in the footsteps of your parents, watching your child grow from within the confinements of a ship, sailing through space with no ultimate goal. Not all is grim, however. Despite his ruthless nature, the Fugitive has kept his word when it comes to being a fitting partner for you. Your wish is his command and he will not allow anything endanger his family. To your great shock, he’s even willing to take risky detours on Earth whenever you feel particularly nostalgic. He will stare at you incredulously; why the hell would he have gone through all the efforts to court you if he didn’t want you as a partner? Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with already? Whatever your heart desires, he will make it possible.

Berserker

The Super Predator cannot wait for his younglings to be old enough to begin their hunt. He lives to kill and one can easily tell from his impressive collection of trophies he has gathered from all across the Universe. Truth be told, you’re somewhat afraid to see the outcome of your copulation. Berserker Yautja are much larger and much more aggressive than your species. You’d assumed his first choice for a mate should’ve been from his own kind, but for reasons unknown he’s preyed on you instead. The Berserker seems to have a fervent attachment towards you and will even growl at his own sucklings if they show any sign of disrespect. There’s not much space for freedom and sometimes you feel like you’re trapped under the suffocating affections of a savage animal ready to defend its territory. From his point of view, you should enjoy the privilege of belonging to the superior Predator. There’s no one out there that could go against him.