#instead of really sitting with it and thinking about it...

[gay-dorito-dust]

Eddie:

He’s a tricky one.

He’s very peculiar with whom he lets get close to him but still there’s a lot of work on your behalf that needs to be done before he could even consider you to be one of those he’s closest to other then Volt. Even when he does he keeps most details about your relationship to himself, after all he didn’t find it necessary to let people know everything you did or were going to do at all, it’s not their business and he won’t make it their business to discuss amongst themselves as if this is a audience participation performance.

His affection/ care for you is one where he’s showing you just how carefully and how keenly he was to know you inside and out, picking up on things that you didn’t know that you did or even do in the first place. To be loved is to be seen or how the saying goes and Eddie does adhere to that in more ways than one.

He knows where you’ve left stuff and would move them to places that were more convenient for you, knowing that you’d probably spend hours on end tearing apart the house for your phone, the very same phone that is sitting on the kitchen counter in broad daylight for anyone to see even from the furthest corner of the room. If anything Eddie is saving you the hassle of the chase by cutting it shot and having what you needed in places that you could see before you.

He knows where your keys are, wallet/purse is, shoes, anything that he knew you would need and would easily loose if they weren’t within your direct line of sight. He never tells you that it’s him doing it but you’re well aware that it is him but didn’t want to say anything, and instead you merely brush your hand against the back of his own in a silent way of saying thanks.

Eddie has his moments, isn’t too keen on conversations that drag on past the point of him being able to withstand it, mainly due to him wanting to be anywhere else -with you preferably- then suffer another minute of mindless nonsense. Yet whenever he does small things like reminding you to tie your shoes, give you your keys, anything that would keep you within the routine that you’ve built for yourself and that’s when you appreciate him the most as you honestly didn’t know where you’d be without Eddie.

Volt:

Every time he touches you, you swear you keep getting an electric shock. It could be interlocked pinkies, his hand on the small of your back, interlocking arms, any form of physical contact and you’d experience a small shock now and then.

He on the other hand teases and says that’s just you, all the while giving you a knowing wink before he leaves most likely for the breaker box.

He knows what he’s doing, he’s very intentional with his touches and embraces that it leaves you feeling as though electricity is coursing through your veins afterwards, much to his delight as your reactions were the highlight of his day.

The second his eyes latches onto you, they’re following you no matter where you go, not really letting much else get in the way as he would even move his head if he needed to keep you within his line of sight. It’s just something he does that you couldn’t quite explain, even when you look at him while he’s looking at you, it’s almost as if he was rendering you breathless no matter how many times you’ve caught Volt in the act; after all the reaction was always the same.

He probably has more nicknames that he’s called you to the point where they might as well have become a permanent fixture, something that you’d knew you would always be greeted with without fail but that was mainly due to volt loving the expectant look upon your face whenever you did see him. It was something he knew you weren’t aware that you did but it was his personal favourite moments as it told him a lot more than what words ever could, so he just does it over and over again because it brings him as much sweet joy as it did you.

The Hanks:

If volt thinks he’s loud in his affection for you, then he’s never seen the hanks performing a fully thought out cheer routine for you, that ultimately ends in them in a dogpile somehow.

They are positivity incarnate but also chaotic with it while adding ‘bruh’ ‘dude’ ‘bro’ and the like at the beginning of their sentences followed by whatever they are talking about, the sentimentality of their messages is there but would most likely get some sayings wrong.

The Hanks make you feel as though you could do anything, even if you knew that it’s better then to let their words get to you in fear of doing something reckless, yet you can’t help but get a boost of confidence whenever they’re in your corner and cheering you on as loudly as they did.

so loudly that you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone within the house could hear their heartfelt and rambunctious shouts of encouragement over you just making yourself a breakfast or making buttered toast. They act as though you’ve just proven magic to be very much alive and real. There’s no real time for any form of negativity to come to your mind at all when the Hanks were already pulling you along with them to whatever they thought would be fun.

Your mind is occupied by the group and their activities that you would feel as though your moments were cheapened by the fact that the day was over, that you couldn’t have more time with them to do more fun stuff as a collective for everything with the Hanks was spontaneous but meaningful; for each and everything you did with them had formed a memory that you knew you’d keep for as long as you possibly could.

Amir:

He’s a mirror for fuck sake, he reflects what stands before him, seeing the beauty in everything from a potted plant to a singular stray sock at the foot of your bed.

So it’s not an act he’s putting on when he tells you that you’re radiant, ethereal, glowing and so on because he’s being the most genuine he could possibly be and you know it that it leaves you with a warmth within your chest whenever your with him.

If you were to ever display self consciousness or insecurity, something Amir hates to see especially upon you, this amazing man will do everything when his power to remind you that he’s a mirror, he couldn’t fabricate your reflection even if he tried because he wouldn’t dare deceive you from the beauty he always saw within you as he traces the features he had become so familiar at this point with a soft smile.

‘Perfect’ he says to himself, ‘just perfect.’

That one sentence alone was all that seemingly enough to make you forget everything you’ve feared wouldn’t be loved unconditionally, you could never become insecure when the man before you only saw your flaws a beauty in and of themselves for he refused to reflect any part of you that was ugly; to Amir nothing about you was ever considered ugly or unacceptable for you are the most precious person he’s ever had the honour of reflecting.

[mononijikayu]

when fushiguro megumi thinks about what it means to be someone, he doesn't think of crowds or glory, or the way people chase after recognition like it’ll fill something in them. he thinks of you.

he thinks of how your voice sounds when you say his name like it’s not just a word but a door. something you open with a kind of gentleness he didn’t know how much he needed until it was already part of his day.

he thinks about how you look at him like there’s something steady in him, something worth looking at twice. and he doesn’t say anything about it, of course. he rarely does. but he likes it. he likes being someone to you.

it lives in him quietly with him. to him, it's more than enough. because everything reminds him of you. every time he thinks of you smile, he thinks of the way rain settles into the earth without fanfare. every time you hold his hand, it's like spring sunrise all over again.

he doesn’t know when it started. maybe when you sat beside him without needing to fill the silence, maybe when you remembered something small he’d said weeks ago, like it mattered.

maybe it was earlier than that. maybe he was always going to carry this part of himself around, waiting for someone like you to make sense of it. he doesn't know. but that didn't matter.

it’s not just friendship. it’s not just affection tucked behind glances and small talk. it’s the ache of wanting to mean something more and the quiet joy of already meaning something at all.

he doesn’t ask for much. he never has. not even when he had the world when gojo was willing to give it to him. but sometimes, when the world is quiet and his thoughts drift too close to hope, he lets himself imagine what it would be like.

to not just be someone in the background, not just a boy with shadows and silence, but someone who matters to you in ways that reach beyond the edges of what’s been said. and if that’s what it means to be someone, then maybe, in your eyes, he already is.

it’s one of those nights where everything feels softer. the moon’s out, silver and sleepy, and the crickets are singing somewhere in the grass. you and megumi are sitting on the dorm steps, shoulder to shoulder, sharing the kind of quiet that feels full instead of empty.

you kick your feet a little. “hey, megumi?”

“hm?”

“do you ever wonder what it means to be someone…special to another person?”

he shifts just slightly beside you. “special how?”

you shrug, nose scrunching a little. “like�� not just a friend. not just someone in the room. someone who matters a lot to someone else, even if they don’t say it all the time.”

megumi’s quiet for a second. you can hear the way he draws in a breath, like the question surprised him a little. “.....i guess i do.” he says softly. “sometimes.”

you turn to look at him. he’s gazing straight ahead, but his expression is thoughtful, a little faraway.

“i don’t really care about being someone to… everyone.” he murmurs. “but… i think i like being someone to you. even just a little bit.”

your heart stutters in your chest. “yeah?”

he nods, still not looking at you. “even if i don’t say much. i think about it. i like when you notice me. when you remember stuff. when you just…sit with me like this.”

you nudge your shoulder against his gently. “well…i like noticing you.”

he finally looks at you then, lashes low, expression soft in that quiet megumi way. in a way only he knew how to. like he’s not used to being looked at like this, but he’s not going to run from it, either.

“i don’t always know how to show it, if i'm being honest.” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “but i really do care. about being someone to you. more than a friend. more than just…”

“just megumi?” you tease, your voice light but fond.

he actually cracks the tiniest smile. the same smile that you think makes him looks adorable to you. it was just a small, crooked thing. and somehow, your heart does a full somersault.

“yeah.....” he says. “more than just megumi.”

you reach out and gently poke his cheek. “well, too bad. you’re my megumi now.”

he flushes, blue-green eyes darting away, but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile again. blush slowly sequestered through his cheeks.

“…that okay with you?” you add quietly.

his voice is soft. steady. “yeah. i think i’d like that a lot.”

and for a moment, everything feels simple. just you, him, and the hush of a night that seems to wrap itself around your little corner of the world like a secret.

[pastabaguette]

okay guys. here’s a little humanstuck writing i did today accompanied by a sketch because it feels weird posting with no art:

     That kid never sits with anybody, Naipunya’s thinking. What’s his deal? 

     She’s carrying her big plastic lunch tray out of the kitchen, which bears today’s lunch, spaghetti and meatballs. Soggy and crumbly and they never taste good. There’s a carton of 2% skim milk on the side, and some baby carrots, similarly soggy and tasteless. They’re stale, too, and dry. How can something be dry and soggy at the same time? They’re making everyone take a vegetable with their lunch, for nutrition. Nobody eats it though, so it’s a waste of food. It’s such a waste of food, so why do they do that? Naipunya doesn’t understand it. 

     She stands in the cafeteria noise outside the kitchen with her tray, pondering this dilemma, and thinking about where to sit today. She’s still watching that kid. His hair is straight and brown and long. He kind of looks like a girl if you look at him from the back, she thinks. That kid never gets the school lunch. He brings a big metal lunchbox instead. He’s sitting at his usual table today. Nobody else is sitting there. He doesn’t talk to anyone. 

     He’s unpacking his lunch, presently focused solely on the big box. First he unfolds a big white napkin, which had neatly enveloped a round white plate. The napkin is placed, slightly crumpled and askew, and the plate goes on top. With the boy having cleared the plate, the rest of the lunchbox’s contents below are now freed. From where Naipunya’s standing, it’s hard to see exactly what else is inside. 

     She’s deciding now whether or not she’s going to sit with him today. She doesn’t particularly have anywhere else to be, but maybe he’s alone for a reason. Maybe he’s mean. But maybe no one sits with him because he doesn’t have any friends. Naipunya decides she’ll move closer to his table to get a better look. 

     He’s pulling out a sizable glass bottle of milk now, which had lain aside two other wrapped things. His posture straightens slightly as he handles it, and he eagerly uncaps the bottle in anticipation. He grips the bottle with both hands and, raising it to his mouth, drinks it down voraciously. She watches him drink for several seconds, swallowing each gulp with increasing intensity. Finally, he slams the glass back down, having drunk almost the whole bottle in one long swig. The glass makes a loud CLUNK against the cafeteria table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, not bothering to recap the bottle. 

     Closer, she can see him clearer now. His dark hair contrasts sharply with his pale face. Besides the hair that falls down his back about his shoulderblades, choppy bangs cover the sides of his forehead. The sides, but not the middle, because he’s got a cowlick on the top of his head which pushes them away like some sort of curtain. Now he’s taking the bigger of the two wrapped things out of his box, a sandwich with lettuce, and putting it on his plate. His hair makes him look like a horse. 

     “Your hair makes you look like a horse.” she tells him, standing over his table now.

     The horse boy startles slightly at the sound —evidently he hadn’t noticed her approach in all the room’s noise—  but regains his composure quickly, turning to look in her direction. His eyes are blueish grey. His face has brightened a bit; his previous seriousness now replaced with something almost like a smile. 

     “Yes,” he says, pausing before he continues, “Thank you.” 

     Naipunya beams. 

i haven’t really done any creative writing like this in about six years, i think. i’m kind of nervous sharing it because of that. please don’t be super mean in the comments.

[dating-eveeything]

Mac romantic hcs please? 🥺 (preferably with a gender neutral reader but whatever you are comfy with writing is ok too!)

Romantic headcanons for: MAC

Featuring: Mac

Fic type: headcanons, fluff!!

No content warning, pretty short length wise, Gender neutral reader :)

Yay!! I love Mac soo much, made me so happy to see this in my inbox ❤️

First of all, once you enter a relationship with Mac your 11.5 hours of screentime a business week skyrockets higher than a person who touches grass could ever imagine.

Mac is pretty in-between when it comes to physical affection; though they tell you late one night that they only like it when you touch their keys or mess with the mouse.

Kisses are an average occurrence, leaning over the side of their chair and grabbing onto your shirt like it's the end of their life to tug you down- Peppering your face in kisses.

Post-getting together they push just a little more for you to get better parts for their system, promising that a new fan would work wonders for both them and you. Of course they understand the hesitation to replace anything, parts are so expensive nowadays, but they know eventually they'll wear you down.

And obviously, not only do they get you to buy things for them, but things for you too. That shirt set you wanted but decided on not getting? They're holding you close and telling you about how nice you would look in them, how good it'll feel to 'treat yourself'.

Sadly, you can't sit on their lap. Their legs don't have the strength to keep up any weight over ~10 pounds. But that doesn't mean you can't still cuddle up to them; Mac can sit on your lap, or the two of you can sit on the floor together under the desk, or you can lay in bed together.

Albeit, Mac doesn't like standing idle, so it might take some work to get them to rest. They always want to be working on something, even if that work ends up being a boring desk job where you really only respond to emails.

They enjoy showing off things they think you'll like, using popups to show you a funny video they saw online, or a jacket that's just your style, it's one of their most common ways of showing they pay attention to you.

Their love language is Parallel Play. Simply sitting next to you and working on separate things is fine with them. Hell, you could be talking to Chance or Dasha and they wouldn't care- as long as you hold their hand and squeeze it from time to time.

Not really the jealous type, they know you on a very intimate level, they know your type; they are your type. It's going to take more than some mediocre pick-up lines over text to get them jealous.

Though, there was this one time where they shut off the show you were watching instead of working because you kept oogling one of the actors. So maybe it isn't as hard as you think?

Flustering them is rather easy, no double clicking needed. Praise gets their fan running quicker than it probably should. They especially enjoy it when you praise them for their smooth running systems after a long day of running some pretty big programs and they'll melt.

[harehart]

Bonus thought:

“I hope you proposed to your tattoo artist, those are unreal.” Some pretty brunette with big eyes had slid next to Simon by the pool table when you went to get drinks and talk with the bartender. Two pints later you are making your way back over, stopping a bit short when you hear her gush over him.

It doesn’t bother you in the slightest, being stopped by those with enough guts to make a comment to Simon’s face about his ink. Mostly tipsy women at the bar, case in point. He was practically a walking advertisement and you’ve been gladly reaping those benefits. Thats what funded this little vacation for the two of you on Simon’s leave in the first place. So you’re more than happy to sit back and let them compliment your man, you know he’s hot but the real treat is seeing HIM realize he’s hot.

Simon gives the woman a polite dip of his head. Even from this distance you can see the corner of his eye crinkle and you know the dirty grin growing under the black medical mask. He catches your eye, “didn’t think tha was an option.”

“I only take cash or card.” You say sweetly, dangling the pint in front of him. A gleam of recognition shows in the brunettes eyes as she looks at you, her soft smile earning one from you in turn.

“Well of course your girl knows what you’d look hottest in.” She laughs, “lucky guy.” She’s stepping away from Simon’s space and giving a small wave as she walks away. You watch her go, mid-drink. You glance over at Simon, hoping to see his flushed ears and furrowed brow under such attention. Instead he’s giving you the ‘really?’ look. Arched brow and everything. Maybe you should give him a few piercings too.

“Wot. This could work out well for the both of us, y’know?” You say, face warm.

“Down girl.”

Case in point, benefits.

Literally wrote this while getting a tat | mdni 18+ cw: a little pain play if you squint lol

simon riley x tattoo artist!reader

Being Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s tattoo artist 🖤🗝️🕸️

• He sees you more than he sees his own friends when he’s on leave. He’ll darken the doorway of the shop when the itch under his skin gets to be too much, and sits his large-ass self in your chair with a dull, expectant look on his face.

• You’ve done more than a few pieces on him by now, filling in the gaps in his sleeve and all that. It’s become a bit of a routine, him sitting on the couch thumbing through your portfolio until he finds something he likes. Then coming to loom over where you’re working behind the front desk, silently pointing at what he wants done.

• You don’t press him for conversation, getting lost in your work and letting him admire how your pretty eyes narrow in concentration and how you lean over him so closely he feels the heat of you soaking through his clothes. It lets him get lost in the same way; the way the needle jumps in and out of his skin and how his mind fogs over with the repetitive sting. It’s the realest thing he’s felt in months. Don’t mind how he has to tap out for a moment to tuck his chubing cock into his waistband, no use startling the pretty thing only trying to do her job.

• It’s his fourth appointment and he’s flipping through the pages when you silently slide your tablet in front of him. It’s filled corner to corner with designs. All of which fucked severely, but you were a little busy worrying about whether or not he thought it was creepy of you to have thought about him enough to draw up what you think he’d look hottest with. He wanted all of it, wanted his whole body covered in your work.

“Figured you’ve already seen all I’ve got by now,” You say, arms crossed on the desk trying not to burn a hole through your chair with how hot you feel under his gaze, “You stayed away long enough for me to get a few ideas started.”

“All of it?”

“Of course not, they aren’t even finished-”

“All of it.” he says firmly, his voice dropping to something lazy and slick.

• He loves being in your studio. Classic movie posters and album art decorating the walls and a candle burning in the corner, all very you. He asks what some of them are and is endlessly amused when you don’t believe he’s never seen the Godfather of all things. He likes it even more when you put something on for him while you work, interrupting with all your thoughts and little facts. All while he watches your hands on his skin, how your fingers shift and graze a tender spot that has him biting back his breathy sighs.

• When he goes home after a session he just about fists his cock raw to the intoxicating mix of the dull throbbing of his skin and the smell of your perfume that lingers on him like you’ve practically rubbed yourself all over him. It gets him going more than anything, especially when he’s been deployed and all he has is the dull sting of a healing tattoo to keep him company.

You’d have his head if you knew he was fisting his cock with a freshly inked hand, rich black decorating his fingers up to the second knuckle and throbbing under his rough movements but god it got him there. Thinking of how you moved his fingers like they were an extension of your own body, your own so much smaller and thinner than his as they worked their magic on him. He was pretty sure the cum spilling over his knuckles wasn’t part of your aftercare sheet. He fell asleep thinking about how you would scold him if you knew, then help him out instead with your own talented hands.

It all comes to a head one day when he stops by to drop off the deposit for his next appointment and you aren’t there to greet him at the front desk, one of the other artists waves him in and tells him to drop it off in your room out back. On his way he hears your voice down the hall only to find you in another artist’s room, on your back with your tits out getting an under-bust piece. Your eyes are closed and your breathing even, headphones in your ears and your body one smooth, lax line as you lay there. He just about stops breathing. The only two things to catch up are his cock and his mouth when it begins to water as he watches your tits rise and fall with your breathing, your nipples sadly hidden by some pasties. And fuck if he doesn’t have to bite down on the groan trying to spill from his throat at the sight of the fresh ink on your skin. Jewelry, like the kind you like to wear, draped between your tits and scooping low on your ribcage, like his own personal rosary to pray to when he’s on his knees for you.

His heart drops to his stomach when your eyes flutter open and he can’t look away fast enough.

“Simon.” The sound of you saying his name guts him, breathy and like you were happy to see him. Fuck. You don’t even look bothered to see him salivating over your half naked body, nor ashamed to have your tits out for him to see.

“Oh thanks for bringing that by, put it on my chair would you?” You lift your head to look at your coworker, “Can we take a break?”

“Fine, you’ve been sitting like shit today anyway.”

“I’m a rock and you know it.” you say, pulling the loose tank top you came in with over your chest and willing the heat away from your face before following your favorite regular.

Inside you were drowning in sensation, all of it heightened by the feeling of his eyes on you like a brand. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’ve had to hurry home to get off after getting a piece done, panties embarrassingly slick just from letting the pain wash over you and take your head to a place you’ve only been able to find under the needle. It was made much worse by him and all he did was look at you, with his deep brown eyes and pretty pale lashes. You hope you don’t wear your desire on your face as you take deep breaths to calm your madly beating heart.

“I thought it would be awhile until I saw you next.” you say breezily, “sorry I wasn’t out front, I would have waited for you if I knew.”

He only hums, giving you a slow up and down look “real pretty thing you’ve got there.” he says, nodding at your chest where a sliver of the piece pokes out from below your tank top.

You can’t help the smile that breaks from you, a shy thing that had him reaching into his pockets so he doesn’t reach for you.

“You think so?” your voice gone all breathy

“You think ‘m lying to you?” he hums, crowding your space and looking down at you, head tilting to the side as he plants the cash he brought with him in your palm.

He asks you the same thing when he’s making out with your puffy, sticky pussy. When he breaks away he doesn’t go far, unwilling to break the clear strands of your gooey slick connecting his lips back to your cunt.

“Sweetest fuckin’ thing,” he slurs and your responding moan has him rutting into your bed sheets, “still think I’m lyin’ to you?” he chuckles and plants a wet, messy kiss on your twitching clit. The wet smack of it has your back arching and he burns the image into the backs of his eyelids and hopes he dreams about it. The way your tits sit all pretty and the delicate ink wrapping around your ribcage. He wonders if he should get one to match.

[flaminhotlem0n]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

genre: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

wc: less than 1k ig

pairing: hyunjin x reader

cw: arguing, mild injury, mentios of blood, a lot of angst with comfort at the end

not proofread

꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷꒦﹋ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ ꒷

the apartment felt smaller than usual, too tight for two people full of unsaid things.

“you’re not even listening to me, hyunjin”

you stood in the middle of the living room, hands clenched, voice rising as tears threatened to form. “you never do, you always shut down when something matters to me.”

hyunjin scoffed, pacing, eyes sharp.

“and you always find something to complain about, no matter what I do, it’s not enough.”

you blinked, hurt by how fast he turned it into a battle again.

“i’m not saying you’re not enough,” you said, softer now. “I just need you to meet me halfway”

“I’m tired, okay? I’m tired of being blamed all the time.” he said raising his voice again

“I’m not blaming you, I’m begging you to talk to me instead of shutting me out!”

his jaw tightened. “Then stop pushing me, stop making everything such a big deal”

you took a step back, chest tightening. the weight of everything, weeks of miscommunication, of bottling up emotions, of tiptoeing around each other, everything was crashing down. your turned slightly, trying to hold in the tears, and your elbow accidentally hit a glass jar sitting on a nearby shelf.

it was the jar where hyunjin kept some of his paintbrushes, the old ones, the ones with sentimental value.

“seriously?” he said, glaring at the mess. “you’re breaking my stuff now? perfect”

“it was an accident, I-”

“oh sure, it always is,” he cut you off with sarcasm. “you made the mess, clean it”

you swallowed hard. he was being cruel, more than usual. but in silence, you knelt down and began picking up the shards scattered across the floor. That’s when it happened. A sharp, deep cut in the palm of your hand. You let out a small gasp of pain, but said nothing. Ignoring it felt easier than dealing with another blow from his mouth.

“s ee? serves you right,” Hyunjin muttered without even looking at you. “you’re always so damn careless”

the words hit harder than the glass.

that sentence broke you, not because of the pain, but because of everything that had been building up inside for weeks. His words were the last straw. the tears came fast, hot, silent at first… then turned into sobs.

you stood up with your wounded hand clutched close to your chest, unable to say a word. the pain wasn’t just physical now. your heart felt like it had been cut just as deep. and this time, you didn’t fight back. you simply turned and walked away, tears sliding down your cheeks.

only when you passed him did he finally see you. ssee the blood dripping down your arm. see the way your lips trembled.

“wait” he reached toward you instinctively “you’re really bleeding?”

you didn’t stop. yo walked into the bathroom and locked the door. you couldn’t speak. the tears wouldn’t stop. your chest ached, and your hand too.

on the other side of the door, his voice came seconds later, softer, more urgent. he tried the doorknob. “y/n open the door please”

you sat on the edge of the tub, cradling your hand, tears falling freely now.

he knocked again. “is it deep? did you cut yourself badly? please talk to me”

silence.

“y/n, please, let me see your hand. it could be serious, open the door”

you stayed quiet.

“cmon baby, I didn’t see… I didn’t know you got hurt. I was just angry, I didn’t mean what I said.” his voice cracked. “God, I didn’t think, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I didn’t mean to say those things”

still, you couldn’t speak. you didn’t want to let him see you like that, falling apart because of him.

“please, open the door, let me take care of you”

still crying, you walked to the door and unlocked it with your free hand. hyunjin was standing right there, eyes glassy. he stepped in slowly, like he was afraid to make it worse. he grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and sat down with you on the cold bathroom floor.

“let me see” he whispered, gently taking your hand. his touch was soft, careful, full of guilt. as he cleaned the cut in silence, lips pressed in guilt, eyes focused and soft.

once it was bandaged, he exhaled shakily.

“I’m an asshole” he whispered. “a total asshole”

you looked at him, tears brimming again, but this time, softer.

“that hurt, hyunjin, and i’m not talking about my hand”

he closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I hate the way I talk when I’m mad, I was angry and Itook it out on you and that’s not fair”

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to say the things I said” you lowered your head, also feeling guilty for everything that was spoken earlier

he moved closer, cupping your face with both hands. warm and careful.

you looked at him, eyes still filled with tears.

“from now on, I’ll listen more. I’ll stop shutting you down. I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll do whatever it takes, because I love you”

your bottom lip trembled.

“can you forgive me?” he whispered

you nodded, and then you were in his arms. his embrace strong and protective, your face buried in his neck. he rocked you gently, as if trying to soothe the storm he helped create. his hands ran slowly up and down your back.

“I’ve got you now” he murmured into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting go, never”

[shortandsosweet]

YOU AND ME FOREVERMORE

Summary: New Years means new beginnings, so does that include you and the older brother of your best friend you've been pining after forever?

Pairings: Jack Hughes x Brother's Best Friend!Reader + Luke Hughes x Best Friend!Reader (Platonic)

TW: Age Gap (Reader is implied to be Luke's age so roughly a 2 year age gap), mentions of sex, light cursing, underage drinking, probably more but let me know what I missed.

A/N: Soooooooooo.... I know I haven't released anything I should have but I'm blessing you with something I do have which I really hope you like instead of being sad about no Back To The 80s or Weird Science (I still have no clue how chapter one managed to get posted but fuck me whatever I guess!!!!) I also know I said this was gonna be posted 15 minutes after but I just finished editing this on my lunch break. Anyways, I hope you love it. Love, Amelié

THERE'S GLITTER ON THE FLOOR AFTER THE PARTY, GIRLS CARRYING THEIR SHOES DOWN IN THE LOBBY,

POLAROIDS AND CANDLE WAX ON THE HARDWOOD FLOOR, YOU AND ME FROM THE NIGHT BEFORE,

NEW YEARS DAY 2025 - PRESENT DAY

You're sweeping glitter, picking up pictures, cups and champagne flutes from the party the night before. Jack is off picking up pictures on the opposite side of the apartment. He picks up one taken of you by Luke. When you're not looking he slides it away in his pocket.

"You don't have to clean up. I got it." He says picking the last of the polaroids off the floor and heads over to you. "I know. I wanted to. Besides, there's a mess and Lukey's off with a girl and not here to help. That's not fair to leave it all on you." I say not looking up from my picking at the wax on the floor. One bigger piece giving me an issue. He bends down and our hands brush and our gazes meet and we giggle at the other.

And all I could think about is how I could do this for the rest of my life if the world would let me.

I STAY WHEN YOU'RE LOST

MAY 7TH 2024

"I don't get it Y/N/N. I can pick a girl up easy enough but keeping her is another story. Not just any girl, a good one. One Mom and Dad would treat like their daughter, someone Lukey would love and Quinn would crack a smile at." Jack says, head in your lap as you rake your fingers through his curls. You give the thought time to breathe. You fit the whole bill. Why couldn't he see?

One breath, two, three, four, then five.

"I guess she's just....not the one." You brush the hair from his eyes, "You'll know when you find her, J. You won't have to think about it because it'll be so obvious that anyone else would seem incomparable."

Breaths pass between you two in perfect synchronicity, and Jack will never admit it, but that's when he knew how bad he had fallen.

AND I'M SCARED

APRIL 14TH 2022

"JACK PLEASE COME OVER RIGHT NOW!" You screech over the phone as you sit on your dorm counter holding a frying pan as a weapon. In no less than ten minutes, Jack arrives and hurriedly opens the door. "What's wrong?" he asks as you point and screech at the massive spider crawling around your kitchenette.

"KILL IT JACK!!!!" You yell, crying and clutching the frying pan. Jack calmly walks over, puts the poor spider out of its misery, takes the frying pan out of your hands, picks you up and sets you down on your bed and pulls out your laptop. "What movie are we watching?" He turns and smiles. You instinctively lay your head on his shoulder.

Does he know you'd wrangle the moon and stars for him? Does he know how badly you wish this moment would last your entire lifetime?

AND YOU'RE TURNING AWAY

OCTOBER 15TH 2017

You were fifteen. Hormones were high and boys were no longer just friend or foe. Boys became bro or boyfriend and you wanted so badly to have Jack Hughes be more than another bro.

Sure, he was two years your senior and your best friend's older brother. As you went through puberty, Jack got distant. Focused more on school and hockey. You, his baby brother's friend, were put on the back burner. Even Luke got funky, though it probably had something to do with a crush of his own on a girl in your grade.

Luke was out at practice a little later than usual, so you strolled over expecting to hang out with Luke but decided to hang out with Jack while you waited. "Hey, Jackie. Whatcha up to?" Jack was on his phone aimlessly scrolling, clearly up to nothing.

"What are you doing here?" he says semi-coldly. I flinch slightly but answer. "Lukey was supposed to be home to hang out but I guess practice ran late." he nods in response, walking over to where you were standing outside his door and closing it in your face. You, on the brink of tears, were found by Quinn, who hung out with you until Luke got home.

You never wanted to love a boy ever again.

I WANT YOUR MIDNIGHTS

NEW YEAR'S EVE 2022

You moved to New Jersey when you got accepted to Rutgers, it wasn't a conscious decision to be closer to Jack. It just happened and when you moved in with him after his insistence and his three bedroom apartment being too empty for himself, a year after you had your fill of the college dorm experience.

You moved in and for the past year in Jersey, you watched Jack not be your new years kiss. You told yourself, new year, new chances. The whole night you threw glances at him and he threw some back. You two were 100% eye fucking the other and neither of you cared. You drank like you were Irish and at midnight, you found your way to Jack.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

You chanted with everyone around you as the ball slowly dropped.

Five.

You turned to Jack,

Four.

You took his face in your hands,

Three.

You steadied your breath,

Two.

"I'm sorry,"

One.

You kiss Jack and don't hold back, fingers tangle, tongues make an entrance into the other's mouth. What should have been an elongated peck has turned into a fireworks show in the middle of the room. Far too soon for you, but far past the midnight kiss grace period, you break away. For the rest of the night, neither of you glance the other's way.

BUT I'LL BE CLEANING UP BOTTLES WITH YOU ON NEW YEARS DAY

NEW YEARS DAY 2025 - PRESENT DAY

You and Jack got the wax off and decided to tackle the large amount of beer bottles scattered across the apartment. After getting your little portion you head to help Jack with his massive pile. You drop a bottle, "Oops, I got it." and in a lame attempt to pick up the pieces, you cut your hand. "Ah!"

Drip. Drip.

Jack hurries over, "Where? Show me." You open your palm,

Drip. Drip.

Jack lifts you and carries you to the bathroom and sets you down on the counter. "Y/N/N, you need to be careful." He says sharply but still gentle, you nod in acknowledgement. He pulls out peroxide, "I have to clean it." he holds your hand steady over the sink and once it hits your wound, you start to cry. Jack puts gauze over your wound. Jack wipes your tears away and you place a kiss on his cheek. Your favorite way to say thank you that you've used forever.

"Not on the lips?"

I'LL BE THERE IF YOU'RE THE TOAST OF THE TOWN, BABE

JUNE 21ST, 2019

Jack's draft day. He was nervous but he knew he'd get picked. What really made him sweat was the girl who sat next to him. He'd seen you in a dress for homecoming and winter formal, but this one was short and you no longer were Luke's brace face barely hit puberty friend. You got hot and everyone could tell. Quinn and Jack's heads rolled any time you walked in. You were put between Luke and Jack at the draft. Jack started bouncing his knee furiously. You merely put my hand on his knee.

"Jack, any one of these teams would be blessed to have you on their roster. You'll get picked. It wouldn't even surprise me if you were the first to go." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He moves to hold your hand instead of having it on his knee. And you were right. Jack went first overall to the Devils. He turned and squeezed you. You kissed his cheek. "Go get 'em champ!"

Despite being friends with more hockey players than you can count, you knew little to nothing about it. Jack hugged Quinn, then Luke, and his parents last, before heading up to the stage. There was a sea of potential prospects and family but his eyes were on you. A mouthed "Thank you," was all he said but you couldn't do anything but smile.

Maybe you could love a boy again... or maybe you never stopped loving him.

OR IF YOU STRIKE OUT AND YOU'RE CRAWLING HOME

SEPTEMBER 30TH 2022

The Devils had just lost miserably in a score Jack would rather not think about or repeat.

This being the last year you and Jack had the apartment to yourselves before Luke joined you two in Jersey. You sat on the couch with a wine glass. Jack came in and looked defeated, slumping on the couch, his head in your lap.

He did a double take at it. "Is that-" he said before quickly cutting it off. "I had a bad date and yes, I'm under age by like less than a year but it's not my fault the liquor stores in Jersey like my fake ID." You say sipping your wine again. Jack promptly takes it from your hands and finishes it off. "Remind me to find that and take it from you." You don't mention you saw the game. It'd only serve to make him feel worse. He walks over to the mini table by the front door, decides goes through your purse and finds the fake ID before snapping it in half, then tosses it in the garbage.

"Hey! I paid good money for that wine and that ID!" Jack scoffs and shoves 300 bucks in your wallet.

"That should about cover it." As you attempt to steal back your wine, Jack decides that he would much prefer to lay his head on your lap and pass out instead of wallowing in self pity and anger. Instinctively, you run your fingers through the strands. Jack groans in response, burrowing his face into your stomach. "Feels good. Soooo fucking good." To which, you grin eagerly in response, somewhat relieved he can't see your face. You'd think that with the way you're acting, you just got told you won the lottery and not the Shirley Jackson kind.

About an hour or so later, you and Jack had finished the bottle of wine. "Y/N, you're so pretty. Like that you don't even need to think about it kind of pretty."

That night gave you new found hope for what could be right in front of your eyes and not your dreams.

HOLD ON TO THE MEMORIES THEY WILL HOLD ON TO YOU

NEW YEARS DAY 2025 - PRESENT DAY

The apartment is quiet after the question,

"Not on the lips?"

Did he feel it too? The pull? Your feelings? Did he have some of his own? Or was it to pity you? Either way, you took too long to speak. Like always. You silently walked to your room laid down and let quiet tears spill. You hold on to the thought of how even though you'd screwed it up, you'd hold on to your New Years kiss, it was a moment, a memory, you'd cherish forever. And now that's all it'll ever be.

'Be Bold Y/N, silence never got you anywhere.' you thought, far too intently and it wasn't till an hour later that Jack came into your room.

"Do you always overthink about what you want?" he asked. Shocking you to your core, making you fumble for words. "What do you mean?" You say nervously fidgeting, replaying his earlier words over.

"Not on the lips?"

"Not on the lips?"

"Not on the lips?"

"Not on the lips?"

"Not on the lips?"

No matter how you say it or emphasize it he's flirting. Right? Do you even want that? Of course you do, you've only dreamed about it forever. But like this? Here and now? The truth is you don't know what to do. You've only ever wanted, a never been wanted.

"I meant what I said earlier and I meant it now. Do you always overthink what you want?" I freeze. "I guess that's my answer." he responds.

I sit in a self deprecating and confused loop stuck in my head. What ifs and he wouldn'ts spiral. Jack's voice snaps you out of your spiral as he turns back from presumably his exit.

"Y/N, I think about that night all the time."

PLEASE DON'T EVER BECOME A STRANGER WHO'S LAUGH I COULD RECOGNIZE ANYWHERE

SEPTEMBER 19TH 2023

For the first time ever, you and Jack weren't the only ones living in the apartment. Nights where your head used to lay on his shoulder and watch movies were filled with Luke quite literally between you two. Never a moment alone. Cooking, carpool, movie nights, dinner, you name it he was probably there.

You two weren't a couple but it felt like you both craved alone time with the other. The first person either of you to nominate to leave the apartment for a grocery store run or to get the take out.

One night, you were fed up. So fed up with your best friend you were determined to say or do anything for him to leave the apartment for even an hour or two.

"Luke, you should go out tonight."

"Luke, don't you always say you don't know anyone in Jersey? You're never gonna meet anyone stuck in the apartment."

"Have you seen the shore this late at night? It's beautiful. You should go see it."

"Luke, I hear the deli 7 blocks away has fantastic sandwiches. You should go see if they're still open."

"What about that girl from Hinge? What is she doing tonight? You should go see her."

He brushed off every attempt for you to try and get him to leave.

"Luke! Okay, I tried being subtle and you know I love you to bits and pieces, but you are always here! Sometimes it's a little suffocating with you around all the time." It silently clicks in Luke's head and he leaves with a wink and awkward finger guns. "Gotcha, I expect to hear about what a douche bag whatever hookup you're referring to is!" And he's gone before I can say anything.

Jack walks in and says, "Since when do you have a hookup over?" A flicker of hurt shines in his eyes before it's quickly masked. It was so quick it could've just been a figment of imagination. You weren't so sure.

"I'm not and I don't. I told Luke plain and simple he's around the apartment far too much and he took it a different way." He seems relieved but ghosts an indifferent tone over it.

"Cool."

YOU AND ME FOREVERMORE

JULY 4TH 2012

The first time you realized you loved Jack Hughes, was a way you could only ever do the first time around.

"Lulu?" You asked, your feet softly padding against the floor of your best friend's room at the lake house. You found your best friend fast asleep and if there was one thing to learn about Luke Hughes, trying to get him up was like waking the dead. No matter how scared you were of the fireworks that already started at 2 am, Luke couldn't quell your worries now. Defeated, you skipped past Quinn's room hearing him talk quietly with another female voice. You didn't need to know whoever was in there, so you scurried to Jack's room.

"Jack?" You step quietly over to the bed as another firework goes off. A quiet tear rolls down your face. You softly jostle Jack, "Jacky? Please wake up."

"Y/N?" He glances around to outside, still dark, then to his alarm clock 2:12 am. "What are you doing awake? Is something wrong?" He sits up, noticing the tears on your face and quiet sniffles. "Oh Y/N, what's the matter?"

Another firework sounds and I flinch, Jack in response immediately tugs you into the bed with him. Tears well in your eyes and he holds you close. Your head lays on his chest. "It's okay, Y/N. It can't hurt you. I've got you." He lulls you asleep and follows soon after, fireworks still booming outside.

Luke wandered around in the morning, wondering where you'd gone. Not in your room, not in his, not in Quinn's or the living room. He found you saddled up next to Jack who laid asleep next to you, his position protective. Luke kept quiet, left the room, and never said a word about it. You were half awake wondering if every boy was this caring and understanding. After that, you never were alone for fireworks anymore. Jack made sure of that.

I WILL HOLD ON TO YOU

NEW YEARS DAY 2025 - PRESENT DAY

Sheets rustle and tangle beneath, above, and between your bodies. Sweat thick in the air covering your stripped bodies. The heat between you a palpable contrast to the cool air blowing in and the sting of scratches from the other. The two of you intertwined in sheets in ways you never would've thought of when you first shared a bed so many years ago. You hear the door of the apartment open and you give a slightly panicked glance to Jack who only holds you closer. You can hear Luke set his keys down in the bowl and him kick off his shoes which will 100% be all over the walk in area. You hear his feet move against the floor, hitting the creakier floorboards.

"Hellooooooooooo? Guys, I'm home! Where are you at? I know you're at least home Jack, you don't have shi- OH MY GOD I KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN EVENTUALLY BUT OH MY GOD MY EYES!" Luke says walking out but you two couldn't help but smile.

©shortandsosweet do not redistribute, recreate, repost my content on any other platforms.

[witchbitchlovesdilfs]

Gahh im loving everything you write. If youre still taking requests - what about one where the reader's medication makes her nauseous and Jack is just the gentle soft man we all love?

Gentle

Jack Abbot x reader

warnings: language, pills, chronically ill reader

words: 0.36k

a/n: I really needed this today, so thank you sm for the request! ❤️

You didn’t think things could get any worse than your usual suffering, but here you are - curled over on the toilet, gasping for breaths as you fight the intense and rising urge to vomit.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door - gentle, cautious.

“I’m okay,” you grunt out, wrapping your arms around your torso to fight the pain and nausea. 

“Is it the new medication?” Jack asks, opening the door slightly so he can get a look at you. Your eyes are bloodshot, your hair damp and clinging to your face, and you’re shaking. Jack enters and leans against the wall opposite you.

“I think so,” you nod. You’d recently been prescribed this new medication to help with all the pain and fatigue you always felt - some big brand with a long ass name - but instead of helping, it just worsened your symptoms. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking increasingly short breaths. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Jack shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. I’m just sorry I didn’t wake up sooner.” He sighs in thought. “I’ll go get you a Ginger Ale or something.”

You’re reaching out for him before he can turn to leave. “Stay…please?”

Jack’s expression is so soft it could melt. “Of course.” He moves to sit on the floor in the most comfortable position he can manage and rests his hands on your knees. “Deep breaths,” he says gently, moving your hand to press firmly against his chest as he takes breaths of his own. You follow suit.

“Have you taken it yet today?” he asks, referring to the new medication.

You shake your head as your breaths deepen. Jack nods, relieved. “I’ll call Dr. Clark later and update her.”

Sniffling, you manage a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Jack says again. He rises to his feet. “Can I take you back to bed?”

“Please.”

Carefully, Jack scoops you into his arms and sets you back on your side of the bed. He sits next to you, back against the headboard, and you rest your head against his shoulder. 

Jack kisses the top of your head. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

And you believe him.

[strang3lov3]

Quiet Time

You cum too hard, causing a migraine. Dad takes care of you.

Tags - dad!tom, one shot, incest, smut, piv, creampie, blowjobs, migraine/headaches, comfort, fluff-adjacent (shut your fucking mouth), aftercare, whisper of piss kink? Idk. Tom is tmi at times. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS. 2.5k words

A/N - sweet and domestic dadcest for the tomwamb girlies. Here ya are :)

“Oh hey there,” Tom smiles from the kitchen island, greeting a sleepy you as you pour yourself a bowl of cereal. Lucky Charms, always. That never changes. You join Tom where he sits and scoot your barstool closer to him, then rest your head against his bicep, sighing softly as you watch him scroll through the news on his iPad. Tom kisses your forehead, “Good morning, sunshine,” and sips on his coffee. 

“Morning, Daddy.” 

You sound tired, Tom thinks. But more than that - low energy, a little under the weather. He’s very attuned to these things, being your father. You have your moods here and there, sure, but this isn’t it. Tom knows this in the way you snuggle up to him, and how you ignore your breakfast. He scratches your scalp delicately. 

“Hey, how about I make you something real to eat, hm? Cereal, you know - really more of a snack, huh? C’mon, how about some eggs, maybe some hash browns?” You shake your head, mumbling no thank you, Daddy. “How about just a little, honey. I don’t want you eating just sugar.”

You shrug noncommittally, pushing your bowl away to tell your dad that you’re not even really hungry for that. You didn’t realize until the food was in front of you how unappetizing it actually is. In fact, you think you’d puke if you ate even just a bite. 

Tom frowns and looks down at you, then takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You feelin’ okay, sweetheart?” he asks, turning you from side to side. He’s so protective and concerned, holding the back of his hand against your forehead and your cheeks to measure your temperature. “Sick, maybe? Oh, I know. Are you on your–”

“Dad, please.” 

“Just asking.” Tom smiles with his lips pressed together, and he chuckles through his nose. “Uh huh, I know. Your dad’s like, so embarrassing,” he jokes, exaggerating his tone, but his face falls when he sees he’s unable to tease even the smallest of giggles out of you. You just close your eyes, then rest your face in the palm of his hand. “What’s going on with you?”   

“Just a little headache,” you answer, allowing yourself to pause for a moment in Dad’s large hand. His hand is warm and weathered, wrinkly. It’s the same loving hand you held when you learned to walk, the loving hand that never once hit you or spanked you when you were a child. With Tom, all you’ve ever known is love.

“Well, shit. I’m sorry, kiddo.” 

“It’s okay.”  

The moment ends when you wrap your hand around Dad’s wrist and pull his away from your face, then slide off your stool to throw away your uneaten cereal. Tom takes the bowl from you instead, then nudges you toward the living room with a hand on your lower back. “You’re gonna take it easy today then, I’m guessing? Wanna lay low with me? Hm?” 

“I have to go clean my room and bathroom. Been putting it off,” you reply, heading for the other direction instead. 

“You sure? Because I can do it for you, you know. In the case it absolutely has to get done today. I really don’t - don’t think all those chemicals are gonna help,” he laughs, hoping you’ll be persuaded by his argument. Tom frowns when you kiss him on the cheek, headed toward your room despite his offer.

Your headache will pass, surely. Besides - your messes are probably contributing to it. If you get this off your plate, you’ll feel better. 

But the ache only worsens. Your head pounds as you vacuum your floors, and there’s a horrible pain right between your eyebrows when you spray disinfectant on your shower walls and bathroom sink. Inhaling all those harsh, citrus-scented chemicals. It’d probably help if you cracked a window. At least, that’s what your dad would tell you. And he’d be right.

You strip your bed and toss your sheets into the washer with a capful of detergent, then head back into the hallway to cross off more items on your agenda. You could do a little organizing, maybe. Get rid of some clothes you’ve been meaning to toss. And studying, you remember - you have to catch up on some studying. You walk while listing it all off in your head, accidentally bumping into Tom. You hadn’t even realized he was there. 

“Woah, there. Watch where you’re walking,” Tom laughs, putting both of his hands on your shoulders. “How’s that headache, kiddo?”

“Mm. Still there,” you tell him. 

Tom clicks his tongue, then pushes some hair out of your face. “Why don’t you come take a nap with me,” he urges, voice gentle. He’s disappointed when you shake your head and mumble something about having some studying to catch up on. You hug him tightly and he inhales the top of your head, and then you slide past him. 

Tom gives you about forty-five minutes at the dinner table to study, but he doesn’t like this. You’re probably not studying very well or retaining much information with an achy head like that. After forty-five minutes is up, Tom approaches you from behind, looking at your mess of paper and books and your laptop with its brightness too high. You’re slouched, eyes rimmed with red as you look at the screen, then scribble something down. 

He places both of his palms on your shoulders and pulls you back, fixing your posture. You stretch against him, head resting against his warm, soft belly. “Ohh, biiiig stretch,” Tom says as he takes your arms and pulls them back to help you along. “Head still hurting, honey?”

“Yep.” 

And that’s Tom’s last straw. “Okay,” he says, leaning over you to shut your laptop. “Oooohhkay.” 

“Dad!”

“Brain break. Let’s give your noggin a rest, huh?” Tom uses your papers to mark your place in your book, then shuts those, too. 

“But I really have to–”

“Uh huh, yep. I know, honey. Ten minutes,” Tom says. “Can you give your old man ten minutes?”

“Okay,” you concede. “But ten minutes only.” 

“Mhm, you bet.” Gently, Tom eases you out of your chair and shuffles you toward the living room. Tom lays you on the large sectional couch, then takes his place right next to you. Before he settles, though, he drapes an oversized plush blanket over both of yourselves. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you into his side. You wrap your arm around his middle and bury your face into his chest, inhaling deeply his warm, nostalgic scent. The deodorant he’s been wearing longer than you’ve been alive, and that clean and musky smell of his cologne. 

Tom lets out a breath when your muscles relax and you sigh, melting into his strong and soft body. He gives you a squeeze, then tugs your shirt up. He rakes his fingers up and down the bare skin of your back, soothing you into relaxation. It’s not hard when the volume on the TV is barely audible, jumbled soft voices lulling you off. And what with that rainy weather outside, well. Tom guesses you’re not long for this world. 

You throw your leg over his body, thigh resting on his crotch. You adjust a couple of times, accidentally arousing Tom. He lets out a soft groan when it happens, cock growing half-hard beneath you. Besides that, he ignores it. 

But you can’t. You move your leg out of the way and eye his growing arousal, then tilt your face up to look at Tom, wordlessly asking if he’d like you to give him a hand with it. 

Tom smiles sweetly and shakes his head. “Honey, honey. No. I don’t want to worry about it, okay?” 

“But–”

“It’s fine, kiddo. Daddy’ll be alright. Just come lay with me.” 

Tom presses your head back against his chest then pats you twice on the back, urging you to relax with him. And while he’s content to ignore his erection, you’re not. 

You’re not sure what it is, honestly. Dad never pressures you into sex or urges you to take care of his needs. Really, he’s more interested in taking care of your own needs. But looking at his bulge, you can’t shake the feeling, the need - you want him inside you, telling you what a good girl you are, and how he loves you so much. 

Tom looks confused as you sit up and peel the blanket off his body. You’re quicker than he can speak, undoing his pants and pulling out his thick, lengthy cock. You wrap your hand around the base, and his pubic hair is slightly more grown out than usual, more gray than ever. You settle between his thick thighs, eliciting groans from him as you kiss over his veiny shaft. You swirl your tongue around his head next, then take him into your mouth.

“Honey, honey, honey. N - your head, sweetie. You really shouldn’t be - ohhkay…” Tom trails off as you sink lower, hollowing your cheeks around him. You bring your head back up, pulling off of him with a pop, then take him back into your mouth, as far down as you can. 

Tom fills your mouth entirely, cockhead hitting the back of your throat repeatedly as you bob up and down on his length. He groans your name so sweetly, with such love and adoration, then tangles his fingers in your hair. He scratches at your scalp, humming with his gorgeous blue eyes shut as you pleasure him. 

All of the noises he makes and the way his cock twitches in your mouth sends excitement running through your veins and makes you clench around nothing. Without a word, you pull off of Tom and slide your pants and panties off, then straddle his legs. 

“Hon, hon–” You reach down and line the head of his cock up with your entrance, then sink down, all that thick, hard length filling you so deeply. The snug fit makes you wince in pain, and pause for a moment to adjust. Tom tsks, “Okay, well - that’s why you’re supposed to let me warm you up, honey. You okay? You gonna be alright?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut. You do a little rock of your hips to get used to the intrusion, but as the pain between your thighs dissipates, the ache in your head is renewed. 

Tom can see this. You’re a stubborn girl, too independent for your own good. And so eager to please, as well as being a daddy’s girl to match… Tom clicks his tongue and sighs. “Alright, alright, okay. Come down here. C’mon, princess.” He sits up and wraps his strong arms around your body, then pulls you tight against his chest. “Let’s take it easy.” 

Tom rolls his hips, finding exactly the rhythm and pace that has the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot and hitting against your cervix. He rocks into you you nice and deeply, hoping a thorough fucking will knock you out. He chuckles to himself - his libido was about the same when he was your age. 

You roll your hips to match, moaning into Tom’s ear. “Careful, honey,” he warns, holding you tight to slow you down. He can tell by the way you move and the sweet noises you make that you’re gonna cum hard, and he anticipates some tears to follow. Sweet girl, so tender when you cum on Dad’s cock. 

Grinding into his pubic bone pushes you further towards release. You moan into Tom’s warm skin, and he keeps a consistent rhythm as he draws in and out of you. It’s a few more moments of steady fucking, and then there’s that tightening deep in your gut. “Dad, Dad, Dad,” you whimper, and his name turns to incoherent babbling and whimpering as you finally cum, walls rippling around Tom’s generous length. While whispering sweet encouragements and I love you’s, Tom fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm in the process. He loves the way you moan louder when he comes, and the satisfied sigh when he fills you with his warm spend. 

It doesn’t happen this time, though. Tom frowns in concern when he’s met with a whimper of pain instead, and yes, he knows the difference. It’s one of those skills that never leaves you when you’re a parent, differentiating between the noises your baby makes when she’s hungry or upset or just a little fussy. You’re in pain - it’s your head, no doubt about it. 

“Ooh, c’mere, c’mere. Let me see, honey. That was a good one, huh?” Still inside you, Tom sits you both up. He takes your face between his hands and rubs his thumbs into your temples, soothing your ache as best he can, though he knows it’s mostly futile when you cry out. “Gosh, okay. Too good.” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, brows pinched together. Bobbing your head on his cock, rocking with his thrusts, and your intense orgasm made all the pain in your head that much worse. “Daddy,” you sniffle, voice weak and pathetic. 

Tom clicks his tongue. “Oh jeez, honey. This is exactly why - fuck, sweetheart.” He pulls you close and hugs you tight, so sorry you’re aching in this way. He can’t help but feel partially responsible for it, in truth. Tom was always a little on the permissive side with you. To his and your credit, it never seemed to get either of you into much trouble. You were always well behaved, did good in school. Whatever you wanted, you got. Tom should have put his foot down this time. He knew better.

He helps you off of his body, careful not to move you too hard. “C’mon. Let’s go potty, sweetie.” 

“I don’t wanna get up,” you mumble. 

“Uh huh, well, I don’t want you getting a UTI on top of this, so - you know. Go, go on. I’m comin’ with.” 

With his hands on your shoulders, Tom walks you to his bathroom. He rifles through his vanity mirror for his extra strength Tylenol as you sit on the toilet, your head in your hands. “Here,” he says, dropping the pills into your palm. He fills a Dixie cup with water from the sink next, “Drink.” 

You flush the toilet and wash your hands, then hold onto Tom as he walks you back to the couch to nap for real this time. He draws the curtains, then heads to the kitchen to fill your water bottle. Tom brings it back to you, then tells you to drink. Ten big sips, he says. 

“I just had water.” 

“Mhm, yep. And you’re gonna have some more.” 

You don’t argue. Tom joins you on the couch again, taking the same position he lay in before. “We can watch a movie now, Daddy.” 

Tom reaches for the remote and shuts the TV off. “Nope. Think - think ya missed the boat on that one, sweetheart.”

“Just as background noise.”

“You don’t need noise, honey, you need to rest.” Tom shakes his head and puts a finger over your lips when you open your mouth to protest. “Shh, no more talking. Quiet time. C’mere,” he whispers, hushing you. 

Tom alternates between rubbing your back and gently patting your ass, soothing you off to sleep as you listen to the steady drum of his heart beat. Poor kid, he thinks. He kisses your forehead, then pulls you tighter against his body.

Ty for reading 🥰 say hi if you enjoyed, reblog with some nice words, all that good stuff 🩷🩷

[eternalnoonlight]

can i req a quinn hughes x reader where they have been dating for a while and moves into quinn’s apartment

Moving in ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Quinn Hughes x reader

pairing:Quinn Hughes x reader

summary:Quinn asking you to move in with him

warnings:fluff

a/n:fluff, thank you so much for the request!! NOT proofread!!!

It’s late afternoon when you finally arrive to Quinns place. Your bag started to slip off your shoulder, and when the door shut behind you, it knocks your bag off.

Your shoes land next to Quinns. The smell of his cologne lingers in the air, strong, yet calming.

He’s laying in the living room on the couch in sweatpants a t-shirt, scrolling on his phone. When he hears the door click, he perks up instantly.

‘’Hey, love,’’ he says, smiling at you.

There’s something in his voice. Sweet, affectionate, a little softer than usual.

You glance at him when he starts walking towards you. ‘’You okay?’’

He hesitates. Small, but you still catch it.

‘’Yeah,’’ he responds lightly. ‘’Just tried.’’

You don’t push.

Instead, you both walk over the couch with a random movie playing, legs tangled, hands traces shapes. You can feel he’s not in the moment with you.

‘’You’ve been off,’’ you say softly looking up at him.

He sighs. ‘’I know.’’ 

‘’You wanna talk about it?” 

He nods slightly, still not looking at you.

‘’I’ve been thinking about…us,’’ he finally says. ‘’About how you’re always here. I keep thinking about what if you moved in here with me.’’

Your breath catches, you stay quiet.

‘’I didn’t know when the right moment was though.’’

You’re actually surprised he asked. So shocked you still haven’t said anything.

‘’It feels right. I mean you already have like half of your stuff here, anyways,’’ he adds.

You grin, ‘’Quinn..’’

He leans in, placing his forehead against yours. ‘’I really want you here. I want to live with you. In my bed, my table. I want to come home to you everyday.’’

‘’I was hoping you’d ask,’’ you whisper.

His eyes open wider. ‘’Yeah?’’

You nod with a smile. ‘’Yeah.’’

The next week your officially moved in with your clothes in the closet, skincare and makeup in the bathroom, your ridiculously amount of shampoo and conditioner bottles, the pink straightener you’ve had for 3 years sitting on the bathroom counter. 

Quinn wouldn’t want it any other way.

                                 .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

I was gonna post this tomorrow but…

[vettelsvee]

FIRST TAKE, SECOND GLANCE | Charles Leclerc

PART OF ONCE UPON A WISH SERIES ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ 2K FOLLOWERS EVENT ✧ F1 ROYAL AU

⋆ PAIRING: Prince!Charles Leclerc x Driver!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: Since you and Charles have been force to fake a relationship and a future marriage in front of the cameras, you have to fake the best you can. When that's not possible, and all you end up doing is failing, Charles decides to set sort of a date to get to know you better... and have some practice ⋆ WARNINGS: Curse words ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2286 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Second fic of the 2k event! Hope you like it and, if so, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading <3 ↳ LET'S TALK/REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

You didn’t know if the conservatory, despite being far too well hidden in the east wing of the royal palace, was really the best place to try and have what Charles considered a “rehearsal date.”

You crossed your arms and cursed your PR stuff under your breath with every insult possible. Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea for the crown prince of Caelondrose and a Formula 1 driver to not only fake a relationship, but also a future marriage, and stream it to the rest of the kingdoms in Euphion?

Of course, with the luck you had, it had to be you going through this shit.

“This is romantic… right?”

You looked up from the red velvet armchair he was sitting in and met his eyes.

The moment you saw his face, that showed more confusion than confidence, you laughed.

“It’s a damn garden shed, Leclerc,” you replied, crossing your legs.

“It’s a conservatory,” he corrected you. “It’s not the same. If it were a garden shed…”

As he began explaining the differences between the two, you stopped listening. That was the least of your concerns at the moment. Instead, your gaze wandered over the plants that, as you’d heard from the palace staff, had been planted and raised by the queen herself.

“Yeah, whatever you say. One is for plants, and the other is for people trapped into faking a relationship with each other,” you snapped once he finished his impromptu speech.

“You’re not trapped. You’re just contractually obligated to be with me,” Charles said sharply.

“Yeah, that. How comforting. Thanks.”

“Do you really think it comforts me? Because, contrary to what you might believe, not at all.”

You chose to ignore Charles because you knew where this could lead to a fight, like most of the ones that had happened in just the three weeks since this little charade for the sake of your reputations had started. 

Silence fell between you both, so you took the opportunity to look at your boyfriend from head to toe. 

That day he didn’t seem to decide to wear that ridiculous jacket full of buttons and medals. Instead, it was just a white shirt with the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black trousers.

You scoffed.

What pissed you off most about him was that he was pretty attractive,and the only thing you were aspiring to with him was starring in some kind of reality show where not only the kingdom but the whole world could watch how much you loved each other and what a perfect future queen you would make.

You, a future queen… Not even in your dreams.

“Does our PR teams really believe this is going to work? A date in a garden shed?”

“First of all, it’s a conservatory, not a garden shed,” Charles replied, sitting up straighter. “Second: yes, of course it’s going to work because we have to make it work. This is our eighth date, and by now we’re supposed to know how to show to the world that we have chemistry.”

“Bullshit. Do we even have chemistry?” you asked sarcastically.

“Not exactly that, but I think we have something.”

“From my side, it’s disgust and anger at this whole damn show, but I don’t know what your take is.”

“If I’m honest, I just feel tension.”

Now Charles was staring directly at you. Your cheeks burned, and you didn’t even know why.

You shook your head, unable to believe the situation you, your parties, and your dazzling personality had landed yourselves in.

“I can’t believe I’m here pretending to be in a relationship and a future marriage with the prince of Caelondrose… And even worse: that we’re doing it for the show. If I’d wanted to be an actress, I would’ve gone to drama school, not karting when I was five,” you snapped. “And I can’t even talk about Formula 1 with you…”

“I watch Formula 1, you know?” he shot back. “If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have gone to the party where we got drunk and fucked and, therefore, we wouldn’t be here now.”

The smirk he gave you was infuriating. If he weren’t a prince and you weren’t in this situation, you’d have already sued him for defamation and slapped him with a restraining order just to keep him away.

“You’re an asshole,” you spat, though deep down, you knew he had a point.

“And yet you still agreed to this.”

You hated what he made you feel. You were smiling now. He noticed and counted it as a small victory, which made him smile timidly.

“So, His Royal Highness Prince Charles Leclerc of Caelondrose, why did you decide on the greenhouse for our eighth fake date?”

Charles shrugged and, for the first time in all this time, he seemed to look vulnerable.

You couldn’t help but feel a little, just a little, sorry for him.

“There are no cameras here. I thought it might help us practice without pressure, you know…”

“Practice exactly ehat, Leclerc?”

Your question seemed to make him even more nervous. He swallowed hard, clearly trying to find the right words so you wouldn’t bolt.

“The way we talk to each other, and with each other… How we touch... Overall, acting like we really care about each other...”

“Do you care?” you asked, uncertain.

“If I’m being honest, I’m trying my best to.”

You didn’t know how to answer to that. 

Deep down, although it was hard for you to admit it, you felt the same way as him.

“I thought we could try something,” Charles said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, now a bit closer to you.

“Like what?”

“Imagine that this is real,” he gestured between you. “Just for 60 seconds pretend that you actually want to be here with me.”

“Is this a game you just came up with, or did PR tell you to do this?” you raised an eyebrow.

“It was my idea,” he admitted. “And more than calling it a game, I’d rather call it a rehearsal.”

Of course. You huffed.

“Fine, whatever you say.”

You sat up straighter as you noticed Charles dragging his chair closer, until he was right in front of you, your legs touching.

You leaned in a bit more, opening your legs so that his, still closed, ended up between yours. You extended your hand, offering him a smile like the ones you were already more than used to faking for the press.

“Hi.”

Charles blinked, clearly caught off guard by your sudden shift in attitude and more importantly, your commitment to his rehearsal.

“How was your day, love?” you asked in the sweetest voice you could use, lowering your tone and adding a playful touch.

“Productive, though a little exhausting, to be honest,” he replied, far more gently than usual. “I had a meeting about the new forest protection policy that King Sebastian of Grendwalt proposed for all of the kingdoms Euphion. You know how he is. Then, I had to smile at elderly ladies for two hours straight at the grand opening of the aquagym pool.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that last part, and your laughter made him chuckle, too.

“And what about yours?”

“I woke up at five in the morning. Gym. Simulator. Team meeting. Argument with my race engineer about strategy for the next race. Oh, and Carlos asked why I hadn’t told him we’d been dating for so long and then, suddenly announced our engagement alongside an streaming reality show.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I had no idea why he ever thought he could date me when I was already completely in love with you.”

Charles let out a laugh, and you mimicked him.

“So… the usual, huh?”

“Of course, love,” you repeated, making him shiver.

“Do you always talk this much on real dates?”

“And you? Are you always this cautious with the girls you go out with? Or are they all PR too?” you countered, trying to see where he was taking the conversation.

“You talk like you haven’t been on a real date in years.”

Charles said this with a growing smile, playing along. He took your hands in his, and it wasn’t the touch that surprised you, it was how familiar it felt.

Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just PR.

“My life is solely and entirely dedicated to driving,” you replied. “Why am I supposed to waste time going on dates with guys who only see me as someone to occasionally fuck with?”

“Maybe it’d be worth it if you gave that time to the right person.”

You didn’t answer. Neither did he.

You leaned in a little more, still seated, and your foreheads touched just as he began tracing shapes on your hands with his fingers.

You looked at him without fear, and Charles didn’t look away.

“What are we doing?” you asked softly, curious and confused, all at the same time.

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that, right now, I’m not pretending we’re a thing.”

“That’s not fair, Charles.”

He knew what you meant. No further explanation was needed.

“I know.”

His hand moved up to your face, gently brushing your cheek.

To his surprise and yours, you didn’t pull away.

“I won’t lie to you: I still hate you, though, with total honesty, a bit less than before,” you whispered. “When we started all this, you were an arrogant asshole and a PR nightmare who thought he was entitled to everything. And don’t take offense to that last part: this is coming from someone who is definitely a nightmare for her own PR.”

“You told me you’d rather prefer Ferrari dropping you and ending up on a trash team than date me,” he murmured, countering, just a bit.

“And I still have the same opinion. I hate being told what to do at every moment. I hate being told how to act to be liked by others. What’s the point of being someone’s role model if you can’t even be yourself?”

Charles swallowed hard. The contact between your hands broke; he sat up straighter, pushing his chair back and standing. For some reason, you followed his lead.

“Can we try something?” he asked, changing the subject.

“What?”

“A kiss,” he said boldly. “Just one. You know… for the cameras.”

“There are no cameras, Charles…”

“Then let’s make it for us.”

You looked at him.

His stance was careful, but still relaxed. His eyes were shining more than they had since this whole thing started. You got the feeling he was really doing this for you, trying to make this nightmare a bit more bearable, easier to live through, and not more compromising than it already was.

And all of it… All of this was his entirely fault.

You decided to let go of all those intrusive, hateful thoughts, toward Charles and your fake relationship and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, warm, and somewhat tentative kiss.

You never thought you’d want to kiss a prince like the girls back in school or the driver academy did, but now… you understood them.

You wanted Charles. You desired Charles.

A lot.

The kiss wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t rushed either. Your hands went to his cheeks, toying with the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to you; Charles’ hands were on your waist, tracing it, touching your body in a way completely different from the night you had sex.

The moment you pulled away, you regretted doing so.

You let out a soft sigh, still filled with the sensation of his touch.

“You call that practice?” you looked at him intently, quite confused by what had just happened.

“Well… I don’t think it is, honestly.”

Instinctively, your body made you step away from him abruptly, brushing off the team hoodie you were wearing. You knew it was a defense mechanism to avoid showing vulnerability in front of him, something you had been doing more than you’d like during this entire date.

“Alright, that’s it. Great… Yep, great.”

Charles followed you and gently took your hand.

“Are you running away?” he asked, saddened.

“No, no…” 

Shit. You weren’t good at lying. Of course you were running away from him.

 “I’m just… trying to process this. That’s all.”

“Did you like it?”

“More than I want to admit,” you confessed.

Charles stepped closer to you.

“You can admit it, sweetheart. After all, we’re dating.”

“Pretending we’re dating, actually,” you corrected him, poking his chest.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re unbearable,” you shot back.

Charles took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You didn’t say anything, not even when you left the greenhouse and began walking into the palace, fully aware that you were headed toward your shared room.

“You realize this is going to get complicated, right?” you broke the silence quietly, resting your head on his arm as you walked.

“It already is, love…”

You nodded. You looked down at your still-intertwined hands.

“Do you think we should go on another date?” Charles asked, uncertain.

You looked into his eyes.

And this time, for the first time in your fake relationship, you nodded sincerely, though deep down you knew you should’ve said the opposite.

Because if there was one reason you were doing this, besides protecting your reputation and your future in Formula 1, it was to help start the rebellion. 

And the truth was that, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, falling in love with Charles Leclerc was never part of the plan.

[sydwritess]

What in the...

Kimi Antonelli x fem!reader

Summary: You and Toto, your boss, have always been close. Seeing how you worked for F1 and he is more like family, considering your dad and Toto's friendship. Kimi knew about this. But what he didn't know, is the amount of jokes you and Toto pull on each other.

Second Person POV

You and Kimi got together soon after Toto hired you for F1, a couple of months ago.

Toto hired you, obviously for your work ethic, but your also considered family. Him and your dad have a long lasting friendship, so you weren't completely alone in this job.

You were sitting with Kimi in his drivers room as he had just gotten done with a race today.

"You excited for your meeting tonight?" You ask, grabbing his hand.

"No. I really want to go to the hotel and sleep." He says, letting out a slight laugh.

"I get that. Maybe you could put some sunglasses on and pretend to pay attention." You smirk.

"I think Toto would kill me." He laughs.

"Not if you come to me first. He'll get beat up." You say giggling.

"I know, I did not expect you two to seem so close. You guys are nothing alike."

"Yeah. You can thank my dad for that." You laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah. They've been best friends for years. It's crazy."

"That's interesting. Is that how you got the job?"

"No. My dad recommended me, but I did the interview and all my articles are from me." You say. He nods his head. There was a silence between us for a while, the clock ticking slowly on the wall.

"Um, I'm going to go see if everything is set up for tomorrow. Do you want to come?" He asked, standing up from the couch.

"No I'm okay. I have a lot of writing to catch up on. We can meet up after work though." You say, standing after him.

"That's okay. We can, just meet me outside or, where ever." He said. We both walk into the hallway.

"Whatever works. I'll see you after." You say. You both walk your separate ways.

You walk into the paddock, walking through the crowds of people. You were looking at some of the shops they had set up, and the food shops they had. You decide to walk over to a small coffee stand, getting your self something to drink.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The women says.

"Hi, uh- what's your best recommendation from here." You ask.

"Are you looking for something in particular like coffee, something with fruit in it?"

"Let's go with fruit. Sorry I've never been here before." You say.

"It's no problem. I can recommend the strawberry lemonade refresher or the summer berry lemonade refresher." She says politely.

"Hmm, let's go with the strawberry lemonade." You say.

"Perfect, I'll make that right up." She says, nodding her head before turning to make the drink.

"Here you go. That'll 4.50." She says, handing you the drink.

"I'll get that." A voice behind you says. Before you could turn around, you see Toto next to you, handing the lady his card.

"Your all set."

"Thanks." You say. You both walk away form the counter, walking around the paddock still.

"Didn't expect you to be here still." He said.

"Yeah, well, it's my job... that's what I'm here for." You say. You hear him laugh lowly.

"Are you coming to the meeting later?" He asked.

"No. Got important stuff to type."

"Like what?"

"Um... hm... what if I talk about Christian and his new girlfriend." You say.

"Y/n."

"Relax. It's a joke." You say, pausing your words.

"Maybe I'll talk about how George called you 63 instead of 53. But in his defense, you are getting up there. Hard to tell." You say.

"Funny." He said, a smile forming on his face.

"I'm not funny. I take my job very seriously." You say, giving him a strict look.

"Right. Cause that's the y/n y/l/n I hired." He said.

"Why, of course, I'm just the coolest." You say. You both walked sound in silence for a moment. Walking through the crowds of people.

"Do you want to help me prank Kimi during the meeting?" You suggest suddenly.

"What would that include?" He asked.

"You can just go along with what I do. But you know how we always do like fake arguments?" You ask. He nods.

"We need to do that! Something that makes him be like: oh shit she's getting fired. Type deal." You say.

"I can do that." He says.

"And... maybe give him to me for a day. He's just overworked with not enough pay on the table. And missing his dear... lonely girlfriend." You say, pointing to yourself.

"I can work something out. I suppose. But this race is important this weekend."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You say.

"Oh yeah." You pause. "Next time... if he crashes anywhere. Try to smile in a comforting way because all of... that." You say pointing to him. "You got going on there, makes him think your mad at him every time he crashes." You day.

"Well, I have the most perfect facial expressions, but okay. I will try?" He says.

"Deal." You say, stretching your hand out to shake his.

"Really?" He asks, looking down at your hand. You nod. He quickly shakes your hand and you both continue walking, eventually walking back to the garage.

"You know..." You say slowly. "Kimi is looking extra cute today." You smirk.

"Excuse me?" Toto says, snapping his head towards you.

"Yeah. Like... really good." You say.

"Okay, that's enough of that. I need to go. Are you coming in the meeting still?" He asked.

"Yeah, halfway through. Remember our plan." You say. He nods and walks away.

You decide to go into the back of the garage, sitting down on the counter back there and scrolling through your phone.

You look at the time, 5:30. The meeting at just started. Multiple teams were supposed to be there.

"Hi y/n." A voice says in front of you. You look up to see Valtteri standing there.

"Hey."

"Are you going to the meeting today?" He asks, taking his gloves off, and throwing them on the counter.

"Yeah, in a bit." You smirk.

"Now that." He points to you. "That's an evil looks." He says, smiling.

"I know. Pranking Kimi today." You say.

"Right, well have fun with that." He says, walking back out of the garage.

You wait around ten minutes before making your way to the room where the meeting was held.

You see everybody in there through the glass window. Kimi, George, Max, Lando, Oscar, Charles, Lewis, Toto, Christian, Zak, and Fred in there, sitting down. Toto at the head of the table.

You slip right into the room, capturing some attention. You head right over to the freezer that's in the corner of the room and grab an ice cream, specifically a Klondike Bar.

"Um y/n, what do you think you are doing?" Toto asks, you looking over to see him leaning on the table, fists balled up like he was already pissed off.

"Uh grabbing ice cream, it's hot as fuck out." You say, you hear small gasps run along the room.

"Those are for the team. Not you." He says, crossing his arms.

"Well, I'm part of the team now. Your the one who hired me." You say, taking a bite of your ice cream.

"Yes, but this a professional meeting. And those are for the team.:

"And I am a part of the team. And let me just tell you." You say, swallowing your food. "It's fucking hot out." You say.

Everybody's eyes widened at he scene. The tension was thick. The silence was loud.

"You need to stop being such a dick y/n." Toto said, pointing to you.

"And you need to stop thinking with your dick Toto." You say louder.

Everybody's jaw's dropped. Especially Kimi's. The room was silent still.

Nobody moved.

Nobody even breathed.

You look over at Kimi slightly. You and Toto suddenly burst out laughing. Your stomach hurting from it.

"What the hell?" George says.

"That was a good one." Toto says, pointing at you while he's laughing.

"What you said, was good." you laughed, pointing back at him.

"What in the world just happened?" Max asked.

"They do this all the time." Kimi says, waving it off.

"Jesus. I thought she was about to get fired." Lando said.

"Mind handing me one of those?" Toto asks you. He sit's back down at Christian stands up.

You walk back over to Toto, who has his hand out. You go to pull it down in his hand, but you snatch it away before he grabs it.

You read the package.

"What would you do for a... Klondike bar?" You ask. He grabs it out of your hand and you go sit down next to Kimi.

"you can't even read it properly." Toto says.

"I may not know how to read, but at least I didn't get mistaken for the age of 63." You say, looking at him.

You see George chuckle to himself.

"Do I seriously look that old?" He asks.

"Yes." You, and the whole table say at once.

"That's rude." Toto mumbles.

"Just the truth." Christian says.

"Hey Christian." You say, leaning on the table.

"Can I write my next article about you?" You ask.

"Sur-"

"No! Y/n. No." Toto says.

"What? I'm trying to open up my horizon. You know. Getting to see what's it's like on the track, why not off?" You say.

"No." Toto repeats.

"You wanna skip?" You whisper to Kimi.

"Can't he's got us stuck here." He whispers back.

You stand up and grab his hand, pulling him up out of his chair.

"Alright. were going to go."

"No-" Toto says.

"Text him the details of whatever this is." You say pointing at them, walking to the door, and walking out of the room.

"See? you just have to stick up for yourself." You say, grabbing Kimi's hand.

"You might get me fired." He says.

"Your not going to get fired." You say, walking down the hall and into his drivers room.

You both plop down on the couch in there and sit in silence.

"You know. I thought you were going to get fired today." He said, looking over at you.

"We planned it." You say, smirking. He laughs.

"Of course you did." He said, smiling.

"And, after this race. You officially have the week off. No meeting's. No anything." You say.

"What? How did you pull that off?" He asks suddenly.

"I talked to Toto. Saying how your dear girlfriend misses you." You say, putting your head on his shoulder.

"Ohh, right, right. Thank you." He says, kissing the top of your forehead.

You link your hands together and sit int he quiet room, enjoying each other's company from today. Just the two of you together.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! Comment to be added to the tag list!

[wonio]

pretend ‎ ‎ ‎ ﹔ ‎ ‎ ‎simjaeyun

fem! reader ‎‎ ‎ ✴︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ fluff fake dating friends2lovers wc around 1.2k

"you don't have to hold my hand when no one's looking" you say it without looking at him, voice quiet, but jake hears it anyway. he doesn't let go. "i know," he says, like it means something else. like he knows exactly what he's doing. and maybe that's what messed with your head the most. how he's too good at this, how his hand never leaves yours, how he remembers your coffee order and always makes sure you're walking on the inside of the street, how he stares a little too long when you're not even dressed up, and say things like "you're really pretty, you know that?" you don't know if he's acting or not. you don't know if you want him to be. because it was supposed to be simple⎯help him get over someone else, pretend to be together for a while, laugh it off when it's done. no feelings, no confusion. but then it's his hoodie that you wear when you're cold. it's his fingers brushing hair out of your face. it's him whispering, "you okay?" at that party when you looked overwhelmed. you wish he didn't look so sincere all the time. like he really sees you. you're in his car now. parked somewhere quiet, with the windows fogged up from how long you've been sitting in silence. the city hums outside. his playlist plays low. and still, neither of you says anything.

he glances over. "you ever forget we're faking it?" you freeze. you don't answer. you don't have to. because when you look at him, he's already look at you⎯smile faint, eyes soft in that stupid, ruin⎯you kind of way. "i do," he says, like it's a confession that's been weighing on him. and it knocks the air right of you. not the words⎯but the way he says them. like they're the truth. your heart's loud in your ears. and then he looks away. hand still holding yours. "sorry." you should let go. you should say something that makes this easier. makes it safe again. but you don't. you squeeze his hand instead. it's quiet again. then⎯ "can i kiss you?" you blink. you turn, slow. the question just.... hangs there. between you and him. he's serious. a little nervous. your voice is small. "why?" his eyes flick to your lips. then back to your eyes. "because i want to." you pull your hand back. not because you're upset, but because you need space to think. to breathe. to not feel dizzy with the way he's looking at you. "jake.." you pause. "we're not even dating." he swallows. "i know." you glance at your lap. "so if we kiss.. what does it mean?" he doesn't answer right away. you think maybe he'll drop it. maybe this will stay in that weird in-between space where no one has to admit anything. but then he exhales. slow and honest. "i like you," he says, "i think i've liked you since before all this. and this is not pretend anymore. not for me." you blink. once. twice. "then why didn't you say anything?" he lets our a soft, almost-laugh. "because you still think this was about my ex. but the only person i've ever wanted to look at me like you do... is you." silence. then, your voice, quiet but steady. "you can kiss me now." he leans in⎯careful, slower than you expect. like he's giving you time to stop him. but you don't. not when his hands finds yours again. not when his lips brush yours, soft and steady, like a promise he means to keep. and for the first time, it doesn't feel complicated. it doesn't feel fake. just jake, just you. and maybe that's all it ever needed to be. by wonio | ‎ ‎ ‎ can anyone guess what inspired this :P had this sitting in my drafts for forever

[jedi-luca]

Head Over Feet: Chapter Five Sparks

Summary: You didn’t know Dina before she came back to Jackson. She’s guarded, jaded, and carrying the weight of too many goodbyes. Now you can’t stop thinking about her. It’s a slow burn, and you’re patient… but will she ever let down her walls? Or will someone else reach your heart first?

Pairings: Dina x GN!Reader slowburn

warnings: spoilers if you haven’t played the game or seen the show

Previous

You hardly slept tossing and turning until you finally got fed up and went right back to the garage. You had the back casing off the old motorcycle in seconds, fingers slick with oil, the early light pouring in. It was quiet just the low hum of the town waking up and the occasional clink of your tools echoing inside the shed.

You didn’t get to dance with Dina, and if you were honest she was the only woman you wanted to dance with. And now? Now you were trying not to think about it. About the feeling of having her in your arms. Wondering if maybe you would have kissed her again. Would the ending have been different? You rolled your eyes at yourself for being naive. Of course the ending wouldn’t have been different she’s made that clear over and over.

“Guess who brought caffeine and breakfast?” Cam’s voice chimed in from the doorway. She held out a tin mug and a breakfast sandwich.

“Thank you.” You gave her a half-smile, wiping your hands on a rag before taking it.

“Julie is waking up Charlie now.”

You nod eating unaware of how hungry you were.

“The ladies are still talking about how good you looked at the dance by the way.” she added casually as you ate.

“Didn’t feel like it.” You chuckle scarfing down the last bit.

“Damn you scarfed that down like you hadn’t eaten in days.” Can laughed.

“Your wife makes the best food.”

Cam was about to respond when the familiar sound of JJ’s laughter cut through the quiet. You both turned your heads just as he came running around the corner, his stubby arms stretched out in front of him. “Y/N!” He giggled as he ran to you. Dina followed a beat later.

She paused when she saw you and Cam together. Her face did a strange little shift quickly blank, then too neutral.

“Hey,” you said, standing up straighter. You instinctively wiped your hands again, as if the oil on your fingers might undo you.

JJ crashed into your legs with a joyful squeal and you bent to scoop him up. “Hey buddy.”

“Sorry,” Dina said, walking the last few steps. “He saw you from down the path. Made a break for it.”

“No worries,” you said, bouncing JJ gently on your hip. “He’s always welcome. I’m working on a motorcycle. Can you say motorcycle?”

“Mor-mor-cycle.” JJ squealed.

“That’s right, little man.” You say sitting him on the seat holding him as he reaches for the bars.

Dina’s eyes flicked from you and her son to Cam.

Cam offered a small, tight smile. “Cam. Y/N’s best friend.”

Dina nodded. “Dina.”

There was a quiet pause before Cam added, a bit too pointedly, “Really thought you two would dance instead of around each other.”

Dina’s expression didn’t waver. “Seems my dance went to Natalie.”

You looked at her then really looked. There was something soft in her eyes, something weighed down and unspoken. But she said nothing more.

Cam took a long sip from her mug, breaking the silence. “Anyway, I should check in with the kids before they cause some trouble.”

She clapped your shoulder once and disappeared.

Now it was just the three of you as you set JJ down to play with his truck.

You scratched the back of your neck, suddenly painfully aware of every breath.

She glanced down at JJ, smoothing a hand over his curls. “You looked like you were having a good time. Natalie seemed…friendly.”

You smiled, small and tired. “She was.”

A beat.

“I would have said yes you know… I didn’t dance with anyone when you left.” Dina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart tightened. “Guess we missed our shot.”

She didn’t say anything else. Just looked down at her boots, then back up at you with a familiar kind of ache in her eyes.

“Y/N.” JJ reached for you again.

“Wanna help me fix this bike?” You grin at JJ before crouching down.

“This is a socket wrench.”

“Soc inch.” JJ nodded.

Dina smiled as she perched on the edge of your workbench, shaking her head softly at herself. She couldn’t believe it. No matter what you were doing, you somehow managed to look like a damn heartthrob.

Whether it was the way you moved with quiet focus while fixing something, the calm precision you carried when taking down an infected, or her favorite the gentle way you were with her son and Charlie. It wasn’t just charm. It was something steady, something real. And it got to her every time.

“Mama see!” JJ gasped as he helped you fix the engine.

“I see you’re so handy!”

“Y/N!” He cheered.

Dina watched for a little while longer as you taught JJ the words for different tools and what you were doing with each tool. JJ looked at you so focused on each word. Repeating them as best as he could.

She didn’t realize how long she was watching you both until the sun started getting in her eyes.

“It’s time for me and your little helper to get going,” she murmured walking up next to you.

You nodded, standing up with him in your arms but you didn’t step back.

She didn’t either.

JJ babbled away about different tools as you handed him off to his mother.

God you wanted to kiss her.

You looked away focusing on cleaning JJs hands.

Dina watched and when you finished she leaned up leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. She exhaled, already turning away. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” you said. “See you.” You gulp as she walks away. You look down at the bike when you hear her voice.

“Y/N?” Dina called out by the garage door.

You looked back, brow raised.

“I don’t think we missed our shot.” With that Dina walked away leaving you even more confused.

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Once Dina made it home from the garden she put JJ down for a nap in his bed, his curls matted with sweat, thumb tucked in his mouth.

Dina sat on the couch, her arms wrapped around a throw pillow, staring at nothing. Thinking about how the party had ended, but the hum in her bones hadn’t stopped. She still saw the way you looked that night. Relaxed. Confident. Open in a way she’d never quite earned from you.

Natalie had noticed it too. So had half the room.

Dina could still feel the phantom heat of that almost-night in her kitchen. Your mouth on hers. Your hands on her hips. The way you froze—not from fear but trust. Vulnerability. Something she hadn’t been ready for.

She buried her face in her hands.

Why did it bother her so much to see someone else standing where she’d pushed you away?

She wanted you. She wanted you badly. But she also knew she’d hurt you if she got close and then pulled away again. She didn’t know how to want something and not ruin it.

Dina curled deeper into the couch, jaw clenched, her chest aching in that old, familiar way.

Maybe you do deserve someone like Natalie. Someone who didn’t flinch at softness or keep their past on a leash that snapped when tugged.

But she hated the thought of you finding comfort in someone else’s arms.

And worse she feared you will soon if she doesn’t do something soon.

The next morning, Maria looked up as Dina stepped into her office, her arms folded tight, face unreadable.

“You okay?” Maria asked gently, though she already had a guess.

Dina shrugged, eyes flicking too quickly to your empty desk across the room. “Just stopping in.”

“They’re up on the roof today,” Maria said. “Fixing one of the outer houses.”

“Oh.” Dina’s voice was neutral, but her gaze lingered just a second too long.

Maria tilted her head, watching her. “You know, Y/N could probably use an extra set of hands.”

Dina gave a slow nod. “Great. I’ll head out there now.”

She turned to go, already pulling her jacket tighter.

“Dina?” Maria’s voice stopped her in the doorway.

Dina paused.

“No one would judge you if you were dating. You deserve happiness too, you know.”

For a moment, Dina didn’t say anything. Just a small nod. Then she slipped out the door before the weight of those words could press too hard on her chest.

By the time she reached the house on the edge of town, the sun was already sharp overhead. You were halfway up a ladder, sleeves rolled, tool belt around your hips, sweat glinting at your temple. Dina let herself look really look for just a second before calling up: “Hi.”

You glanced down and grinned, wiping your forehead. “Hey, you.”

“Maria sent me,” Dina spoke, stepping closer. “Thought you might need help.”

“I never say no to help,” you replied easily. “You scared of heights?”

“Not really.”

“Perfect. Come on up.”

You helped her up the ladder and showed her how to replace the cracked tiles, careful to move slow, explaining each step. She listened, nodded, mimicked your movements, her hands steady but heart a little less so.

The work was quiet. A comfortable kind of silence. Dina could almost forget how weird things had been. Almost.

About an hour in, a voice floated up from below.

“Hi, Y/N!”

Dina looked down. Of course it was Natalie, perfect braid, sunglasses pushed to the top of her head, holding a gingham-lined basket like she was auditioning for a picnic commercial.

You waved. “Hey! I’ll be down in a minute!” Then turned to Dina. “Guess it’s break time. Wanna join? I’m sure she brought enough.”

Dina held up her water bottle. “I’m good. Packed my own.”

You gave her a smile. “Alright. Don’t work too hard.” Then you disappeared down the ladder.

Dina didn’t look.

Not really.

Except she did.

And she saw how Natalie spread the blanket under the tree with a little flip of her hair. How she placed her hand a bit too close to your knee. How you smiled anyway.

Her stomach twisted.

Later, after the last tile had been set and the tools packed away, Dina found herself still sitting on the edge of the roof, legs dangling.

You were coiling up the extension cord when she finally spoke.

“Didn’t know you were seeing Natalie.”

You looked over your shoulder. “I’m not.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

You tilted your head, amused. “What made you think that?”

“The dancing the other night. The picnic lunch. The way she touches your arm like it’s a reflex. Don’t get me started on the way she looks at you like a piece of meat.”

You chuckled softly. “She’s just… friendly.”

“She was flirting.”

You paused. “She did talk about her yoga a lot. Something about sweat and hip openers and… flexibility.” You blinked. “Oh.”

Dina smirked. “Yeah. Oh.”

You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Guess I missed the memo.”

“She’s not really your type.”

You looked at her. “And what is my type, exactly?”

Dina faltered for half a second. “Not someone who tries that hard.”

You smiled, slow and searching. “You think I can do better?”

“I know you can.”

There was something soft behind her eyes then—too soft to be casual, too honest to be a joke.

You dropped your gaze with a small, lopsided grin. “I tried.”

She blinked. “What?”

You shrugged. “She’s a good mom. Jack’s a sweet kid. It’s not a big deal.”

“So you’re into moms now?” she teased, a little too quickly, trying to shove down something else rising in her.

You smiled wider. “Not exclusively. But it helps when someone understands the whole kid thing. Most people don’t want to date someone with a child.”

Dina looked down, picking at the frayed edge of her glove. “Jackson’s full of people who’d line up for you.”

You smirked. “Well, not everyone.”

A beat passed.

Then her voice, quieter. “We’re okay… right?”

You looked at her for a long moment, softening. “Dina… if we weren’t, I would’ve found something else for you to do today.”

That made her smile genuine this time.

“Come on,” you added, hopping off the roof and dusting off your hands. “We’re done for today.”

Dina watched you walk toward the cart, sunlight catching the edge of your smile, and followed a few steps behind still unsure of what she wanted, but suddenly afraid she might be too late if she waited much longer.

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“You’re sure this won’t come off desperate?” Dina asked, voice low, almost sheepish.

Kim raised an eyebrow over her coffee cup. “Sweetheart, if it’s coming from your heart, it’s not desperate.”

“She’s right,” Maria added, arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “Y/N’s not the kind of person who wants grand for the sake of grand. You want them to hear you? Then show up. Say something real.”

Dina let out a breath. “I just… I screwed it up so bad. I was scared, and I made them feel like they were a mistake. Like it didn’t matter. But it did. It does. I don’t know how to fix that.”

“You start by showing them they were never just a moment,” Kim said. “They were the choice.”

Dina looked down at the ring box in her hand simple, not flashy, something she’d bartered for after days of asking around and rummaging through abandoned buildings. It wasn’t an engagement ring. Not yet. Just a promise of something more. Something real. A symbol of what she was too scared to say before.

She didn’t know if it would be enough. But she was going to try.

The morning sun pressed down over the valley like a hand on your shoulder. You leaned against the post at the main gate, boot braced on the ledge, fingers drumming softly on the rail. It was quiet one of those still, golden mornings that felt borrowed from before the world changed.

You weren’t holding your breath anymore. Not for her. You’d stopped waiting for the knock at your door, for the lingering glances to mean something. Not because you didn’t care. Just because you couldn’t keep hoping for something she couldn’t give.

Still, when you heard her footsteps behind you, something in your chest shifted gentle, not jarring. Familiar.

“Didn’t know you were on gate duty,” Dina said, her voice soft.

You glanced over your shoulder. “Cam needed the morning off.”

She nodded, hesitating. “I was… actually looking for you.”

You gave a quiet smile, the kind you’d learned to wear around her. “Lucky me.”

That made her smile, too, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She stepped closer. “I, um… I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About… everything.”

You stayed still, not bracing, not backing away. Just listening.

She exhaled. “Back then… when I said I wasn’t ready, that I needed space, I thought I was being honest. But really, I was just scared. Of how much you meant. Of what it would mean to let myself want you out loud.”

You looked at her… truly looked and something in her eyes made your heart ache a little.

She took another step. “I didn’t know how to show up the way you deserved. And I’m sorry for all the times I almost did, and didn’t.”

You said nothing, but your expression softened. She saw it some quiet part of her unfurling in the space you offered.

Dina’s voice dipped lower, steadier now. “I’m not saying this to make things messy again. I just… I need you to know that it wasn’t nothing. That you weren’t just a moment I let go of.”

You blinked. Something warm rose behind your ribs. Your lips parted to say something but then a shout came from the wall.

“Approaching group! Three o’clock!”

You turned instinctively, scanning the tree line.

Dina blinked, then followed your gaze.

Two guards jogged up beside you, binoculars already raised. “Looks like a small group. Coming slow. Holding something up looks like a white flag.”

Dina tensed. “What the hell?”

You squinted.

Your heart hiccupped.

No.

It couldn’t!

But it was!

You dropped your rifle and stepped toward the scope mounted on the wall. One look through and you were already moving, down the stairs, fast.

“Y/N?” Dina called behind you.

But you were already at the gate as the group drew closer, dusty and sun-worn from the road.

Then she stepped into view.

Tall. Blonde braid. Green eyes that hadn’t changed a bit.

Your voice cracked. “Lili?!”

Her head snapped up and her face broke into the brightest smile you’d seen in months.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Y/N Y/L/N?!”

You ran.

So did she.

You collided like no time had passed at all, her arms wrapping tight around your shoulders, your hands gripping her waist. She laughed against your neck, and you closed your eyes, a flood of something too big for words crashing over you.

“I thought you were gone,” you murmured.

“We never got to say goodbye.” she said breathlessly, smiling wide. “I looked for you at every stop.”

Behind you, Dina stood just inside the gate, frozen.

She remembered. Every story. Every soft smile that crossed your face when you’d talked about your first kiss your best friend who vanished with the end of the world.

Now here she was. Real.

Lili’s parents dismounted nearby. “Well, if it isn’t Y/N,” Mr. Cooper said, beaming. “Didn’t expect to see you full-grown and still breathing.”

“You still look just as cute as ever!” Mrs. Cooper added fondly.

Lili grinned, eyes never leaving yours. “We were pretty much inseparable. Might’ve even figured out what that meant if the world hadn’t ended.”

You ducked your head, laughing. Your cheeks warmed. It wasn’t flirty, it was just soft. Familiar.

Dina’s stomach twisted in a knot.

Dina finally stepped forward, clearing her throat. “I’m Dina.”

“Lili,” she replied, extending a hand. Her handshake was calm, firm. Polite.

“We’re just looking for a safe place to rest a few days,” Mr. Cooper added. “We’ll trade for food and shelter, then move on.”

“You’ll need to be vetted. Have any of you been bitten?”

“They’re good people,” you said, already sliding back into the role of vouching. “I trust them.”

“That was before.” Dina shook her head.

“Whatever you need.” Lili nodded.

“We are all clean.” Mr. Cooper nodded.

“We’ll take them to Maria.” Dina nodded.

Then Lili’s gaze found yours again. “If you’re free later… I’d love to catch up.”

You hesitated for only a second. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

The family moved forward toward the gates, the guards checking over their gear.

You walked beside Lili, falling easily into conversation. There was history there years of it. The way you talked had an ease that didn’t need catching up. It was just there. Waiting.

Dina stayed behind at the gate, hands clenched and heart hammering.

Because the rest of her confession the part about love, about regret, about wanting a future never made it out.

And now she was too late.

[jupitersfall]

Come back to bed | L. Matthews oneshot

summary: The others may have pushed lottie away, but you had always stayed. Through the hunger, and the rituals, and everyone else talking about how crazy she was. She appreciated you more than you knew.

She thinks you’re sleeping.

You can feel it in the way she moves. Slow, careful, like she doesn’t want to wake you, or doesn’t want you to know that she’s still awake. She’d been having trouble sleeping lately, plagued with nightmares and visions and you’d always be the one to comfort her. She didn’t like that. Felt like she was a burden, almost. It didn’t help that she could see the toll it was taking on you. The eyebags, and the red in the whites of your eyes.

But she also didn’t realize that you were so worried about her, you couldn’t sleep yourself. All you wanted to do was be there for her. She only needed to let you in.

The mattress of bundled blankets shifts as she sits up. You crack an eye open just enough to watch her silhouette in the dark. She’s pulling on her boots with shaky fingers, the laces knotting unevenly. She doesn’t make a sound, but knowing Lottie is as easy as breathing. There’s tension in her shoulders that only shows up when something’s crawling under her skin.

She stands. Moves toward the cabin door. The floorboards creak and she freezes.

You say her name before she can open it. “…Lottie?”

She turns, startled. Wide eyes find yours through the dark, and she takes a few steps closer to you. “Shit. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” you say, pushing up on one elbow. Your blanket pools around your waist and you shudder a little at the sudden cold. “Where are you going?”

She hesitates like she’s deciding whether to lie. “Just needed some air,” she says finally. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You reach a hand out to her, shifting to sit on your knees. “Hey, c’mere. Lay back down with me.”

She doesn’t answer right away. But then she sighs, soft and tired, and crosses back to you like she knows she doesn’t really want to refuse. Her weight settles beside yours and you lift the blanket over her and pull her close. She curls into you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, arm draping over your waist.

Her hands are cold, they always are. You slide yours under her sleeves to warm her wrists, and she exhales against your collarbone, breath shaking a little.

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

She nods, but the movement is small. She shifts until her forehead rests against yours. Her breath fans over your face in little puffs of air, eyes fluttering closed.

“I just feel… off. Like something’s gonna happen.”

“You’ve been feeling that way a lot lately.”

“I know.” She closes her eyes, grumbling a little. “I hate it.”

Her fingers curl around the hem of your shirt. It’s such a small thing, but she holds on like she needs it, like she needs you.

You don’t talk much when she gets like this. You’ve learned how to exist in silence. Sometimes words just make it worse, bring it too close to the surface. But you rub her back in slow circles, and she presses closer, and eventually her breathing starts to sync with yours.

“I can’t always tell what’s real anymore,” she says suddenly, “Sometimes I think i’m dreaming all of this. Like, I died in the crash and this is a hallucination, or something.”

The wind groans outside, and you both glance out the window to watch the snow fall.

“You didn’t die,” you say a moment later, fingers moving to gently card through her hair, “you’re here.”

She manages a bitter, soft laugh. She looks back up at you then, and you finally notice the tears that threaten to leave her eyes. “I know…just doesn’t feel like it.”

You don’t respond to that. You don’t even know what you’d respond with. So instead you settle for rubbing her back, mumbling a ‘get some sleep.’

She tries to settles beside you, eyes closing and hair gently tickling your temple. Her heartbeat slow a little, just enough to where you know she isn’t upset anymore.

“Love you,” she mumbles to you, “you know that? You’re too good.”

“Yeah,” you replied with a fond smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “yeah, I know. I love you too. Now c’mon, just relax, i’ve got you.”

With that, she lets out a deep, heavy sigh, and it doesn’t take long for her to melt against you, her expression peaceful and no longer bearing that furrow between her brows or the frown of her lips. When you were certain that she wouldn’t wake back up, you pressed a kiss to the scar on her forehead, murmured a ‘love you,’ and then finally, finally tried to get some rest.

[cherrykpawp]

Heat // Ch 10.5

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

Pairings: Mingi x reader

This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, smut, fluff, Calico hybrid!reader, Husky hybrid!Mingi, switch!reader, switch!Mingi, Ruts (Mingi), cunnilingus (f receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex (WRAP IT!), begging, pet names (Princess, Baby), praise kinks, dirty talk, possessiveness, submission, hair pulling, squirt, swearing, biting, love bites, eye contact, scent kink (Mingi), size kink, face sitting, pictures, video recording, somnophilia (consent given i.e chapter 8), 69

Taglist: @m-flowerjunnie-oa, @mrsminseochoi, @strawwff, @sunlight120902, @awkward-fucking-thing, @menialmoonchild, @jjongsho, @chanscase143, @lililiarina, @babyquokkasworld, @rileylovescats

WC: 6.5k

MDNI!!

Today was a lazy day for you—the first in a while. Since the moment you woke up, you’ve been in your room, mindlessly scrolling through YouTube. For some reason, your bed felt extra comfortable, the air was a bit chilly, and the warmth of your blanket didn’t want to let you go. But like any normal person, after hours of lounging in bed, you started to get hungry. You checked the time on your phone and realized it was already 2 p.m., and you hadn’t properly started your day. All you had done since waking up was shower, brush your teeth, and then lie back down.

You left your phone on the bed, yawning as you padded down the hallway and the stairs leading to the living room. San was on the floor, completely absorbed in a game playing on the TV. Not wanting to disturb him—especially since you were feeling a bit starved and craving a hot meal—you shuffled your way to the kitchen, your tail wrapped around your waist for warmth. You scanned the fridge for a snack while mentally planning a lunch that both you and the boys would enjoy.

Yunho had restocked your favorite fruits when he went grocery shopping the other day, but you noticed an unexpected addition—strawberries. You hadn’t seen those in a while. Now you could add some variety to your usual mix.

Gathering some pineapple, melon, grapes, and now strawberries, you brought them over to the counter to make a small fruit salad. As you began preparing the fruit, a list of lunch ideas ran through your head—you were thinking about what everyone liked and didn’t like. Since strawberries weren’t in season, you cut into one to check its ripeness. To your surprise, it was incredibly sweet.

Maybe you’ll share with them.

You must’ve been so deep in thought that you didn’t notice Mingi leaning against the kitchen doorway, quietly watching you go about your day. He had been there since the moment you opened the fridge, gathering your fruit. To him, Yunho’s oversized shirt looked perfect on you, the way it fell just below the hem of your shorts. But it was your scent that really stopped all the gears in his head—he ached to be nestled against your scent gland.

When you finally noticed him, you startled slightly, not expecting anyone to be there. He was wearing his glasses today—probably not in the mood for contacts. A black tank top and gray sweatpants hung comfortably on him, his ears perked high atop his head while his tail swayed steadily behind him.

“Afternoon, Mingi,” you greeted him warmly, continuing to slice strawberries and drop them into the bowl beside you. The taller male mumbled a soft “afternoon” in return, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Did you just wake up?” you asked.

He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No… I’ve been up for a while now.” His voice had dropped a few octaves, sounding deeper—more baritone than usual.

“Strawberries, huh?”

“I know, they’re so sweet. Do you want one?” You held one out to him, but Mingi shook his head, declining the offer. You simply shrugged and placed it into the bowl instead.

He shuffled behind you, towering over you as he rested his palms on either side of you on the counter.

“Comfortable?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. You adored his clinginess. You cuddled with San often because of naps, but the time you spent with Mingi was just as comforting. Even without sleeping, his presence—and the steady rhythm of his heart—always soothed you.

“Mhm,” he hummed, leaning in to breathe in your scent. The need to be close to you clawed at his chest.

It was quiet for a while, the only sounds being the soft chopping of fruit and San’s faint groan of frustration from the living room as he lost his game. Mingi rested his chin on your shoulder, finally settling into the spot he’d wanted to be all along. It didn’t take you long to notice how hot he felt—his body practically burning through your shirt.

You stopped cutting the fruit, reaching behind you with your free hand to feel his face and neck. “You’re burning up,” you murmured, startled by the heat radiating off him.

Mingi chuckled softly, though he probably shouldn’t have been trying to be witty at a time like this. “I know,” he said, gripping the counter a little tighter as he leaned more of his weight into you.

“Are you in rut?” you whispered, your voice low so no one else would hear.

You felt him nod against your shoulder, his forehead settling into the crook of your neck. “I meant to tell you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, “but I kept forgetting.” He let out a soft breath. “I was wondering… if you’d help me.”

“You know I would,” you reassured him without a trace of hesitation. “Let’s go.”

But Mingi didn’t move. Instead, he pressed himself closer to you against the counter. “Can I scent you? Just for a minute?”

You tilted your head to the side, offering more of yourself to him. You couldn’t see it, but his eyes had fluttered shut, lost in a quiet trance. Gently, he moved your hair aside to expose your scent gland, his other hand gripping the counter for control.

You couldn’t focus on cutting fruit anymore—your priority had shifted completely to helping Mingi through his rut. Still, despite knowing it would be better to head to his room, you let him linger, soaking in your pheromones for a little longer.

“Do you need me now?” You checked in with him after standing there quietly for about two minutes.

You felt him shrug against you, “If you’re hungry, I can wait…” his words trailing off, a hint of a whine escaped his lips involuntarily. “However… I don’t mind staying here, close to your scent.”

Mingi’s eyes slowly opened when he felt your tail press against the tent in his pants behind you. Your back was turned to him, and the subtle way you teased him without outright acting on it made him grip the counter even tighter. You could see his fingertips turn white from the effort to hold himself back. He pressed against your backside and tail, slowly grinding into you. Then he began kissing your scent gland, his hands roaming freely over your body.

Keeping your voice low, you spoke in a hushed voice. “Mingi, wait.”

The husky hybrid stopped moving. Instead, he pushed your fruits, bowl, and utensils further down the counter. Then he spun you around to face him, lifting you by your hips and settling you onto the counter so that you were eye-level with him. Mingi positioned himself between your legs, resting on his palms just inches away from your face, listening intently to whatever you had to say next.

“We—aren’t you hungry?”

Mingi nodded, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips. Then he leaned in for a long, passionate kiss, gently pressing you back against the cupboard. Your hands instinctively went to his shoulders, letting him take the lead. Your tongues brushed against each other, drawing a soft whine from Mingi. Kissing was one of your favorite ways to show affection and express your feelings. But you pulled away first, making him chase your lips desperately.

“Do you want some fruit before we start?”

Mingi shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “After tasting the sweetest strawberry there is, everything else tastes sour in comparison.”

His words made you flush, and you cupped your cheek with your hand.

“O-okay,” you stammered, suddenly feeling warm all over.

Seizing the moment, Mingi lifted your shirt and tucked his head beneath the stretchy fabric. You couldn’t see his face except through the collar of your shirt, but you could tell he was still scenting you, nuzzling his face into your torso.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though he didn’t answer, adjusting his face against your neck.

You let him, running your hands down his back to comfort the whining hybrid. Everyone acts differently during their ruts or heats—maybe he was just quieter during his. Mingi’s ears twitched with every touch, and he sighed softly into your skin.

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” Mingi asked from beneath your shirt.

“Because I didn’t feel like wearing one,” you answered honestly. “Why are you under my shirt like this?”

“Scenting. Comfortable,” Mingi mumbled plainly into your neck, accidentally bumping himself against your legs. Even the smallest bit of friction felt amazing. “Easier, too.”

“Mingi, get out of my shirt,” you giggled at his adorable antics. He obeyed, though you could tell he was desperate to get back under already. You gently removed his glasses from his face, setting them on the counter. “At least take these off—you’re going to break them like that.”

Without a word, Mingi lifted your shirt back up, exposing your bare chest to him. He didn’t hesitate to kiss the valley of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your pert bud. You had to stifle a moan, shying away from him as he made out with your nipple. Your hunger for food vanished for now, consumed by something else entirely.

“Let’s go to your room,” you bit down on a moan, feeling him switch nipples. He didn’t budge, as if your words didn’t register. “Mingi, San’s in the other room, and I think Yunho’s here.”

“So?” he shrugged, hiking your shirt up higher on your chest.

“So,” you lightly slapped his chest. “Have some decorum. Let’s go to your room.”

“They’re going to hear us anyway.”

“Mingi.” You said sternly, and his ears instantly went into airplane mode at the tone of your voice.

Mingi lowered your shirt, scooping you up off the counter and into his arms. You hadn’t expected to be carried, but you held onto him tightly, assuming he was taking you to his room. Instead, he veered up the stairs, heading toward your room as San slowly slipped out of sight in the living room.

“Your room is…” you started, but there was no point in stopping him now—he was already halfway up the staircase.

“Want to be surrounded by you,” he murmured, referring to your room filled with your pheromones, eager to drown in your scent.

Mingi plopped you down onto your bed, hovering above your sprawled-out form before diving in to kiss you passionately, now with a hint of hunger. His rut had officially taken hold—he was all over you, driven by instinct and desire. He pushed your shirt up again, cycling between kissing your lips, playing with your nipples, or planting random pecks across any exposed skin. Occasionally, his teeth would graze against your scent gland, sending shivers through you.

When he went for it again, your fingers threaded into his hair, holding him in place.

“You can bite,” you murmured, placing a soft kiss on his temple. “But… can I bite you too?”

“Please,” Mingi whined, licking at your gland in anticipation.

The very tips of his faint canines scratched your skin, searching carefully for the right place to bite. As he lingered there, looking for the perfect spot, you pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, preparing to bite his gland—until you felt his teeth sink into your skin first. Your body melted beneath him, more pliant, obedient, and aching with need. A soft mewl escaped your lips as you stroked the back of his head, comforting him through it. Eventually, he released your neck, pressing gentle kisses over the tender spot to soothe it.

You eased his collar out of the way, spotting his scent gland. Without hesitation, you closed your eyes and bit down.

His pheromones—Egyptian musk and cocoa butter—bled onto your tongue, warm and ghostly, though no blood was drawn. ’So this is why he enjoys it so much’, you thought. The flavor of his scent was rich and grounding, now you didn’t want to let go. But when you heard him whine softly, you eased off, licking the mark you’d left behind.

Now, both of you were fully submerged in that sub headspace, overwhelmed by a need that went deeper than instinct.

“Do me a favor,” Mingi murmured between a long, heated kiss, his lips leaving yours with a tug on your lower lip. He pushed your shirt back up over your chest, then guided on of your hands there. “Hold this.”

You obeyed, casually pinning the fabric above your chest. Your hips moved by themselves, trying to entice him—which was his plan.

He was hungry for something else now. And that something just so happened to be you.

Slipping his fingers beneath the band of your shorts, Mingi tugged them down your legs and tossed them aside onto the bed. You were still wearing your panties, though they were soaked through with your arousal. He began tracing slow, deliberate shapes over your clit through the thin fabric, watching how you reacted. The light pressure had you naturally spreading your legs wider for him, fingers curling tightly into the bunched-up shirt you held above your chest.

Satisfied with your reaction, he proceeded to remove your soaked panties, revealing your slicked pussy in all its glory. Mingi wasted no time; he had a mission, pinning your thighs against your abdomen.

His entire tongue covered your cunt, licking long stripes from bottom up. Mingi swiped his wet muscle across your heat, making smacking noises with his lips. You let out a shaky, echoed exhale, curling your toes as he closed his eyes and ate you out. Mingi could spend the entire day giving you head if it just meant tasting you completely. Ever since San shared his first lap of your essence during your heat, he’s been addicted. Just being enveloped by your pheromones had him folding.

You didn’t want him to remove his lips from you; the way he was eating you out had your hips following wherever they went. Whenever he ate you out, it felt like he was making out with you, his tongue trying to taste every inch of you. With his eyes closed and his attention focused on pleasing you, you felt the urge to take a picture to save this moment for later.

You reached for your phone, gasping as he licked up to your clit several more times. Biting down on your bottom lip, you switched to the camera app, focusing it on him. The stimulation made your hands shaky, and you struggled to press the photo button. When you finally took the shot, you captured a picture of him in the middle of dragging his tongue slowly along your slick pussy.

Except your ringer was off.

Mingi’s ears turned toward the source of the noise, pulling him out of his trance. When his eyes landed on you, you were scrambling to turn your ringer on, not even sure how to do it.

“S-sorry. You just looked… so— I wanted…” Your words jumbled together as you saw Mingi reach for your phone.

He switched to a different setting in the camera app, changing to video mode, and pressed record before handing it back to you.

“Hold it up,” he muttered, adjusting your angle before retreating to his original position between your legs.

Looking at your phone, you saw his eyes burning through the camera lens, almost like he was staring right at you through it. He spread your folds with his fingers, pressing the tip of his tongue against your clit. God, you didn’t know whether to keep your eyes on the phone or him directly; either way, his gaze was dark and intimidating. You moaned and moaned until your throat grew sore. Every time a new gush of slick left your core, it was Mingi’s job to lap up every bit.

He gathered some of your slick on his tongue, raising his head to show the camera the string of his saliva connecting from your core to his mouth. You mimicked the way he swallowed your essence, catching the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple.

He only paused briefly, massaging your bundle of nerves with firm, consistent circles as he kissed along the skin of your vulva and lower abdomen. Your hips jerked gently at the tickling sensation of his lips on your hip bone, biting back a mewl.

You pulled him closer with your legs, wanting his mouth back on you. When you waved your cunt in his face, his lips followed like a magnet, pinning your legs harder against your abdomen. He closed his eyes, poking his tongue into your entrance to reach the main source of your arousal. Your grip weakened, dropping your phone on your chest as you could no longer hold it to keep recording. Mingi noticed how you pulled Yunho’s shirt over your face, stuck in a mantra of his name as you moaned.

Pausing one more time, Mingi picked up the phone to see if it was still recording. He flipped the camera, capturing how glistened your cunt was from the mix of his saliva and your slick. His fingers ran up and down your labia, teasing your entrance by nudging the tips of fingers inside. He wanted to finger you, but he also tried to get you off with his tongue. The way you looked made him think that maybe he should just stick to eating you out. When he panned the camera up to you, from his point of view, you looked wrecked. With your eyes gleaming against the lens, you pleaded for Mingi to touch you, to finish you off because you were so close.

Mingi turned the camera back toward himself, settled comfortably between your legs again, and dove his tongue back into you. You reminded yourself that this was his rut, and that he should be the one receiving the attention right now, but the way his mouth worked against your cunt had your thoughts short-circuiting. You didn’t want him to hurt, yet you also didn’t want him to stop. Mingi himself was enjoying you far too much.

You reached for his hair, tugging on it as your toes curled. “Mingi, baby, can I cum?” you whined, feeling him growl against your cunt.

He wasn’t slowing down in the slightest, still firmly grasping the phone to record his tongue working on you. He mumbled words of approval, bringing you closer with little suckles to your clit. Once he heard your octaves rising, he dropped the phone on the bed, closing your thighs around his head as he felt your arousal drench the sheets below him.

You struggled to catch your breath, covering your face with your shirt as Mingi drank you. You felt his tongue lick up from your inner thighs to your labia, making sure to gather every drop. He showed no intention of stopping anytime soon. The way his tongue teased you felt deliberate, squeezing your thighs tighter against his head.

“M-Mingi, what about you— woah!” You were interrupted as he rolled onto his back, now suddenly on top of him.

You hovered over his face, your pussy just a few centimeters away from his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your legs, trying to pull you down, but you resisted.

“Sit down, princess,” Mingi instructed, his eyes laser-focused on your glistening cunt hovering over him, trapped in a trance.

You pushed against him, settling on his chest as he met your gaze. His hands ran along your thighs, his pupils blown wide, staring at you as if he had no thoughts other than how to please you.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.” Mingi shook his head, trying to pull you closer. “Won’t it hurt?”

Mingi’s irises appeared completely black, consumed by lust and the taste of you.

“It won’t, please,” he coaxed. You hesitated—not only because you didn’t want to smother him but also because he was ignoring his rut entirely.

“…Teach me,” you said. If you were going to do this, you at least wanted to do it safely.

Mingi bit his bottom lip, nodding. “Like you’re riding, I’ll take care of the work.”

Hesitant, you hovered over his lips again, watching as he wrapped his arms around your thighs with need. You only lowered yourself slightly, supporting your weight with your knees.

Mingi growled softly. ”Fully,” he instructed, squeezing your skin.

Deciding to give him what he wanted, you settled your full weight onto his face, glancing down to see his eyes closed once more. Immediately, his tongue delved back into you, forcing you to brace yourself against the headboard in front of you.

“Oh… Oh…” All your concerns slipped from your mind.

Your hips moved on their own, still careful not to suffocate him. Just as he said—he would do the work. You’ve never sat on anyone’s face before, and honestly, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t tried it sooner. Mingi’s arms tightened around your thighs as his tongue explored your slick walls, his lips making slurping, wet noises against your core.

Before you, Mingi’s cock stood painfully hard, fully erect beneath his gray sweats. Of course, his rut was affecting him, but the thought of you cumming from giving San oral during your heat had him wondering if he could achieve that same thing himself.

A thick, dark gray patch had formed at the top of his sweats, precum steadily leaking down his length. He couldn’t fuck you without first satisfying his craving. Every wave of your slick made him twitch, bringing him to the edge of his release—only for it to melt away.

He couldn’t lie—he wanted you wrapped around him so badly, to the point he was fucking the air. Every time your breath hitched, or you let out a high-pitched whine, lifting your while riding his tongue, he mimicked you, bucking into nothing. He felt your tail brush under his shirt, dragging lightly across his chest while your hands stayed busy. One hand fisted a handful of Mingi’s hair as you rolled your hips, while the other cupped your full breast, fondling it. You massaged the hardened bud between your index and middle fingers, shuddering when Mingi’s nose bumped against your clit. He hadn’t meant to do it, but he noticed the way you jolted every time it happened.

You felt like you were drifting, blissfully lost in the moment, but you knew Mingi still needed to be taken care of.

“Mingi, baby, wait,” you whined, pulling him from his haze of desire. “Let me help you.”

He licked his lips and nodded, releasing your thighs so you could adjust. Your legs felt like jelly, but you managed to turn around and straddle his chest, now facing his lower half. You moved your tail out of the way and glanced back at him. Mingi looked utterly enraptured, and he barely did anything to satisfy his rut.

He really must love how you taste.

“Are you ready?” You rubbed his arms, giving him a moment to breathe—considering he’d tried to suffocate himself.

If he felt like you weren’t fully sitting on him, he’d pull you closer and closer.

“Yes, Princess,” he said, sticking his tongue out for you as you settled back onto his face. Using his hand, he spread your thighs wide, his fingers parting your folds as he picked up where he left off.

He continued his assault on your core as if nothing had happened, with the same vigor and precision. Your hands rested on his ribs, balancing yourself as your legs trembled around him.

As you tried to steady yourself, you were faced with a massive tent in his pants, and your jaw dropped. He mentioned his size once, after your heat, but it hadn’t come up since. Considering he helped you during your heat, you know you could take him, it’s just the initial surprise of seeing it.

“Mingi, you’re… huge,” you moaned breathlessly. It wasn’t meant to be said aloud, but Mingi heard it anyway. He chuckled beneath you, planting a soft peck on your clit.

“And it seems like you like it,” he said matter-of-factly, chuckling as he continued eating you out.

You pushed down his sweats and briefs, slowly revealing his length and girth. You drooled at the sight, and when it slapped his abdomen with a heavy thud, a gasp escaped your lips.

Leaning forward to hold it, you could feel the weight his length carried. Just touching it after ignoring it all this time made Mingi shiver, causing him to lose focus. The dark patch on his sweatpants confirmed he was dripping with precum. The glossy sheen of his tip made it look so pretty—the way it glittered as it trailed down his length, accentuating the protruding veins.

Wrapping your fingers around his tip, your hands were immediately coated with his essence. You gave Mingi a few experimental strokes, noticing how your fingers barely touched. He had stopped moving, instead focusing on your hand and how soft it was

Although you’d love to give him a hand job, you also craved to taste him. He tried to act nonchalant, but even you could tell you affected him deeply.

You kissed along the side of his length, tonguing a bit of his precum as you worked around him. You tasted the faint, perfumed scent of his pheromones on your tongue, coating the rest of your taste buds. Trailing back up to his tip, you opened your mouth, dripping some drool for an easier glide before taking him in, bobbing your head slowly.

Realistically, you knew you couldn’t take him into your mouth, but you wanted to try and see how much you could manage.

Mingi had to stop again, pressing his head against your plush pillows, indulging in the warmth of your mouth. Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hand, going as far down his length as you could. He felt so heavy on your tongue and deep in the back of your throat, reminding yourself to keep your breathing steady. You were confident you’d never had anyone this big in your mouth before—it turned you on profoundly.

His warm breath fanned against your core as he let out a deep, long string of moans. The satisfaction of his cock essentially fucking your throat had you quivering above him. Maybe you did like oral just as much as Mingi did.

His ears turned inward, recognizing when you were approaching your orgasm by your muffled pitch. He attached himself back to your core, sucking harshly on your clit, emitting obscene noises against you. Without warning, you came for the second time today. He was truly amazed by your love for oral.

Mingi slapped the fullness of your ass, smoothing out the searing pain as he massaged it.

You popped off his length to catch your breath, feeling so spent already when you'd barely started—meanwhile, Mingi's stamina and energy seemed undying.

Coming to your senses, you took him back into your mouth and tried to sink further down his length. He bucked into your mouth at the warm, tight envelope, occupied with lapping up your essence. Changing up the pace, your left hand went lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. Mingi tore his lips from you and cursed, hissing slightly.

“Don't stop, Princess.” His hands slid up your back from underneath, pulling your body closer to his lower half.

He was unaware of his actions; with one foot propped on the bed, he mindlessly thrust into your mouth. You closed your eyes and relaxed your jaw for him as saliva dribbled down his length. Curses, babbles, and muted moans bounced around the room, every audible reaction from Mingi shot straight to your cunt, clenching around nothing. The only way he became aware of what he was doing was when your tail accidentally brushed against his face, swaying in visible enjoyment.

He pulled out of your mouth, managing his breathing. “Fuck, I got ahead of myself-— oh...”

You took it upon yourself to sink back down, tapping his thighs to encourage him to continue.

Your face was flushed with desire, enamored by him.

Mingi got the message, gently easing back into his rhythm. With your taste lingering on his lips and the way you took his length so well, he inched closer to his orgasm. Your tongue felt his veins pulse as he twitched inside your mouth. He was extremely close.

Shortly after, Mingi came, stilling his hips as his hot essence shot down your throat. You moaned at the taste of his cocoa butter pheromones embedded in his cum, swallowing around his cock. His guttural groans vibrated against your labia, teasing you unintentionally. It was Mingi's turn to feel like a noodle; his arms dropped to the bed as his body gave out beneath you. He may have cum once, but it was a long, hard high that had been building since before he saw you in the kitchen.

You let go of his cock with a pop, kitten-licking the residual cum that lingered on his tip at the last moment. Panting, you swung your leg over his face, kneeling beside him on the bed. His chest heaved as he calmed down, still lost in his subspace. He licked his lips, missing the taste of you already, as if you weren't right next to him. Mingi's body buzzed, too heavy to move right now. His cock was spent, even if it still rested hard on his thigh, waiting.

Your hand cupped his cheek, turning his face toward you. His eyes appeared dark like the abyss, with only two stars lighting up the darkness; he was absolutely intoxicated.

“Do you need a minute?” you asked, rubbing his chest for comfort.

Mingi nodded, almost pleading with his eyes. You couldn't help but giggle at his tender face, peppering kisses all over it while he lazily kicked the rest of his sweats off.

Mingi insisted on eating you out for two more rounds, promising that you'd rest soon. He was determined to cum just from that.

But with you riding his face and ultimately reaching your high twice, he had gotten so drunk off you that he accidentally knocked out.

You were worried at first, thinking he had finally suffocated himself. But when you noticed his steady breathing as he slept, you lightly slapped his arm for getting carried away.

Without waking him, you tiptoed out of the room to the bathroom, mainly to wipe yourself down and grab a warm wash cloth. You'd never been in this position before, so the moment felt endearing to you. When you re-entered the room, he laid in the exact same position you'd left him. Both of you were halfway clothed, but at least Yunho's shirt concealed most of you. You locked the door before returning to your spot on the bed, hovering over the sleeping hybrid.

You gently wiped his face with the wash cloth, shaking your head at his silly ways of trying to prove himself to impress you. Before examining the rest of him, you made sure to wipe his entire face and neck, removing any uncomfortable layer of sweat. Once the top part was done, you reached down to clean his length and the surrounding skin. He sighed softly in his sleep from your touch but didn't stir awake. When you felt everything was clean to your satisfaction, you placed the rag in the laundry bin.

The last thing you remember was crawling into bed with Mingi, pulling the blanket over both of you to cuddle him. You threw your leg over his, your face nuzzled into his chest. He still felt hot from his rut, so you didn't know how soon the next wave would hit until he let you know. His arm suddenly came down to hold you closer; it seemed automatic, since he usually clutches something when he sleeps—whether it's you or a pillow. You closed your eyes, eventually dozing off to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

~~

Mingi was in a dilemma; his next wave hit, but you were asleep. He sat between your legs, stroking your soft thighs while struggling to hold back the urge to touch himself. He had been whining softly, hoping you'd hear him, but you didn't even react. A sharp pang struck his abdomen, causing his body to lurch forward slightly.

“Princess~” he called out softly, but a whimper drowned out his whisper.

He remembered you mentioning that you liked waking up to sex, which was a surprise to him. The inner dialogue running through his mind was hesitant—he didn't want you to misread the situation. But he bit the bullet, convinced you wouldn't have said it for no reason.

Your pheromones drew him in; just being in a room that smelled only like you was enough to drive him mad. And seeing you lying there, his love bites scattered over your skin, only fueled his lust.

Mingi leaned down to kiss your neck and your scent gland nearby. His hands snaked slowly up your body, sliding your shirt over your chest, occupying himself in the meantime.

The nap you took felt like only five minutes, but your body felt so heavy. You hovered between sleep and waking, eyes still closed, trying to steal a few more moments of rest. One minute you were sleeping soundly and uninterrupted, the next you felt something tickling you. It might have been your imagination, but something definitely felt heavy on you

Then you felt feathery kisses on your neck and down your chest.

Mingi's lips wrapped around your nipple, just like earlier in the kitchen, causing your eyes to flutter open. You softly moaned when his teeth tugged gently on your nipple before he released it, finishing with a light peck. Mingi bit his bottom lip, his gaze raking over your eyes and body.

“Mingi…” you called his name sleepily, running your fingers through his hair.

“You're awake,” he murmured, bending down to press chaste kisses on your shoulder. “Slept well?”

You nodded. Sleep always beckoned you, but so did the man before you.

“Your phone was recording the whole time,” he whispered in your ear, kissing behind it. The phone was propped up on your nightstand, its screen facing and recording both of you. “I wondered if you'd want to save this for later. It's on your phone anyway, you could always delete it. Just thought l'd add to your growing collection of pictures and videos”

You couldn't lie; the idea of rewatching you and Mingi, imagining what he was doing to you on days when you felt needy, really aroused you.

He shifted slightly in front of you, and you gasped without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth as you finally took in the position you were in. Mingi had your right leg draped over his own, his cock nestled about halfway inside you, its thickness stretching you out deliciously.

This was the source of the heavy feeling—Mingi was fucking you in your sleep.

"Fuck, baby," he hissed, stilling your hips. "I just started. I tried to wake you up, but when I pushed in..." Mingi trailed off, struggling to hold back. "You're just so tight, Princess."

You began mewling, contracting around him. What a beautiful way to wake up.

He lifted your leg, hooking it over his shoulder as he pulled out slightly, then slid deeper inside you. You held your breath, gripping the sheets as you watched where you two connected. He fit snugly against your walls, filling you completely. Your hand pressed lightly against his lower stomach, hissing as each glide of his length made you whimper.

Mingi took his time, slowly fucking you halfway until you adjusted, then sliding more of himself in with each thrust. The wanton moans escaping you sent pulses straight to his cock, especially as you looked so pliant beneath him. Whenever you needed him to slow down, you pressed your fingertips against his abdomen. He always waited for your signal, occupying himself by kneading your thighs.

When you tried to pull him closer with your other leg, wanting him deeper, he stopped you.

"Can't hurt yourself again," Mingi stated firmly. He didn't want a repeat of what had happened during your heat.

"More," you begged, gripping his bicep.

Mingi huffed softly, biting back his groans. "You want more?"

He looked deeply into your eyes, reading the way your mouth hung open, nodding wordlessly at him.

"Can you take all of me?" He already knew the answer; he'd seen you take him incredibly well.

Once you confirmed it was alright for him to continue, Mingi nearly filled you to the brim. His rut urged him to hurry and fuck you senseless, but he knew better than that. He was the biggest you'd ever had; he knew it, yet he'd barely done anything, and you were already begging for more.

You needed all of him. And he yearned for all of you.

"Fully," you repeated his words back to him, chewing your bottom lip.

Mingi adjusted your right leg over his left shoulder, pushing the rest of his length deeper into you. You dragged out a moan, muffling it by burying your face into the pillow beneath your head. Mingi winced at the ache of his rut, digging his fingers into your skin as he thrust long, slow, languid strokes inside your slick cunt.

He easily brushed along your G-spot, each thrust hitting your cervix. He admired how your pussy gripped his length, swallowing him whole with every motion. You couldn't help but glance at your phone, still recording. Seeing the reflection of Mingi thrusting deep into you as you lay on your side only turned you on more. Your hand reached for his shirt, tugging him closer. He thought you wanted to kiss him, so he closed his eyes, leaning in to meet your lips—-but instead, you bit down on his scent gland again.

Mingi's deep, throaty groans turned into needy whines and whimpers, fucking into you with newfound desperation.

"I'm not delicate anymore," you whispered after kissing his scent gland. His mind felt light and empty, like he was on cloud nine, but he registered every word

"While you were sleeping," he huffed, sucking in a breath as he reached for something by your head, "I thought we could use this again."

"Please," you breathed. The immediate hum of the buzzing was music to your ears as you wrapped your tail around his arm while he lowered the wand where you craved it most.

Mingi held your vibrating wand in his hand, and you suddenly remembered how the two of you had shared it during your heat. The idea utterly enthralled you, it would help both of you release the tension building in your bodies.

Today was going to be a very long day.