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#is this anything. hello can An Y ONE HEAR ME
claypgeons · 1 day
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the golf cart
paring: max verstappen x reader, oscar piastri x reader, charles leclerc x reader.
warning: scrapped knees, stealing a golf cart, fluff, kinda short.
summary: you ‘steal’ a golf cart, it goes as well as anyone could expect.
part of living the life ! series
notes: request for this series are open! please send them! i need ideas :)) reblogs comments and likes are all always greatly appreciated <33
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“Are you just going to leave the keys there?” You looked by at the intern from where you were sitting in the Red Bull garage, he had just driven a golf cart- used to travel drivers- into the Red Bull garage. Max was somewhere, doing something, and you didn’t have to do anything important, for atleast two hours.
“Yeah?” the intern drew out, “Should I take them with me?” he panicked slightly, he was obviously new at his job, and you only felt slightly guilty about what you were going to do.
“No, no,” you reassured him, standing up, and wiping the dust off your butt. The intern nodded slightly, looking hesitant before walking away. You beamed at the opportunity, you looked around, making sure nobody was looking at you. Thankfully, they were all focused on placing the final touches on Max’s car. 
Quickly, and as quietly, you hopped into the golf cart, turning it on. Shutting your eyes tightly, looking around making sure nobody had heard. 
Smiling, you slowly drove out onto the track, laughing loudly once you were officially out on the track, “Hell yeah…” you whispered.
You sped up, driven further and further away from the Red Bull garage. The stands of people got louder, it seemed like some had already recognized you. 
“Hey! What the fuck!” you heard a loud yell behind you, seems like Red Bull employees had also noticed you. 
“Sorry!” you yelled back, although the big smile on your face, made your apology seem really fake. 
The fans in the stand got louder, all cheering and taking videos. You waved your hand as a princess would do, smile getting bigger. 
“Hello!” you beamed, although you knew they wouldn’t hear you. 
“YN!” you heard a voice in the cart, eyebrows furrowed you looked around, confused, “Oh,” you laughed, realizing it was the radio, “Y/N can you hear me?” 
Picking up the microphone, the ones police officers use, you held down the side button, still waving at fans, “Yes I can! Hello!” 
“Y/N..” the man sounded exhausted, you could only imagine he was rubbing his forehead in despair, “Please turn the cart around.” 
“I’ll only do one lap I swear!” and with that, you placed the microphone down, that was, until you heard the grumpy voice of your manager, Mark Webber, “Y/N pick up the damn mic.” 
You shook your head vigorously as if he could see you, well he probably could, with the amount of cameras you had on yourself. “You’re not in trouble.” he sighed, “I promise.” 
Huffing, you picked up the mic, now halfway through the track, “Yes?” 
“Why would you steal a cart?” he got straight to it, “Just..why?”
“I was…” you coughed awkwardly, speeding up as fast as it could go, which seems to be 20 mph, “Bored.” 
“Bored? You were BORED?” Mark yelled into the mic, “DON’T YELL AT M!E!” you yelled back, eyebrows furrowed in anger. 
Mark sighed, you could hear Landos laugh in the background, and you wondered what Oscar was doing. “Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. But you need to come back.” 
“I’m almost back.” You said as you went on the last turn, it was sharp, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to fully make it, and of course, you were right, because just a second later, the golf cart was on its side, with you in it. 
You heard the crowd go silent. A complete 360 to how happy they were a second ago. You laughed, standing up with bleeding knees, of course, today was the day you decided to wear shorts, “I’m okay!’ you announced loudly, thankfully the silence made it so at least some people could hear you, and with some of the crowd cheering, the rest soon followed, even if some of them didnt know what they were cheering for. 
Turning, you saw a huge group of people running toward you, Mark Webber included. Uh oh. 
… 
“It’s just scrapped knees,” you mumbled, looking up at Oscar who was passing up and down, in the family and friends area, you now had bandages on both of your knees and were waiting for the on-site doctor to clear you for racing. 
“I just don’t.” Oscar sighed, sitting next to you, “I don’t understand why you would do that.” 
You smiled, but before you could respond, you heard a strong dutch accent coming from your left, “She’s done worse.” Max smiled, coming over to you, Charles not far behind. 
He leaned in for a quick kiss, not caring if anyone around saw, after almost three years of being together, you could say he was the most tired of hiding your relationship. He sat on your right, opposite Oscar, while Charles, laughed standing in front of you, “Yeah, she has.”
“Do they hurt bad?” Max looked down at your knees, “Not much.” you mumbled, snapping your head up to the sound of people walking over to you, it was the doctor, Mark, and Lando. 
“You are clear to race.” The doctor started, you beamed, sitting up straighter, “But you should change your bandage right before and after the race.” he told you, before walking away with Mark. 
“Told you it was going to be fine.” You placed a comforting hand on Oscar’s knees, Lando stood by Charles, looking down at you with a frown,” How are we going to party later?” Ah yes, you and Lando were quite the party animals.
“I can take shots sitting down.” 
“So, Y/N,” the interviewer started, smiling at you. It was now hours later, the race had finished, with Lando - unexpectedly- winning his first race, and you coming in fourth. Oscar had helped you rebandage your knees before you went off to do interviews. “I think we all saw the golf cart incident.” she laughed, and you nodded, “Would you like to explain that…?” 
“I mean..” you thought, “I don’t think there’s much to explain, I took a golf cart and went on a joy ride, it was quite fun.”
— y/n had posted new pictures!
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 883,288 others !
yntheracer: scrapped knees, lando winning, taking shots sitting down. i’d say it was a successful day!
view more comments below!
landonorris: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS
yntheracer: LANDO NORRIS THE RACE WINNER !!!!!!
user: lando and yns relationship is something i hold very dear to me
user: it was a very adventurous day for y/n
yntheracer: indeed it was !!!
oscarpiastri: please enever steal a golf cart again 😓
yntheracer: no promises :D
user: lando and y/n siting in a tree…
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undercoverpena · 12 hours
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13. hello yellow
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter thirteen of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 4.3k (she became a biggie) chapter warnings: reference to anxious!reader. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this is the one you've been waiting for... .
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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It grows on your tongue on a cooler morning—the birds having only just begun chirping, the sun really only just rising. But he's there, truck parked outside as he brings you coffee, for no other reason than just because.
It's almost hard not to say the three words.
They thicken in your throat when you surprise him at work, having already spoken to Harry, asking if you can steal him for an extra half an hour. His face brightens, practically illuminating when he sees you at the register. It continues to do so when you take him back to the place where the two of you had lunch, his face beaming.
You’re not sure how the words don’t escape there and then.
There are a bunch of moments saying them could have been right. It would be so easy to let them slip out, but then he'll say something that makes you laugh, or his phone will go off and the conversation shifts, and you wait a little longer.
But you don’t just want right, you want perfect.
Just like him.
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You know how we love Harold?
Yes?
He might have recommended me to a friend of his for some paintwork.
This sounds like a good thing, yet it feels very bad for me.
The only date the man can do is the day I said we’d go to the beach.
If this isn’t you asking me to come and help you be your a-paint-tice I’m going to be really let down.
You want to come paint a man’s house with me?
I want to do anything with you, Butterscotch.
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It vibrates from two rooms away—buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
Your feet rush for you, socks almost making you a health hazard as you round the corner from your bedroom to the hallway. A laugh trying to escape from giddiness as your palms press into your off-white walls, before using it for leverage to continue.
Moving, almost running, not looking where you’re going, only realising at the last second when your foot collides with it.
Pain.
It pulses and makes tears spring to your eyes instantly. The hurt is more than radiating, it erodes, grows and pounds.
Fucking toolbox.
Hand grasping it as you half-hobble to the little side table where your phone almost topples off.
Butterscotch <3
A caller ID that usually brings an immediate smile to your face, and still, even as you clutch your foot in your hand and drag your finger across the screen, it somehow still does.
“Hey, I’m almost there—did you want lunch in or out?”
Stuffing a wince down your throat, you blink back fresh tears as your thumb presses down on a particular spot. “I need to show you something but maybe out?”
“You okay?” No, you want to hiss—wanting to add extra O’s and everything. “You sound off?”
Swallowing bitterness, you try to smile as you lower your foot—putting some weight on it as you suddenly become warm, and uncomfortable.
“Rainy?”
“Butterscotch, I bet you’re one street—you’re literally pulling up.”
You swear you hear him grin. Almost being able to tell even from the way he puts his vehicle in park that his smile is growing into his cheeks and cascading over his eyes. It makes your own appear, somehow rising to the surface and kicking its feet furiously to appear.
By the time you’d end the call, quickly check your foot inside your sock and put it back in place, your eyes catch his coming through your front door. Letting in amber streams of sunlight that paint across the hardwood in warm, honeyed hues. Bringing in warmth, a calmness, the pain suddenly non-existent when you see him slide out the key from the keyhole—the one you’d told him to keep, the one you’d give him, told him to use.
The sight pulls at something inside of you, making it easier to smile, to beam as he closes it behind him and walks himself up to you—mouth pressing to yours. The taste of coffee and mint flooding your mouth, your fingers full of his curls as his hand presses to your lower spine—bodies flush, his keys clanging in the air.
“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he whispers, teeth teasing your bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “But, baby, what are you wearing?”
His hand slides down the plastic, water-proof full-body overalls you have on. It rustles, making your skin even warmer when he takes another long look at you, and laughs.
Not a giggle.
Not a quiet, hidden and disguised laugh. A full-on roar of laughter.
“I got it for next week,” you exclaim, heat rising up your neck. “You told me I’d need to wear something that would cover me—wanted to make sure it was okay.”
“Baby, I meant not your romper—'cause you’ll get paint on your legs. I didn't mean a… hazmat suit?”
Folding your arms, you take a step back, face scrunching in a wince you’re not sure he notices as you roll your eyes before turning on your heels to change. “I’m new to this.”
“I know, I know,” he says, trying to stifle his laugh, hand reaching out. “Baby, wait, I’m sorry. Okay? You just don’t need—fuck, Rainy. I can see your ass through this.”
“No, you cannot.”
“I fucking can.”
Letting him pull you into his arms, you shake your head, stupidly unable to stop yourself from grinning, before his lips brush over yours. Your nails digging into the t-shirt on his waist, mouth parting as he eases you back, a grimace hidden against his tongue as his knee nudges between your plastic-covered thighs.
“Frankie,” you whisper, it leaving your tongue like a whine.
He only hums in response, it vibrating against you, fingers tightening in his curls as his knee rises that bit more, friction so readily there, easily able to rock your hips if you so want to. Until it rustles, furrows, a noise so unsexy you feel him slowly grin against your mouth.
“Can’t believe you just wore underwear under this,” he teases, dropping his knee.
Your breath finds your lungs with more ease as you roll your lower lip between your teeth, admiring him, unable to stop ogling the man who is very much all yours after the position he just had you in.
“I should change before we go out for lunch,” you mumble. “Before I flash everyone.”
Moving away from him before he can stop you, you let out a groan as your bad foot flattens, unable to hide the misstep. Hearing him call your name, you're quick to wave him off. Digging your nails into your palm as you take (what feels like a thousand) steps until you’re unzipping the ridiculous plastic, all-in-one, and begin yanking drawers and doors open until you’re standing in something more appropriate for lunch.
Half-closing your bedroom door behind you, you don’t need to call for him, you know where he’ll be. Finding him exactly where you expected, tape measure in hand—right in front of one of the office windows.
“Thought you could do that in your head.”
Snorting, shooting you a look over his shoulder, he grins. “Wanna make sure I’m exact.”
“For me?”
“For you.”
Leaning against the frame, not obviously showing you’re taking the weight from your now pulsing foot, you try to smile. Listening as he begins telling you about getting something for your windows, instead of thinking how you should ice it, get him to wrap it, maybe ask him—politely—if he’d put his fucking toolbox away between visits before you actually break something.
Somehow, you hear enough to follow what he’s saying, about how blinds would help, that they’d give you more daylight while also shielding you if you wish to work in the dark—they’d be more flexible, modern. He could help you fit them.
And it dawns on you, that while you've had it in your head about curtains, this is a thing you should have thought of yourself.
A thing which feels so obvious now he’s said it that it irks you that you haven’t. Because blinds would be better. Digging a hole in you, making you feel silly, stupid, and foolish—
The realisation makes you pinch your forearm and take a deep breath. You re-centre yourself, thinking about the one image that inspired all of this, imagining it with blinds instead of what had remained fixed in your head, hung and stuck.
The problem with desiring something inspirational is that it isn’t always tailored to the person who desires it. To you, who will be using the room. Yet, Frankie has thought of you—like the considerate, beautiful man that he is.
“From your face, you don’t want blinds?” he asks.
Your mouth opens, before closing. Putting some weight down as your eye narrows in pain—it floods through you as you try not to frown. “It’s not that—I just thought curtains. Thought I preferred the way curtains look, is all.”
Frankie shrugs, staring out of the window, before glancing back. “Curtains it is then.”
“But, blinds do make sense.”
And you can see it, the way he chews his tongue—the way he swallows words he wishes to say. It flares something within. Rolling his head on his shoulders, and scratching the back of his head, he smiles.
“But you want curtains.”
“I did.”
“Then have curtains.”
He’s being nice—that’s what you remind yourself. He’s being kind and thoughtful. He’s taking what you’re saying and giving you exactly that.
Yet it feels… bad.
It makes you all of a sudden not want it—anger bubbling, trying to grow wider in your stomach. Instead, wanting him to tell you that you should have blinds, for all the reasons he’s listed, because it makes sense. They’re practical, and easy; it’ll block the sun out if it’s a bright day. They’ll even look modern; following the theme of the room.
And the fact he isn’t reminding you of that makes you mad. So much you feel it clawing up your throat, all ash and brimstone; flames and bonfire.
But you’re not mad at him. You’re mad at yourself for not looking. You’re not mad at him, just his toolbox. You’re not mad at him. You’re mad—
It repeating. Swirling. Shifting around the imaginary plug hole in your head as you wait for it to fall through and douse whatever it is that is brewing inside of you.
“I didn’t think of it like you did, so let’s have blinds.”
“It’s okay, it’s really—”
“But, they make sense, Frankie. You just said so.”
Jaw tightening, he hides his annoyance with a smile. “But, baby, you don’t want blinds, so let me just measure for—”
Standing straight, unable to hide the miniature sob from pain, you follow it with: “Stop being nice to me.”
He blinks. Both at your tone and the words that snap through the air as your palm pushes against your forehead, hoping to quiet it, the simmering anger that bubbles and thickens like soup.
“Rainy—”
“You don’t… I’m not broken, Frankie. Sometimes we can just… disagree. You can tell me I’m wrong.”
“I know that.”
He says it so quickly, all with a colder edge to his words. Ice threatening to wrap around them, freeze, as they go to land, pellet. Bruise against you.
Tilting your head, you stare at him—knowing you should stop. Remove your finger from the metaphorical scab. “Do you? Because ever since the other month you’ve been… extra nice.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“It is when I’m furious with you,” you snap, it’s out now, you think.
Chest tight, things unfurling and uncoiling, flames ripping through you as though all the emergency doors have flung open and allowed it to breathe through every part of you.
“When I’m mad that I tripped over your toolbox again because you didn’t put it away. Because you likely did something nice for me and forgot. But now I’ve really hurt my foot—”
“—Baby, why didn’t you—”
But you ignore him. Not even waving him off, just continuing, “—and that I can’t decide if I want curtains or blinds and yet you make a very good argument for blinds that I hadn’t considered and you always do that—have amazing ideas, great insight, plus, you seemingly know me better than I know me, which is so lovely, but I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it. But, you, you didn't do that, because you understand me.”
“Is this a bad thing?”
No, you think as your mouth jams shut. Staring. Blinking. Because of course, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s never been something you’ve had, never experienced, never thought could possibly be given to you.
A thing that you both love, so much, but also feel is going to be ripped from you at any moment. Better not to have it, than lose it. No skill to prepare for this level of care, so used to having to make decisions and choices and have no one offer to help.
But he’s not going.
He’s standing, hands at his sides, line between his brows. Confusion trying to crawl over him and lather his features, but he seems to be fighting it, stopping it. His eyes somehow remain soft even as your mouth hands open, more words set to spit and fire—
“I need. I need a moment.”
And you don’t wait for the okay or the sight of his face falling.
Just moving, hurrying. Feet trying to carry you through to the kitchen as your palms use the wall as a crutch to do so, finding a counter to rest on, to lean on, to breathe against as thick, uncontrollable tears begin to paint your cheeks. Whether from the pain or the fact you’d snapped. Unable to hold them back from rumbling out when your forehead presses against cool wood as you take breaths in and out, in and out.
Doing so until the pain dries on your cheeks and you’re merely resting, taking the moment you said you needed before you hear him clear his throat. Before he asks if he can come closer and if he can look at your foot, two things you quickly nod for—wanting to take it back, apologise, even explain. Instead, you let him aid you up onto the counter, slide the sock from your foot assess it and turn it, finger brushing over your skin as light as a feather as he asks does it hurt here, or what about here?
It makes your heart flutter.
Makes it even harder not to blurt three words at him, when really he deserves a chorus of them for what in the hell just happened. So, you lead with:
“I’ve decided that I don’t like fighting with you.”
Snorting, he picks up the sock from the floor, easing it slowly back over your toes. “It’s not my favourite thing we do together either.”
Smirking, you stare down at him. Watching him. “I don’t want you to think I’m fragile. That’s all.
“That you can’t challenge me just because of what happened the other month. Because it’ll happen again. But I can still make choices, you can still tell me I’m wrong—sometimes, I need you to tell me I’m wrong, because if you agree with me all the time, you won’t push me to be better. I’ll just stay stagnant, and choose curtains when I really think I’ll regret it and want blinds.”
Standing, he places his hands on either side of your thighs on the counter, letting out a heavy exhale as he looks at you, as he stares from eye to eye, before whispering your name. The one which sounds so kind in his mouth, that sounds like it matters—that it holds importance and weight, even if you prefer Rainy.
“I don’t think you’re fragile,” he whispers as you slide your hand over his, watching his eyes soften, heal. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did.”
Half-smiling, you nod. Eyes searching his, waiting to see if the lie appears when he blinks, whether it spreads out like paint touching water and if it makes his truthful eyes murky. But it never comes. Instead, his hand cups your cheek, in a way that centres you and makes you only want to look at him.
Exhaling, he smiles. “I just don't want to make you choose something you don't want. That's all, baby.”
Eyeing him chewing words, weighing up whether it’s worth it to speak them or let them slide back into the crevice they slithered from. Because it’s painful, maybe far too much truth for him, can see it in the way it makes lines appear across his face, as though it’s fracturing him to remember.
“I wasn’t really mad at you.”
Slowly, a grin breaks out. “Yes, you was.”
“Okay, a little bit, but it wasn’t your fault. So, I’m sorry. But I am mad at your toolbox, it really hurt.”
“I’ll be sure to tell it.”
Narrowing your eyes, you slowly part your legs, tugging on him to move between them, wrapping them around his waist as he shyly smiles. “Been thinking.”
“About how you now want curtains again?”
Pinching him, hearing him hiss, you smirk. “Too soon, Morales. No. I’ve been thinking that the cupboard closest to the office door.” He hums in response, it vibrating against your collarbone as he kisses it. “Think that’s where your toolbox should live.”
You feel him grin against your skin, blow warm air in an exhale against it. “You making room for my tools now.”
Lifting his chin, nose bumping against the tip of his, you mirror his smile. “I want to make room for all of you, Frankie.”
“Yeah?”
Pressing a peck to his lips, you wipe your thumb over it. “Yeah.”
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Babe, what is the attire for a kid's soccer match?
Comfort. It’s a lot of standing at the sidelines and hopeful cheering.
So knee-high socks and tight shorts are a no?
Fuck. That’s a fucking image.
Help me, because what I’ve Googled isn’t helping me.
I have a spare shirt you can wear.
Does it have Morales on the back?
It actually does.
Frankie, did you make adult versions of your son’s soccer team kit?
Does it make me lame if I say yes?
No, it makes me want to ask you if you can grab me fifteen minutes earlier so my mouth can show you how not-lame that is.
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You'll be pleased to know I've sent the email and I am no longer working with 'prickly-puta', as you so lovingly called him.
I'm really proud of you. You okay?
I'd be better if I could celebrate with you, but I can wait.
How would you want to celebrate?
You sure you want to know?
Always, baby.
Well, I was thinking about showing you my power tools.
Maybe even using them? Letting you see what I do with them. It's very different from what you do with yours.
You there, I can see the typing bubble keep popping up.
Give me ten and I can video chat.
Oh no, you don't get an advanced preview. Might let you listen though.
Fuck me.
That's what I'd be saying if you were here right now.
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You don't mind that painting ruined the beach because the rain is unrelenting.
The grey of the day filters through the bare windows, spreading itself as far as it can as Frankie prepares the second room of the three the two of you were set to do.
You don’t mind the sound of rain; you never have. You find it peaceful how it cascades down from the drains and runs in marathons down the glass. Right now, the sound trickles in through the open window, while the room is suffused with the scent of fresh paint from the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of the third pot of coffee Frankie’s been brewing.
Even if he doesn't admit it, you swear he's only making as many so he can take a moment to kiss you. To run his hands over your waist and slide them over your romper-covered ass—
“Have I told you how good your ass looks in this?”
Sipping your coffee, tasting each note of it, you reply, “Twice, actually.”
“Not enough then.”
Between acting like teenagers in a stranger’s home (including him leaving a large handprint firmly on your denim-covered ass), the paint goes on in thick strokes. You cut in, trying to match the rhythm of the song playing out on the radio—a game only you are playing to distract yourself—because the sight of Frankie using the roller is ruining you.
Unable to stop staring at the way his arms flex with each motion; how his shirt stretches out across his back to the point you're not sure how the threads haven't ripped.
“Want to see the colour for this room?”
It’s a serene shade of yellow, reminiscent of a summer’s day. It'll brighten the room, glide nicely over the old, smothering secrets and old stories, offering something new. Fitting, you think from the drive over when Frankie told you the situation.
“It's perfect.”
“Isn't it?”
Arm around his waist, fingers stroking up and down his side. “Did you pick it, Morales?”
Shyness breaks out then, smile lopsided, eyes averting before whispering, “Maybe.”
You made a note to tell him later what an eye for colour he has.
Dipping the tip of the brush in the paint tray, you swipe it against the corner where two walls meet, finding his eyes on you again.
“Stop marvelling at my paintwork and focus on your own, Morales.”
“S’not your paint skills I’m staring at.”
Smirking, you look over your shoulder at him, nose scrunching. “Who knew watching me paint was your kink.”
You like the sound of his laugh mingling with the yellow on the walls. It makes you smile wider, a thing you find yourself doing each time you refill your paint tray as torture him with your terrible singing.
The only other noise is the rain, the clink of a paint can and the rustle of plastic drop cloths as the transformation happens before your very eyes. It’s not even dried, and it already looks far better than the cigarette-stained walls and palm-covered handprints you hadn’t wanted to guess why they were there, yet had done all the same.
“Maybe he’s measuring how tall he is with his hands.”
Frankie snorts. “What if he wipes his dirty hands on the wall? Finishes his food, wipes. Gets something on his finger, wipes. Has a sticky hand—well.”
You’re about to tell him not to finish that thought, when the radio plays the beginning notes of something that steals your attention.
It hooks in the corner of your lips and drags it up your cheeks as the familiar melody of an old favourite drifts from the speakers, wrapping the space in a cosy embrace—both taking you back and rooting you here in a new memory.
You try not to, but you can’t help the movement in your hips. The way you begin whispering—hushed voice mingling with the music, filling the room with a gentle, attempted harmony as your pitch gets higher, and higher.
Then, you're swaying to the rhythm, lost in it, catching a glimpse of Frankie out of the corner of your eye as he leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
There's something in his eyes, you can see it. A tender look, one that makes your heart skip a beat.
But you close your eyes, and let the music carry you away, your voice rising and falling with the lyrics as they spill from your lips effortlessly. Opening your eyes at the bridge, finding him still watching, in awe, gaze unwavering.
And there's a softness there in his expression that you've never seen before, a quiet intensity that takes your breath away. It's as if the world has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this sunshine-filled room, back-lit by a horrid stormy day.
Yet, it feels perfect.
More so as you begin to sing to him, unable to stop staring as he takes a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers slide under yours, taking the tray and brush from your hands, placing it aside as his smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.
“What?”
He reaches out, gently brushing his knuckles on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady.
For a moment, the room seems to stand still.
A flicker of something sparks inside you. Those same words have been so close to your tongue for days now that you almost need to pinch yourself to see if you've really heard them.
But, you know you heard it. The declaration hanging in the air, weighty and profound, making the actual music fade into the background, you swear time itself pauses, allowing the enormity of his words to sink in.
Frankie slides his arm around your waist, still smiling, tugging you closer—a thing your body gives with all but ease. And he repeats it. Those three words.
This time, your heart skips a beat. Emotions swirl within you like a tempestuous sea. One that calms under the stroke of his thumb as your fingers wrapping around his wrist, drawing a soft shape there.
“I love you too, Morales.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, a grin breaking out like the sun on the walls. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
Then you hear it, the velvety, smooth sound of him saying good, as he kisses you to the last notes and chorus of an old, but new favourite song.
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
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pablitogavii · 11 hours
Note
Hello can you do a Fanfic about Pablo Gavi and the reader are in toxic Relationship but with some smut? Btw no pressure take your time writing 💘💌
They are not in a relationship..yet ;)
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Moving in with Pablo Gavi might have been the worst choice of my life. Even though the apartment was in the center, very luxurious and nice, having him as a roommate was the same as having him as a jealous boyfriend sometimes!
"I'm telling you that you're not going out like that!" Pablo was determined laying back in the sofa watching some old Barça game while I was getting ready in my own bedroom.
"And I'm telling you to stop acting like my dad Pablo! Just because we live together doesn't mean you can boss me around!" I yelled back rolling my eyes while messaging his sister. She is the one who suggested I move in with her younger brother so I at least have someone in Barcelona.
"I won't repeat myself, Y/n..you..are..not..going..anywhere" he was now at my door frame checking out my little black dress trying his best to look me in the eyes instead.
"Why do you care what I wear!? Maybe I want some attention tonight!" I said the first thing that came to mind obviously not meaning it..truth be told, I quickly developed a crush on my jealous roommate.
"Whose attention!?" he was quick and I rolled my eyes grabbing my phone but he quickly snatched it from my hands looking at the screen.
"Hey! That's mine! Give it back asshole!" I jumped trying to grab my phon from him but his hand quickly wrapped around my waist holding my down while he looked at my messages with his sister.
"You're dissing me to my sister, bug?" he smirked and I rolled my eyes pulling away and crossing my arms in front of my chest in anger. Pablo gave my phone back when he was satisfied that it was only his sister I was texting.
"Now if you're satisfied, move so I can go"I said about to walk past him but he was still as a statue shaking his head looking down at my little outfit.
"You will get in trouble looking like that at night.." he said more so worried than angry now. I looked him with big eyes using them to my advantage per usual. I quickly learned how to get my way with this man.
"Fine! Do what you want but have me on speed dial!" he said leaving my room and I smiled nodding my head quickly kissing his cheek before leaving for the night.
y.n.bebe
Barcelona, Spain
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See ya tonight Barcelona ✨
comments:
juancarlos: aiii mamiiii 🤤
javierbar: i'll search for you in the crowds hermosa
braxtonmall: things I'd do to that body mamiii
gavifans: is Gavi coming???
aurorapaezg: linda💗
y.n.bebe: 💗💗
Pablo just kept scrolling down at the comments of various men saying the most gross and nasty things they would do to me. He was so anxious that he couldn't even pay any more attention to the game so he turned the TV off.
All he could think about is me in that black dress..all alone..with all of those sick people out there. He quickly changed into some fancy clothes texting to ask for my location. I didn't respond cause music was too loud to hear anything, so he called Aurora in the middle of the night.
"Do you know what club she went to Rora!?" he asked and the girl was just waking up from her sleep confused.
"Pablo? Did something happen to Y/n?" she asked
"No! I mean, I don't know! But she shouldn't be out looking like that and alone! It's dangerous Rora! They know she lives with me, so what if someone attacks or kidnaps her!?" he was spirling and Aurora told him to breathe for a moment.
"Seriously, Pablo. You care almost like you're her boyfriend. She's probably fine, why don't you go to sleep?" Aurora said knowing deep down about her brother's crush on me.
"I can't sleep when she's not here...just please tell me where she went!" he said feeling his own heart jump at the words he used. He really cared about me and wished I knew how much.
Meanwhile, the party was getting boring. People were too drunk and everyone started touching random strangers. I was never into that kind of stuff so I decided to call myself an Uber and go home knowing Pablo must be going mental already.
When I turned on my phone, I gulped. Shit! He called me nine times!? Ohh he's probably pissed off right now.
"Pretty girls like you don't need to pay for an Uber, I can drive you home linda" half drunk man walked up to me and I politely said that I was fine.
"What!? You think you too good for anyone but Pablo Gavi!? I have the same car as him, princess..vamos!" he was grabbing my hand now and i panicked speed dialing my emergency contact..Pablo Gavi.
"Y/n! Are you crazy not to answer your phone! Hola!?" Pablo's voice was heard as he was yelling as I tried my best to make him realize I was in trouble.
"Um..I don't want to go with you please leave me alone" I said a bit louder hoping Pablo heard before hanging up the phone.
Since Aurora told him where I was, he was already almost there seeing me in the parking lot pulling away from the guy and quickly braking and rushing outside of the car not caring that he almost cause a car accident.
"Hey hijo de puta! How do you like this, huh!?" he fist punched him and I screamed while he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the car with him before cameras and paparazzi showed up.
"Oh my God Pablo! You won't believe what happened..I.." I was catching my breath trying to talk but he interrupted me rather rudely.
"Callate! We'll talk when we get home!" he said and I gulped looking at his clenched jaw and bloody knuckles..fuck he was pissed off now!
"Come on, let me help you" he said seeing a little bruise on my knee when I fell trying to run and he carried me bridal style onto our shared apartment. I felt my heart beating fast as he sat me down on the sofa grunting a little while inspecting his hand.
"Pablo..I.." I tried again but he shook his head making me shut up.
"Are you really angry with me?" I said sadly but he was in no mood for sentiments. He was scared half to death when he heard my helpless voice on the phone.
"Yes! I am angry with you!" he yelled and I punted curling up in the ball leaving him alone.
"I told you what would happen! Bot Mrs. Independant does anything she wants even if it puts her in trouble!" he was saying it still not looking into my eyes.
"I didn't know that would happen, okay!?" I was angry now too. Why was he scolding me when if I try to be closer to him he pushes me away!?
"What did you think huh!? That you can protect yourself if a guy throws himself at you!?" he said finally looking at me with eyes red from anger.
"Whatever, Pablo! I didn't need your help anyways!" now I was acting out of stubbornness hating the fact that he still looks at me as a child. I tried getting up but he wouldn't let me throwing me on the sofa and hovering above me.
"Oh yeah!? And what would you do if a guy pins you down like this, huh!? Hold your arms above your head? You would fight him off, no?" he was mocking me now and I blushed bright red at the position we were currently in. He was only inches away from my face holding me tightly against the sofa.
"Pablo, let me go!" I said trying to struggle which only made the boy laugh.
"That's all you would do? Please, bug you don't have half of my strenght!" he said and I stopped struggling looking away with a sad face. He was right..he really saved me tonight and I am giving him the attitude again.
"I know what I would do.." I whisper and he leans down turning my face towards his.
"What is that preciosa?" he said looking from my lips to my eyes and I bit my lower lip..fuck it!
"I would call you.." I admit and he smirked nodding his head and leaning further down to capture my lips in a sweet passionate kiss.
"And I would always come..to protect you princesa" he spoke while leaving butterfly kisses down my neck and shoulders while I closed my eyes enjoying the new sensation.
"Mm Pablito?" I said and he raised his head looking me in the eyes.
"Yes mi amor?" he said and I swear something in be broke the moment i heard those words leave his gorgeous lips.
"Are you still angry with me?" I say with a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief shrugging his shoulders in response.
"What if I help you now?" I said moving a little to sit on his lap and he welcomed it curious to what I will do next. I smile leaning forwards to kiss his knuckles and he smiled playing with my hair gently.
"Better mi heroe?" I smile looking up and he smirked nodding his head and leaning down to kiss my lips hungrily.
"Don't ever do something stupid like this again, princesa!?" he said sternly and I blushed nodding my head.
"Now i have all the attention I need at home..from mi novio" I said and he grabbed my neck pulling me a little up before smashing his lips onto mine again.
"How long I wanted to hear you say that mi amor.." he whispered into my lips while we were kissing.
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cassidymb121 · 24 hours
Text
OMG It’s You (Part 6)
YouTube! Fem reader x Stray Kids
Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?
⚠️Warnings⚠️: rambling, rambling, and more rambling
🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone
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Y/N’s POV
I knew I was in over my head doing this PO Box address. Being out of breath I walk over to my desk to turn everything on. While waiting for my computers to come to life, I sit in my chair. I was in the middle of reading an email when I got the call from the post office. Once I’m logged into my laptop, I go back to the email.
Dear Y/N,
We have been following your channel and have loved your reviews on K-Pop albums. On the behalf of everyone here at JYP Entertainment, we would like to give you exclusive access to Stray Kids newest mini album Oddinary. We’d ask that you don’t release the video until the release date. If it’s entirely possible, we’d like to have early access to the video, so that we can let Stray Kids watch it together before the release. Thank you for always supporting Stray Kids.
Sincerely,
Park Jin-young
I almost wanted to roll my eyes when he asked me not to release the video until after everyone has access to the mini album. Like I would even think about doing that anyway. I click on the attachment below where the mini album is sitting, waiting to be listened to. I look back at all the stuff that I brought back from the post office and drop my shoulders. ‘Do I want to record this video first, or wait and make a video about all the stuff I got from the fans?’ That thought alone was already making my head hurt. “On one hand, if I go ahead and listen to the mini album then all I’ll have to do is edit it. Though I’ll have all these packages and letters littering my room. On the hand, if I do the stuff from the fans, I might not be able to record the mini album video before it releases.” I say aloud to myself. I knew that sitting here any longer was going to prolong me from doing anything.
After making up my mind, I decided I’d make a short video showing all the stuff I got from the post office and then I’ll do the review on the mini album. So that way I can edit it and have it ready. Then in the meantime, I can start opening up the mail I’ve gotten from the fans. Satisfied with the plan I’ve conjured in my head, I get started on executing my plan.
Before I go any further, I type up a professional email to JYP thanking him for the access and promise to not release the video until everyone else has access to it as well.
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After making a short video showing everyone how much stuff I received and a promise to do a video on me opening up the packages, I uploaded it to my channel. I pull back up the attachment to the mini album. I grab my headphones from their rack on the desk and plug them into my laptop. I do all my checks to make sure that both the viewers and myself can hear the music clearly. Once I get everything the way I like, I go ahead and get freshened up and get something to eat.
Coming back feeling lighter now that I’m clean and got food in my belly, I sit back in my chair and get comfortable. I made sure to brush my teeth and floss because I didn’t want my viewers to get distracted by something in between my teeth. Just thinking about it causes shivers to go down my spine.
Grabbing my headphones, I put them over my ears and do one last test that I can hear myself speak from the microphone. I situate myself and take a deep breath. I turn my camera on and wait five seconds before putting a smile on my face and speaking to everyone.
“Hello Lovelies! So I have some very exciting news for all of you. I received an email from a certain company and have been given early access to this artist mini album. That’s right! I have been given early access to Stray Kids newest Mini Album by JYP himself!” I start excitingly clapping to myself and smiling as wide as I can. “Now while I may be getting to listen to this early, this video will not hit my channel until the actual release date comes. Once everyone has access to it as well, then I will upload this video. As most of you know I listen to the whole album and then talk about it. What all I like about it, what stands out the most to me, etc. Still, at the end I’m going to give this album a honest review and what I would rate it from 1 to 10. So, let’s get started.”
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Third Person POV
The boys were called into one of the offices, and you could say that they were not feeling like this was going to be a good meeting. Even when they get to the room, they see their boss already there with a laptop. Chan getting ready to take the heat from their boss for the group gets stopped by JYP. “I didn't call you here because you did anything. I called you here for quite the opposite.” The boys were about to ask him what they were called in for, but their boss beat them to it. “I have something that I want you boys to watch. I think you will enjoy this. Just make sure to leave the laptop when you’re done and press play when you’re ready.” He tells them, leaving them with the laptop. Once he leaves the room and the boys can no longer hear his footsteps, they rush over to the laptop. They hesitate before pressing play, but what they see leaves them speechless.
It’s a video of Y/N and they see that their boss gave her early access to their comeback album. Before they get too far into the video, they get chairs so they can be comfortable while watching her listen to their music. Changbin brings up the idea of connecting the laptop to the projector so it's not crowded around a small screen. They all agree and fix everything where all they have to do is press play on the laptop. Once everything is set, Chan clicks on the play button. All attention turns to the screen showing their favorite YouTuber.
“So, Stray Kids newest comeback album is called Oddinary and I will edit in a picture of what the cover looks like.” She adds the picture of what their cover looks like before talking about it. “Just from looking at it, I would say that it looks pretty dope. Like a screen-like mannequin head with screws showing out of it. Their color scheme is green, black, silver and maybe some purple as well. The titles on the album are, in order, Venom. Maniac. Charmer.Freeze. Lonely St. Waiting For Us with Bang Chan, Lee Know, Seungmin, and I.N. Muddy Water with Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, and Felix. I really like all these song titles. I have a feeling that Waiting For Us is going to be a tearjerker, so I need to have my tissues on standby.”The boys start laughing and nudging each other. She bites her bottom lip while moving her cursor to the first song. “I’m going to listen to the songs in order, and I might save Waiting For Us last since I want to make sure Muddy Water gets a fair chance. Plus I would have a good cry at the end. Okay without further ado, let’s get started.” The boys watch and gauge her reaction to each song. She tells them that she will talk about each song after she listens to all of them. When she reaches the end, she stops from playing the last song. “Wow. I’m trying to save all my thoughts until after I listen to Waiting For Us. Why am I so nervous to listen to this? I know it’s going to be a good song, but I feel like this one might knock it out of the park.” She shakes her head. “Alright, let’s do this. I’ve got my tissues on hand.” The boys laugh with her. The music starts to play and her reaction right away changes.
Chan sees her go ahead and grab a tissue. Lee Know sees that her eyes start to look shiny. Changbin says that she’s gripping the tissue in her hand tightly. Hyunjin notices that she’s trying to keep her face neutral but fails smiling instead. Han watches as a stray tear falls down her face even though she’s happy. Felix’s eyes follow her hand as she wipes her face with the tissue. Seungmin looks as she replays the song again. I.N. watches as she closes her eyes listening deeply to the words while tears stream down her face. At the very end she takes off her headphones and looks off to the side then laughs to herself.
“I told you I was going to cry. I knew it was inevitable.” The boys smile at the girl on the screen, waiting for her review. “I’m going to give this mini album a 100 out of 10. It has some really great aspects to it. I love how fitting each song looks and feels to the title of the album. There was a reason why I left Waiting For Us last, because I knew I would fall in love with it and not want to listen to the other tracks. As it turns out I was right.” She and the boys laugh.
“One thing about listening to a song for the first time is, not all of them click with you right away. Everyone is different. Sometimes it may take a couple of listens before you think to yourself ‘I really dig this song.’ Others will like it right away. I would definitely say that I loved each song, but if there were a couple of songs that didn’t click right away were Venom and Muddy Water. Now, does that mean I don’t like those songs? No, I actually really enjoy them. That’s like the IN LIFE album. At first, The Tortoise and the Hare didn’t click with me. I loved the lyrics and the music, but there were a couple of parts in the song that threw me off. Now that song can be put on repeat and I wouldn’t get tired of hearing it over and over. Moral of all the nonsense I’m saying is that sometimes songs don’t click right away but they ended up being promising.”
The boys watching her intently wait for her final words. “I made two edits of this video since I knew I wanted to send one to the guys.” The boys freeze up as she looks straight into the camera before continuing. “Stray Kids. If you’re watching this right now, I want you to know how proud I am of all of you. You’ve come this far and you’re still doing an amazing job. You keep showing Stays each and everyday that you still have tricks up your sleeves.” She smiles at them. “Keep up the good work, but make sure you take care of yourselves. That means taking breaks, making sure you eat and getting the necessary sleep.” She points at the camera, “That means you too Christopher.” She raises her eyebrows. “Don’t make me fly over there and force you to sleep.” The boys start to tease their leader with her mocking words. He waves their hands away trying to listen to what she has to say. “Well that’s it for the video! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Until we see each other again. Bye!” She smiles waving at the camera.
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(A/N: I decided to add this in because why not 🤷🏻‍♀️ The reader gets first access to Stray Kids mini album and Stray Kids get early access of the reader reacting to their newest comeback. I’ll be doing a second part to this chapter specifically to the reader videoing herself opening the packages from her fans (Including the boys 🤪)
(With a special surprise 😏)
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xannsin · 2 days
Note
ghost
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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative sex, Praise
Précis: You just want to feel heard. And you were, but not just by him.
A/N: ‘ghost’ will do lmao, enjoy, @squimpsters & readers! :)
Edits & Look-overs: 2
Monday, 12:45 AM.
You're sitting down on your rather unpretentious bed in the barracks. It's so quiet that you can hear your heart thumping just a bit in your ears, but the silence is quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up to see Captain Price, standing above you. Your eyes meet his before he speaks in his stern tone,
“Your first task is night watch. Make sure nobody even gets close to base, that's all I have to say. Oh, and don't let Ghost intimidate you, L/N." and before you could even reply, Price spins on his heel and walks off. "Yes, sir..." you whisper to yourself as you were alone again. It was rather chilly out, and you were expecting the temperature to just decrease at the night went on. You put on your uniform as well as an extra undershirt due to the chilly weather. You stand up and dust yourself off before your thoughts return to what Price said. "Don't let Ghost intimidate you.”
What's that all about?
You step outside base, looking around for your night watch partner before spotting him when you turned a corner. He was leaning against a wall and was well aware of your presence for quite a bit now, but he only glanced at you once. “Hello,” you say in a cordial tone, but he just glances your way, looking you up and down as if he was judging you.  You shift uncomfortably. “Hello.” he replies after a few seconds, his tone cold and unwelcoming. 'Don't let him intimidate you,' you thought. “Well, 'low me to introduce myself. I'm Simon Riley, you can call me Ghost. I'm your lieutenant.” he adds, his voice just naturally menacing.
“Nice to meet you, Ghost.” you say, reaching out for a handshake. He stares at your hand for a few moments before reluctantly reaching his hand out. His handshake was firm. You could feel how strong his hands were through his gloves. “Let me remind you that night watch isn't a duty to be taken lightly, as it's to help protect against intruders and security breaches in-base.” Ghost says, letting go of your hand. "And we have to do this... a lot?” you ask.
“We're not always g'na be on night watch. It just depends on where we relocate to.” he replies. You nod your head, even though you still have so many unanswered questions. You think if you overload him with questions you'll come off as overbearing, so you remain quiet.
As the night goes on, you find yourself in a one-sided conversation. It's like talking to a brick wall with Ghost. It's obvious he doesn't open up right away, or maybe even at all. You're trying to find something entertaining to do because night watch is awfully tedious. “So, what's your story?” you ask, hoping he'd say something. Anything to break the silence. The awkward tension. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a quiet grunt which you could only assume meant 'don't wanna say'.
You sigh, slightly disappointed. This'll be a long night, no doubt, but you won't give up easily. “Well... how about-” you're cut off by the sound of his gravely voice “Listen, you seem like this nice person and all, but with all due respect, could'ya just shut up for a few minutes?" he sighed, not even looking at you once as he spoke. You remained silent for a few seconds, soaking in what he just said — it gave you some sort of perspective on who and how he was. Just a little. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.” you eventually say. He remained silent.
You just really wanted to dig a hole in the ground, crawl in it, and just hide at that point, but you had to remind yourself that your job currently isn't to socialize, it's to protect. That’s your priority. So, the whole night, you do just that. Sort of. You find yourself asking a few questions or two, and Ghost is starting to get so tired of it he just doesn't care.
“Why do you wear that balaclava?” you ask, hours already having passed rather quickly. “Can't share my identity,” Ghost replies curtly. “Why?” you ask right after. “Because I would be made a top target by enemies.” he sighs, “you're really startin' to piss me off.” he adds. You roll your eyes before going quiet again. This cycle repeated for the remaining three hours. Over the full night, he’d learned to tune you out, which was unfortunate for you because that just meant he wouldn’t listen to whatever you had to say, important or not.
Over the span of a month, you’ve grown frustrated. It’s obviously true that first impressions are important because they leave long lasting affects, minute or major. Ghost probably sees you as this chatterbox that won’t leave him alone, but, you can’t see that that’s not the case.
One night, a little over a month after, you’re on night watch again, right beside Ghost. You’re silent, which is a little surprising to him. A part of him wants you to say something but he doesn’t admit that and never will, his pride gets in the way of that. He wouldn’t admit he tolerated you more than he tolerated others. You annoyed him, sure, but you were consistent about it. Usually people he pushed away would just give up, but you, you just…
You didn’t give up. You always checked up on him after missions, patting him all over worriedly to check if anything was hurting behind that gear, always talked to him and he listened. He was growing soft on you, and he hated it. He hated the feeling of being close to someone, it made him feel like there was some sort of warmth in his heart like how someone in love would feel.
Jumping back to now, you’re standing beside him on night watch. He glares at you every few seconds until it catches your attention. “What?” you ask, almost chuckling. “Wha — nothing.” Ghost mumbles, looking away and fidgeting subtly with his pistol before placing it back in his holster. Your attention is on him now. “Something bothering you?” you ask. “It’s nuthin’, Y/N.” he breathes out. “But you’re all fidgety. What’s wrong?” you inquire, but no answer that time either. “Let it go, yeah?” Ghost murmurs. You shrug and put your hands up before putting them back down and looking away from him. There goes the silence again. You’ve been realizing a main factor you talk to Simon so much is because you don’t necessarily enjoy the silence between you two. It makes you uncomfortable, and you don’t know why. You thought you were going to be the first to break the silence, but —
“Beautiful night, innit?” Ghost utters. You pause for a moment, “uh… yeah. Yeah, it is.” you reply. The two of you look at each other for a couple moments. You stare into his breathtaking eyes, almost mesmerized by them before he looks away. You clear your throat awkwardly, crossing your arms as you sigh. “Are the nights always like this? This peaceful?” you ask, making Ghost’s head spin to look at you. “Mhm. I go out here for ‘night watch’ just to relax out here.” he replies, making you raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘relax out here’? How are you relaxed while on night watch?” you ask. “Yea'. You didn’t hear this from me, but night watch isn’t necessary for where we’re located currently.” he replies, looking at you as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his tattoos and light healed scars that aren’t too visible at a first glance.
“Wait, what?” you ask. “How’s it not necessary? Captain Price assigned me to-” “Price lied then, didn’e? I guess he just wanted you to have some form of responsibility because you’re not ready for the missions and real duties yet, and he sees it. Jus’ my train of thought.” Ghost interrupts. You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed before opening your mouth to speak, and you’re interrupted again. “I wouldn’t complain either. Just do your duty and you’ll get a real one in no time.” Ghost says. You cross your arms and scoff, “Whatever.” You could hear Ghost chuckling under his breath, as if he was laughing at your expense. You decide not to comment on it because you’re not trying to start anything with him.
12:00 AM, Two hours later
You’re exhausted. Your eyes are threatening to close shut and never open for a good while at any minute. Your body aches with fatigue, and overall, you’re just ready to go to bed. Ghost is doing perfectly fine, he just shifts his position every once in a while due to standing in the same position for a long time, but other than that, he’s fine. He glances at you and sees your state, causing his eyebrows to furrow. “Tired, are we?” Ghost chuckles. You’re too tired to reply, you just rub your eyes and groan quietly. “Tsk, so this is what you’ll do on a mission? Fall asleep?” he sighs, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to his side.
You’ve never been touched like this by him before, but you’re not exactly against the feeling. You rest your head on the side of his chest, letting out a heavy sigh. Ghost began rubbing your shoulder with his big gloved palm, letting out a sigh himself. He closed his eyes tightly, screaming on the inside. Why was he enjoying this moment? What happened to ‘Ghost’, the world's second-most desired British clandestine operative? He just feels like a little kid in a candy store right now. That’s the effect you have on him, and he hates it.
He lifts up the arm he’s not holding you with to look at his watch. It’s already morning, 12:04 AM. “Guess night watch is over.” he sighs, looking down at you and noticing your breathing is slow and relaxed. You fell asleep. He lets out a frustrated sigh before picking you up and hoisting you over his shoulder with ease. He felt you instinctively hold onto him before drifting back off to sleep. He chuckled under his breath, his arm under your ass as he carried you back to base.
Once he stepped through the door, it was oddly quiet aside from the clanks of glass. Probably Price having a drink. Ghost sighs as he walks to the barracks where he’d plop you down on your bed. He put his hand on the bed handle, staring at you. He bit his lip subtly, his teeth grazing over his bottom lip as he watched your restful state. He draped the thin blanket over you, watching as you shifted slightly and curled up into a ball. He sighed and walked to his bed, which was across from yours. He lay down, feeling pretty restless with all the thoughts running through his head. Most pretty much being about you. He looked around and saw the barracks were empty besides you and him being in it. Everyone was probably having their drinks.
He grunted and reached down, resting his hand on his crotch. He rubbed his bulge with his thumb, breathing out quietly. He thought about how your hands would feel on his. Those beautiful, soft hands. He palmed his bulge, groaning under his breath as he did so.
Wait. No. This is wrong.
“God, Simon, you’re pathetic,” he muttered under his breath. “Just go to bed,” he thought. He let go of his grip, his hand slightly trembling. He sat up, took off his vest, before laying back down and rolling over.
The next night was the same, night watch. Same time, same place. The two of you were standing next to each other, except a little closer this time. It was more comfortable, too. Ghost adjusted his earpiece and you did the same. “Night watch is so mundane,” you eventually sigh. “No-one ever said it was going to be fun, did they?” Ghost responded, looking at you. “Ghost-”
“Simon,” he interrupts, “just call me Simon.”
You look at him, confused, but you nod nevertheless. “Okay, Simon. Simon, I think that I should be trusted enough to have an actual responsibility, don’t you think?” you ask. He pauses for a few moments, sighing. “You just need to prove that you are. ‘Trusted enough’ isn’t in our dictionary here, you know that. I may trust you but that doesn’t mean everyone else does.” he says. You shrug. He’s not really wrong. He looked at you before looking at your hand. “C’mere.” Simon said, taking you by the hand and pulling you close to him. “What’re you doing..?” you ask, your eyes wide. He didn’t reply for a while. You heard him curse under his breath, the word muffled by his mask. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you take that mask off? Just take it off,” you say. “Show my face?” Simon asked. You nod. “Negative.” he says. “Are you ugly?” you ask. He scoffs and lifts his mask up to his mouth, “Quite the opposite.” he grinned before taking you by the chin and leaning in, pressing his lips against yours. You flinch from shock, but you quickly return the kiss. The tension was finally dissipating. Maybe all the two of you needed was this. The tension was palpable for the past few month or two.
His tongue slips inside of your mouth, letting you taste him for the first time. You become weak at the knees, and he realizes it. Simon quickly sweeps you off your feet, picking you up and pinning you against the base’s wall. He stood in between your legs with your back pressed against the wall, your tongues swirling together sensually. The taste of his mouth causes a moan to slip out your throat involuntarily. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as the two of you continue making out. Your bodies were flush against each other’s, and you felt Simon slowly grinding against you, feeling his bulge pressing between your thighs.
You two break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Simon panted softly, looking at you in the eyes. You reached over and put your thumb on his cheek, rubbing softly. Your fingers trail up at the edge of his balaclava, and your eyes asked for permission to remove it. Simon hesitated, but eventually he nodded softly. You slip off his balaclava, revealing the most handsome face you’ve ever seen. The brown hair, brown eyes, handsome face… you leaned in to kiss him again. Both of his hands move from your thighs to your ass, causing your legs to wrap around his waist even tighter. Simon broke off the kiss to begin kissing your jawline, sucking softly and leaving small red marks in his wake. He tilts his neck down further to kiss your shoulder blades, bringing out a soft gasp from you as he bit down and licked the mark. It’s like he was marking his territory.
All of a sudden, he put you down. He started taking off your gear, one by one. He wasn’t gentle about it, either — he wanted what he wanted, and he was going to get it. He finally got your upper gear off, leaving you in your undershirt and bra. He lifted your shirt above your head before tossing it onto the pile on the ground of everything he took off. He removed your boots and your pants with everything else on it. You were a little cold, but the warmth he gave you quickly made up for it. Simon began slipping his pants off with haste, just leaving them at his ankles.
“Turn around.” Simon commanded, and you obliged. You turned around and let out a small gasp as he bent you over. You could feel his bulge through his boxers poking at your sex through your panties. You put your hands on the wall of the base as you stayed bent over. Your legs begin trembling as your panties are quickly slipped off to your ankles. There it is. You feel Simon’s heavy cock slapping against your ass cheek, wetting it slightly with his pre-cum. “P-please be gentle, I haven’t had sex in-”
“No promises.” Simon interrupts, stroking his thick tip against your dripping wet cunt. He rubs his cock against it, doing everything but slipping inside of you. You whine at his teasing strokes, wanting to feel his cock fill you to the brim. “I want to hear you beg for it.” Simon says, placing his hand on your ass and squeezing. “Please, Si… put it in… please…” you beg. Simon smirked at your pathetic words and noises, but he gave in nevertheless. “You got it,” he whispered before slipping his tip inside of you, slowly thrusting in. You whined at the intrusion, and he reached forward and held you by the neck gently, rubbing a spot in your neck with his thumb as he took you from behind.
You whimper, keeping your hands placed on the wall for support. Your legs trembled as his hips snapped against your ass, groaning as you felt him go deeper with every thrust. He was only halfway in but it felt like so much already. “Si..mon…” you pant out, letting out choked out moans as he fucks you roughly. Your eyes fluttered closed, he was fucking you senseless. “Shh, good girl. You’re doing good.”
He began bottoming out inside you, nestling his cock tightly in your warm heat. Your walls convulsed against his dick, tightening and untightening around him. He grunted out in pleasure, placing both hands on your waist. He traced circles on them, continuing to pound you. Your juices slicked his cock, making him slide in and out of you easier. He grinned at the mewls of pleasure you let out, those pathetic little noises. “So needy,” he purred, gathering a fistful of your hair before holding onto it as he continued pounding into you.
He looked down, his face focused on where he fucked you. He watched his cock disappear into your cunt with every thrust, which turned him on even more than he was, if that was possible. You let out desperate noises as you felt his cock pulsate inside of you. You let out soft whines, “I can’t.. I can’t…”
“You can take it, baby. You can.” Simon cooed, pressing his hand on your back. You whine as you feel your climax approaching, your juices already beginning to leak onto his cock. Simon was so close, he could feel his balls pulsate. With a couple of more thrusts into you, he finally released, and so did you.
His hot cum spilled into you, your juices and his cum mixing, making a sticky mess. You whined weakly, and Simon grunted loudly, his muscles tensing and flexing as he pulled you close to him, his chest pressing against your back. He kissed your neck, whispering sweet praises to you.
The two of you got dressed and checked the time, it was past twelve. Time to go back to base. The two of you walked back to base, and you saw everyone in Task Force 141 standing in front of the two of you. You froze in place and Simon raised an eyebrow. Price walked up to you two before taking both of your earpieces out of your ears, turning the microphone from on to off on them.
“Had a good time, I’m assuming?”
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stalker!reader/unsub!reader for spencer reid
tw: mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of murder, usual CM gore, suicide.
-noticing him one day when he was at your job for a case asking questions about a victim/killer. i’m gonna say season 4 reid (before he gets shot in the leg). you were stuck to the shadows just observing him and his colleague when boom! his eyes meet yours and you feel a spark, your body tingles. he noticed you.
-he walks away from his colleague who was talking with your boss, towards you, hands in his pockets and this long wavy hair swaying with his motions. he stopped three steps away from you and said, “hello, i’m doctor reid, with the fbi. i was wondering if i could ask some questions about…” his voice was deep and smooth, he pulled you into a hypnotic trance. you just nodded and answered his questions honestly.
-he came back a second time, just saying that the case was over. that was it, you weren’t even personally involved, but he came back for you. he must’ve felt that same spark, that pull to someone magnetic. he even gave you his card and said, “if you even are in area or in need of help, just ask for me.” now how could you not be obsessed with that man after that.
-so you started to follow all the cases the fbi or bau was mentioned, hoping for a glimpse of the names spencer or dr. reid. you kept a folder of photos captured of him from news footage or newspaper articles, red inked hearts circled his head while anyone else was harshly scrubbed away in black ink. his gentle smiles or lovely eyes pierced at your heart each time, it was slowly bleeding into your lungs filling you up to suffocation. you need spencer reid.
-when cases went quiet you started to search relentlessly for him online. you forced yourself to ingest every thesis paper he’s ever written and watch any lecture that was posted. he drew you in with the wave of his hands or how he would ramble then bring himself back to the topic at hand. how you wanted to pick his brain, just sit and listen to him for hours taking about anything he’s stored away.
-it’s been a year since that case. you miss him, you want him in your grasp. maybe you should put that business card to use and just call it, that’d be a lot easier. so you mustered up the courage, pulling the card from your wallet and dialing his number you breathed slowly and pressed call. the line rang three times before it picked up and you heard his voice, “dr. reid, how can i help?”
“uh, this is y/n…” he said he’d remember you so you just gave your name for recognition. the line was quiet for three seconds and you could hear some faint chatter on his end before he responded, “i’m sorry, i- i don’t seem to-“ and you hung up the call before he could break your heart further. he lied.
-it was like you just went through a breakup for a relationship that wasn’t even real. your bleeding heart completely cracked and spilled like fire through your veins. spencer reid is going to regret ever forgetting you and his promise. so you started to do some studying, researching past cases with the bau involved, looking for inspiration from convicted killers
-you find some that were unique but still easy to accomplish with your own physic in play. most of these killers were men, stronger and taller than you. you start to craft your calling cards, poems and roses, anything symbolic to a relationship and heartbreak. you’re nervous your first night on the hunt. you decide to go a bar and wait for someone to make their way into your web.
-you’d dance on them and kiss them, closing your eyes shut and imagining this it what spencer would taste like, how his hands trailing over your curves would release butterflies in your belly. his breath ghosting along your pulse before sucking a bruise into your skin. “wanna get out of here?” seductive eyes watching your toy nod and drag you behind him out the club, heading to his place.
-the make out session was hot and getting steamy, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. you played the kinky card, “gonna tie you up and gag you, be a good boy.” left in nothing but his boxers he was bond and gagged. playing a teasing game you left him alone while looking for some type of weapon. pulling a pair of black gloves from your clutch and the pointiest knife from a drawer you dragged yourself back to his bed, straddling him at the waist, keeping your hands behind your back. “you’ve made this night very special. wanna know why?” playing coy while pulling the gag down from a second.
the toy cocked a brow with a shit eating smirk, “of course, doll face.” his eyes dropping to your chest and it caused you to grimace. “you’re the first victim of many.” whispered as you slid the fabric back into his mouth
“wait wh-“ muffled when you stabbed him with an angered forced into his heart. his screams were still loud but with music playing in the background and his mouth full, no one would be the wiser.
-you called in sick for the next few days, needing to be consistent for the bau to be called in. you’d go to clubs or even strip clubs, any place that’d have willing men bring you home preying on you while you were the pretender. you kept the killings pretty simple, just stabs to the heart and letting them bleed out, you started to draw heart on their walls from their blood, the red turning black when drying. and finally before leaving a folded note with a poem or a piece of your soul written out was safety pinned to their skin.
-the news started to call you ‘the heartbreak killer’ stupid, but they always wanted to give killers case names. adding a new flare to your lastest kill, you’ve scattered red and white rose petals over their body and a ruby red kiss to their cheek. your fifth victim in a week period. you had a hunger for it now, killing gave you an adrenaline rush that was better than any rollercoaster or scary movie, you vibrate with excitement each night. you started dressing more bolder, wearing wigs even, making sure you stood out for anyone that was connected to your toy of the night.
- “we’ve called in the fbi behavior analysis unit to help us find this serial killer. with them here we plan to catch them before there is another victim.” goosebumps scattered over your forearms hearing the sheriff’s announcement. finally, he’s here. your spencer reid came for you. “in do time, my love. we’ll be reunited properly.”
-you took a sixth life the night they arrived, wanting them to know your usual stalking grounds. it would be easier to ‘accidentally’ bump into spencer, rather than actively search him out. so the next day you dressed down, wanting to look more normal, become a wallflower. you were nursing a drink in a shaded corner with watching eyes surveying the crowed hoping to see the tall dr. reid. “uh, excuse me, miss.” your heart skipped a beat, it recognized his voice even over the thumping music rattling your skull.
you turned his way casually and said, “you’re very pretty,” sipping on the black straw of your soda. spencer smiled hesitantly and floundered for a response, “uh tha- thank you. i’m dr. spencer reid i work with the fbi-“ he flashed his badge and you caught a glimpse of a younger photo, “there’s been a series of murders in the area and we suspect the killer visits here. have you seen anything suspicious lately?”
your nostrils flared, he still didn’t remember you not even face to face. “well all men are suspicious in clubs,” dulled chuckles at your retort. you saw spencer’s eyebrows quirked, “are- are you by yourself?” he sounded concerned for a stranger, but you weren’t a stranger. “yeah, my friends left me a few hours ago but i just didn’t want to go home yet.” shrugging him off.
he licked his lips, “well i’d suggest not visiting his establishment for the time being.” “but all her victims are men, so i’m safe. but thanks for the concern, nice to meet you doctor.” and you left the crowded bar with a smirk knowing you gave him a hint.
-you went to work the following day, just telling your coworkers you came down with food poisoning and needed and extra day to recover. they cooed over you but you knew most of them didn’t care, its fine you weren’t planning to stay here forever like most. you were cleaning tables and fixing displays when there was a tap to your shoulder. brittany, a coworker, pointed over her shoulder and said, “there’s a spencer reid here to see you. says he’s with the fbi.” you had to repress your smile.
“dr. reid, pleasure to see you again.” a welcoming smile and open posture. he cocked his head, “i- i remember you. from last year…” it’s like you could see his gears turning and clicking things into place. you didn’t bother denying anything just saying, “wow, what a great memory you have.”
his round eyes stared into your soul, “eidetic memory. you called me a month ago…” now you showed confusion, “no i didn’t. sadly lost your card, but i’m safe. we should have dinner while you’re here.” being bold.
spencer nodded his head, “that sounds nice. tomorrow night works for me, i could meet you here.” he seemed excited to have a romantic date with you. your heart raced, “it’s a date.” and you headed back to your work.
-you changed into date appropriate clothing once you clocked out and waited five minutes outside before you saw the tall spencer reid walking up to your side. he had a sweater vest over a button up with a tie around his neck, his gun wasn’t holstered to his hip for the night and his hair was a bit wind swept. you could eat him up.
“bet you have a bunch of girls after you while away on cases.” walking beside him when he suggested an chinese restaurant just down the block. he chuckled, oh your heart stuttered at the melody, “not really. most people don’t like my… personality.” sneaking a glance at you.
“well they’re missing out, but happy since i’m the lucky girl at your side.” looping an arm through his and pulling his close so you could lean your head onto his bicep. “i’ve dreamed of this since you left.” sighing into the air then pressing a kiss to his fabric covered skin, later you’ll get to taste him.
- “i have a question for you.” it’s been an hour into your date, stomach filled with delicious food and effortless conversation. you nodded at spencer to go forward. “at the bar you said the unsub was a women, what made you think that? no sex has been mentioned in the news yet.”
you pursed your lips in thought, “well, stabs to the heart seems emotionally personal. and the hearts in blood and rose petals, along with her leaving love poems. only a hopeless romantic that was horribly heartbroken would do this art.” slurping noodles into your mouth for punctuation. you weren’t trying to hide your truth, “it was the only way to get your attention.”
- “my attention?” spencer questioned. “well, i’ve missed you and when i tried calling-“ “so that was you.” “and you lied about remembering me!” slamming a fist onto the tabletop forcing it to shake. you leaned in close, “i thought we had something special. you didn’t bother trying to reach me in anyway and i’ve stayed updated with your career.”
“i- im sorry, y/n. my job is just very demanding. i would’ve reached out. i- i didn’t think you felt the way i did.” spencer stretched a hand over the table and rested it atop yours, his long fingers curling along your wrist.
“oh baby, the spark when we first met was instant. i was devoted to you the moment our eyes met, i’d do anything for you.” allowing your other hand to creep up spencer’s arm. “i’d kill myself for you if you asked, i’ve killed for you. would you do the same for me?” doeing your eyes and pouting your lips.
spencer leaned forward, his eyes dropping to your lips then back to your eyes, “anything for you, my love.” whispered just between the two of you. you smiled wickedly, “wanna head to my place?”
-once your door was unlocked and open you pounced onto spencer, hands holding his cheeks so you could press your lips onto his. his palms gripped at your hips and pulled your flush to his chest as his mouth devoured yours, moans ripped from your throat.
“fbi! hands in the air!” heavy footsteps and loud shouts broke the air. you didn’t bother acknowledging them, just submerging yourself into spencer until his arms twisted you around and held you in a tight hug. “don’t fight them. stay alive for me.” spencer whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.
-six months. you’ve been institutionalized for six months since your lawyer pleaded insanity to the court. said you did everything because you started to stalk and become obsessive with doctor spencer reid. you didn’t bother mentioning that the killings made you feel stable. you’ve been sentenced for twenty five years to life, chances of parole after fifteen years. your family rarely visited you, you didn’t care. you only enjoyed visitation when he was there.
“the doctor is here.” an officer pulled you from the library to bring you into the visitation center. nervously you fiddled with your hair, straightening your beige uniform, wanting to appear put together for your boyfriend. he wasn’t your actual boyfriend, but he allowed you to call him that.
“hi baby.” sidling into your seat across from him, a gigantic smile hurting your cheeks. he wore his standard outfit, sweater vest over a long sleeve button up, no tie today and his collarbones were on display for you along with his forearms. “you look very sexy today.”
“and you look quite pretty today.” spencer visits you once a week at most, sometimes twice if he’s already in the state for a case. you heard it was cause your psychiatrist told him that your symptoms were worse if he was gone for long periods at a time causing you to act out and harm yourself or others. but you know it’s cause he loves you.
“what book are you reading today?” jerking his head to the worn spine. you peered down at the titles with a twisted smile then looked him dead in the eyes, “romeo and juliet. quiet the love story don’t you think?”
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schemmentis · 2 days
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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 16
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15
Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour
WC: 2k
Summary: The Howards receive an overdue visit; You and Melissa might finally be on the same page again...
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As luck would have it, today is the day that Danik and Shaw decide to bombard the senator with questions, almost as soon as Barbara enters the office.
“Senator Howard,” Danik greets.
“Hello,” Gerald smiles easily at the two of them as he pulls out the containers with food in them. “What can I do for you?”
“We were hoping we would be able to speak with you and your wife about a few things.”
“Of course, although you are catching me on a busy day, and I am about to have lunch with Barbara,” the senator tells them. He gestures to the food in front of them in emphasis. 
Shaw flashes the FBI badge. “This can’t wait.”
Barbara’s brows creep up her forehead. This is clearly in connection with your family. But Gerald is unaware that any of this is going on, so he assumes it has to do with something else.
“Ask away, but the two of us will be enjoying our lunch.”
“What do you know about the Schemmenti family?” Danik gets right to the point.
“The Schemmentis?” Gerald repeats. “A lovely family. Melissa owns Twelve Tables and does a damn good job, and Y/N has owned that salon of hers for years now. Babs used to go there before the woman who specialized in textured hair. The two girls that they have together are precious- really just little angels walking this earth. Why?”
“And what do you know about the Schemmenti family, Mrs. Howard?” Shaw turns to the woman who holds the ledger.
“The same as my husband,” Barbara says, and she prays they don’t hear the slight waver in her voice. “A lovely, driven family. Why do you ask?”
“How do you know them?”
“They attend the same church as us, and have for years,” Gerald tells the two. “We’ve watched them grow together and bring those two little ones into the world. They’re excellent parents- always bringing two happy, well-dressed and well behaved little ones into church on Sundays.”
Danik and Shaw glance at each other. As far as they know, neither Howard knows anything of your other lives that you lead.
“Very well.”
“Why are you so concerned with the Schemmentis?” Gerald presses again.
“We have reason to believe that they are not who you think they are,” Shaw states.
Gerald’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “What possible reason could you have to believe that?” He asks, incredulous.
“We can’t discuss specifics of an ongoing investigation, Senator Howard. I’m sure you understand.” Danik answers.
“I do.” Gerald easily agrees, except a moment later he’s walking around his desk towards the door of his office. “I’ll say one more thing, on the record, Agents.” He pauses as he looks between both Danik and Shaw. “Whatever you think you know about the Schemmentis; you don’t. It’s my job as much as it is yours to take care of the criminals on our streets. I’m sure you’re fully aware of all my campaigning and the attempts to do just that. The Schemmentis? Are not criminals. Now, please, leave me and my wife to our lunch in peace.” He finishes, opening the door and waving the both of them out.
Gerald shuts the door after the agents, staring at the wood in confusion for a moment. Then he shakes his head, turning back towards his desk, and his wife. “Can you believe that?” He mutters as he passes Barbara for his chair behind the desk. “The Schemmentis? Not who we think they are?” He scoffs as he unwraps one set of the plastic silverware provided with the takeout which he hands to Barbara. “Neither one of them could hide a thing. They both wear everything on their sleeves.”
Barbara clears her throat, murmuring a ‘thank you’ to her husband who passes her silverware pre-opened. “It’s…a ridiculous notion that they aren’t good people.” She finally says. She doesn’t say much else during their lunch, although she knows that she’ll have to confess what she knows about your family later- in the comfort of her own home.
The rest of their lunch is spent quietly, Gerald going on about a few projects he’s working on while Barb tells him how her morning went; going to church and running into you, although she leaves out the part where she told you what she knows.
“See?” Gerald asks. “If they weren’t good people, Y/N wouldn’t be at church on a Monday morning.”
Barbara just hums.
At home, you and Melissa have no idea what you’re going to do, and by the time you have to pick up the girls, you’re just as lost as you were that morning.
“Shit,” you grumble as you head out to gather the girls from school.
The drive is silent until Melissa takes your hand gently. “Honey, I really am sorry for how I acted over the weekend… I- I shouldn’t have gone over your head, and when you confronted me about it, I shouldn’t have doubled down and hit you where it hurt.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” is what you offer her.
“I truly am sorry they took the salon out from under you, and I’m sorry they put me in charge, and I hope you know that you absolutely are not worthless when it comes to the girls; you contribute so much, and Cat and Rosie are lucky to have you as their Mam.”
You take your eyes off the road for a split second, giving your wife a soft look. “Thank you.”
When the girls run out of the school, they’re thrilled to see that you’re back to holding Melissa by the waist and whatever mother drama was going on between the two of you is settled. They launch themselves into your arms with giggles and rapid explanations of the ‘so crazy tag game’ they were playing at recess.
You wrangle them to the car, and when you pull off, you don’t head in the direction of your home. Instead, you take them to Twelve Tables.
“Really?” Melissa asks you quietly.
You shrug and squeeze her hand. “Having them around is the best bet right now to keep everything under wraps… and we both know that if something does happen, someone will protect our girls here.”
As Melissa works in the back of Twelve Tables, you worry about your girls at your usual table. Your eyes wander a bit more than usual around the dining room every now and again. Just to be safe. You marvel at the fact your wife is diving into business like normal tonight. You’ve always admired her ability to seem so at ease even when she’s stressed—until she snaps, anyway. 
Anyone else has no idea. You do though. When she greets her elder regulars that have come in at night instead of lunch; her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. When Valentina or the rest of her crew tease and joke; she joins in but her laugh is the one you know isn’t entirely real. 
You referee the girls fighting over the purple crayon; reminding them they do have two. The other had merely fallen off the table. At the same time, your mind turns over what you can do. Your options are limited. Still, if you don’t do something you know you’re not doing what you’ve always sworn you’d do. Protect your family at all costs. Your family. Not the family.
By the time Melissa is sitting next to you on her dinner break, squished as close to your side as she can get, you’ve grasped that of your limited options there’s really only one that is logical and safe to take. Your arm wraps around her waist, your other hand picking at your plate. Your appetite is nonexistent. You glance at the twins, finding them gleefully occupied with the small dinner plates Melissa had brought out for them. Swapping and trading as if they don’t have the same chicken nuggets. Apparently the shape matters and only one of them can have that one, and they’ve decided which of them, too.
You turn your head back to Melissa, kissing her temple and leaning your head briefly against the side of hers. She leans more to your side in silent response even as her fork still twirls the pasta on her own plate. “I think we have to do what nobody in the Family would ever say they’d do.” You murmur, your lips against the apple of your wife’s cheek.
“Yeah,” Melissa sighs, turning just enough to briefly kiss your lips. “I was thinkin’ the same thing. If we do it ourselves before they figure it out…we can give the information for no jail time.” 
“It’s the only way we can still be here. For the girls.” You say, your tone soft and quiet enough your giggling twins don’t hear or recognize you’re speaking about them. 
Melissa’s hand reaches to cradle your cheek, her thumb gently passing over skin. “For the girls.” She echoes before kissing you again. It’s only then that she returns to her meal, nudging you with her elbow in silent insistence you eat some yourself.
You’ve hardly spoken through the details; something you’re sure you’ll do once the girls are in bed tonight. Yet, you know with certainty you’re on the same page. For what feels like the first time since this whole mess started. You press one more kiss to red locks at the side of Melissa’s head before picking your fork up once more. You’re going to turn yourselves in. You’re going to flip on Cosa Nostra. 
You take the girls home and get them to bed before your wife gets home. When she enters, she makes a beeline for the girls’ room. You can hear her speaking to their sleeping figures in Italian, telling them how much she loves them and that Mommy will start being home earlier again. And then she’s curling up next to you on the couch and offering a glass of wine.
“How are we going to do this?” Melissa asks you quietly. “Without getting murdered in the process.”
You sigh. “I have no idea. But I know we need the ledger from Barb, so you have to get it from her.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow,” she promises you. “I think… I don’t know. If we flip, there isn’t a chance in hell someone isn’t going to come after us.”
Neither of you says it, but you know that word tends to travel relatively quickly within the family, and if someone finds out you’ve flipped… you will be murdered. That’s almost guaranteed.
The two of you sit in silence, both trapped in your thoughts until you decide to head to bed. She curls up behind you, spooning you, before kissing your shoulder, and then the spot behind your ear. You shiver at her touch, and her hands start to wander as she leaves a few marks- ones where your girls won’t be able to see.
You turn around in her hold. “Baby, not tonight.” You lay your head on her chest as you tangle your legs together.
 Melissa presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “I love you- and I’ll always love you, no matter what might happen to us.”
You just sigh softly before leaning up and kissing her softly before laying your head back down.
Neither of you get a great deal of sleep, both of your minds whirling with what fate has in store for you.
But motherhood never ceases, and your alarm starts ringing to signal that you need to get the girls up and to school.
Today is a day that you both take the girls, cherishing the way that they’re smiling and giggling like nothing is wrong- because nothing is wrong in their worlds. But you? You don’t know how much longer you have with them, so you soak up every second you have with them. You take in the laughter and the hugs, soak up each kiss that is planted to your face no matter how wet and slobbery. When they have to enter their classroom, you hug them extra tight, praying that you’ll see them again at the end of their school day.
And then you and your wife are off to the church, praying that you can catch Barbara Howard. 
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terristre · 7 months
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skrunksthatwunk · 4 months
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sometimes you need to go back and listen to the music you liked when you were 13 because it's good for you. and no im not talking about like emo nostalgia in this case we have enough posts about that. im talking about dad rock. actually im just talking about barenaked ladies
#idk if i'd call barenaked ladies dad rock per se but every once in a while i'll hear a song and go MAN. I REMEMBER THAT#i had so many oc animatics in my head about this one....#anyway skrunk lore moment but i had a really intense bnl phase for like 8 months in early middle school which explains a lot about 13 y/o me#in a neutral way but like. yeah. anyway go listen to box set for me.#you don't have to listen to anything else even though i still have a great fondness for a lot of it bc it's one of those things where it's#so familiar to me that i don't even know if i think it's good or not. but box set goes hard and i'll stand by that#in the car and hello city and i'll be that girl and spider in my room AND CALL ME CALMLY and blame it on me and alternative girlfriend and#the flag and when i fall and the king of bedside manor and am i the only one.... ohgh#AND YES IT'S BASIC BUT IF I HAD $1000000 IS COZY. IT'S CUTE OK#OH and it's all been done for all your immortal/reincarnation ship needs. well. a certain vibe anyway#and alcohol. and OH MY GOD I FORGOT JANE. AND INTERMITTENTLY and break your heart.... waaaaaaa#man they have way way more albums than i thought they had#i can only really speak for gordon born on a pirate ship and maybe you should drive actually but. i like those#or i Did like them. havent relistened but even looking at the titles is making me giggly like... i forgot some of these#ALSO SHOEBOX IS A FRIENDS SONG?? WHUH?#or maybe it was used in friends? idk. no thoughts on friends but they did music for just the dumbest shit. ignore that for me please#ANYWAY. going to go listen to all of that now bc im having a moment. if you listen to it and don't like it um. don't think less of me lol <3
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ja3yun · 26 days
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
2K notes · View notes
hoshigray · 28 days
Note
Are you able to right a gojo fic? He pulls you aside after a meeting to a spicy makeout with you that leads to more than just a make out:,)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: "more than a make out" indeed, lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit reader; minors DNI - canon divergence; you're gojo's partner who works in Tokyo jujutsu tech with him - kissing; making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - breast sucking - deep impact position - praising - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Ijichi and Yaga - Gojo is a touch-starved fool, bless him lol.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k
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“Y/n~~!”
“…! Oh, Gojo!”
“Ahh, it’s Gojo-sensei!”
Being the strongest sorcerer in the modern world is a hassle, no matter how much Gojo loves to shake it off as if it’s not. Not that he doesn’t mind it — no, no. If anything, he prides himself in it. It fills his ego, knowing that a scarce few could be compatible with his power. He’s a dependable light for the jujutsu world, sorcerers of the nation thankful that he's not on the wrong side. 
But alas, being the best has its taxing side, especially taking in tedious missions across the land and attending mandatory meetings with the entire jujutsu faculty body — not to mention being a teacher. The white-haired sorcerer was a busy man — no other way to explain it. However, the worst thing about it all was that there would be times when he’d have less time to spend with a certain someone who had him in the palm of their hands. And if he keeps being away from them, he might – no, will – malfunction. 
You were Gojo’s partner, his sweet baby that he cherished more than anything. You were a faculty member of Tokyo Jujutsu High, making things a little easier for the two of you to meet and elope (professionally). Nevertheless, those moments seem to frequent less and less with how many meetings have Gojo backed up this past week. The poor guy can’t even remember the last time he heard your sweet voice (which is a lie since you call every morning and night; he makes sure you do). 
Although, today would be different. Once this meeting with the Kyoto officials ended, he made a straight beeline out of the room to find you. And to his cheerful chuckle, he skips in your direction when he sees you conversing with Yuuji in the hallway. The salmon-haired teen greets his teacher with a high-five and a bow from you. 
Yuuji hears Megumi call for him from outside, so the boy dismisses himself with a goodbye and wanders off, leaving you and Gojo to yourselves. 
“Hello, Y/n~,” the man says your name with a happy tune, his lanky figure swaying to be close to you.
“Good noon, Gojo,” you greet him again with a modest smile as the tall man walks to you. “How was your meeting? Did the officials give you a tough ti—Mmmph!?”Your boyfriend surprises you with a kiss, taking in your perplexed moan with his pillowy lips. One peck comes after another while Gojo’s hands sneak to your waist. You quickly push him away, but his hold keeps you close to his figure. “G–Gojo, what are you doing!?” You express your concern in confusion, covering your lips with a hand. 
“Mmm? What do you mean? I’m greeting my princess with a kiss,” the blindfolded man says so matter-of-factly, beaming his delighted demeanor that nearly blinds you. “I miss you!”
“I miss you, too, but you can’t just—“ He tilts his head as you try to explain. You chew your lip with cheeks boosting in warmth, averting your glance away from his charming face that’s inching closer and closer to yours. His eyes are masked by the black cloth around his face; however, you can still sense the intensity of his gaze. “N-Not in public, Gojo...”
He plays the whining card, bringing you in for a tight hug that could restrain your breathing. “Ehhh, but I haven’t seen or touched you in days! See, we’ve been apart for so long that you’re going back to referring to me by my last name!”
“I always call you by your family name when in the school, no??”
“Yeah, but that’s only for when people are around, not just the two of us!” His complaints are genuine, swaying around with you in his arms. You roll your eyes, listening to him yap more. “Come on, Y/n; it’s been such a hectic week for me, missions after missions, meetings after meetings. Any more than this, and I just might combust — especially when I don’t have time to see my angel.”
You hear him make fake crying noises to your shoulder, reminding yourself how much your tall, strong boyfriend can be such a whiny puppy if he’s away from you for too long. But you can’t kid yourself; you missed spending time with him just as much as he did. “I know; I wanna see you more often, too. Don’t you worry, okay? This week is almost over, so keep pushing through like the tough man you are…Hehe, my strong Satoru.”
The snow-haired sorcerer springs up with a childish smile at the use of his name, his dimples present with the shine of his teeth. “If that’s what must happen, can your strong Satoru ask for another kiss to make his hell a little bearable?”
You give him a look at his request, but his anticipation doesn’t falter. With a sigh, you smile and whisper, “Just a kiss, Satoru?”
He chuckles lightly, drawing his mouth close to yours. “Yes, princess.”
His soft lips land on yours. There’s no restraint as you welcome him, your hands coming around to cup his cheeks before breaking the kiss. “One more,” he says before your nose is brushed away from his. You comply and place another gentler peck, and the man sneaks a hand from your waist to the back of your head. You withdraw your lips again, but Gojo utters another “One more…” Your stomach does flips knowing what game he’s trying to play. Another kiss is received, and his leg sneaks in between yours.
You mewl, finding yourself stuck in this predicament. He’s now in control, using this opportunity to deepen the kiss and make it more passionate, sucking your bottom lip and running his tongue for more access. You have no choice but to accept him, whimpering at the tongue intruding into your oral cavity while his leg moves further and further. 
Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping his jacket as the Gojo furthers himself into the kiss. The hand behind your head keeps you steady, keeping him focused on your mouth, where he sucks on your tongue in a way that leaves you breathless — like, actually. After he quits the kiss, you two are gasping for air so hard, and your lips are wet because of him. 
“Hahhh, ’Toru, stop,” you wipe spit from your mouth. “We can’t be doing this here…”
Your complaint falls on deaf ears, the sorcerer placing chaste kisses on your cheek. “Hmmm, why not?”
“Mmm..Someone, your students, we’d be caught here…”
Gojo smirks; it’ll never stop being adorable how bashful you are around him, particularly when he expresses his undying affection for you in public. But he will respect your wishes, and the idea that pops into his head makes him giggle.
Before you can process anything, Gojo picks you up with your legs held up and a hand on your back. You squeak at the unexpected action, grabbing a hold of his neck to balance yourself. Your mouth opens to express your bewilderment. Yet one moment, you two are in a hallway of the school; then you’re transported to a familiar room with a bed the next — your bedroom.
You blink in perplexity as Gojo throws you on top of your bed, stammering to find the right words. “Satoru, I wish you’d stop teleporting without letting me know! And don’t you have another meeting to get to!? Why are we in my apart—“ You don’t finish that sentence; you stop yourself once Gojo crawled up on the bed to you. Suddenly, you feel too small to utter a word.
“Sorry, baby,” No, he wasn’t. Not with that childish grin posted on his face. He brings his face to yours, placing more smacks on your lips. “But you’re the one who said we shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds. Heh, you act so cute when you’re shy…”
“No, Satoru, we can’t—Mmmm,” silencing you with kisses was such a vile card, knowing you’d be whimpering under him just from him twirling his tongue with yours. “Mmph..Mmah…! You’re scheduled for…another meet—“
“Shhh, don’t worry; I can be late for a few minutes,” another lie. If Gojo’s late to another meeting, Principal Yaga will put the younger man in a chokehold again. “I’ll make this quick, I promise. So, just let me enjoy you…”
Sucking your tongue is all it takes for you to give up on trying to persuade him out of what he’s doing. Gojo takes off and throws his jacket to the bedroom floor to let his black fitted tee breathe, and his hands initiate unbuttoning your blouse. He then slithers it down to the bottom of your long pencil skirt to pull up, greeting your undergarments with his digits. You jerk at the contact of his middle finger that presses on the damp spot of your panties, earning a faint, salacious laugh from Gojo. 
“Awww, did my baby get wet just from kissing earlier?” He rubs the underwear further, soaking the spot more with your fluids. Your thighs tremble, “Did you miss me that much?”
“Sato—Oooh!” He sinks his finger deeper into your entrance; the material barrier is so wet from your essence seeping through. “Your finger...Mmm.”
“What is it, cutie?” He whispers to your ear, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a moan. “You want my fingers?” You nod sheepishly, amusing the snow-haired man. “Now, Y/n, you know I want to hear you tell me what you want. Use your words, princess.”
You gulp to satiate your dry throat. “Yess, Satoruu, I want your fingers. Please, let me cum on your fingers…”
“That’s my angel,” he praises before straightening himself between your sheer pantyhose-covered legs. After sliding your damp panties off, he brings a leg to his shoulder and finally slides his blindfold off his face, his hair losing its spiky position and falling with gravity. Cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your wet cunt in his sights, biting his lip. “Made such a pretty mess all for me, huh.”
His hand returns to your now bare chasm, sliding his ring and middle finger between your soaking folds. You hum to the touch, gripping on your blouse to use as reins. After a few seconds, he inserts the middle digit inside, immediately going to work after he pulls a gasp from your surprised body.
Slow motions sneak up on you, scraping your velvet texture with the blunt fingertip. His slender digit pushed and pulled from inside you, making sure you took him to the knuckle. He swirls it around, evoking shaky screams from him, scratching your inner walls so diligently. And your eyebrows furrow once the movement quickens.
“Hooohh, ohhh!” You threw your head back to the pillows. “Ahhnn, faster, go faster…”
“Hmm? You want me to go faster?” He teases with a perched brow. He does as asked, but with a catch; he sneaks his ring finger inside with your slick as lube. You shriek, two fingers now ravaging your insides and pleasing you with faster shifts. “Like this?” Did you even have to answer that; were you gripping the sheets and hips moving on their own not enough?
“Oooo, fuahhh, fuuckk, ‘Toru, nooo, y’re making me…Hoohh!”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he kisses your calf before placing his lips on your ankle to lick playfully. “Just let me make you feel all good.”
Fuck did Gojo miss this; it’s been more than a week since he’s had his hands on your body like this. The constant meetings have almost made him forget the warmth and plush of your frame. He needed this, like, BAD. He’s barely containing himself now; the image of your slit taking his fingers so well is bubbling his excitement, and the tent of his pants that shields a boner grows painfully hornier.
You were bound to cum on his fingers in no time, howling with an arched back when he does the ‘come hither’ motion and scrapes your inner walls. They contract around his digits as your legs tremble with the surge of your orgasm. Gojo loves the sight and stirs the fingers to tease your keen nerves more. “Good job, sweetie,” he kisses your ankle again while slowly removing his fingers from you, inserting them inside his mouth to lather his tongue with your juices. He almost caves in just from the taste.
But a sudden buzz in the pocket of his pants alerts him. He brings out his phone ringing with a call and presses the green button before pressing the device to his ear. “Yo, Ijichi.”
“Ah, thank goodness you picked up. Where are you; the meeting starts in a few minutes.”
“Mmm, I’m at Y/n’s,” even if you’re in a tiny daze, your face morphed into an expression of shock at his nonchalant honesty. “I’m only here to grab something real quick, and then I’ll head back to the school.”
“Are you sure…?”
He laughs, “Now, Ijichi, are you calling me a liar?”
That was precisely what he was — a whole liar.
“—Taahh, ahhhn, Sa’oruuuuu! Yer hitting shoo deep in—Saaahh!!”
It’s been a solid fifteen minutes after that call with Ijichi, and Gojo is still in the confines of your bedroom. He was very much late; of course, he was. Why would he not be? He finally has this chance to have you to himself, so he’s indulging it however long he wishes.
Gojo ripped you out of your clothes to meet with his clothing on the floor, leaving you bare and nude for him aside from your pantyhose. You’re lying on your side with one leg up on Gojo’s shoulder while the other is between his, and his cock now pushing to and fro inside your chasm that was filled with his come. 
His thrusts were sharp and rough, the curve of his dick jabbing areas in your vagina you never thought would be stimulated. Jesus, his length was dangerous, having you babbling incoherent words to the air and reaching so deep inside that you quaked under him. Your brain is stuck in a haze, especially since this is the second time he’s fucking inside you and made you cum a total of three times!
“Ohhmy, Gohhhd! Sato—Ohhhh…!!” He grasps around your leg to plunge himself further and faster, the work of his pelvis having you see stars.
“Hsshhh, God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” he coos sweetly, juxtaposing with the erratic pace of his hips that move your figure with every rut. Azure orbs take in the display before him; your naked body submitted to him to alleviate his week-long stress and please the both of you. Strands of his silverfish-white hair are drenched from the sweat built on his forehead. “—Hmmgh! Shit…keep clamping onto me like that.”
You chew on your lip, sneaking a hand down on your clitoris to whisk your fingers around it. Oh, it feels so good, playing with yourself as your boyfriend massages your insides. “Mmaaah, s’ good...”
“Hmm, what’s that?” His hips now go slow; the stretch his curve causes when entering inside has your toes curl. “What feels good?” He then snaps his pelvis to startle you.
“—Mmmph!! You! Y’u feel so good, ‘Toruuu..!”
“Heh, you feel amazing yourself, Y/n,” returning to an erratic rhythm, Gojo pumps his cock til the base kisses your squelching folds. His balls smack onto you after every push. He then curves downward for his face to be closer for you to hear him, “Hmmnn, you gonna be good and come again, right?”
You nod cursorily, your eyes shut to enhance the feeling of you rubbing on your bud. “Yesshh, I’m so close, I wanna cum…Want you to fill me u—Uuuhhn!!”
“Jesus, you look so fucking hot,” he grins before bringing his mouth to your nipple, his tongue dancing around the tip to harden. “Let’s cum together, okay, cutie?”
He sucks in your nipple as his thrusts go grim, and severe hits to your cunt result in you wailing far from your control. The tip of his cock picks at your silky walls so euphorically that you hum his name. A hand comes to your chest to keep you steady and synced with him, and he keeps rutting into you even when his body shudders as his load is exerted inside your tight slit. And you’re not far from him either; your orgasm seconds away from his hits you hard, and you quiver in the shocks coursing through your body.
As you two rock slowly through your crescendos, your essence mixes with his seed, and your sweaty bodies heave and pant for the third time this session. Gojo releases your nipple from his mouth after withdrawing his dick from inside, and his jizz seeps out of your frame. “Phew, man, how I needed that.”
You respond despite your brain feeling a bit all over the place. “Are you happy now?”
He laughs while kissing your cheek. “Thank you, princess!”
“You’re welcome, Toru,” you shook your head with a meek smile. “But you really should get going; I don’t want you getting in trouble with—“
KNOCK!! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
An abrupt sound comes from the front door, confusing the both of you as the knock comes from out of nowhere. Nonetheless, you get up and wipe yourself quickly before putting your clothes back on. Gojo does the same as you walk out of the bedroom to see who’s at your door. And once you open the door, your heart meets your stomach.
“Y/n,” it was Yaga, the principal adorning his usual attire and sunglasses.
“Principal Yaga,” you greeted the older man with a hurried bow. “Wh–What can I do for you—“
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
Your lips flatten at the question, using the silence to speak for itself as you move out of the way for the principal to enter. Yaga apologizes for the intrusion before marching into your apartment and presumably going after the person still in your bedroom, who lets out an exclaimed shout of pain from what you can assume was from a punch to the head from his old teacher. 
The former instructor strolls back to the front door where you remained; Gojo is dragged on the floor behind him. “Sorry again for the inconvenience,” Yaga puts his shoes back on before exiting your home. You observe the men leave with a heavy sigh, waving goodbye to your snow-haired sorcerer as he’s pulled across the hall like a toddler.
“See ya, sweetie,” he cries out to you without regard to the neighbors hearing him, putting his blindfold back on. “I miss you already!”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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nitewingbabi · 9 months
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↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth
2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.
‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 
Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 
It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 
Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 
Unknown Number +1**********
➤ quiet night? 
➤ parents aren’t home. 
➤ neighbours are out of town. 
You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 
Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 
Unknown Number +***********
➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 
➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 
You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 
Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 
Unknown Caller 
You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 
“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 
“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 
“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 
“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 
“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 
“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 
You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 
You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 
“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 
“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 
Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 
It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 
Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 
“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 
The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 
His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 
Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 
It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 
Unkown Number +**********
➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 
➤ leave your window unlocked
➤ i know your parents wont be home
➤ hope you like it rough princess
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
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@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
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he-calls-me-kitten · 3 months
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Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice
VA! MC x OM! Characters
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"Hey Levi, any new game recommendations for me? I just finished the last lot of books Satan suggested." You asked, plopping down your head on his shoulder to look at his screen.
"M-MC! You have to warn me before you do such things!" He muttered, his ears turning red as he scrolled some webpages pages for you. "But okay yeah these are the new games that are out recently... see anything you like?"
"Oh my God! It's out it's out!" You pointed excitedly at the screen. "Pretty Little Things is out! Finally!! I was dying to tell you all about it!"
Levi visibly stiffened up. "You-you were waiting for this particular game to come out? Are you sure it's not another game with a similar sounding name?"
"Nah uh this is the exact same one. Look up the list of voice actors in this game!"
"WHAT?! MC WHY IS YOUR NAME IN HERE?????"
"Yes! This was the new part-time job I couldn't tell you about since it was still in production! Im so glad you can just play it now!"
"...it's uh ready for download on all platforms already...so which character did voice?"
"Oh spoiler alert, my character is the only one that doesn't have a name, you have assign me one, the same way you name yourself. They even designed the characters to resemble all the VA's and add in some of their personalities, isn't that sweet?"
"Hahaha y-yeah definitely sweet! I'll be sure to check it out soon!"
"Great! Lemme know what you think of the game okay?!" You squeezed him in a small hug before you left.
Later in the Demon Brothers only group chat:
Levi: Code Red! Code Red! ASHSKSHSKSKSJJSKKS
Mammon: WHAT WHAT THAT MEANS AN MC RELATED EMERGENCY RIGHT??
Asmo: OMG are they OKAY?? Should I go check up on them in their room!?!
Satan: I'm already on my way.
Mammon: NOT BEFORE ME YOU'RE NOT!
Belphie: Is MC hurt in anyway?
Beel: Did they pass out from hunger?! I can bring them emergency snacks right away
Lucifer: Can you lot not lose your minds everytime MC is mentioned? Pathetic. Levi, calm down and tell us what's wrong.
Beel: But Lucifer I just saw you hurrying up the stairs to MC's room too...
Satan: Typical Lucifer. By the way, MC is perfectly fine, happy even. Levi what are you on about?
Mammon: Yeah MC can't stop smiling! It's a good thing that happened, you idiot! Why would you scare us like that?
Asmo: Omg apparently MC voice acted in a new game! Levi I need you to download it for me ASAP please!
Beel: Me too, please.
Belphie: Me three.
Lucifer: I've already done it, you all can do it yourselves if you could do your own work for once.
Satan: Oh shut up, MC just did it for you right now as they did it for me.
Levi: It's a Dating Simulator. With multiple H-rated DLC endings. And MC is one of the dateables.
...
Levi: Hello?!! Did you guys not see my message?!
Levi: Seriously no reaction?! You guys aren't freaked out by this?!?
Beel: I just heard several doors opening and closing at once.
Asmo: Oh come Levi, I think you already know what our reaction is Levi ♥️ How can we possibly hold in our excitement after such a news!?
Levi: Are you all downloading the game together?!!! Y'all are hogging the bandwidth too much, my download speed has gone way down!!
Simeon: Hey
Simeon: I heard some demons in a cafe, raving about a game where MC plays one of the main characters?
Solomon: Indeed MC just sent us all a link right now.
Simeon: Oh is that so? I'll get Luke to help me download it after he's done with his.
Levi: Luke is playing it too?! I don't think it's appropriate given it's certain hidden endings!!
Barbatos: MC already made sure of it. He only has access to the sibling and friendship routes. It's a special version they added for all ages.
Diavolo: It already has downloads in the ten thousands. I'm really glad to see how MC is beloved by Devildom.
Levi: Are NONE of you affected by the fact that there are erotic routes with MC's VOICE?!!
Solomon: Oh I personally cannot wait hear my adorable apprentice's performance.
Barbatos: Ahem. I'd rather not comment on it.
Simeon: Same.
Diavolo: Same.
Levi: Sigh. We really are just a helpless lot at the mercy of MC.
To be continued...
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trivia-yandere · 3 months
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dilemma
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being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63
word count: 4.063
warning: drug dealer yoongi, oral (m receiving), kissing, smut, praising, weed smoking, unprotected sex, dirty talking, cumshot,
valentine's day masterlist
“Suga…” you murmur to the phone pressed to your ear. The sound of the shower is loud in the background as you wait for the water to turn hot. 
“Y/N.” the voice on the other side murmurs, voice deep and a little raspy. “You know you don’t have to call me that. I’ve known you for years now.”
You touch the water and hum. “I know. I like saying it, though.” you respond to the man on the other side. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything. It is Valentine’s Day afterall.”
You hear a chuckle on the other side. “Nothing at all. I was just dozing off when you called.”
You lick your lips. You texted first, asking if he had your usual - nothing but an eighth of weed to hold you off. When he didn’t respond, you called.
You knew Yoongi way back from your High School years that then rolled into college and even now, as you worked at your big girl job. His product was good, affordable and he always threw deals for clientele such as yourself - loyal, as he calls them. There’s been times in which Yoongi would add extra to the bag he sold you just because.
“That’s sad. Figured a guy like you had someone to spend the day with him." The shower water is now hot. “I guess we’re both lonely on this holiday.”
You hear a grunt come from Yoongi. “I guess we are.” There’s silence for a moment from the both of you. “What do you suggest we do about that then?”
You lick your lips, your heart pumping at his sudden choice of words.
Another reason why you liked Yoongi - he always flirted back, no matter how subtle. You ponder if he was like this with all his clientele - but you understood that with you, he was. It never went past light flirting and lingering eyes, but it’s fun to engage with, nonetheless. 
“How about I drop off your usual and then we can smoke together?” Yoongi questions, a coolness in his voice. “I have a new strain you can try.”
“A new strain?” you open the shower door and get inside. The water hits your back and you lowly moan at the nice sensation of it. “That would be nice, Yoongi. How long do you think you’d be?”
“Not long. Are you in a rush?”
“No. I’m just showering.”
Yoongi is silent for a moment and you lick your lips in anticipation. 
“Getting pretty for our smoke session, I see. How nice.” there’s shuffling in the background as you laugh at his response. “I’ll be there in around 20.”
“See you.”
You scrubbed your skin furiously as if it was covered in the most dirt and grime ever. Your showers lasted longer than 10 minutes - especially when it was an everything shower. How you managed to do everything in 10 minutes was beyond you, but you managed. You still had to get out and make yourself look good without appearing as if you were trying too hard.
You tilt your head in the mirror, mind wandering. 
What if Yoongi was just a natural flirt? You were probably thinking far too into the flirtings - here you stood in front of a mirror pondering on what lingerie to wear for a man that sold you weed. Could you get any more pathetic than that?
Then again, what exactly did you have to lose?
You sigh. Your dignity was one - and so was good weed for the low if Yoongi decided to deny you.
“Fuck it.” you shrug away your nerves, deciding that even if Yoongi denied you, that wouldn’t stop you from at least attempting.
You knew Yoongi likes black - it’s all you ever truly see him in. You decided on a lacy black one you only ever wore once - for pictures - and covered it with a long t-shirt that stops at your thighs. 
Your phone sounds and you exhale a breath. You place the phone upon your ear and murmur a soft hello. “YN…” you feel the goosebumps of hearing your name come from Yoongi’s lips. “...I’m outside.”
“Coming.” you sing-song. 
It’s evening in February and that meant it was a bit chilly out, but you’d choose to ignore the piercing feeling of the cold breeze against your legs.
Yoongi’s car matched him, you thought. It was a black sedan with the darkest tint of windows you’ve ever seen. It stands out in the driveway of your way - your own car wasn’t as new as his nor was the surrounding ones belonging to your neighbors. 
The car is still on, but Yoongi assures that the lights aren’t. You got into his car swiftly, admiring how clean it was and how him it felt.
“You look nice.” Yoongi comments, flickering on the light.
“In a big ass t-shirt?” you snort, but even your heart is pounding from the compliment. If he thought you looked nice now, you wondered just how he’d like your lingerie.
Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah.” he nods. “You smell nice, too.”
You bite your lip, glancing at Yoongi's way. 
“This is a nice car.” you had to change the subject. Yoongi was such a smooth talker and everything he said had a tone of seriousness to it. It was hard not to be tongue tied around him. “You can’t get all your money just selling weed.”
Yoongi knits his brows. “Sounds like you’re fishing for information.” he murmurs. 
“Just an observation.”
Yoongi grasps a small rectangular box. He opens it, revealing pre-rolled blunts wrapped in paper. “You’re correct. It isn’t all I sell.” he says. “But, Y/N…ignorance is bliss.” Yoongi lights one of the blunts and hands it to you. “Ladies first.”
You gently grab the blunt, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s eyes watch you. You feel nervous underneath his intense stare, contemplating how you would make your move upon him.
Yoongi licks his lips, eyes trailing down to your exposed legs. They appeared soft and smooth and he wanted to test the theory, but he held himself back.
Yoongi blinks when your hand comes into his line of vision. Yoongi shakes his head. “You can keep that one. I’ll light another.” he says, opening the box once more and grabbing yet another blunt.
You giggle. “That seems excessive.” But you take Yoongi’s word for it and continue to smoke as Yoongi lights his own. “Isn’t there a rule for using your own supply?”
Yoongi chuckles, taking a drag of his blunt. “My supply would be fine, trust me.”
“I feel bad though.” you murmur, glancing out the window. It’s hard to see with the tint and you just thought that was perfect. “I made you come all the way here for nothing.”
Yoongi is intrigued. He watches as you slowly turn towards him, body facing his way now in the large seat. He wants to tear his eyes away from the way the oversized shirt rises up your thigh, but it takes him a whole ten seconds to do so - and yes, he did count. 
“How so?” Yoongi swallows, finally lifting his eyes to reach yours. He continues to smoke as he awaits your response. 
“I don’t have any money.” your blunt was smaller than his now as you take a few puffs before continuing. “I should have told you once I realized. You know, bills, rent and all.”
Your throat feels dry. Yoongi slowly nods his head before releasing a laugh. 
“That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve been a loyal customer for years.”
Your eyes watch Yoongi inhale the smoke and exhale it through his nose. Your legs clench, finishing the blunt that has grown small.
“That would be taking advantage of you. I don’t want to do that.” you shake your head. 
“I consider you a friend of mine, Y/N.” You feel the jolt in your heart that tells you that your plan was going to fail. “You’re the only one that I would give such luxuries to.”
The jolt is back, but this time your plan was back in action. “Oh?” you ask, opening the window and flickering the small bud out of it. “I consider you a friend of mine, as well. But still…”
Yoongi blinks, tilting his head. 
“...I don’t just want to leave without offering you something.”
Yoongi’s unsure if he’s completely understanding what you’re speaking but he doesn’t have a moment to digest, either. You’re fast and swift, swinging your leg around and sitting completely onto his lap. Yoongi gasps when he feels you directly on him, the oversize shirt riding up your thighs once more.
There’s an open water bottle in the cup holder and Yoongi is quick to drop the rest of his blunt inside of it, not caring if he has wasted the rest entirely because you were in his lap. Yoongi is hesitant to touch you - he wants to feel the softness of your thighs. But he allows himself to slowly, telling himself that if you didn’t want him to, you wouldn’t be in his lap now. 
“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back into his seat and looking up at you. 
Yoongi’s hands are big and they feel nice on you. You’d recall often staring at them whenever you and he were together - usually when he was bagging your weed. 
“I want to.” your hands send electric shocks through him when he feels them onto his neck. “You’ve been good to me after all these years. Always giving me deals, supplying more than what I ask for.”
Yoongi grunts when he feels you begin to grind against him and he is but a man, and within seconds he’s painfully (and embarrassingly) hard. 
“You even used to listen to my drunk ramblings when I’d call for weed.”
Yoongi snorts. “They were entertaining.” he admits, recalling the time you’d call him in all hours of the night back during your college days, ask for your usual, then completely change the topic of conversation. He never told you to shut up like you would have in his position.
Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest. You then grip the hem of your shirt and begin to lift. Yoongi watches in a trance, eyes slightly widening. In his eyes, you move in slow motion, taking off the oversize shirt.
Yoongi feels a lump in his throat and he tries his hardest to swallow it. His eyes are fixed on you - the black lingerie you wore that hugs you perfectly. It leaves little to the imagination, a lacy material covering your skin. He can see the outlines of your nipples - aroused and hardened for him.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Yoongi manages to swallow, eyes glancing up to look at you. You’re smirking down at him, satisfied that he was tongue tied. 
“You knew you were going to come out here and do this to me.” Yoongi presse you firmly against him, hands roaming up your sides. “That’s why you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”
Yoongi doesn’t intend to hold anything back now - not as you sit in his lap and allow him to touch you freely. He leans into your neck and inhales the sweet scent of your natural aroma mixed with perfume, a scent he’s sure he smelled before. He doesn’t want to think too much into it (or admit that he has smelled you when he’s given you your usual because he wasn’t a creep).
“Guilty.” you mumble, lowering yourself so you’re a few inches from his face. 
Yoongi places his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss. It catches you by surprise for a moment, but then you melt into him. His hands roam your body, palms feeling what skin you have exposed.
Your teeth sink into Yoongi’s bottom lip, lightly tugging it. Your palms slide into the back of his neck just as Yoongi’s begin to cup your ass.
“You want to do this here?” questions Yoongi, a dark look in his eyes. He isn’t opposed to it, however, the way he wants to have you would be quite difficult in his car.
“We can go inside.” you murmur, lips kissing down his jawline. 
Licking his lips, Yoongi nods. “You know you don’t have to do this if you think you need to pay me.” he has to be sure that it’s something you truly want to do - ignoring that you did come out here in lingerie and willingly sat in his lap after he stated you didn’t have to pay him.
“Maybe I just want to fuck you.” was your response and now, Yoongi is sure that tonight you’d get exactly what you were asking for.
The next is a blur. You managed to put your shirt back on while Yoongi gathered his own belongings and getting out the car. He keeps his hands on you as he follows you back inside your home and once the door is closed, you’re on him once more.
There had to be an attraction prior to this - between the both of you. You’d notice oftentimes that Yoongi’s eyes would wander when he thought you weren’t looking, and he also noticed how you’d become so giddy or flushed when he was around. This was bound to happen sooner or later - but never Yoongi leading it. 
So you had to.
“Do you have a condom?” you ask Yoongi, possibly far too late. “I’m not on any birth control.”
Yoongi nods his head, glad that he left condoms in his wallet with him.
“I’m clean.” Yoongi mentions, a dust of crimson on his cheeks. 
You smile. “So am I.”
You then fall to your knees, lifting the oversize shirt over your head. You then place them on the belt of his jeans, eyes glancing up at him.
Goosebumps run through Yoongi’s skin at what you’re trying to do and he’s quick to help you. He loosens his belt and you do the rest.
Yoongi’s already hard from seeing you on your knees and the thought of what's about to come next. He watches with his mouth agape as you take his cock out of his underwear, licking your lips.
It’s a rush going through you right now and for an odd reason, you feel yourself clenching around nothing just at the sight of Yoongi above you - and the thought of pleasuring him. 
“Shit…” Yoongi murmurs to himself, swallowing once his mouth becomes dry. You’re pumping his cock gently, eyes admiring at how pretty it looked. He was cleanly trimmed, cock erect and twitching in your hands.
You place a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s cock before your tongue dips out and licks a single stripe upon it as if it was a lollipop. You can hear Yoongi’s breath hitching, and it’s what motivates you to continue.
Your tongue twirls around the tip, sucking it completely into your mouth. Your eyes glance up at the man, satisfied when his eyelids are closed and he’s beginning to pant.
Yoongi tries his hardest to remain upright, but then he feels your mouth more. So wet and warm and inviting - you take him into your mouth fully, continuing to suck as if your life depended on it. Yoongi leans against your front door, the back of his head pressed against it.
Deeper and deeper, you take Yoongi in your mouth. You rarely found your own pleasure when it came to pleasuring men - but this is different.Yoongi is hot, you’d admit, and even hotter when he’s moaning and panting because of you. You find yourself cleaning your own legs for any friction.
Managing to open his eyes, Yoongi looks down at you. Your cheeks are sucked in due to all the sucking you’re doing and wet slurping could be heard. Yoongi groans again because, damn - “You’re so pretty.” he grumbles, embarrassed because he didn’t mean to say it aloud and sound so damn whipped.
Your heart jolts at Yoongi’s compliment and it only causes you to suck harder, your jaw beginning to hurt but you refuse to stop because Yoongi (your weed dealer at that) called you pretty.
Yoongi pushes himself out of you - he’s unsure how he managed. His hand grasps your chin as he pants out a pathetic, “I don’t want to cum yet.”
There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to Yoongi’s cock and it breaks when you slide your tongue over your lips.
“Okay.” you nod at Yoongi. “Maybe next time.”
Yoongi swallows and for a moment closes his eyes. You were a vixen - someone sent by the universe to fuck up his life. And most important, he was willing for you to do so.
“Y-yeah.” Yoongi mentally screams at himself for stuttering. “Next time.” He was known for his cool demeanor, a complete nonchalant person. You were breaking down walls he was certain wouldn’t bulge. 
You grin, small and cute, and nod back at him. “Next time you can return the favor, too.” you suggest. “Now I just want to ride you.”
Yoongi shudders. He’s certain now. The universe sent you indeed. It sent you to humble him, telling him that there was someone out there who could break down the walls he placed.
Your bedroom is far while the living room is a few feet away. You lift to your feet, waving at Yoongi to follow you. He does, awkwardly, lifting his pants just so they aren’t dragging across the ground.
You push Yoongi onto your couch, enjoying the sight of the man. “Condom?” you knit your brows.
“Right.” Yoongi mumbles, cheeks tinted red. He goes through his pockets and gets out his wallet. The condom falls out smoothly, a small, square black package.
You watch as Yoongi places the condom onto his cock and soon, you’re hovering above him. 
“Crotchless.” you giggle to Yoongi, who appears confused when you don’t remove the lingerie.
Yoongi gulps, nodding his head. You don’t allow him a chance to process, you’re already centering yourself and slowly engulfing him fully. 
Yoongi shudders at your warmth, even through the condom, of your pussy. He bites his lip, hands immediately on your hips as you begin to rise and fall. You’re so beautiful, his hands slide up your sides and then cup your breasts. With the lingerie you’re wearing, your breasts are seconds from falling out and he decides to speed up the process. 
“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yoongi muffles himself between your breasts, large hands squeezing them. He kisses them, his tongue poking out to lick a nipple.
“Me, too.” you huff, your nails digging into the shirt of his shoulders. You imagined far too many times what Yoongi’s cock looked like and what it would look like inside of you.
Yoongi begins to thrust with you, his left holding the flesh of your ass. His tongue continues to twirl on your nipple in utter boyish bliss. He ponders while fucking you what you’d feel like raw - he imagines how tight you’d be around him, how wet and even warmer than you are now
“Shit…you’re so tight.” Yoongi kisses up your neck. “All for me.”
There’s a change in Yoongi’s tone of voice, no longer a stutter or a tint of uneasiness. You feel it in the way he begins to thrust harder, no longer allowing you to take control. So this was the Yoongi you knew (now know sexually) - cool, nonchalant and dominant.
With each thrust Yoongi hits a sweet spot and you moan with pleasure. His eyes continue to watch you contort with different emotions at what he’s doing. “You’re moaning like you’re in love, baby.”
You suck in a breath at the pet name. Fuck Yoongi, seriously, because you probably did look that way. But it wasn’t your fault - you don’t get fucked this good often and when you do well…
“You haven’t stopped moaning either.” you retort, somehow managing to find your words. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, your lips close to his ears. “Almost like you’re in love.”
Yoongi feels it - your tongue. It swipes at his ear teasingly and that’s all he needed to flip you onto your back, hitting the couch rapidly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts his shirt a bit so he can continue to fuck into you. The position allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot so sweet that you’re wailing.
“So wet. Wish I could feel you.” Yoongi says more to himself than you. There’s a creamy wetness wrapped around the condom, your pussy leaking with pleasure. 
You begin to pant, eyes snapping shut. You were beginning to think that maybe you were becoming dick drunk, because your next words surprise you just as it does him. “If you can pull out, you can take off the condom. Cum on me, too.”
“Shit, baby, really?” Yoongi halts his thrusts. Did he hear you correctly? “You can’t be that high.” he jokes.
“Fuck you.” you hiss low. “Just take it off and fuck me, Yoongi.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi does as he’s told, quickly getting up to undress his bottom half. He removes the condom and looks around.
“Just throw it-”
“I’m not throwing it on the ground.” Yoongi raises a brow. “I’m not a caveman.” He was far too respectful and sanitary for that,even if it was just for a moment.
You huff and nod, pointing behind you to the direction of the bathroom. 
Yoongi dashes down the hall, discards the condom, and rushes back. He kisses your cheek quickly, centering himself back at your whole.
Yoongi winces, then shudders.
You felt better than he’d imagined - warm, wet and still tight. He’s slow at first, trying to collect himself. Your legs are over his shoulder again, and he reaches inside of you deeper and deeper. 
“You look in love.” you joke, mocking him. Yoongi hasn’t looked away from your pussy since he started. 
“Maybe I am.” Yoongi’s nails dig into your thighs, his thrusts picking up the pace. The sweet sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy hit his ears. “You’re clenching around me so tight.” his eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. “Like you want me to cum in you.”
Yoongi pounds inside of you, each thrust aggressively deep. You don’t mean to say it - but Yoongi was playing a dangerous game as if you weren’t already high and horny.
“Maybe I do.”
Yoongi grumbles something inaudible. Indeed you were sent from the universe - he’s read about nymphs and you’re beginning to fit the description. 
“You do, huh?” Yoongi opens your legs and marvels at the sight of your pussy, his cock being milked with your essence lovingly. His thumbs place itself onto your clit and he rubs. “You’re just talking. Good weed and dick would do that to you.”
Cocky Yoongi is back and damn was it hot.
You opened your eyes to see Yoongi in the act. 
A mistake.
Yoongi’s looks completely feral, eyes dark with lust. His hair sticks to his forehead and his mouth is slightly agape, panting to himself. His eyes are fixed to your pussy and you decided to see just what he saw.
You were cumming now - Yoongi circling your clit just as rough as he was fucking you. His cock fits perfectly inside of you and watching the way he fucks you just sends you completely over the edge. 
“There you go, baby.” chuckles Yoongl raspily, witnessing you cum for him. “You look pretty cumming on my cock.”
A few more sloppy thrusts and Yoongi’s certain he’s near. He bites his lip, pulling out of you abruptly. His cum spills on your clit, warm and slippery.
You huff, shaking your head. “You managed to pull out.” you murmur.
Yoongi falls back against the couch to catch your breath. “Almost didn’t.” he admits with a laugh. “You hungry?”
You nod your lazily, the side effects of the weed coming to you. 
“I can get us something to eat.” Yoongi offers. “Free of charge. You don’t have to fuck me-”
You kick Yoongi, a rush of hot embarrassment running through you, but all the man does is laugh, gummy smile on full display.
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love-belle · 10 months
Text
good riddance !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them pretending that they weren't each other's everything.
or
for when you're too hurt to regret anything. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!!! i hope u like this one!!! thank u so much for reading, i love you <3 just a note, that i will probably not be posting next week bc i have exams but i will be active here so ! if u message me, i'll probably reply, i hope so anyways lol <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 779,617 others
yourusername taylor was so right when she said "oh my love is a lie" bc fr love IS a lie
7,927 comments
username she gets it
username oh this speaks VOLUMES
username bestie u should've just tagged him at this point
username i will never be getting over them u don't get it they were my PARENTS
username girl is heartbroken but still slaying
*liked by yourusername*
username i miss u and danny so much 💔💔💔💔💔💔
lilymhe kids remember to drink rat poison before you fall in love because it never works out!!!
-> yourusername so true gf
-> alex_albon ???
-> lilymhe no babe look away
-> username poor alex omg 💀💀💀
username TAYLOR SWIFT ALWAYS RIGHT
*liked by yourusername*
username im a child of divorce what the fuck
username hits different ://///
username the highkey shade 😭😭😭
landonorris we miss you!!!
-> maxverstappen1 who's we
-> yourusername i will steal jimmy and sassy again don't test me maximus
-> maxverstappen1 for fuck's sake that's NOT my full name
-> yourusername ok maximus.
-> username OH THANK FUCK 🙏🙏🙏 i genuinely thought her friendship with everyone would be all fucked up but im so happy to see this ❤️❤️❤️
-> username they're so precious to me
username missing daniel is the comments simping for her 💔💔💔
username "love exists bc u exist for me" IM CRYING WHAT THR CUCK
-> username how'd we go from THAT to this.
georgerussell63 your hobbies include calling me and carmen at 3 in the morning just to say bonjour in weird accents and then hang up
-> yourusername idk abt u but carmen loves me doing that
-> carmenmmundt can confirm 😘
username nah bc what'd daniel do so bad that y/n started doing STUFF
-> username IM SAYING LIKE 😭😭😭
username missing her in the paddock sm omg ://
username praying she's at the next race 🙏🙏🙏
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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danielricciardo good riddance.
8,626 comments
username PAUSE
username reverse whatcthebfuck
username daniel babe what.
username no bc if i was y/n i would cry maybe that's just my sensitive ass
-> username definitely not just u bc i would SOB
username OH MY GOD
landonorris don't act like i can't hear you singing sad songs to yourself
-> danielricciardo LEAVE ME ALONE
username nah bc what the fucj
username i don't like it one bit 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
username NOT MY PARENTS FIGHTING
username love is not real bc if they didn't work out then there's absolutely no hope for me
username i feel so bad :////
charles_leclerc you're lying
-> danielricciardo no i'm not
-> charles_leclerc yes you are, i can see you wipe away your tears
-> danielricciardo STOP EXPOSING ME
-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD
username "good riddance" what if this was my last straw.
username i know he's gasping for air rn knowing he lost a bad bitch like y/n
username ahahahahaha!!! im so okay!!!!!!! just fine!!!!!!! idc abt this!!!!!!!! (im losing my mind)
username someone take away y/n's phone before she sees this PLEASE
username my heart's breaking wtf
username remember when daniel and y/n posted about each other with WHOLESOME captions??????? good times
-> username those were the highlights of my entire week like ://
-> username i miss my mom and dad sm 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
maxverstappen1 nice
*liked by danielricciardo*
username i know max is maaaaaaaaaaad
username the f1 gc is blowing up as we speak rn
-> username real like y/n is like their baby sister 😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °text messages ꒱
kelly's bf 👎 - max ; cat stealer ❌ - y/n
cat stealer ❌ : max
kelly's bf 👎 : what
cat stealer ❌ : is kelly with u
kelly's bf 👎 : she's out with p
kelly's bf 👎 : what happened
cat stealer ❌ : just wanted to talk to her
cat stealer ❌ : it's okay, just tell her to give me a call whenever she's back :) tell sweet p i love her and i miss her sm
kelly's bf 👎 : will do
seen 1m ago
kelly's bf 👎 : hey you okay?
kelly's bf 👎 : i saw what daniel posted
kelly's bf 👎 : it's a shit move just saying
kelly's bf 👎 : he's stupid
cat stealer ❌ : yeah idc lol
cat stealer ❌ : "good riddance" ok boy u literally begged me to make it work
cat stealer ❌ : i'm sorry ik he's ur best friend
kelly's bf 👎 : yeah but so are you
cat stealer ❌ : WOAHHH PAUSE
cat stealer ❌ : max being nice for a change?????
cat stealer ❌ : history was made
kelly's bf 👎 : don't make me take it back
kelly's bf 👎 : but yeah
kelly's bf 👎 : don't pay any attention to him, yeah? i'm sure kelly will have a few choice words for him at the next race, along with me. and p probably, she loves her aunt y/n
kelly's bf 👎 : speaking of that, you're coming to the next race right?
cat stealer ❌ : i love u all :// thank u
cat stealer ❌ : and no, i don't think it's a good idea
kelly's bf 👎 : are you sure? you can stay inside the whole time, he won't even see you
cat stealer ❌ : i'll think abt it, im just very overwhelmed rn that's all
kelly's bf 👎 : that's very understandable tbh
cat stealer ❌ : max
kelly's bf 👎 : y/n
cat stealer ❌ : can i ask u something
kelly's bf 👎 : if this is about letting you and kelly give me a makeover, it's no
cat stealer ❌ : we'll convince u someday but that's not what i wanted to ask
kelly's bf 👎 : what is it?
cat stealer ❌ : do u think daniel ever loved me
cat stealer ❌ : like at all???
kelly's bf 👎 : y/n
kelly's bf 👎 : of course he did
kelly's bf 👎 : you were his everything
cat stealer ❌ : then why was it so easy for him to walk out and then say "good riddance"
cat stealer ❌ : he took the easy way out
kelly's bf 👎 : he's a stupid asshole that's all
kelly's bf 👎 : but he truly did love you, he still does. i know i complained a lot, but with the way he spoke of you, like you were truly his everything. it was such a happy site, seeing my two best friends in love
cat stealer ❌ : u called me best friend twice omg
cat stealer ❌ : that's a record
kelly's bf 👎 : shut up
kelly's bf 👎 : my point is
cat stealer ❌ : i need to post something so W
cat stealer ❌ : brb
cat stealer ❌ : kelly's calling me
kelly's bf 👎 : so i was just a placeholder till my girlfriend arrived?
cat stealer ❌ : aw look at u using ur brain
kelly's bf 👎 : this is why daniel broke up with you
cat stealer ❌ : TOO SOON
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yourusername me looking for my last fuck to give
7,927 comments
username SLAYED
username ATE SO HARD OMG
username MOTHER
username i love her sm omg
username she's winning the idgaf war
kellypiquet pretty girl 🤍
*liked by yourusername*
username IM IN LOVE WOAHHHH
username she gagged him y'all
username I LOVE HER SM
username gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf gf
maxverstappen1 👍
-> yourusername 👎
-> maxverstappen1 okay fuck you i was trying to be nice
username HER
username iconic
username exes beefing omg 💀💀💀
lilymhe SLAYED
*liked by yourusername*
lilymhe IN LOVE
*liked by yourusername*
lilymhe on my knees pls marry me
-> yourusername let's go bb i'll get u a ring
-> alex_albon oh
-> lilymhe babe LOOK AWAY
username two artworks in one frame
-> yourusername pls i love u 😭😭😭
username MOTHER IS MOTHERING
username i know he's shaking rn
username no bc the way my jaw dropped and the way i gasped why are u so pretty beautiful gorgeous angelic ethereal breathtaking hot fine amazing
username I WENT TO HEAVEN OMG
username just one chance please
charles_leclerc as lando taught me "slayed the house down 🔥🔥🔥"
-> yourusername PLEASE IM HONOURED
username i adore her friendship with the grid 🫶🏼
username ahsuidsjgsjsjsksisjajsdh
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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danielricciardo ignorance doesn't suit you
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yourusername honey everything suits me ❤️
tagged danielricciardo
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