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#nothing i say has ever mattered but i guess it took a while for me to fully internalize that
vagueiish · 1 month
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how the hell do people just talk to people? how do they just put their thoughts out there like anyone gives a shit what they have to say?
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eveningepiphany · 10 months
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welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot
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my masterlist!
summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.
warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!
a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.
also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig
———
There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.
That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.
You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.
You’d waited years just to get here in general.
When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.
But you’re here. At the front.
You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.
A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.
Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.
But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.
Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.
You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.
Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.
“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.
You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.
“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.
Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”
Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.
“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.
“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.
You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”
You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.
“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.
“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.
You could stay in this moment forever.
As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.
You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.
Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.
Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.
Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.
And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”
“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.
Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.
The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.
You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.
You were enamoured by him.
Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.
His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.
“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.
“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.
He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”
You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.
But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.
From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.
But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.
This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.
And then he reads the sign.
‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’
His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.
You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.
“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.
As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.
However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.
He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.
“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”
“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.
You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.
Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.
‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.
A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.
“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.
He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.
“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.
“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”
A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”
Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.
You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.
“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.
He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”
You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.
The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.
Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.
“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.
“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.
“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”
And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.
You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.
And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.
But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.
You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.
It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.
To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.
Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”
You blow a kiss back.
And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.
Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.
You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.
Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.
———
Post love on tour depression is a real thing.
There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.
But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.
The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.
And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.
The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.
You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.
You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.
It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”
It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.
That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.
Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.
“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.
He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.
He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.
“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.
You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.
But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.
You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.
“Hi…” You flush profusely.
“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.
Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.
The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.
That are very intensely locked onto yours…
“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”
He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”
“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.
“Y/N.” He tuts gently.
“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.
“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.
“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.
“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.
Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?
You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.
“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”
“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.
“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.
You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.
He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.
Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.
You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.
Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.
Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.
You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.
You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.
You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”
He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.
“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.
“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.
“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,
“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”
Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”
He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.
In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.
“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.
The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.
“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.
“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.
“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”
He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”
“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.
“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.
“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.
“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”
“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.
“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.
“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”
He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.
You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.
Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.
The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.
He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.
Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.
You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.
But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.
You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”
He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”
A friend of his?
“Alright, bye, I love you.”
And just like that the phone hung up.
“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.
“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.
You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.
“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.
It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.
“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”
“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”
As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.
Your brain stalls at his comment.
“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.
“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”
“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.
“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.
You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”
He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”
“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”
You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”
He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.
You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.
“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”
You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”
He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.
You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.
“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.
“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.
He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.
“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.
Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.
You check your phone to see the time.
1:53pm
1 new notification
Unknown Number | :)
So that actually did just happen.
———
To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,
so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?
And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.
———
part two!!
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yikesmary · 1 year
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hi! i saw u were asking for some svt oneshots ideas so ... strangers to dating (?) w mingyu where u walk ur golden retriever and while in the park mingyu bumps into ur puppy and asks if they can play together for a while <3
PUPPY PARENTS — kim mingyu x reader
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summary: where your golden retriever has the tendency to bring you things she has an interest in— sticks, frisbees that obviously don’t belong to you, and even the occasional bird. but this time, your dog brings… a man? and not just any man, only the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. maybe your dog is onto something…
notes: WOO first request! i don’t have a dog but this request is cute. also i have no knowledge on how having a dog at the park works so i’m just guessing. it’s a non-idol!au but it doesn’t really matter since it’s not really mentioned. i kinda got carried away and the plot ended up a bit different than what the request was so i’m sorry anon 🧍‍♀️
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“Now, I know I’ve let you bring in whatever interesting thing you see. But this time it should stop. I mean, come on, the old lady’s chihuahua? You weren’t the one getting hit by her purse,” you told your golden retriever Winnie, who looked as if she wasn’t understanding a thing you were saying.
Which made sense, considering she was a dog and you were, you know, not a dog.
You sighed, and kneeled down to the level of Winnie and decided to give her a tiny head rub before standing up and proceeding your walk to the park.
Thankfully, the park wasn’t busy. The last thing you wanted Winnie to do was pick up another kid again by their collar and proceed to kidnap them (the first and last time it happened, the mom was understanding but also really concerned).
Once you entered the park, you looked for a bench to sit on with Winnie not too far away, her tail wagging as she walked. When you finally chose a bench and sat down, Winnie looked at you as if she was expecting you to let her roam free.
“You can’t go too far away and play nice with the other dogs,” you reminded her, and she barked in response. It was times like these where you thought she understood you. But no matter how much you reassured her that you knew how to keep secrets, the only thing she did was stare at you blankly.
You gave her one last ruffle on her head before she took off running, watching her as she zoomed past the many people in excitement.
After making sure that she didn’t immediately run away from the park, you went on your phone to watch TikTok and respond to the texts you got that you told yourself you were going to respond and never ended up doing.
However, this didn’t last long because a confused, “Miss, is this your dog?” which made you look at the person that belonged to the voice.
You froze at the sight of the beautiful man. And it wasn’t just a quick stop; you physically froze at the sight of him. But you stopped once you realized that your dog was forcibly keeping him there in front of you by biting his pant leg and not letting go.
“Winnie! I told you that you can’t kidnap people,” you whisper yelled at your dog, but it was futile, as your dog just kept on wagging her tail, no doubt drooling on the handsome stranger’s pants.
You took ahold of the dog and pried her mouth open in order to release the pant leg. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve known she would do something like this,” you apologized, putting Winnie’s leash back on.
The man had smiled at you, not bothered at all at the fact his pants were now covered in dog spit. “No worries, she was nothing but sweet when she approached me. We even did a game of catch before she decided to kidnap me,” he said, grabbing a tennis ball from his pocket and showing it to you.
“You just happen to have a tennis ball in your pocket?” You asked, raising your eyebrow.
The beautiful mystery man only grinned at you, “I like visiting the park because I like asking dog owners if I can play with their dogs,”
“That’s… adorable,” you blurted out, since the thought of the man just having the ball for the sole purpose of having something to play with dogs was adorable.
“Thanks, but Winnie here is adorable, too. I’m guessing she’s named after Winnie the Pooh?”
“Unintentionally named Winnie. My niece had a Winnie the Pooh phase when she was younger and constantly kept calling her Winnie and it was the only name she ever answered to after that,” you explained.
“So if I know the dog’s name, can I know yours?” he asked.
You told him your name feeling a little embarrassed, since you went on to call him adorable and explained your dog’s name origin without either of you knowing each other’s names. If he didn’t stop you, you would’ve probably ended up over sharing and telling him all your life problems.
“Pretty name for someone who’s just as pretty,” he complimented, which made you smile.
“Does that line work?” You questioned.
“Depends. Did it work on you?”
“How about I know your name first before I say anything?” you asked.
“Oh, right! I can’t believe I asked you for your name before even saying mine. My name’s Mingyu,” he said, finally putting a name to his face.
“Well, Mingyu, the line worked. Just a tiny bit,” you replied, putting your pointer finger and thumb close together in a pinch.
“That’s disappointing. I thought it would’ve been the perfect line to lead to asking you out for coffee. My treat,” Mingyu said.
“Well. the coffee does sound good. And you did get ambushed by my dog, so I’d feel bad rejecting you…” you jokingly trailed off.
“And I might be injured! You might have to stay with me until I feel all better,” Mingyu played along, causing you to laugh.
“You’re such a dork,”
“A dork who just so happens to know of a cafe that allows dogs and even has their very own menu of drinks and food curated just for dogs,”
Winnie interrupted your banter at that moment in order to nudge you, giving her own seal of approval at the mention of the cafe. “I guess Winnie chose for the both of us,” you said, gesturing to your dog’s sudden movement.
“Just as a warning, don’t taste the dog’s food. I tried it and I should’ve never done so in the first place,” Mingyu said, the both of you walking with Winnie beside you, trotting along.
“What made you even eat the dog treats anyways?”
“They looked like human food! So, as a result my friend, Jeonghan, dared me to try one…”
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paleprincessturtle · 10 months
Text
Ruined Plan
I'm back again! Happy reading and please excuse any inaccuracies in my writing.
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Reader 
Donna stared at her screen in disbelief and gasped. She closed her eyes and looked at the screen one more time and looked behind her, at her boss’ office. She printed the document on her computer and invited herself into Harvey’s office. She waited in front of Harvey’s desk while he was on the phone. Not long after Harvey hung up the phone and he raised his eyebrows at Donna. “Are you going to say something or are you just gonna stand there looking like fish out of water?” Harvey said as he jolted down something on a document in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Donna asked him in disbelief. “Tell you that I’m the best closer this town has ever seen? I think the world knows, Donna.” Harvey smirked and looked back down at the document. “If it’s a guessing game, we have to pen it down for another day. As you know, this case has been going on for far too long.” Donna didn't say a thing but instead slid the document she printed just minutes ago. Harvey peeked at the document and asked “Why are you looking through my bank statement?”
Donna rolled her eyes so hard, for a second she was scared it won’t get back. “To make your usual monthly financial report, Harvey. What else?” Harvey waved the page absentmindedly in the air. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” Donna leaned on his desk and pointed to a specific date. “Cartier? That much? On a lunch break?” Donna asked as she straightened herself. “You’re proposing,” Donna said matter of factly. Harvey grinned so wide that it scared Donna. “The thought was just so sudden and I thought why not.” Harvey shrugged. “And why didn’t you ask for my help to pick out the perfect ring?” Donna paced in front of his desk, looking like the world was about to collapse. Again, Harvey just shrugged. “The ring must be here. Show me the ring.” Harvey squinted his eyes at her. “Harvey, I swear to God if you choose not to show me the ring, I’ll turn your office upside down and nothing will stop me.” Harvey put his hands up in defense and retrieved a key inside a little compartment underneath one of his basketball cases and opened a middle drawer in his desk. He carefully took the box and handed it to Donna. With the same care, Donna took the box in her hand. “Let’s see if we can return this ring if it turns out to lo…” Donna said seriously and stopped herself once she opened the box fully. “Well?” Harvey stood up with his hands in his pockets and smirked.
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Donna nodded and grinned “Wow, you’ve outdone yourself. This looks beautiful, simple yet elegant. And jeez, Harvey. Are you trying to blind anyone who looks her way?” Harvey’s smirks grew significantly bigger. “Kinda need to show everyone she’s off the market.” He said proudly and Donna burst into a huge fit of laughter at the prospect of seeing Harvey finally getting married and most importantly, happy. “I know this case is important and you’re swamped. But let’s take 30 minutes to plan the actual proposal. This is a very important matter, Harvey." Donna sat at the chair in front of Harvey’s desk and moved his laptop to face her. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of his own phone startled Harvey. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he looked up from piles upon piles of documents on his desk. He cracked his neck before he moved the documents around to find his phone. Harvey instantly smiled. “If it isn’t the most gorgeous girlfriend a man could ever ask for.” Harvey leaned back in her leather chair as he was immersed in the sound of laughter from the other side of the line. “Flattery won’t bring you anywhere, Mr. Specter.” Harvey smiled “But I’m known for my flattery and charm.” Harvey paused, “Is everything okay?” he suddenly worried as to why she called and it was not even 10 am. “All is well, Commander. Just asking if you could pencil me down for a lunch picnic today?” His heart heaved suddenly, Heaven knows how much he wanted to go and how hard it is to say no to her. But at least she wasn't here to show him the pout. “Oh baby, as much as I love the idea, I’m seriously swamped.” Harvey heard a big sigh and the sound of the fridge door closed. “Still?” he heard her pout. Damn it, Harvey thought. He thought not being with her and not seeing the pout will help. But now, he heard her pout. Great. “Unfortunately, still. I’ll make it up to you. Okay?” Harvey tried to reason with her as he thought of the getaway Donna and him planned earlier and smiled. “No worries, baby. Good luck with your case, okay? Don’t forget to ask Donna to bring you something for lunch. Don’t forget to eat lunch or I’ll send the SWAT team down there to shove a hotdog down your throat.” Harvey laughed heartily at her threat. “I won’t. Gotta go, the DA office called. I love you.” Harvey heard a cheerful I love you as he hung up.
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Donna entered Harvey’s office exactly at 1.30 pm. “Your 1.30 appointment is here.” Harvey looked up, bewildered. “What appointment? I told you to clear up my schedule today. I’m busy.” Before Harvey saw her, he already smelled the mixture of vanilla and rose. “Even for me?” she said sweetly as Donna left the room and closed the door behind her. Harvey stood up immediately and walked up to her. “You’re too busy now for me, Mr. Naming Partner?” she smirked as Harvey enveloped her in his embrace. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I called Donna and she told me you refused lunch. So I took matters into my own hands and made you lasagna. I’ll only drop this.” she gestured to a lunch bag that he realized just now. “I thought you'd send a SWAT team? You’re damn pretty for I thought would be 10 bulky men.” Harvey said as he gently squeezed her ass and smirked before delicately pecking her lips. “Harvey!” she slapped her hand across his chest. “No fraternizing in the office!” she scolded, face all serious. “You won’t work here until at least another month. You’re here as my girlfriend. And maybe we could make use of the copy room? Or hmm, the file room?” She laughed though he earned another slap across his chest. “I thought you were busy? Come on, eat your lunch.” She separated herself from Harvey’s arms and he involuntarily frowned at the absence of her in his arms. She opened the lunch bag and laid down the food containers on another side of his larger desk for him to eat. “Come, Harvey. You should eat.” she frowned and she called for Harvey. He sat down and now he felt hungry. Between the sight and the smell of this lasagna, he realized that he has been working on an empty stomach. “That ain’t so hard, right?” Harvey nodded, mouth full of food. “Are these the files you've been going through since last night?” she gestured to the ones on the table and a few boxes near his desk. Again, Harvey nodded. “Won’t you eat with me?” He opened the lunch bag to find another lasagna for her. “Meh, I’ve had lunch at home. Thought I will just drop your lunch,” she said as she squatted beside one of the boxes. “I’ll take half of these files. You finished your lunch first.” She took a few boxes with her and brought them to his sofa. “Babe, you don’t have to. You’re not even working here yet, the merger isn’t yet effective. Go out and have a spa day or something. Thank you, but I have it handled.” Harvey said after he gulped a big amount of water. “I won’t have it, Harvey. I’m free to help and I won’t go. Well unless you call the SWAT team." They smirked at each other as she flopped down the sofa and started with the box on the very top. Harvey stared at her as he chowed down the last bit of his lunch. How come he scored such a beauty? She leaned her back, documents opened in front of her, as she pouted while fully concentrating on the task at hand. She folded both legs, hitched her summer dress, and revealed her smooth thighs. What a pretty sight, he thought to himself. Since 3 days ago Mike got sick, this is the first day he felt happy by the news. He looked down at his lunch and something occurred to him so suddenly. He just realized how devoted she is to him. Her bringing him lunch now wasn’t the first time. She’s taking good care of him. They had been together for a tad more than a year now since she was working with her previous firm, been living together for over 7 months now Even when she was busy working, he always got home to dinner. Sometimes even home-cooked lunches brought by herself to his office. The warm baths she always knew he needed without him saying anything. How she knew what to pour him. White, red, whiskey, or bourbon. How all his friends love her. Adore her even. That never really happened with his previous partners.
He had to make her his now. Scratch that, he needed to make her his now. He moved carefully to his desk, as carefully as he could without disturbing her. He took the key and opened the drawer. He checked the box and sighed in relief as he saw the ring still in place.  He sat up straight and fixed his tie before walking up to her. She didn't even bother to look up, thought he must've needed something from one of the boxes she took. It then caught her attention when she saw him standing on one knee. “Harvey?” she looked at him quizzically. He pulled out the red box from his suit jacket and she gasped. She put her legs down, both hands covered her mouth as he opened the box. Exposing the ring. “This is not how I, actually me and Donna, planned it. We were supposed to be in Boboli Garden when I asked you this question. But I can’t wait that long. You are my life and I never loved anyone as much as I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Marry me.” Harvey looked at her sincerely and his eyes glistened. “Yes” her voice was just above a whisper. “Yes yes yes! An infinite amount of yes!!” She shrieked. Harvey smiled widely as he slid the ring down her slender finger. She put up her hand and admired the ring “Goodness, this is beautiful.” Harvey wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her up with him before spinning her around. Harvey stopped, her feet still hadn't touched the ground. Their foreheads touched as they grinned at each other. “I love you so much” she whispered as she closed their distance. “Not even in a proposal will Harvey Specter ask” Both of them laugh, as they kiss again. They separated in shock as Donna swung open the door so hard. She inspected the sight before her and screamed “HARVEY HOW COULD YOU PROPOSE TO HER IN YOUR OWN OFFICE?!?! WE'VE MADE A PLAN!”
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Author's note: Feel free to send me some story ideas. Thanks!
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dotster001 · 11 months
Text
Dark End
A/N: Another, For Tuna, custom content end is here! I've tagged everyone from the of tag list, and everyone who voted for this particular end. If you wanna add your vote for the next one, you can do so in the comments here.
CW: Kidnapping, Yandere, manipulation
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Choose Another Ending
You groaned, and lifted your head, your neck aching from resting in that position for so long.
Wait.
How long was it?
The last thing you remembered, you were sipping tea with Jade, and he had said something about 'going home'. You made to stretch, and realized your hands were restrained behind your back. You shook yourself in your chair, hoping the chains were loose, but alas, nothing.
But the rattling was also how you realized you were not on the surface. 
The bubbles around you cleared, and you were met with two pairs of glowing, mismatched eyes. You couldn't help but roll your own as you released a released breath.
"Ha ha, very funny. You guys got me." You were used to the twins…. unconventional….pranks, at this point. You were pretty sure this one was to illustrate how easily you could be gently kidnapped. They'd been telling you to up your security system for months now.
"Heh heh," two voices echoed from the darkness.
"I get the point, I'll buff up security, and let you walk me to classes. Now are you going to untie me, or have I not learned my lesson yet?"
The glowing eyes turned to each other, before turning back to you. You shivered, your gut telling you you wouldn't like the expressions they were giving one another.
"Fu fu, while we appreciate you finally listening to us, that's not what we are here to discuss today," Jade said, his ever present smirk able to be heard in his tone.
The pair of eyes you knew to be Floyd's swum closer to you, bringing his eel form into view. No matter how many times you saw it, it took your breath away. So handsome, and yet so intimidating. But when you got over your initial awe, you noticed him holding a struggling, and gagged, Grim in his arms.
"What's happening here?" You laughed nervously.
"Hmm? Oh! Sealio," Floyd giggled, as though it wasn't obvious."See, he graciously volunteered to work for our family business!"
Jade swam up next to his brother, and gently scratched the top of Grim's head.
"So generous. But we need collateral, just in case something were to go wrong. Namely, you."
The twins looked at you expectantly, and you released another nervous laugh.
"Ha ha, very funny."
Floyd scowled, and Grim winced as his grip on him tightened.
"I don't know how we can be any clearer with you, Shrimpy. We. Want. You."
"Uh…"
You were starting to get the impression that you weren't the one being held for collateral here.
But with the look in their eyes, you should definitely play their game.
"Um, how long would I be collateral?" 
"I dunno, Grimmy what do you think?" Floyd jiggled Grim a little, and you heard some jumbled words from behind Grim's gag.
"Interesting point, Grim," Jade said thoughtfully. "It sounds like he wants to work with us…forever?"
The twins both looked at each other in, clearly mock, surprise.
"That's so cool of you, baby seal!" Floyd hugged him tightly in excitement. "But obviously, Y/N's gotta make some agreements first."
The twins looked at you, sinister grins mimicking one another in perfect synch.
"What kind of agreements?" 
"I'm so glad you asked!" Jade said, pulling out a golden contract that you assumed they had gotten off of Azul. He pulled out a pen, running the top lightly along your jaw.
"We're going to unlock one of your hands, and you'll sign this for us."
"What does it say?"
"Fu fu fu, we'll worry about that part. All you need to do is look into Grim's sad, pathetic eyes, and sign the contract. Think you can do that for me?" It felt like he was saying it to a toddler. But you guessed since you were the one who was so easily gently kidnapped, it was probably necessary for you to be talked down on.
"Okay," you said shakily.
"Wonderful!" Jade swam behind you, and you felt his fingers gently brush your dominant hand, before fumbling with the lock of that particular chain. He placed the pen in it, then firmly placed his hands on your shoulders. Just in case you were stupid enough to get any ideas.
You brought your hand forward, signed the contract, and then…
Huh.
How bout that?
What were you doing here?
Oh, there was Floyd!
And, you could tell from the distinctive cologne, Jade was behind you, massaging your shoulders, and softly kissing along your neck.
How sweet of him.
Sevens, you love them so much.
You just want to be with them forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever.
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
The End
....
Tag list- @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @offpaperponies @names-are-dumb @krenenbaker @dragontamer222 @soapybubbles0 @homestuckotaku @jackalope08
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lushlovers · 1 year
Text
The P-word, J Burrow
summary; he doesn't know what to say or how to react to things like this.
warnings; fluff fr, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, pet names (baby, honey, ) joe actually kinda sucks with words but same lmaoooo, swearing, kissing
word count; 903
note; yes angst but also fluff. i'm working on more frat!lsu!joey, but this was something random I wanted to post since it's been a little while. i hate the ending no one talk about it. winter writer's block ain't no joke fr.
this is kind of my thank you for two hundred followers even though we are just on the cusp of three, but thank you so much, I appreciate the support of my works more than you will ever know. i love every one of my followers so so sooo much yall are the best:)
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Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Maybe the more you think of those eight letters will fade away and completely off the little plastic at-home test you decided to finally take. God the word just keeps ringing in your head like the most annoying of alarms. How the hell are you supposed to tell him? His career's just started he'll never be along for the roller coaster ride, especially not when it consists of a baby running around as well.
However, luck chooses to be your opponent this evening since Joe's already home and sitting on the couch in the living room, completely oblivious to the fact that your world has just turned completely upside down. It took a while for you to work up the nerve to call him up, but when you did everything suddenly felt so heavy.
The weight refused to leave your shoulders as he sat on the truck at the foot of your bed. Rehearing in the mirror, preparing for every scenario, but especially for the one that you hope and pray will never occur. Everything that you've been through together, nothing will go wrong, he's too good of a person.
After several minutes, worry becomes evident in your voice as he asks you through the door if everything's alright, "'M fine, just nervous, I guess." That seemed to do the opposite of what you intended, that is, maybe your lying and saying you're fine would shut him up for a bit, but your being nervous led to many other questions from the other side of the door.
Adding on to that p-word, every what if clouds your mind as well. What if telling him this is your biggest regret? What if he just packs his shit and leaves? What if-, "Baby, are you sure?" Fucks sake he's still going with his questions, in any less stressful situation this would've been appreciated, but not when you can barely seem to focus on the most topic at hand.
Now or never, seemed to be the only thing that got you to push open the door and finally face the man you love so dearly. He almost instantly jumps up, concern written all over his face even more so when he glances in the direction of your hands. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?" No, not entirely, you think but you won't let that escape your mouth, matter of fact, nothing leaves your mouth for many seconds. Maybe never was a good idea.
It took a bit for you to unscramble your words and finally speak up, "I'm gonna tell you something, but you have to try not to freak out." Your mouth felt dry the way your anxiety made your throat close up made it feel like your lungs had shrunk five times the size they were before, "Okay, care to share? I'm like shitting my pants right now," Joe spoke, chuckling but not because it was funny, he laughs because he's terrified of what words may escape your lips.
You do everything you can to avoid his eyes because the all too familiar feeling of tears surfaces on your waterline and his brows furrow at that. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?" His question is lost to you as he cups your face thumbing away the tears before they got a chance to slip down your cheeks. The feeling of his eyes searching yours for any answer to all the questions that he's thinking about is a scary feeling.
"I'm pregnant," it comes out as a whisper, but the way the color completely drains from his face, you know he understood every syllable of those two words. For a split second, he stares at you with a look you don't think you've ever received from him before, "That's... wow." A strangled breath of half relief and half worry escapes you at his response.
Your soul leaves your body as he racks his brain for something to say to express just how he's feeling, but he's almost certain there is no possible way to verbally explain it. Now tears are welling up in his pretty blue eyes, "That's insane, I dunno what to say, are you sure?" His voice is trembling just as much as his hands as you place the test into his palm, he gets choked up as he reads over the same word that had your stomach in knots before with nothing but admiration and surprise.
"Holy fucking shit," he gapes, pulling you into him so tight it nearly knocks the wind right out of you. You laugh now as it settles into your mind that Joe would never do anything to hurt you or your baby in any way possible and to think he would ever leave in a situation like this one was silly, but thinking irrationally tends to happen quite a lot.
"I'm gonna be a dad, I need to call-" you cut him off before he's able to go on his rant, "How about we pause, and we can tell whoever we want in the most extravagant, Joseph Burrow way possible?" He snorts at that, pulling his face away from his place against your shoulder, muffling some form of agreement against your lips, then your jaw, neck, and clavicle, and lowering himself to his knees.
For a moment he looks up at you, "Sorry if I scared you with my response, I don't usually know what to say in times like this and my brain went into shock mode."
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worldlxvlys · 4 months
Note
heyy an, i miss u sm so i got a request!! what if u start a sturniolo little sister thing (c.ai doesn't feed me enough) basically the plot i wrote on c.ai is reader (she has a name on c.ai but just go with y/n ig) is about to leave to go to a party in a sort of "revealing" outfit (it's not actually that revealing the triplets are just overprotective as shit in my plot) and they notice a few she's been wearing more revealing outfits these days and they lowkey wonder why. (that's not actually what happens in my plot but i'm gatekeeping it bc it's my comfort c.ai bot) and then you can go from here i guess!! in my plot, reader is a very whiny, easily annoying and whimpery girl, ykwim? like she's so easily hurt / upset. that's one of her main traits so hope it helps the development of the fic! ilysm🫶🏻
stand out
sturniolo triplets x sister! reader
warnings: cursing, mention of shitty ex
a/n: kind of got carried away, hopefully you like it tho
ily <33
“you’re not leaving in that” chris stated for about the fifth time that night. i was starting to get annoyed.
i’ll admit that my shorts were on the shorter side, but everything was covered.
“why chris? why do you care about what i put on my body?”
his jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh.
catching onto the annoyance that was written all over chris’s face, matt stepped in.
“look, what you decide to wear is completely up to you, we aren’t going to tell you what you can and can’t wear.” he placed his hand on my shoulder gently.
“we’ve just noticed that your outfits have been a little more on the revealing side lately-“ i cut him off, already knowing where this conversation was heading.
“ we? so you guys talk about how i dress when i’m not here?” his mouth opened and closed like a fish as my question caught him off guard.
nick then pitched in, “look, we’re genuinely just worried about you. we want to make sure you’re safe”
“i’m fine guys, seriously. i mean, everybody wants to stand out, right?” i watched as all of their faces dropped as they began to catch on.
matt tilted his head at me, “is this about your ex?” i let out a sigh at this.
he knows me too well.
when i broke up with my ex, matt was the person i leaned on. chris and nick were there for me, of course, but matt was the person who took me for late night drives to cheer me up. so, naturally, i spoke to him the most about my feelings.
when i was dumped, my ex told me i was just like every other girl and i tried too hard to fit in. while i tried to act like his words held no affect on me, they hurt me deeply.
they rang through my head constantly, no mater what i did. but, i didn’t want to completely change just because a man decided to use my biggest insecurity against me. so, instead, i decided to switch up my style.
what i failed to realize, however, was that my brothers were able to read me like a book.
and while the change in clothing choice was cute, it wasn’t me. it was uncomfortable.
“i hate that he still has so much power over me. it’s like no matter what i do, i can always hear his comments about me in my head.” i finally spoke.
“what did he say to you?” chris asked, growing concerned.
i looked down at this, feeling tears start to prick at the corner of my eyes.
“pretty much that there was nothing special about me and that i’m boring” i shrugged my shoulders, swallowing the lump that began to form in my throat.
“well he’s just flat-out wrong” chris stated, as though it was the most obvious thing he’s ever said.
i furrowed my eyebrows as i stared at him in confusion.
“um, hello? you’re literally the most insane person i’ve ever met”
i looked at him crazily, “is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“you’re the only person i’ve ever met that goes running for fun. that is borderline psychotic” i narrowed my eyes at him. “trust me, you’re not like any other girl” he finished.
i playfully rolled my eyes at him.
“plus” matt began, “isn’t this the same dude that thought that googled why he had a headache and was fully convinced he was dying?” i couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
nick then joined in, “besides, that motherfucker talks like he’s reading from a script written by the ginny and georgia writers, i promise you’re not missing out”
this sent the three of us into laughing messes. chris reached out for something to hold onto as he started to fall and, seeing as i was standing right next to him, that happened to be me.
chris clutched onto my shoulders as he began to bring me down with him, and the four of us doubled over in laughter.
——————
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf
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linos-luna · 5 months
Text
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My Queen (Pt. 7) • Last part •
Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Yandere, delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, smut, fingering, groping
(Pt. 6) (Last Part)
—————————— 👑———————————
The days come and go. As you plan your wedding, you feel like you’re in a dream. Hyunjin has become even more attentive and protective but you don’t mind. He gives you all the love and attention you could ever want. He wanted you to be happy everyday all day.
Your love for him has become stronger. No matter what anyone says, you know that Hyunjin is the prince that returned you to the castle at took you away from the dangerous world. The world is cruel. Full of awful people that want to hurt you and dangerous structures. It is much more safe to stay in the castle.
Speaking of, you love your castle. You’ve made it your own and decorated as you please. The bedroom is elegant and cozy, kitchen is rich with color and ingredients for the best food, and living room decorated beautifully. Every room was filled with your favorite colors and personal touch. Your castle is gorgeous.
You and Hyunjin have worked so hard on the garden. Growing strawberries, tomatoes and zucchini. Many other foods as well. The flowers? Well you grew some news but kept the older ones as well. The ones you couldn’t see? It’s silly to think they were never there. They were just to beautiful for the human eye to comprehend, but they are there, no doubt.
With the amount of growth and fluoresment present, you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been here. Perhaps a year…? Who knows. And it doesn’t even matter to you.
~~~~~~ 👑
It’s a beautiful spring day and you found yourself in the garden, picking the fresh strawberries from their vines. You can’t wait to eat them with your fiancé. Fresh strawberries, Greek yogurt, and granola. A perfect lunch.
You walk in with the basket of berries, taking them to the kitchen before washing your hands in the sink. You had gotten some dirt on your hands but you didn’t mind.
Hyunjin watched as you washed the strawberries and pulled out some bowls.
“What are you making, my love?” He speaks up suddenly.
“Parfaits.” You replied.
“My Queen, you do not need to work so hard.”
“It’s okay.” You say with a smile while cutting the stems from the strawberries. “I want to make it.”
Hyunjin shrugged, letting you continue. It wasn’t long before you finished and set the bowls on the table.
“My love, it looks amazing.”
“Thanks Jinnie.” You smile when watching him eat. He then feeds you. The fresh strawberries were sweet and delicious.
At some point, Hyunjin gave you a sudden kiss. The taste of strawberries lingered on your and his lips.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I just love you.” He was always so sweet. Hyunjin looked at you with love in his eyes as he gently rubbed your cheek.
“I love you too Jinnie.” You replied with a smile. When finishing your food, Hyunjin gets up and cleans up the dishes. Meanwhile you look at your phone, reading the incoming messages. It was Jihyo. Hyunjin knows how important your friend is to you so he finally let you keep and use your phone. After all, There’s no reason not to trust you.
After responding, you slip your phone back in your pocket and move to the living room. Something was playing on the TV but it was more like background noise as you barely paid attention to it. Hyunjin sat next to you, giving a kiss to your cheek.
“My Queen? Do you know what today is?”
“Hm?”
“It’s our one year anniversary!” Hyunjin said excitedly.
“Oh wow.” You replied, now thinking about it. Had it really been a year??
“My love, it’s been a year since I brought you home.” He chuckled. “How could you forget?”
“I’m losing track of time I guess.”
“My sweet Queen… let me ravish you with love.” He said while turning your head to kiss your lips.
You gently kiss back as he puts his hand on your hip. This kisses were passionate and lips so addicting. You gasped softly as he kissed your neck and pushing you on your back.
Hyunjin looked over you while touching you under your shirt, massaging your braless breasts and continuing to kiss down your neck, nipping every once in a while. You let out breathy moans as he use one hand to palm over your pants.
This had you hot and needy. You desperately pulled your shirt off and tugged down your pants.
Hyunjin loved this and continued by sucking at your breasts and teasing your clit, slipping his fingers under your panties. This had you moaning and whimpering.
“My love, let me please you…” he whispered against your neck before slipping his two fingers in your cunt.
“F-fuck— Jinnie—!”
“Shh… relax my darling.”
Hyunjin slowly went in and out with his fingers, curving them ever so slightly to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves.
Breathy moans escaped your lips and your back slightly arched. It was hard not to sound like you’re crying as tears rolled down your cheeks. You tightly gripped his hair as you were already so close to reaching your high.
“Cmon, my love… cum on my fingers…”
“F-fuck—….” With a loud moan and eyes rolled back, you let go.
After pulling out his fingers, he stuck them in his mouth to taste your essence.
“My Queen…” he breathed. “My Queen is so sweet…”
You stared at him, feeling a bit dazed. His addictive plump limps and hypnotic eyes made you want more. You whimpered a little, needing his attention again. It was only a short bit before he started kissing you again.
“What’s wrong, my love?”
“I just want you…” you replied while holding on to him.
“Yeah? My sweet queen, you’ll always have me.” He smiled while rubbing your cheek. “My love, do you understand how beautiful you are?”
You only shook your head.
Hyunjin chuckled and rubbed your sides. “You are the most beautiful person ever… most kind and loving… no one deserves your graciousness.”
All you could do was blush at his compliments. He did this often but it always had you falling for him all over again.
“My sweet queen, I’ll protect you forever… I’ll keep the hideous world away…” Hyunjin continued giving soft kisses along your neck. “I love you… and I’ll never leave you… but will you ever leave me?”
“I would never.” You managed to get out between kisses.
"My Queen, I got you something," Hyunjin announced as he got up. "For the wedding."
Putting your shirt and pants back on, you followed him to the bedroom. "For your veil, you deserve a crown," he said, presenting a sparkly tiara, undoubtedly an exquisite and expensive piece. "I believe it will go perfectly with whatever dress you pick."
"Wow!" you said excitedly. "It's so pretty!"
Hyunjin smiled, placing the tiara on your head. "My Love, we will be going dress shopping today."
"Really?!"
"Yes. Now go get ready. Keep the crown on."
With a kiss on the lips, you eagerly headed to the closet to get dressed for the outing.
~~~~~~~~ 👑
Hyunjin took you to the finest stores in town to find the perfect wedding dress. His anxiety and paranoia were setting in as he stayed by your side and hyper vigilant. While in a bridal shop, Hyunjin waited patiently in the dressing room until the manager approached him.
"Sir, is that your fiancée?" she asked curiously.
"Yes.”
"Not to be rude, but isn't the bride supposed to go dress shopping with her mother and bridesmaids?"
Hyunjin shot her an annoyed expression. "Well, I'm shopping with her."
"Yes, but—?"
"She only needs me!" he blurted out, causing the woman to back off, concerned about his outburst.
She couldn’t help thinking about it, she feels like she’s seen you before… maybe online or tv…? It had her feeling extra suspicious of Hyunjin.
"Jinnie! I think I found the one!" you cheered as you emerged from the dressing room.
"My Queen, you look stunning!" he complimented, genuinely pleased. "I really like it."
"Then we should get it!"
As you changed, Hyunjin couldn't help but notice the manager staring at him. His paranoia growing, and despite your conversation from the dressing room, his mind wandered. "Something is wrong," he whispered to himself.
He was lost in a battle, tuning out everything around him. The struggle was evident, muttering phrases like "don't take her" until he snapped back to reality, facing a concerned policeman.
"Are you alright?" the officer asked with a raised brow.
"Why wouldn't I be alright? I'm just shopping with my fiancée!" Hyunjin laughed nervously, dismissing any suspicion.
The officer, however, mentioned a report of shady business and a potential missing person.
“Shady?? What do you mean?”
“I mean… you seem to be keeping a really close eye on your ‘fiancée’ and she looks like someone from a missing persons report.”
“Missing?! She’s not missing!”
“Well, not to you, obviously.
“She’s not missing.” He repeated.
“I’ll speak to her—”
“No!” Hyunjin snapped.
“What’s going on?” You said while poking your head out.
“Nothing, my love. Ignore it.”
“No, ma’am.” The cop said while walking up to you. “I just had a question.”
“Oh, okay?” You nodded awkwardly.
“I believe you’re on a missing persons report.”
“She’s not missing!” Hyunjin yelled.”
“Are you here willingly?” The cop said with a sigh.
“What? Of course I’m here willingly! I love Hyunjin!” You say quickly. “We’re gonna get married!”
“Okay. But were you kidnapped or—?”
“Kidnapped?!” You interrupted. “You have this all wrong. Hyunjin saved me. He brought me back to the castle.
“Are you sure?”
“He’s the love of my life! No one loves me like he does.” You say with a smile while looking at Hyunjin who was standing there nervously.
As he questioned you, Hyunjin grew defensive, insisting you weren't missing. The officer wanted to speak with you alone, but you refused,
“Alright, I just want to make sure.” The officer nodded. He was still a bit suspicious
“Ma’am are you sure you wouldnt you like to step to the side for a recorded statement? Maybe to the police station?”
“And leave Hyunjin?” You said with a frown while going to and hugging hyunjin’s arm. “No it’s not safe!”
“It’s the police station, you’ll be—”
“She doesn’t want to go with you.” Hyunjin interrupted.
“I’m sorry, officer but I don’t wanna go. I have to stay with Jinnie and finish getting ready for our wedding.”
The cop frowned, He was 100% you were the missing person but knows that there’s nothing he could do as you were an adult. He apologized and left you guys alone, writing down some notes.
The officer was still suspicious as he left and Hyunjin held you tight. “I told you it was dangerous out here! We must go home!”
You agreed, ready to pay and leave as soon as possible.
On the drive home, you discussed wedding plans, and Hyunjin marveled at your excitement, relieved to be away from the dangers outside the castle.
After returning home, Hyunjin helped you relax before a late dinner. As you sat down, you couldn't shake off the curiosity about the policeman's intentions.
"Jinnie?" you asked.
"Yes, my love?" Hyunjin replied.
"Why did that policeman want me to go with him?"
"Probably to steal you away," he sighed, "and lock you up."
"Why would he do that?"
"There are crazy and dangerous people out there. That's why you must stay here with me."
"Okay," you smiled. "Thank you for protecting me."
~~~~~ 👑
A month passed, and the day of the wedding arrived. The outdoor venue was adorned with your favorite colors and decorations. A priest stood at the altar, ready to officiate the ceremony.
Your friend Jihyo assisted you in getting ready, doing your makeup and hair. As you admired yourself in the mirror, Jihyo struck up a conversation.
"Y/n, are you sure about this..."
"Yes," you smiled, looking back at her.
Jihyo sighed. "Well, are you happy? Genuinely?"
"Mmhm, I am," you replied.
"Okay," Jihyo sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could do. As your friend, she wished for your happiness, and she'd be there if you.
"Y/n, I'm happy for you. If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you. Come see me if you need anything."
You gave your friend a hug, and with that, Jihyo ushered you towards the aisle, where Hyunjin awaited. Tears formed in your eyes as you nodded, ready to marry the love of your life.
As the ceremony unfolded, the music played, your heart was racing. Walking down the aisle, you felt overwhelming joy. Marrying Hyunjin meant spending the rest of your life with the one you love, and that prospect filled you with great happiness. This marked the beginning of the happiest day of your life.
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allsadnshit · 9 months
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My co worker showed me how to set up my voicemail box after a decade of not having one and to my surprise an entire decade of voicemails started coming in. I was listening to the ones from 2014 and it was so many missed moments. My step mom trying to call me during my dads first intervention. I thought she just never said anything. A really happy loving voicemail of my old best friend singing he misses me was wanted to hang out. A million voice messages from my nai nai saying she just wanted to touch base. My first coffee manager telling me I got the job. My first art curator asking if I had anything I wanted to sell.
It took me all my energy at work not to have a complete mental breakdown.
I've been talking so much about grief this year because to my surprise, finally feeling safe and finally starting to process a lifetime of stunted emotions has been the most painful and joyful thing I've ever experienced. No one tells you when your mind and body protect you from harm with disassociation that when you finally come out of it, you will be left alone with all your feelings and the moment will have passed. I feel like I've let everyone I ever loved down, especially when I got sick. I feel like everyone watched my become emotionally unavailable and unable to trust, and pulled away with every hard thing that happened to me this last decade and now the truth is I don't have any friends. No one made it through the wreckage, and I am second guessing if I even did now. I stopped being able to eat anything, go out, or even look my loved ones in the eye my last few years in my hometown and then I feel like I acted so rashly and so emotionally manic calling crying after not talking for months and they must have thought I was so unstable and selfish and now I am scared that's a fair description.
I feel like I wasn't myself for a really long time and nothing could get through to me even though I was desperate for connection. Family, friends, relationships all passed me by and I left everyone disappointed and confused while my chronic pain got worse and cycled into violence with my undiagnosed ocd keeping me housebound.
I feel like I am a million miles away by the time I am turning around hearing my name called out, and all I can do is stand there knowing it's an echo by now.
I don't understand why I am so bad at showing people I love them and need them. Even as I unravel it all in therapy, does it even matter when it's too late? I feel inconsolable and like I've never once been able to make the people who mattered to me felt like they did and now I am too scared to try.
So I'm gonna go home and eat dinner
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redclercs · 1 year
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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
vi. do i really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?
— the one where he ain't reading what they call you lately.
warnings: anxiety tics and symptoms, i–unironically–listened to the lakes a lot while writing this. 3k words.
masterlist ✢ next
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By Marie Nichols
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The first news we got about actress y/n y/ln's new romance came at the start of this month, when she was seen at the Miami Grand Prix with Ferrari's sponsor Elix. What appeared to be only rumors, since y/n and Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc were single at the same time, have been confirmed little by little.
Although it is not like y/n to soft-launch a relationship, she's been hinting at it for several weeks now. From staring lovingly at her new boyfriend as he receives the winner's trophy in Monaco's Grand Prix to instagram posts saying she 'feels like a princess', the last confirmation we needed came yesterday when Twitter went crazy over user @/formulacharles' picture of the new couple, on a romantic date around Monaco.
Opinions are divided on this couple as both #y/nIsOverParty and #YNCHARLES trended at the same time. Most of the negative views on this flourishing romance come from Aidan Kim's fans, who claim it has been happening since before Kim and y/ln broke up around March after dating for three years.
We have gathered some of the best tweets from both sides, to help us make up our minds about the whole situation.
❝@/aidankimluv: I can't believe y/n is rubbing her new relationship in everyone's faces like this! she can't be single and it shows❞
❝@/gr4ndekim: the timing still rubs me off the wrong way, this has been happening for way longer than she wants us to know❞
❝@/ynselixcan I need y'all to touch grass for a second and realize men and women can be friends, and if they are dating it's none of your business anyway❞
❝@/leclercsdiary: they are cute together but tbh without knowing much about y/n... i don't want her to mess with charles' head❞
We are still hoping for an official confirmation, although pictures speak for themselves. Will y/n ever be brave enough to admit she dumped Aidan Kim for a Formula 1 pilot? We'll keep you updated!
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FROM F1GOSSIPXO ON TIKTOK: "FANS CAUGHT Y/N AND CHARLES ON A DATE IN MONACO"
[text to speech assistant voice]: ❝(...) someone on twitter took this picture of them at a famous rose garden in Monaco and the second clip is charles dropping y/n off back at her hotel. i guess all the rumors are true and we have a new grid couple... a frankly problematic couple at that.❞
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May 30th, Montecarlo, Monaco.
It was, in all honesty, a little dumb to believe that you could keep it lowkey if you were going to hang out with Charles.
First, Victoria who normally remembers close to nothing about the nights she gets drunk, remembered perfectly the 'moment' you shared with Charles when he offered to show you around. The whole rebound conversation happened again, much to your dismay.
Then, there was the car. Charles' custom Pista Spider is quite literally, the opposite of lowkey and apparently the only option he was willing to offer for you two to move around Monaco.
Which makes perfect sense, no matter how much you hate it.
There was also the timing. Which was really, really bad, and you blame your ignoring this on the fact that you had a lot to drink the night you said yes to his offer. On a normal basis Charles is the most sought after person in Monaco, him being the Grand Prix winner from two days before, multiplied the attention by a million.
Yet when he called you on Monday night to make sure you were still up for the next day, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. He was being nice and friendly, and you had no reason to deny him other than the anxiety you felt in the back of your neck every time you thought about what people would say if they found out.
And people would find out, sooner or later.
But you are not committing a crime, you tell yourself in front of the mirror. Charles is becoming your friend, which is something you really, really need at this point in your life. Granted, befriending the guy that you’re tangled up in rumors with isn’t the best idea, it’s neither your fault nor his.
So you take a deep breath and fix your hair for the last time before leaving your hotel room. Charles called you a few minutes before to let you know he is waiting in the lobby, and you can feel your palms sweating already.
Charles is nodding attentively to a child with a Ferrari cap who is telling him all about his Monaco GP experience when you step out of the lift.
He waves at you, and his eyes register your appearance in seconds before they return to the child.
“This is my friend y/n,” he tells the little boy as you approach. “She’s a huge Ferrari fan, too.”
The boy smiles brightly and his focus shifts to you, asking what your favorite part of the Grand Prix was and whether you think they can win in Spain. You give him the best answer you can come up with, that the best part was seeing Charles win (to which both Charles and the boy smile) and that yes, you believe it’s Carlos’ turn to win his home race.
Once Charles finishes signing his merch and he makes sure the kid has returned to his parents safely, his whole attention is devoted to you.
“You are really pretty,” he smiles, his accent coming out in the way he pronounces “pretty”.
Lowkey is the word of the day, and that’s also what you had in mind when picking your outfit. A sage green sundress with matching short-heeled shoes. Nothing too garish, but that still makes you feel confident.
“Thank you, you look good yourself.”
It’s a half-assed compliment that comes out of your mouth out of sheer anxiety. He looks incredibly handsome in a light blue shirt that brings out the blue in his eyes and a decent pair of jeans instead of the horrible ones he wore on Sunday.
Charles smiles wider, "Thank you, y/n."
You bite the inside of your cheek in embarrassment, and Charles' eyes go small in amusement.
"Are you ready?" he asks, ending your torment as you feel heat creep up your neck. Charles hesitates in offering his arm to you, and instead puts his palm out for you to walk in front of him.
You nod, starting the walk towards the exit. His car is right outside the door to the hotel, and there are people surrounding it, taking pictures and craning their necks to look inside. It's your turn to hesitate as you stop in your tracks, Charles' chest millimeters away from your body as he comes to an abrupt stop and avoids crashing into you.
"Let me," he says, his semblance more serious as he moves you aside gently. The doorman nods at him and opens the door.
Your anxiety rises as Charles leads you out of the hotel, apologizing in both French and Italian about not taking pictures as he opens the car door for you.
He continues smiling and saying 'thank you' and 'i'm sorry' as he walks around the car, to the driver's seat and climbs inside. The car offers little protection from the outside, but you're grateful for whatever refuge. It's not like you to act like this, but wherever your name appears on the internet lately is full of vile stuff. The mere thought of it makes your hands shake, you're afraid of what they're going to say this time.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly, watching you put your hands on your lap, palms down so the skirt of the dress wipes your sweat.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you reassure, more to yourself than to him. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Charles smiles again, shoulders relaxing as he steers the car away from the crowd.
You look at him, feigning insecurity and he frowns for a moment before you chuckle. "Don't worry, I love surprises."
"What do you think of Monaco so far?" he asks, squeezing the wheel a couple times. If you didn't know better, you'd think he is nervous too.
"Are you kidding? It's beautiful. The Grand Prix was something else, and everywhere I look there's luxury." You gesture around, but the prime example is the car you're riding right now, and the driver who's wearing a $2 million watch.
Charles laughs and nods, "It never stops being beautiful, no matter how much time you spend here. I miss it every time I'm away."
You understand. Because you miss New York so much, it doesn't matter how overrated people say it is. It's become your home and you hate being away from it, especially considering the circumstances that exiled you.
The very good thing about Monaco is that car rides are short. So when you get to your destination, you've barely had time to make things awkward with small talk.
You wait patiently for him to walk to your door and open it once you’ve parked. Charles has put on a pair of sunglasses and you think it’s a shame you can’t see his blue eyes anymore. You discard this thought immediately though, you’re not going to think like this about someone you’re befriending.
“So?” You ask taking his hand as he helps you out of the car. “What place were you so keen on showing me?”
Charles holds on to your hand for a moment too long, and you stare down at them. He lets go, repeating the gesture from earlier to let you walk in front.
“It’s a rose garden,” he begins explaining, leaning a bit forward so he doesn’t raise his voice. “The Princess’ Rose Garden, I saw your picture saying you felt like a princess. I thought you would like it.”
You turn around to face him and this time he isn’t quick enough to avoid crashing in to you. So much for an F1 Pilot’s reflexes.
“You’re not allergic to flowers are you?” He questions, the panicked undertone makes you smile. “y/n?”
“No!” You throw your head back laughing, “I just think it’s adorable how you related the ideas.”
There is a newly installed shade of pink in Charles’ cheeks and he runs a hand through his hair, sheepish. “Well, I’m glad I got it right.”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you are genuinely so excited so clap your hands a little. “The Princess’ Rose Garden! Let’s go!”
Charles still lets you lead, following wherever you go and translating whatever signs aren’t in English already. He too, is genuinely happy to see you so bubbly and excited as you marvel at the colors of the flowers and the arches, and the statues. He’s proud of himself for picking the right place.
“Let me take a picture of you,” he says, as you walk through a white arch speaking excitedly about how this reminds you of Alice in Wonderland. “y/n?”
You look at him over your shoulder with a smile and he snaps the picture before you can react properly or pose.
“Oh no Charles, delete that!” You whine, walking back to him to look at his phone.
“No, you look perfect,” he replies, showing you his screen. “See?” He does not regret a word that has come out of his mouth and it makes you pause, face warming up at the statement.
“Let me take a picture of you, then,” you say, pointing him towards the arch. He’s quick to comply, walking towards the arch and smiling at you, without looking at the camera.
You show him the screen of your phone and he seems satisfied with the picture, as he doesn’t ask you to retake it.
“Should we go down to the lake?” He asks signaling down the path.
You nod, putting your phone back in your purse and resisting the temptation to look at the notifications that crowd your lock screen.
Charles takes your hand once again as you arrive at the lake.
"You might slip in the grass," he explains, clearing his throat.
"Right," you chuckle, but he's right, the little hill you have to pass to get to the edge of the lake looks like a worthy rival to your heels. You know who'd be losing. "Thanks."
You sit down so close your shoulders are touching, but neither moves or speaks for a few minutes. Taking in the way the golden hour falls in the garden, the sun reflects off the surface of the lake and colors your face amber.
You're glad Charles has removed his sunglasses, because you can see his eyes again. The green is more visible now thanks to the golden in the environment.
"Thanks for bringing me here," you finally break the silence, "I really like it."
"I'm glad, y/n," he says, both dimples showing as he smiles. "I'm sorry I couldn't show you more places, though."
All Monday and a big part of today he was busy with interviews and photoshoots, all to celebrate his breaking the Monaco curse. You don't mind, he deserves to be celebrated.
"Maybe another time," you add.
"Whenever you want," his smile widens, and you have to look away from him. Your brain is swarmed in thoughts of how pretty he is, and you wish you could just leave it blank for a minute or two. "Thank you for agreeing to come."
The impulse of saying something that will ruin the mood is greater than your self-control, and curiosity keeps eating you from the inside since last Thursday.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Charles nods calmly, resting his chin on his hand as he faces you. "Anything."
"Do you really not care about... well, what everyone is saying?"
Charles tilts his head slowly, and frowns. "About what?"
"Me. You. Us." you whisper the last word, embarrassed. It feels a lot like 'Us' means something completely different than just being thrown together in a hurriance of wild rumors and lies.
"I don't," Charles doesn't even hesitate, "I don't read all of that. Carlos keeps me up to date, which is ridiculous."
You pinch your thigh lightly, ashamed that even his teammate knows everything that's been said about you.
It's the first time all evening that Charles wishes he could take his words back. "What I mean," he continues quickly, "Is that I don't let people on the internet form my opinion on someone, you, especially."
You return your gaze to him, "I'm sorry people have dragged you into this."
"You don't have to apologize for things that aren't your fault, y/n."
"Well, it does feel like it's my fault." You admit, and you hate the way your eyes sting, you don't want to cry in front of Charles. You really are ruining the whole mood.
"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" Charles is more serious now, trying to catch your avoidant eyes as you blink the tears away. "Something you want me to say? Because I will."
You shake your head no. You don't want him to actively participate in this mess, it's a PR nightmare and Ferrari and him have enough on their plates already.
"Unless you want to say something, Charles."
"There is a lot I want to say," he mutters through gritted teeth, and you're not quite sure what he means.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," he repeats, more lighthearted this time. "And stop whatever it is that you're reading about yourself, too."
"I'm not—"
Charles shuts you down with a look, there is no point in lying to him when, like Mati, he's weirdly capable of seeing right through you.
"You're sweet and talented, and hard-working, and many other positive things I'm hoping to continue witnessing first-hand." He speaks so fast his accent slips in several words.
"Thank you." you say sincerely, and you reach for his hand for the first time ever, giving it a squeeze before letting it go, something he accepts albeit reluctantly.
You sit together for a while longer, the awkwardness from your previous moments together alone is a distant idea, as you don't need to fill the silence anymore. Charles doesn't make your hands sweat in the way that feels wrong, your fingers don't prickle or go numb, your heartbeat—although fast—doesn't make your chest feel tight.
It's okay, you remind yourself, Charles likes you enough.
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"Hello?" you're taking your shoes off, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder.
"y/n!" Vic yells, making you wince, your phone clatters to the floor and you're glad the rug breaks the fall. "Are you back from your date?"
"It was not a date, Vic," you opt to put her on speakerphone, "And yes, I'm back."
"How was it? I saw on Twitter that you were in a garden? Was it cute?"
You sigh, of course this is on Twitter already. "Vic, I'm so serious right now, stop with the Twitter stuff."
"Sorry y/n," she sighs, her tone like a regretful child apologizing to their mom. "But my timeline is just full of them, honestly, I wish I could just reply to people and tell them to back off."
"Just ignore them, please, Vic,"
"I promise. But how was it, your not date?"
"It was great," you immediately regret the sigh that escapes your lips. "Charles is very nice, and the place was super pretty. We went to dinner after which was pretty cool too."
"That is a date, y/n," Vic giggles, "That's amazing! I'm glad you had a good time."
"Thank you," you let yourself fall back on the bed. It was not a date. The anxiety that Charles had helped soothe is back now, it feels like cold water running down your back. "What about you, what did you do today?"
It's 10 pm in Monaco, which means it's around 1 pm in Los Angeles.
Vic starts going off about her day, how she hates the smell of the new face cream she was supposed to release to the public two weeks ago, her trip to the gym with Holly and that other girl whose name you finally learn again—Deanna.
"When are you coming back to LA?" she asks.
You're picking up your stuff from around the room, you have to take a flight tomorrow and you'd rather sleep in, than wake up early to finish your packing.
"Soon I hope," you yawn. It makes no difference to you, spending time in hotel rooms and Vic's house, neither are home. So you're not rushing to go back to her.
"y/n, you promised you'd be here for the opening of the store," Vic is serious now. "You promised."
Closing your eyes, you battle that uncomfortable feeling on your hands. You're sure that you won't get any proper sleep if it doesn't go away.
The opening of Vic's first Presley Beauty store is on Friday, the same Friday you're going to be in Spain.
"I know Vic, I'm sorry. But I have to be with Elix, violating a contract at this point is not a good idea."
"Babe, you said you'd be the ambassador for the first store. People will come if you're there!"
You're not too sure of that right now. Maybe people would show up to throw tomatoes at you, if anything.
"I really am sorry, Vic."
She falls silent on the other side for a few minutes, and you continue packing, waiting for her to gather her feelings. You know you're in the wrong here, breaking a promise to your best friend, but you'd rather not mess up the only job you have right now. Plus, you are certain the publicity her very first store would get from you wouldn't be a good one right now.
"Okay, apology accepted," Vic exhales so hard it makes the microphone crackle. "But you do have to come to the store later, PROMISE ME."
"I promise. I'll be back in LA next Monday and I'll go straight to your store and steal everything."
Vic laughs and you're glad her anger has vanished.
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? After I land in Spain."
"Sure babes," Vic is her cheerful self again, "Have fun and also, say hello to Charles for me."
You roll you eyes. "Bye Vic, love you."
"I love you too, babe."
For the first time in days, you turn your phone off before getting ready for bed. You are not going to scroll endlessly through hashtags with your name. You're not going to read what they're calling you lately, because your friends—at least some of them— aren't.
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─── team principal radio: ❝hello hello, thank you for reading! i hope you've enjoyed this chapter. The slow burn is slow burning friends. I would love to know your thoughts.♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar-2 @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heesung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl
want to join the paddock club? click here!
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gloomysoup · 5 months
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i found a thing that i wrote months ago and forgot about so have a treat i guess :)
cw: domestic violence
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Steve isn't exactly sure how it started. It could have been the dishes, or the laundry, or the host of other things Eddie has been avoiding that Steve has had to do himself. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but Steve was tired. He was stressed. He had been working long hours and the weight of his pregnancy had been dragging him down the last few weeks. So no, Steve isn't exactly sure what happened, how it started. All he knows is that they're arguing.
Eddie’s yelling. Steve’s voice cracks and breaks with every attempt to fight back. It's loud. It's heated. They're standing on the edge of a cliff, and someone is going to make the jump. Someone is going to tumble over the edge, and there's no coming back once they do. Steve knows that. He's seen the cliff his entire life. His parents were always standing at the edge. They willingly took the jump many times before. Steve’s life had always been situated right there on the cliff side, waiting for it to crumble out from under his feet. He thought he'd escaped when he found Eddie. He thought for sure that Eddie was safe. That he would build Steve a home far away from the cliff, on solid land. That Steve would never have to face the water again. And yet here they are.
They've been arguing for a while, voices raised and venom spat back and forth. They're aiming to hurt each other. Steve hates it, but he refuses to back down. The words are spilling from his mouth before he can even think about stopping them. It doesn't matter. Eddie shoots back just the same. They're dangling over the edge now. Steve knows it's only a matter of time before one of them snaps.
It's Eddie.
One second, Eddie is saying something about Steve’s family, his childhood. It settles in Steve’s brain as his husband thinking he won't be a good parent to their unborn child. He’s going to fuck it all up just like his parents did. So he shoots back just as harshly. Maybe more.
The words had barely left his mouth before Eddie’s palm was colliding with his cheek. A sharp smack echoed through the room as they both fell silent. Eddie looked completely shocked, like he hadn't expected to do that. Like he didn't know he ever would. Steve should have known. He should have known nothing would ever be different. He was destined to fall into the same patterns as his parents.
Steve swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Okay,” he whispered before turning his back and walking away. He shut himself in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror was almost a spitting image of his mother. His face was flushed, eyes red with the effort of holding back his tears. Eddie’s hand was imprinted on his cheek in a bright red mark. His hands were shaking. The room was closing in on him and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stay here right now. He needed to get out.
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Steve? Baby? I'm sorry. I- I don't know what got into me. I didn't mean to- I never wanted to hurt you, honey, please. Please open the door. I'm so sorry.”
Steve didn't answer. He couldn't. His ears were ringing. It sounded like the same empty apologies his father always gave every time he laid his hands on Steve’s mother. Deep down, part of Steve knew Eddie was nothing like his father. This was not the same thing. Eddie was different.
But there was a mark on his cheek and the sting of his hand lingering there.
He loved Eddie, and he wanted to believe him, but he had a baby to think about. This small being was still inside him, vulnerable to the outside world. He couldn't take that risk. He wouldn't. He needed to get out.
He opened the door and slipped past Eddie, who had tears running down his bright red cheeks. They were flushed from anger. Not from pain like Steve’s.
He reached for Steve. “Baby-”
“Don't,” Steve whispered, shaking his head and holding up his hand to stop Eddie from touching him.
“Baby, please. I'm so sorry. I- I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry. Please.”
Steve shook his head and made his way down the hall to their bedroom. He grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and started filling it with clothes. Eddie followed him in, but kept some distance.
“Where are you going?” Eddie's voice shook, breaking as he watched Steve pack his things.
“I can't be here right now.” He shoved another handful of clothes haphazardly into the bag. “I'm sorry, Eddie. I need to be somewhere else.”
“Stevie, please don't do this. I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I swear I'm never going to do anything like that ever again. Please.”
Steve shook his head and zipped up the bag. “I want to believe you.”
“But you don't?”
“I can't. With the baby-” He looked up at Eddie, the tears finally rolling down his cheeks. “I just need some space.”
Eddie stepped forward, reaching his hands out. Steve took a step back, and Eddie froze. His arms dropped to his side. He took a shuddering breath.
“I'm sorry,” Steve whispered before leaving the bedroom. Eddie followed him to the door, standing in the middle of the living room.
“Are you coming back?”
“I don't know.”
“Do I get to know anything?”
“I think it's best if you don't.”
“This is what you need?”
Steve sighed and shook his head. “I can't be here right now, Eddie. I love you, but I won't feel safe if I stay. My mom always stayed.”
Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand. Just- please just let me know you're safe, wherever you go. I need to know you're safe, Steve.”
Steve nodded, his hand on the doorknob. “I will. I promise.”
“I love you. Please don't forget that. I love you so much, and I'm so fucking sorry for what I did.”
“I know. I'm sorry too.”
He left. The door closed with a soft click behind him. He choked down a sob as he made his way down the path to the driveway. He got in his car, throwing the duffle in the passenger seat and starting the engine. He could barely see through the tears as he backed out of the driveway and took off down the road. He broke into painful sobs as he turned the corner, and their house disappeared.
-
it could be something. idk. is this something? i wrote it on a whim forever ago. it could be omegaverse, it could be trans steve, who knows 🤷‍♀️ i never thought that far ahead tbh. again, it was a whim. if it's something, maybe i'll continue it who knows. anyway, happy tuesday/wednesday guys :D
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writerblue275 · 2 months
Note
I read Heartsteel!Sett becoming a dad and AUUUUUH MY HEART I LOVED IT 😭❤️😭❤️
and now I gotta predictably ask about Heartsteel!Kayn becoming a dad cuz I’m wEAK HFJFJFHHF
Mystic!! Hello!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed my Heartsteel!Sett dad headcanon! But ooooh Heartsteel’s resident bad boy becoming a dad? I love it. Let’s gooooooo! (Also listen I totally get it. I’m WEAK for Kayn too he's just such a menace to my sanity I swear to god.😭)
Heartsteel!Kayn becoming a dad
Previous members: Sett
Genre: Headcanon
Type: FLUFF (with slight frank discussion of unprotected sex and v slight suggestive undertones at one point.)
Gender: Not necessarily specified but mention of carrying a pregnancy and such (though sex does not equal gender as we all know).
TW: Swearing. Discussion of risks of unprotected sex. Discussion of pregnancy things and labor.
Extra context: In this instance we’re assuming a well-settled relationship. Like cohabitation and shit.
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So the start of this really depends on on an important factor: Is the baby planned? Because while I think Kayn’s course of action and thoughts would eventually line up on the same path regardless if the baby is planned or not, his initial reaction I could see being SUPER different. In this scenario, let’s say the baby isn’t planned:
Now of course Kayn knew there was a risk. Both of you did. No matter how prepared and careful both of you were before/while/after having sex, nothing is truly 100% effective at preventing a pregnancy besides abstinence. And let’s be so for real, abstinence and Kayn are like oil and water. Also it’s not like you didn’t want him. You certainly enjoyed yourself as much as he did.
And sure he’d thought a little bit about an accidental baby.
But not MUCH. And he certainly didn’t expect it to actually happen.
So when you tell him the news and show him the positive pregnancy test, it’s almost like he’s hit by lighting.
Kayn freezes, his wide eyes glued to the positive pregnancy test in your hand. “P-pregnant? Holy shit, (Y/N), you’re pregnant?
You sigh and nod. “Y-yeah…and I-I don’t know what to do…I don’t know what you want to do. I kn-know this isn’t r-really part of our p-plans right n-now. I-I wasn’t positive that’s what was g-going on until I took the s-second test today...” your voice fades off and your bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly.
The change in your voice has him looking back at your face, and seeing the distress in your eyes, Kayn quickly, but gently, reaches out and pulls you to him, wrapping you in a tight hug. He realizes this is as much of a shock to you as it is to him.
As you burrow against his shoulder and let out a sniffle, he kisses the top of your head. “Hey…hey, it’s okay, angel,” he murmurs. “Please don’t cry…please don’t cry, baby…I’m just surprised, that’s all. Yes this isn’t what we planned for right now, but I guess when the hell does life ever go according to plan?”
“Y-you’re not upset? Or mad?” your voice trembles.
Kayn gently makes you look at him, pecking your lips softly. “Baby, why would I be upset or mad? It’s not like you’re at fault for anything. I was just as much involved in this. Besides, we talked about the possibility of having kids in the future. And while we didn’t expect this part of our future to come so soon, what I know is you’re the person I want to have my future with. I love you. You make me the best version of myself and I can’t see my future with anyone else but you. If you want to have this baby, then I’ll be right next to you the entire way, helping you kick pregnancy’s ass and we’ll raise the coolest and most badass kid anyone has ever met.”
You let out a little laugh at that and wipe your eyes.
He grins at your reaction. “So don’t worry about what I want. Because all I want is for you to be happy, (Y/N). Whatever you want to do, I love you and I’m with you all the way.” He emphasizes his point with a kiss to your forehead.
Kayn’s reaction was better than you could have ever imagined. And you know he means everything he said, so…you and him decide to become parents.
And while of course becoming a father meant some things had to change, it wasn’t as big of a behavior shift as one might think.
He’d already given up drinking/substances (sober!Kayn headcanon returns!) and he wasn’t as much of a party animal as he used to be before he met and fell in love with you. He wasn’t kidding when he said you bring out the best version of himself.
Can you imagine Kayn telling the rest of Heartsteel the news? (I think he’d tell them early on since he’d want to be able to go to your appointments and such.) Their mix of shock and glee.
Ezreal: *Nearly levitating in excitement* “No fucking way!!! Wait can I be the godfather??? I call dibs on being the godfather!!”
Everyone else: *Jaws dropped, eyes wide, and staring at Kayn. Yone’s second cold brew of the day is now splattered on the floor.* (😂)
Kayn: *frowns* “What?? Turns out the idea of being a dad actually sounds pretty cool...”
*Raucous cheering commences and Kayn becomes the bottom of a dog pile of happy band mates/friends*
And trust, he’s keeping all of Heartsteel updated on how you’re doing. They are now very used to Kayn rambling on and on about your last appointment, how the nursery is going, how big the baby is this week, etc…
You might not expect it, but he’s super involved in your appointments, asking your OBGYN all sorts of questions. He’s genuinely curious and he wants to make sure he learns and understands as much as possible.
He will take off as much time as necessary to take you to appointments and Lamaze classes. Thankfully the rest of Heartsteel understands and they are cool with it.
And when Kayn sees the tiny blob at your first ultrasound, you notice him discreetly clear his throat as he hugs you tightly.
You quickly realize this kid has their father already wrapped around their little finger…and their little finger isn’t even developed yet!
Surprisingly excellent at helping you through bouts of morning sickness. He’s happy to hold back your hair if need be, and he’ll always help you straighten/freshen up once you’re through a spell.
Wasn’t prepared for the hormonal mood swings at first, tbh. The first time you burst into tears over a cute little kitten video, Kayn was genuinely a little alarmed. But he quickly realized what was going on.
Your crazy cravings don’t phase him. He’s always down to run out and grab you whatever food you want.
And not just food either. He’s ready to run out and grab any kind of supplies for you (though he very jokingly complains about it. But he makes it very clear he’s just kidding and he doesn’t actually mind).
And despite all the physical changes to your body, Kayn makes it clear he still finds you attractive. He makes that VERY clear. 😉
Being with you already brought his soft side out. That just increases exponentially while you’re pregnant. Kayn absolutely loves to play the guitar for you and the baby. He’ll play lullabies while you two are unwinding from the day. (If you sing, sing along with him because oh my god it makes him so happy when you do. He’d love to pass on a love of music to this baby early.)
And when he’s not playing guitar, he’s reading through the absolute mountain of parenting books he bought/borrowed from the library.
He’s trying to be as prepared as humanly possible. But there’s also an underlying anxiety to his obsessive reading. The last thing he wants is to let you or the baby down. Be sure to reassure him you believe he’ll be a good dad.
(In the Heartsteel universe we’re not exactly told what Zed is to Heartsteel!Kayn, but considering his role and the relationship between the two in base Runeterra lore, I’m imagining Zed as Kayn’s adoptive father.)
He’s calling Zed often and asking him for advice. And Zed is ready to assist you if Kayn is busy with Heartsteel or out of town for something. Just text him.
Kayn’s super eager to find out the sex of the baby. One of the first questions he asked the OBGYN was “How long until we know whether it’s a boy or girl?”
He doesn’t have a preference one way or the other, he just wants to know. The baby will be so loved regardless.
So once the two of you are at the 20-week ultrasound appointment, he’s so excited to finally get an answer.
And when the OBGYN reveals the baby is a girl? Holy shit Kayn’s so thrilled. He’s so happy he starts crying and laughing as he hugs you. (Tough bad boy becoming the biggest girl dad oh my GODDDDDDD 😭.)
And now that he knows the sex of the baby, this man is going to go OFF when it comes to buying things for her.
He found a black onesie with a pink skull and crossbones (with a bow) that says “Punk Rock Girl.” He bought four.
And once it’s time for the baby to come? Kayn is incredible. There’s a small wave of panic at the beginning because “holy fuck oh my god it’s actually fucking happening.” But he quickly realizes that panicking won’t help shit in this scenario. So he takes you to the pre-packed car (that he did himself and triple checked), takes a deep breath, and gets you to the hospital.
Kayn is your biggest advocate in the hospital. He’s making sure you are being listened to when it comes to how you’re feeling and what you want.
He’s encouraging you the whole way. Leading you through your Lamaze techniques, telling you to squeeze his hand as hard as you need to, and encouraging you to swear as much as you need to.
And even when you start cursing him out from pain for being “a god damn sexy and charismatic jackass and doing this to me, putting me in this position,” he keeps his cool, instead apologizing to you and telling you he’s right here and that he loves you.
Once it’s time for you to push, Kayn is right next to you, wiping your forehead, making sure you’re taking deep breaths, and counting you into pushes.
“Look at me, (Y/N). Eyes on me.” Kayn’s voice is gentle but urgent as he gently puts his finger on your chin and turns your head towards him. “That’s it, beautiful. Holy shit, you’re doing so well. I love you so much and I’m so fucking proud of you. Like doc said, one more big push and she’ll be out. Deep breath. I’ll count down from three and when I say “push” you give it all you got, okay? Ready? Alright angel, let’s meet our little girl. Breathe in....and 3…..2…..1…..push!”
And you do it. You give one final push and out she comes, squalling loudly, covered in vernix (newborn goop).
And Kayn finally lets all his emotions go, hugging you tightly and nuzzling your neck as he starts to tear up.
His voice is muffled against your neck. “I’m so fucking proud of you, (Y/N). She’s here….our daughter is here.” He lets out a happy laugh and kisses your forehead, gently wiping away your tears. “You alright, Angel? Can I get you anything?”
You hug him tightly, exhausted but happy, shaking your head. "Not besides babygirl. How is she?”
He nods. "They’re getting her cleaned off. (Y/N), she is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just like you.”
The L&D nurse walks over. “Dad? Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?”
Kayn’s face lights up and he smiles at you. “Hell yeah…”
The sight of your partner carefully cutting your daughter’s umbilical cord is extremely sweet. He's being so careful, almost as if he's afraid he'll accidentally hurt her.
And as he looks down at her tiny form, he swears to himself right then and there, he's not letting anyone or anything harm her.
And once they hand her to you and you gently tease him as his happy tears fall, he just looks up at you with a grin, not even trying to play his tears off as "dust in my eyes" like he sometimes does.
You can’t help but laugh as he comments on her lung capacity and how she’s already ready to be a singer.
"She's what, not even ten minutes old and she already beats Ezreal's lung capacity and his higher range! He's gonna be so fucking jealous!"
(A/N: Ok so I know I stopped with Sett’s at the hospital right after labor, but I have an extra tidbit for Kayn’s and I NEED to write it down.)
You know how when athletes/musicians have babies/little kids, the other parent might bring them to cheer on the famous parent but they cover their ears with really strong noise-cancelling headphones to protect their ears/hearing?
Imagine doing that for Kayn at Heartsteel shows!!! Dressing up baby girl in a small version of his paranoia jacket with custom Kayn-designed stitching on the back (courtesy of Sett).
And imagine if Kayn got custom ear protection for her. And on each earphone is a print of his Rhaast mask, matching the custom necklace he bought you early on in your relationship. “So everyone knows who's with me.”
Ah! That would be so fucking cool. And when he sees the two of you the first time you bring her, oh my god, his heart is ready to burst. Especially when you blow him a kiss and wave one of her little hands at him. Kayn can’t help but grin like an absolutely besotted idiot for a second. Honestly you two being at his shows to cheer him on is his favorite thing. It reminds him why he does what he does. For his little family.
Who knew this bad boy could turn into such a family man? 🥹
Ahhhh thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my latest contribution to Dad!Heartsteel headcanons!! I was so excited to get this request!! 2/6 done. Let me know which Heartsteel member should become a dad next! 💙
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small-sinclair · 2 months
Text
Musical Muse
Vincent Sinclair x reader
House of Wax Slasher band!au
Tw: Vincent was in a fire (he’s okay), some hints at sex but nothing graphic described, let me know if I missed anything!
A gift for @im-his-druidess and au by @arkunder
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It was Vincent’s first night home for a 7-month-tour around North America. Late night FaceTime calls, texts messages, postcards, poems— it was good to see him home. The penciled in a two-week break for Lester’s doctor appointments and for a mental break. It was good to rest and sleep in for a moment. All three of them needed to recover from the accident—
He takes a deep breath and let it out slowly. He won’t dwell on it. Not now at least. Lester is safe and Bo’s hands were healing. That’s all that matters now.
Vincent tried to be quiet when he entered. He hung his base on the hook and stopped to look at the photos of you both. One of you two in the studio, another in a band shirt, and a lovely one of you and him at the alter, saying your vows.
As soon as he heard your footsteps flying down the steps, he felt his heart pull. “You’re home!” You shouted smiling, leaping up.
He threw his duffel bag on the floor in the doorway just in time to catch you. He spun you around in the air, smiling under his half wooden-plated mask. He blushes as your kisses littered his half-shown face.
“I missed you!” You yelled, giggling as he lowered you back to the floor. He rests his forehead against yours and held your hips just memorize you once more. “I really missed you, Vincent.” You lift your hands and hold his face. “You were gone forever.”
He nods in agreement. He didn’t want to sign anything, not just yet. Vincent didn’t want this moment to be over. Having you back made his unwritten melodies complete and he could hear notes play as he takes you in. You are his muse for most songs after all.
He took your hand and guided it to his mask, gesturing to you to take it off. Your feather-like hands took off his mask slowly and he closed his eyes, shivering at the cool air. His mask hung in your hand, and you smiled when you saw his face. He’s just as beautiful as the day he left you. Your free hand held his scarred cheek, his head leaning into your touch, while your eyes tracing every bit of him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, your hand, then ending with your lips. He pulled away before holding you close to deepen his kiss.
He has time to make up. Seven whole months without your touch, your embrace… he is a sinner. Your sinner. His deity. He has to find forgiveness.
With ease, he lifts you up, carries you with his arms under your legs, and heads for the bedroom down the hall.
~~~~~~
As you slept on his chest, Vincent held up his song book, writing silently, as a watched eye on you. Your shoulders were bruised with his love and affection like his. He only wanted to be closer to you and more. What praise can he give but love for you?
A song will do.
A song just for you so others can sing praises of you, be followers of you, but none will ever be as faithful and loyal as him.
He hummed the chorus one more time before closing his book just in time for you to wake up. He sat his book aside and laid flat on his back. You nuzzled into his neck and left a small kiss over his adam’s apple. A relaxed sigh escaped his throat as he threw his head to the side.
“Did you miss me?”
He nods, tracing his answer in your skin, ‘Yes.’
“Bed was too cold while you were gone,” you noted, his thumb gently making circles in your back. “But sleeping in your shirt’s comforted me.” You drew a heart in the center of his chest. “I took care of the plants, too. The cactus gave birth so there’s baby cactuses. Guess that makes us grandparents or something.”
He smirks and chuckles.
Silence was warm and comfortable between you two. The soft thumping of his heartbeat made house feel like home again. “…I really missed you,” you murmured. You felt Vincent’s lips in your hair as he pulled you closer to him. In a way, that was him showing that he’s here and you’re safe. “For a while, I went crazy thinking you weren’t coming home. I saw the fire at that wax museum you and your brothers were playing, the wax falling Lester’s back, and they got a video of your mask melting…” your voice trailed as he stiffened at the memory.
If the silence is too loud, he can still hear his baby brother’s voice screaming in pain and agony. Bo and he made dirt out of the inferno, but Lester was trapped, scared and alone. He remember he took off his mask before running back on Bo’s heels; his mask felt too heavy to wear that night. He still sees how bright the orange and yellow flames were as Bo moved wood and metal off his back. He ended up burning some spots on his hands but he doesn’t care. He was just as desperate as Vincent to get their brother out. Each twin took an arm and raced out with him before the museum’s gas could explode. Bo and he cradled their brother then paramedics rushed to his side and took him to the hospital.
He remembered how the world of heavy rock and metal was quiet for the night.
That’s why Bo canceled two weeks of interviews that night, 16 days ago, so they can recover from everything.
He gripped your body tighter and held you closer. You figured he must’ve been scared because he didn’t give you room to wiggle or move. Your hands held his arms and closed your eyes. “I’m happy you’re okay and safe. I’m happy and thankful.”
Vincent made a soft noise, agreeing with you.
“Just want to stay like this and cuddle,” you said, not asking. Luckily he nods in agreement, lifting the blanket up higher over your shoulders.
He didn’t want anything else but this. Vincent wanted you in his arms, in his heart, engraved into his mind. He’ll finish the song and draw a picture of you to put up in the bus. For now, he’ll focus on you and the reality of this feeling.
The sunset over the town like a dream.
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midmourn · 7 months
Text
traitor
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title traitor
pairing lee jeno x gender neutral!reader
summary you know what jeno is doing behind your back, but you kept quiet anyways so you could keep him. guess it didn't really matter in the end, because he still betrayed you.
warnings angst, mentions of cheating, jeno's like an asshole but he believes he's not, brief mentions of loved one dying
word count 1,450
author's note sorry jeno ... and the rest of dream when i make theirs. please give me feedback, it encourages me to continue writing !! reposting from my old blog.
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"Stop staring," Haechan murmured over your shoulder, making you sigh as you stabbed your fork into your meat. "They'll notice."
"And he'll, what? Come to confront me?" You snort, rolling your eyes as you tear your gaze away from the happy couple. "Like hell. I wish." You bring a piece of meat up to your mouth and angrily chew, "I just don't understand! It's been two weeks since we broke up, and he's already dating someone else?" Haechan stayed quiet as he played with his food, knowing it'd be best just to let you get your feelings out. "How the hell do you fall in love with someone else in two weeks?! It's just not possible."
"You know," he said quietly, and that was all he had to say to make you go quiet.
Yes. You knew.
You don't know how they met, Jeno would never tell you. All you knew was that just one day, she showed up in his life and he was completely enamored by her. You weren't a fool, you could tell by the way he said her name and the way his eyes shined whenever she somehow showed up at the same place you two were at.
"So you're going to hang out with her?" You ask, eyebrows raised at the dark-haired boy in front of you. He slowly swallowed his food and nodded, not offering more than that. But you had to dig more into it. You needed more information. "Just her?"
"Other people will be there, too," he said dismissively, but you weren't done.
"Anyone I know?" You hummed, tilting your head as you took a sip of your drink. You feigned calmness, but you and him both knew that the anger was boiling in your veins, waiting. And waiting.
"Maybe," Jeno sighed, setting down his fork. "But it's totally cool, right? 'Cause her and I are just friends." Friends ... That's what they all say, Jeno. Does he truly think you’re stupid?
You stared at him unnervingly, before saying, "Right." If that's what you want me to believe, you remarked in your head.
"He'll never know," you murmured out of nowhere to Haechan. He tilted his head at you, so you continued. "He thinks he didn’t do anything wrong by not cheating on me, but does it really count when he was still talking to her during our relationship?"
Haechan didn't respond.
"Are you serious?" You shouted, a laugh escaping your lips after. You run your hands down your shirt, shaking your head as you gritted your teeth. Jeno stood a bit before you, eyes down on the floor. "You're really ditching our date to go comfort her?"
"She's upset, Y/N," he said quietly. "And we're friends."
"The stupid bitch doesn't have any other friends than you?" You questioned loudly. "Seriously? She has to take my boyfriend away from me on our date night? Jeno, I've barely seen you all week because of her!"
"Don't be paranoid," Jeno's jaw clenched. "Nothing is happening between us, I promise."
You stayed silent for a moment before saying, "I didn't say there was."
Jeno's head lifted up from the floor to stare at you silently.
The silence was air constricting, but you didn't say anything and merely turned away to walk out of his apartment. Just like you thought, he didn't stop you.
The first time you cried over Jeno was right after the break-up before it turned into seething anger. It was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life, especially because you knew it was for her. And it was because of you, not because of him like he said. 'It's not you, it's me,' were the exact words he said. The cliche words everyone said while breaking up. You couldn't even believe he had the audacity to say it to your face.
The second time you cried over Jeno was now.
"Oh, God," Haechan sighed, wrapping his arm around you and trying to steer you away from the drinks, "Let's go."
"What?" You frowned, digging your heels into the ground as you tried to continue filling your drink up, "Why? Let me finish my drink, Haechan."
"Y/N," he whined like a child before looking over your shoulder and hurriedly saying, "Jeno and his girlfriend are coming over here! Let's—"
"Hey." You tensed slowly, eyes slowly moving up to look in front of you despite the two being on your right side. He couldn't have waited until you had left? Who the hell did he think he was? You clicked your tongue before stepping back and turning to face them, Haechan being dragged with you since his arm was still around your shoulder.
Jeno had a sweet smile on his face, but you knew how he really was. And what he really was here for. His arm was wrapped around her waist, you still had no idea what her name was. Or maybe you did and just blocked it out of your memory. You probably did. The girl seemed clueless of the situation, but maybe she was just a really good actress. So were you.
"Hi," you said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, we'll get out of your way. We're finished, anyway." At your words, Haechan turned the two of you around to walk away and join your other friends at the other side of the party, but Jeno spoke up again.
"No, no, it's cool," he chuckled slightly and you gritted your teeth, eyes roaming around. "I also wanted to talk to you, since— you know, we haven't really spoke and you blocked me on everything so—"
"Then maybe you should get the hint," Haechan sighed, turning around without you to face Jeno. "Like, seriously? They blocked you on everything and you're still here trying to talk to them?"
"I just—"
"It doesn't matter what you wanted," you huffed, turning around and glaring at him. The girl looked between the three of you like it was a tennis ball match. "I don't want to talk to you, that's why I blocked you, Lee Jeno."
"Y/N," he chuckled uneasily, shifting on his feet and his arm fell from around the girl's waist. "We—"
"I don't care," you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, "We broke up, you're in the past, so let's leave it at that, alright?" You sent them both a sweet smile before tugging on Haechan's arm to follow you to the opposite side of the party. You didn't stop walking until you knew they could no longer see you.
"Wow," Haechan whispered in amazement, "That was so cool of you, Y/N Y/L/N!" He looked over his shoulder to see if he could see them before turning back to you. "You're seriously such a good actor, I—" He paused, blinking at you. Your head was down, staring at the ground and he blinked again. "Y/N? Are you okay?”
"No," you whispered, inhaling and exhaling. "No, I'm not okay."
Haechan didn't wait before taking your drink and setting it on the ground before pulling you into a hug, his head resting on your shoulder. His hug was warm and comforting, full of love but it still didn't help the Jeno shaped hole in your heart. Your hands clutched at the shirt of his back, shuddering breaths leaving your body and tears slipping down your face.
"I hate him," you gasped between breaths, squeezing your eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. Your heart painfully clenched in your chest and all you wanted to do was reach into your chest and tear out your heart. You wished it was possible. "I hate him! How could he do this to me? After— after everything? I loved him when he was a fucking asshole to everyone! I defended him and helped him when he couldn't even—" You stopped talking, resting your head on Haechan's body. "I wish we never met."
Haechan didn't say anything, simply squeezed his arms around your waist and let you cry your heart out. It was for the best, as always, to let you speak your thoughts and let you cry. He knew you had always been one to hold in your emotions until you just couldn't take it anymore, it happened when your grandmother died and you never cried about it or talked about her anymore. You did the exact same thing when Jeno broke up with you.
"I hate him," you murmured into his shirt as you shook your head to yourself. "I hate him so much— he's a damn, damn— traitor!"
"I know," he sighed, resting his cheek on the side of your head. "I know."
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sour series masterlist. masterlist. rules.
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theewokingdead · 7 months
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Breaking Free - Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Plus Size f!Reader
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Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size f!Reader Summary: You’ve always felt insecure about your body, especially since your last relationship. It isn’t until you meet Frankie that you wonder if there is more to life than worrying about your appearance. He tells you he loves your body, worships it, makes you feel things you've never felt before. Can you finally feel confident in your own skin? Can you finally break free from your body-hating demons and let yourself love who you are - and let Frankie love you? Word Count: 8.8k+ Rating: Mature – 18+ ONLY POV: First Person Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.  A/N: I took over the following ask received by @musings-of-a-rose: "Frankie and the reader (Fem) has been dating for a year and they are completely in love especially Frankie, but the reader is extremely insecure about her body, even if Frankie says he love her body and everything about her, so every time they are in private they have to do it with the lights off but Frankie doesn't really matter about, he give you the time you need, until one night you decide to face your insecurities and surprise Frankie, please do it with all the smut you can." I’ve never answered an ask before because I’m terrified of disappointing people. I guess this is me, like Reader, facing some of my insecurities. I hope you enjoy! Hope this is enough smut! **Reader is plus sized with stretch marks and cellulite, but is otherwise not described. **Post-Triple Frontier but no mention if he has a child or not Please follow @theewokingdeadwrites to get notifications when I post new fics
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“What?” I question, leaning towards Frankie, who’s standing next to me with a wide smile and a look of absolute adoration in his eyes while looking at me. The crowded bar bustles around us, filled with people and music and chatter, an atmosphere of excitement filling the room with Christmas just around the corner.
“Nothing,” he replies, practically having to shout over the noise of the bar. He seems embarrassed that I caught him admiring me, but he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He never is. “It’s just…you look incredible tonight. I mean, you always look incredible, but…” He awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing. “I just can’t believe you’re mine.”
I dip my head, hiding a shy smile, never one to easily accept a compliment. “Thanks,” I say softly but sincerely before sipping the drink in my hand.
It’s odd, hearing someone compliment my appearance. I’ve given up on ever finding myself beautiful; it’s never crossed my mind that other people could still find me attractive. I’ve never heard as many positive things as I’ve heard from Frankie these last few weeks. It feels strange and wonderful, but I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be able to believe him.
Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that this is normal. This is how a relationship should be, how a boyfriend should treat his girlfriend. Just because I can’t see my body through his eyes doesn’t mean I shouldn’t trust his words.
Slowly, I tilt my head back up, my eyes meeting his gaze. I can feel the corner of my mouth curving into a sly smile. “I’m pretty sure you don’t own me though,” I reply teasingly, my voice playful. My heart is pounding in my chest as I bask in the thrill of our interaction, waiting for his response. Though we are just two people standing in a bar, it feels like we are each other’s entire universe.
As he stands there before me, I am struck by how the light catches in his deep brown eyes, causing them to twinkle like stars. His broad shoulders fill out his shirt perfectly, making him look both strong and gentle at the same time.
Frankie laughs, his eyes sparkling with joy. “No, I don’t own you…” he says, his voice trailing off as he leans in closer to me. “But say the word and I’ll make you mine.”
I smile, mischievously. “I thought I was already yours, Francisco?”
He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “I meant in a different way, bebita,” he whispers. “I want to make you mine in every way possible.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his words, my heart pounding faster as I look up at him.
The corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk as he leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across my cheek. His hand slides down to rest on the small of my back. He leans in closer, brushing his lips against my ear. “I want to take you home with me,” he murmurs.
My eyes go wide, my cheeks flush as I realize the heated implication behind his words. My body is already responding to his touch. I lean in closer to him, the noise of the bar fading into the background as I focus solely on him.
“I want to worship you,” he continues. His voice is low and raspy, sending a shiver through my body. “I want to make you feel so good that the only name you remember is mine.”
My heart races at his words, my stomach clenching with anticipation. I never thought I could feel this way about someone, never thought I could be so deeply in – dare I say it? - love. But with Frankie, everything feels different.
“Okay,” I reply, my voice quiet. “Make me yours, Francisco.”
The ride to his place is silent, but my mind is racing. Anticipation bubbles up from my stomach and makes its way through the rest of my body, like a hot drink sloshing in a cup. I steal glances at Frankie, drinking in his rugged features and muscular build. The way his hand grips the steering wheel makes me ache for him, imagining those strong hands on my body, the rough skin sliding against the softness of mine. I almost tremble with need for him. But I’m also afraid that he’ll take my clothes off and doesn’t like what he sees.
It's been longer than I care to admit since I’ve been completely nude in front of anyone. And Frankie has told me that he loves my body, but until now, I haven’t been comfortable enough with him to take my clothes off. We’ve never done anything more than making out and heavy petting before, and I’m terrified.
As we step inside his apartment, I can feel my nerves intensifying. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before turning to face him. He stands before me, his eyes roaming over me hungrily, making my heart race with a mixture of fear and excitement. His gaze lingers on my curves, and for a moment, I feel self-conscious, but then he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush my hair from my face.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips closing in on mine. I melt into his kiss, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, his hands roaming over my body, igniting every nerve in me. I moan against his lips, unable to resist his touch any longer.
Frankie breaks away from the kiss, his eyes dark and lustful. “I need to have you,” he growls, his hand sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me closer to him.
I can feel the sharp jut of his erection pressing against me, and the thought that he wants me makes me burn with desire. Somehow, we reach his bedroom, Frankie kicking the door closed behind him. He turns to reach for the light switch on the wall, but I quickly grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him.
“Don’t,” I blurt out, my voice echoing through the room. The light filters through the blinds from the moonlight and streetlights outside – enough so that it isn’t pitch black, but the shadows still lurk in every corner. It’s all we need – I don’t want him to see my flaws, to see my heart racing like a wild animal inside my chest. I want, more than anything, to share a passionate night with Frankie, but I can’t let him see me – not when my body is the way it is.
I stand there frozen, watching as he moves closer, a small part of me knowing that he’s not looking at my imperfections. He sees something else entirely. Something that makes me feel seen for the first time in years.
“Are you okay with this?” Frankie questions, concern laced in his voice. “I don’t expect anything from you just because you got this far. If you’re not ready-”
“I’m fine,” I reply as casually as possible, but my words come out almost a bit harsh. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m here because I want this,” I say with more conviction. “It’s just…” I hesitate, thinking about how to explain the truth without revealing too much of myself. “It’s been a while for me.”
“How long?”
“I-I don’t know,” I respond with a shrug. “I stopped counting. At least a year.”
“No pressure then, right?” he jokes, his eyebrows raised and cheeks puffed out in a boyish smile. He reaches for my hand, his fingers warm on mine as he grips them. “I really want this. I want you.” He smiles shyly. “I, uh…” His throat bobs and his cheeks flush. “I think I’m falling for you.”
Smiling softly, I reply, “I think I’m falling for you too.”
Frankie’s lips boldly meet mine as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close. His tongue slips into my mouth and swirls around mine. I can feel the heat radiating from his body as it crowds mine, both arousing and protecting me at once, making me feel like nothing else in the world matters. The smell of him invades my senses, a mix of musk and sandalwood that makes my knees weak. I’m too lost in temptation to think straight at the moment and waste no time in removing my clothes, Frankie following my lead. I barely get a moment to get a good look at him before his lips are back on mine.
The air around us crackles with an electric intensity as our naked bodies come together for the first time, my breasts brushing against his chest. His hands roam over me with fervor, memorizing every curve of my body as we move together. The feeling of his bare skin against mine raises goosebumps all over my flesh. And for one shining moment, nothing else exists but the two of us, lost in each other's embrace.
Frankie runs his fingertips across my sides, tickling me slightly before moving down to my waist. The sensation shoots sparks of pleasure throughout my body. He lets out a low growl in the back of his throat, tangling his fingers in my hair as he kisses me. I moan into his mouth, my body aching for more.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you. I bet you taste so fucking good.”
His words only make me want him more. I can feel myself dripping as his hands caress my body. His lips meet my neck, and I can feel his hot breath against the skin of my throat. He gently scrapes his teeth against the tender flesh, and I can feel it throbbing beneath his touch. I could come just from his kisses and soft touches. Moaning, kissing, I rub my slick pussy up and down his leg, my clit practically ready to burst.
A high-pitched whine fills the air, and it’s an embarrassingly long minute before I realize I made that sound. I haven’t felt this turned on in – well, fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on. As the thought hits me, I lose the feeling, lose the edge I’m riding.
The man I was with prior never made me feel special, never made me feel beautiful. He never pulled out the stops to make me feel appreciated—instead, he treated me as an object of his physical desires. Tears start to well up in my eyes, but I try to hold them back.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby,” Frankie says suddenly, and I realize he’s stopped kissing me.
“It’s nothing,” I reply, an obvious lie.
“Bebita, please,” Frankie begs. “Tell me. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
I snort at his statement. My cheeks burn with fury and humiliation. I feel tears pressing against the backs of my eyes, wanting to break out. Every time I take a breath, it hurts, like I’ve torn something inside me that shouldn’t have been torn. It hadn’t been just one man who had reduced me to this; the last was just the worst. I’m angry at myself for not loving my body the way I should, but mostly, I’m angry that I ever let anyone tear me down the way they did, to reduce me to a shell of who I was or could be.
Putting both of his hands on my face, Frankie forces me to look at him. My vision is blurred from the tears I won’t allow to fall, but I can see the worry in his eyes.
“What do you see in me, Frankie?” I question, my voice a whisper. “I’m not in shape…I’m not pretty…I-”
His lips seal themselves around mine before I can say anything more, causing me to gasp in surprise. His tongue slips into my mouth, tenderly. I relax into the kiss, and after a moment, he pulls away.  
“Are you crazy?” Frankie questions. “Each and every single thing about your body is beautiful.” His hands fall to the slope of my waist. “You are so fucking gorgeous that it hurts how gorgeous you are.”
I let out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a sob. “That’s cheesy.”
“Yeah, I know,” Frankie chuckles. “But it’s true. My dick is so hard it feels like it could burst. That’s what you do to me.”
I smile.
“Do you believe me?”
“I want to.” I mean.
Frankie holds my face once more, his eyes staring at me softly. “You. Are. Beautiful.”
Who is this man? I wonder as I stare at him, pleasure blurring the edges of my vision. He wants me. He desires me. It’s clear in his face, in his eyes as they smolder with desire. His full lips are parted as he breathes more heavily, his broad chest rising and falling as he devours the sight of me standing before him. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks now but it feels like this is where I have always belonged, like this is what I am supposed to be doing. Is this real? Am I dreaming? Is this only going to lead to more hurt?
I don’t know…but a part of me wants to find out.
He pulls me in for a kiss, his lips soft and gentle against my mouth. Our teeth click together as he kisses me more fully, sweeping his tongue into my mouth to taste me again and again. His warm scent fills my head as our tongues find each other. When I break away, trying to catch my breath, his mouth immediately moves to my throat, kissing a hot trail to the spot behind my ear, where my pulse leaps madly.
“You deserve to be adored and worshiped,” he murmurs into my ear. “I look at you and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found you.” He nibbles on my lobe before growling. “Can you feel how much I want you? Can you feel what you’re doing to me right now?”
“Yes,” I breath.
“I want you so fucking bad.” His teeth grab onto my lower lip and tug, making me moan again. Then he spends some time kissing along the line of my jaw before returning to ravage my mouth with his tongue. “Do you know the things I want to do with you? Do to you?”
“Tell me.”
“I want to lay you on the bed, spread your legs, bury my face in your pussy, and eat you out until you can’t remember you name. I want to make you come on my mouth, around my cock…”
My eyes go wide and I feel my cheeks flush with color. He isn’t even touching me and I’m so turned on I can feel my body clenching, wetness pooling between my legs. He makes me want him so much I think I can explode from the intensity of it. I’m shaking now, trembling with need and anticipation, and a little fear.
Frankie moves down to my neck, his lips and teeth working against my skin. His fingertips gently cup my breasts, pulling at my nipples. “I want you to scream my name.”
“Fuck,” I whimper, my hands clutching his back. “Touch me.”
“Greedy girl,” Frankie teases, grinning. He presses warm kisses against my throat and chest, moving slowly down my body.
“Please,” I whimper, taking his hand and gently guiding it down my body. “I want you to make me feel good. Please.” His fingers slip between my lips
Frankie groans as his fingers sink into my wetness, teasing my clit lightly before he gently makes contact with it. I shudder as my legs move apart, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, my pussy practically screaming with pleasure. It’s so intense I can’t even think straight.
He slips a finger inside of me and I let out a gasp, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through my body. Frankie’s lips trail up my neck, pressing against my ear, and his voice is harsh, but gentle. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”
Shivers run down my spine. I sink against him, capturing my lower lip between my teeth.
I whine when he removes his fingers from me, his hands returning to my face, lips crashing to mine. He backs me up until the back of my legs hit the bed and I fall onto the soft mattress. He climbs on top of me, his body weight pressing me down, a delicious feeling of submission washing over me.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes. Always.”
“Close your eyes.”
My eyes search his, a soft smile forming on my lips before doing as he commands.
“I need you to relax. To just feel. Can you do that for me?”
“Mhm.” I’m nervous, but I do as he says, my body sinking into the mattress as I try to relax. I sense him drop to his knees at the foot of the bed. He plants a kiss on my thigh, and I shudder beneath the feel of his warm, soft lips on my skin. I breath in deeply, the shakiness apparent.  
“You are breathtaking,” Frankie praises between kisses. His hands grab either side of my hips, pulling me towards his face. He gently nuzzles my mound, inhales my scent. “And you smell like heaven. I can only imagine what you taste like. Fuck, I need to taste you.”
Need. Not want, but need. Fuck, yes.
“Taste me, Frankie. Please.”
My breath hitches when he licks his tongue against my clit. My hand fists the sheets, my thighs already shaking from the rush of sensation pouring through them.
“Oh, God!”
“You taste so good,” Frankie rasps. His deep voice sends a shiver over my skin. “I could eat you for breakfast, lunch, dinner and still not have enough of you.”
As I writhe, he slides a finger inside me, then a second, reaching the spot that helps lead me to detonation. My stomach clenches, the muscles in my legs tight.
“Frankie, yes! I’m…I…”
With all sense of rhyme and reason lost, I begin to shudder. He presses his fingers deep inside me, thrusting them slowly in and out. His tongue laps against me relentlessly, taking everything I have to give him. The cry of pressurized release that escapes my mouth is startling and loud.
“There it is,” I vaguely hear Frankie praise. “Good girl.”
He crawls on top of me, wiping the wetness from his facial hair with one hand as he hovers above me. God, I love the way his skin feels pressed against mine. “You did beautifully.”
“F-fuck. Fuck me,” I plead between pants.
“No,” Frankie states, planting a gentle kiss on my collarbone. “I don’t want to fuck you, baby. I want to make love to you. Please.” He is sincere. Desire burns in his eyes, free of the disgust of my last partner. “Please, let me have you.”
I nod, unable to speak. He kisses me, and I allow his tongue to seek mine, but he’s soon gone.
Frankie leans toward the nightstand and opens a drawer, pulling out a condom. Quivering in the dim light, I watch him tear the wrapper with his teeth and then roll the condom over his cock. It’s the first time I get a good look at it. Long, thick, and smooth – just like I’d pictured him.
He lines himself up at my entrance, looking me deep in the eyes as he pushes inside. It’s been so long since I’ve had a man inside me that I’m not sure I can take him all the way in, but he pushes in slow, giving me time to adjust.
“Frankie,” I gasp in surprise.
He groans, face nuzzled into my neck. “You feel incredible. So warm and tight.”
“Please, stop torturing me and move,” I beg, loving the feel of him stretching me but needing more. “Move!”
He grins and pulls out slowly, teasing me with just the tip before plunging back in. My back arches off the bed as I moan in pleasure. He kisses me, swallowing my moan as he pulls out once more then thrusts harder into me. Each thrust he makes shoots waves of pleasure through my body. I can feel the buildup of pleasure again, like it’s a ticking time bomb about to go off. He sets a steady rhythm. My nails dig into his back, urging him on.
“Fuck,” he moans. “I love your pussy. I love the way you feel. I love…I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I manage to utter before his lips crash against mine.
As he picks up the pace, I feel my body begin to tighten. I’m almost there, but I want him to come with me. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He groans and pumps into me faster, his breathing ragged.
“Come for me,” he breathes. “I’m close, but I need you there first.”
With one hand, I reach down and circle my clit. He kisses my neck, opening his mouth and swirling his tongue on the skin. I come so hard, screaming and going boneless. He slams into me one last time, burying his face into my neck, groaning long and low before collapsing beside me on the bed.
Once his breathing slows, he moves from the bed, leaving me with insecurities. Did I do something wrong? Did he not enjoy himself?
“I’ll be right back,” he utters then stumbles off to what I assume is the bathroom.
My heart races in my chest as my thoughts turn to everything we just did. I’ve never felt so adored, so appreciated, so loved. No one has ever made love to me like he did or talked to me the way he did. My ex-boyfriend hated how I looked and would insist that I cover up because of his discomfort with my body. I remember one night vividly – the night that absolutely broke me. I put on a sexy lingerie set hoping it would help make me feel beautiful. The moment he saw me, his face twisted in disgust.
“Can you put on a shirt or something?”
I try to shake the memory from my head, not wanting to taint the moment I just shared with Frankie. But it’s too late. The tears are already falling from my eyes. I turn onto my side, pulling a blanket over my body as I do. Then I cover my face with my hands, trying to will them away before Frankie returns.
Moments later, I feel the bed shift as Frankie climbs back in behind me, beneath the blanket. The warmth of him presses up behind me, holding me tight against him, his hands warm yet damp. It didn’t cross my mind until then that maybe he was going to get a wet towel to clean up – after-care another thing I’ve never experienced – but he no longer seems concerned about cleaning up.
“Hey. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m fine.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I just…I thought…” I close my eyes tight, wishing I could will the tears away. As much as it hurts, I want to be completely honest with him. “I’ve never been comfortable in my skin, Frankie. I mean, cellulite? I’m gross. Stretch marks? I’m not beautiful. Thigh gap? What the hell’s that?” I huff, a tear rolling down my cheek. “Loving myself has always been hard. Nobody has ever tried to make me feel good. Then, the last time I tried a relationship with a guy… He never wanted to have sex with me with the lights on. He made me wear a shirt so he wouldn’t have to see me. He made me feel disgusting.”
I turn onto my back, allowing myself to look at him. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I can’t help it.”
Rage flashes in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, but it disappears as quickly as it came. “He wasn’t the first, Francisco, and I don’t know that he’ll be the last.”
“He’ll be the last,” Frankie promises. His lips press against mine, his grip on my waist like a brand. I know he means it. He won't treat me that way because he’s nothing like the men I've dated in the past. Frankie will protect me from them.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice choked with emotion as I reach up to wipe away the trail of fallen tears on my face. “I know you didn’t sign up for all this baggage. I know I need some serious therapy. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be comfortable enough to have sex with the lights on. And it's not you that makes me feel this way - it's all me. Knowing my body is on full display… I just can’t focus, be present in the moment.”
I sigh, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I speak the truth. The darkness of a room is comforting, a soothing balm against the anxieties that plague me. My skin prickles at the thought of being seen under harsh lights, every imperfection laid bare for scrutiny.
Silence stretches between us before he speaks again, his voice gentle but firm.
“You’re right. I didn’t sign up for baggage. I signed up for you, and if that means helping you sort through your shit, then so be it. We’ll work through it together.”
“And if I can’t work past it?”
Frankie slides his hand up and cups the side of my face. “I don’t care about the lights. If I have to move into a cave just to be able to fuck you whenever I want, I’ll do it. I’ll install dimmer switches in every damn room of the apartment so you can find the level of light you feel comfortable with. And, if you didn’t already know, I really fucking love lingerie.”
“Yeah?” I question, raising an eyebrow while I roll onto my side and lay on an elbow.
“Yes. Fuck, yes. Just thinking about you in some little lace number is making me hard again.” He throws back his head and groans. “God, I’d come on sight.”
I giggle. I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t give me a little confidence boost.
“My point being…,” Frankie continues, looking at me again. “We can work together to find ways to make you comfortable.”
I melt at the thought that he’s already thinking about ways we can make this work, that he’s not pressuring me to do something that would make me uncomfortable for his pleasure. “Thank you for understanding, Frankie.”
He pulls me to him, and I rest my head between his collar and his jaw, my hand splaying out on his naked chest.
“I love you,” Frankie says, echoing the words he spoke early.
“I love you too.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve got a lot of insecurities, too, you know.” His voice is quiet.
“Hm?” I question, rubbing my hand along his chest. “Like what?”
“Like the fact I can’t grow a facial hair for shit,” Frankie responds, sounding a bit grouchy about it. “It’s all patchy - like I’m a dog with mange or something.”
I can’t help the laughter that escapes my mouth, knowing he looks absolutely nothing like a mangey animal. I look up at him and cup his cheek, feeling his stubble prick my fingertips. “Are you serious? I think your patches are adorable. One of my favorite things about you.” I kiss the bare spot on the cheek closest to me.
He smiles. “And in case you didn’t notice, I have worse scars than a few stretch marks.”  
“I have more than a few,” I point out. “Also, your scars are sexy. They’re proof of your bravery, your sacrifice, your honor. You should be proud of them.”
Frankie’s chest heaves as he scoffs. “Not all of them.” He falls silent for a moment, his gaze drifting away as if contemplating whether he should say more. And then, as if making up his mind, he gently takes my hand and guides my fingers to his left cheek. Beneath my fingertips, I can feel the roughness of scar tissue along his cheekbone, harder than the smooth skin that surrounds it. The warm touch of his skin sends shivers down my spine and I realize that I have noticed the scar there before but never questioned its appearance. It’s like an old friend who is always there but never talked about.
“I got this in a helicopter crash a few years ago – in Colombia.”
I can tell by the way he says the words, by the look on his face as he says them, that he hates remembering that time in his life.
“What happened?” I question, gently encouraging him to continue. To my surprise, he does, and it was unlike anything I’d ever expected.
Frankie tells me the whole story – how Santiago talked him and the others into conducting a reconnaissance of a Colombia drug kingpin’s compound on the pretext that they were aiding the government, then how they ended up deciding to raid the compound themselves, killing the narcos and leaving with the hundreds of millions of dollars hidden there. How Tom, who I've heard mention of before, became greedy and forced Frankie to take more money than their escape helicopter could carry, resulting in the crash. But he doesn’t end there. He tells me about the hostile cocaine farmers, about Tom’s death, the car chases and gunfights they endured transporting their friend’s body and whatever was left of the money back to his family.
A job that spiraled out of control into a mission from hell that cost lives.
“Jesus, Frankie…,” I utter when he finishes, shocked that he has been carrying the weight of that secret, but even more surprised that he felt comfortable enough to share that with me. “That… That’s a lot. Thank you for sharing that with me.”
Frankie’s eyes are focused on the ceiling. He closes them, inhales deeply. “I’ll understand if you want to walk out the door and never come back. I won’t blame you.”
I lay my hand back on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks at me, resting a large hand on top of mine. “Neither am I.”  
I offer him a smile. “What happened in Colombia…it wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to do to survive. I hope you know that.”
Frankie nods, like he wants to believe me. “Anything bad that anyone has ever said about you or your body – it’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. And I don’t care how long it takes; I’ll spend every waking moment trying to make you believe that I need and love every inch of your body.”
My heart swells in my chest as he leans in and seals his promise with a kiss.
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Frankie’s head turns, as if he can sense me watching him from across the room. The moment our eyes meet, his lips curl up in a mischievous grin. I smile back at him, unable to wrap my head around the fact that he has been mine for just over a year. A year filled with hurt and pain as we’ve dealt with our demons, far outweighed by all the laughter and love. A year where I finally understand what it means to be in a healthy relationship. A year where I’m finally starting to learn how to love myself – all thanks to the wonderful, patient, handsome man across the room.
I watch as he exchanges a few words with Benny before making his way toward me, patting his good friend on the shoulder with his beer-free hand as he passes him.
“You can’t just eye fuck me from across the room,” Frankie teases when he reaches me. “It’s Christmas, and there are children present.”
“Technically, it’s not Christmas,” you point out, the Miller brothers having gathered all their friends and family for a party the weekend before the holiday. “And unborn children don’t count,” I add, gesturing to Will’s girlfriend. “Which means I can eye fuck you all I want.” I gently jam a finger into his chest. “And don’t you dare act like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes all damn night.”
“Well, it isn’t a surprise that I want to unwrap you when you look like the most tempting damn gift under the tree.”
I giggle to myself then take a sip of wine. If he only knew that I'm internally begging him to remove my clothing when we get back home. He has no idea about what I have underneath my dress or the things I have in store for him – it’s been a year in the making.
“I didn’t know you have a fetish for nicely wrapped presents. Probably something you should explore in therapy,” I tease.
It’s no secret that we both have entered therapy in the last year, Frankie for his PTSD and me for my body image issues. It was time. Frankie has been nothing but patient and understanding of my insecurities—and our sex life certainly isn’t lacking thanks to creative positions, blindfolds, and Frankie’s obsession with lingerie—but I realized I couldn’t ignore my demons forever. There is more to life than worrying about my appearance. I’m ready to experience it…tonight. I feel just bold and confident to finally give all of myself to him.
He just doesn’t know it.
“I only have a fetish for you,” Frankie playfully replies.
“Ugh! So cheesy!” I groan, playfully rolling my eyes. “You really think you’re going to get me in bed tonight with a line like that?"
Frankie chuckles, but takes it as a challenge. “You know, I told Santa not to even bother with Christmas gifts this year – because you look better than any present I could ever hope to open.”
I laugh. “Cheesier. Want to go for three?”
“Alright.” Frankie takes a step closer to me, bending close to my ear so only I can hear. “I hope you’re ready for a not-so-silent night”-I bite down on my lip, hiding my smile, anticipating whatever ridiculous thing is about to come out of his mouth-“because when we get home, I’m going to fuck you so long and so hard that you’ll be hoarse from screaming my name.”
I gasp, my eyes going wide, wearing a combination of surprise and excitement on my face. My heartbeat is erratic.
Frankie smirks, knowing exactly what his words are doing to me.    
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m not going to let you get away with saying something like that in public.”
I feel the tip of his nose graze me, his lips moving closer to my ear.
“I’m counting on it,” he whispers, his words sending a shiver down my spine.
I turn my head to face him, and our eyes lock. I see the mischief and desire in his gaze, and I can't help but feel drawn to him.
“Think anyone will notice if we get out of here?” I question.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me out of the crowded house and onto the quiet street, leaving our drinks behind. The cool air hits us as we step outside, the night sky sparkling with stars above us. We walk in silence, the tension between us growing with each passing moment. Finally, he stops and pulls me close, his arms wrapping around my waist. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and I know I won't be able to resist him for much longer.
He leans in and kisses me, his lips soft and gentle at first, then growing more urgent and demanding. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and the passion between us ignites.
We stumble back against his truck, our bodies pressed tightly together. Frankie’s hands roam over my body, teasing and tantalizing me, and I can’t help but moan in pleasure, my skin tingling from his touch. The stubble along his jaw rubs my chin raw, but I hardly notice – I’m addicted to kissing him, and I want nothing more than to kiss and kiss and kiss for the rest of our lives. He tastes so good, and just the touch of his tongue against mine is enough to make my entire body tingle with lust. His erection presses into me, hot and throbbing even through the rough denim of his jeans, and I grind against him.
“Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”
I dip my head back and moan, thinking how hot it would be if he came in his jeans right here, right now.
“Don’t tempt me,” I say as I grab his shirt and pull him in for another kiss, making sure I brush against his cock one last time before we break apart. “Alright. Fine. Let’s go.”
Frankie groans, then opens up the door of his truck and helps me inside. I scoot across the bench seat, wanting to be as close to him as possible. The entire drive home, our bodies are pressed up against each other, his hand on my thigh, rubbing my skin. I want him so bad, and it’s all I can do to not rip his fucking clothes off and fuck him right here in the truck.
Frankie pulls into the driveway of our home, one I moved into just weeks after he bought this past summer, then cuts the ignition and switches off the headlights. He hops out then grabs my hand, leading me into the house, straight to the bedroom. As soon as we reach the room, he kisses me like he needs me more than air. I could spend eternity kissing this man, and it would never be enough. But I want to feel him, his skin on mine, his lips on my body. I break the kiss, breathing hard, my lips tingling.
Frankie watches me, his eyes fixed on my every movement. He swallows, his throat moving with the action. I kiss his stubbled cheek and move to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. I push his shirt off, then help him remove the t-shirt beneath it, staring at his muscular arms and bronze skin. I trail my fingers down his stomach, following the trail of hair that disappears beneath his jeans, helping him unbuckle his belt and push his pants down.
“Your turn,” he says.
Smirking, I turn my back to him. “Turn on the lights, then help me with my dress.” I brush my hair to the side, allowing him easier access to my zipper, then look over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. He stands there for a moment, as if trying to process what I just said.
I nod, letting him know it’s okay. “I trust you.”
My words force him to spring into action, flipping on the light and dimming it just enough to not be too bright and overstimulating. Then he steps behind me. His warm breath caresses my skin, his fingers nimbly lowering the zipper of my dress painfully slowly. He skims his fingers down my spine, making me come alive with sensation. My eyes flutter shut as he presses of series of tender kisses to my exposed skin.
Finally, my dress slides off me, leaving me in the satin and lace bustier set I had purchased especially for tonight, complete with garters holding up my stockings. I knew this set would drive him wild.
“Let me look at you,” Frankie says, helping me step out of the fabric pooled at my feet, then turning me towards him. He steps back, and I am suddenly feeling self-conscious as he devours me with his eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” he utters. He grips my hips, bringing me close to him, then falls to his knees. “Fuck, baby. Do you know what you do to me?” He plants a kiss to my covered stomach.
I smirk, reaching down to tip his chin up toward me. “How bad do you want me?”
He looks up at me, desire and need in his luminous eyes. “Bad. So fucking bad. I need you.”
I bite my lip, not quite ready to give myself to him yet. “You know, you never told me what you want for Christmas.”
“You,” he growls, planting a kiss on my thigh. “I only want you.”
“You can’t unwrap me,” I point out.
“I could. Will you let me?”
“It’s not Christmas,” I remind him, trying my best to sound stern.
“Baby, please, let me unwrap you.” He breathes heavily against my thigh while planting wet kisses, his hands gripping my hips. It’s clear he wants me desperately. How can I say no?
“Merry Christmas, Frankie,” I say, giving him all the permission he needs.
“Fuck yes.” He slowly runs his hands up my thighs, causing me to sway. Unhooking one of my stockings, he slides it down and kisses my thigh inch by inch, lifting my foot to slide my stiletto then stocking. He continues with the same action on the other leg, then places his hands on my hips. His fingers hook around the elastic of my panties and pulls them down, his eyes locked on mine as he does so.
When my panties join the floor, he is back at my center, his breath hot on my skin. I don’t dare move. Don’t dare say a word. I simply wait for his next move while reminding myself how to breath.
“So beautiful,” he mumbles.
“Wait. One more thing,” I manage to say, reaching back to unclasp my bra. I allow the final piece of my undergarments to fall to the floor, and, for the first time, I am completely on display for him to see.
Frankie looks up at me, his eyes dark. He is trembling with desire. “You’re perfect…but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
I blush, feeling self-conscious, but I’m not going to let my thoughts consume me. My body is worthy of love and respect as it is. Frankie is right: I am perfect.
“I want to. Now, fuck me with your mouth, Francisco.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My muddled brain screams as he gently runs the tip of his nose up my center. His grip strengthens on my hips, kneading my flesh beneath his fingers. Then his mouth meets my lower lips. A gentle, wet kiss. Then another and another. His tongue darts out and flatters against my seam as he slowly licks up my center. He hands cup my ass and tug me closer, bringing me to the center of his mouth, his tongue licking up my lips again, tasting me with unmatched hunger, flicking at the small bundle of nerves.
My breath escapes in small gasps. I can no longer think. My brain has shut down, only allowing me to feel, and he feels incredible.
“You taste so fucking good,” Frankie groans.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp out, gripping his head with both hands and rocking my hips toward his face. “It feels too fucking good.”
I buck against him, pushing his face harder and harder against me. His breath is hot as he moans into me, sending vibrations through my sensitive flesh. His stubble scrapes against my skin as he presses harder and harder into me. The tip of his nose nudges me, just beyond the hooded flesh. It’s too much and not enough. My orgasm refuses to crest over the edge, an elusive peak that lies just before I can feel happiness wash over me in a torrential wave of pleasure.
“Frankie,” I pant. “I need your cock.”
“No,” he growls, his eyes intense when he gazes up at me. He slips a finger inside me and watches as it slides in and out of me, thrusting through the hot wetness with practiced ease until I’m soaking wet with need for him.
“Please,” I beg, my frustration growing as the tension builds inside me, refusing to snap.
“I want you to come,” Frankie says, looking up at me. “You deserve it.”
“I-I can’t,” I admit, ready to throw in the white flag. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” he assures me. “You’re doing so well. You’re so close, but you’re holding back. I know this is scary for you, but you can do it. Just focus on what you feel. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Let go, baby, and I promise I’ll give you what you want.”
I nod, and Frankie dives back in, assaulting my clit while fucking me with his fingers. He swirls his tongue around my clit before sucking it into his mouth and lightly biting down on the tiny nub. I cry out as waves of pleasure start to sweep over me. The heat between my legs is spreading, pooling outward until there's a tingling in my chest that makes me huff for breath before I moan.
“Frankie… I’m gonna… I…”
“Come on, baby… There it is…”
“Yes!”
My entire body tightens, stills, melts all at once. My fingers dig into his shoulder blades, scrabbling for purchase in case I fall over with the pleasure of it all.
I am completely unaware of my surroundings until I feel my back hit the bed, Frankie crawling up my body and spreading my legs with his knees. He kisses up my throat, stopping at my chin.
“How do you want it?”
“Ride you,” I breath. “I want to ride you.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Frankie, please. Let me ride your cock.”
He nips my chin one last time. “You’re so pretty when you beg.”
Frankie rolls off me then pulls himself up the bed to rest his back against the headboard. He holds out his hand and I take it, helping me climb on top of him so that I'm straddling his thighs. I push up on my knees and grip his cock, positioning it near my opening.
“Look down while you take it,” Frankie commands. “Watch as your beautiful pussy swallows my cock.”
I rest my hands on his shoulders for balance, then look down, my eyes locked on where our bodies join while slowly sinking down. Our skin is wet with sweat, and I can smell the sweet scene of my pussy and a hint of Frankie mixed in with the salt and musk. He fills me like our bodies are meant for one another. For a moment, I imagine that this is all either one of us will ever need; there is no doubt that we were made for each other, and we have more love for each other than most couples ever know.
Frankie’s groan echoes off the walls. “Fuck…” His head falls back against the headboard. He rests his hands on my hips and holds me there. “You’re killing me. You feel so good.”
“You sure you can handle me, Frankie?” I ask with a smirk, running a hand over his chest.
“Your pussy is like fucking magic.” He squeezes my hip with one hand then cups my breast with the other, like he wants to touch me everywhere all at once. “Let me see you ride me, baby. I want to watch you ride my cock.”
I stop torturing us both and work my hips in slow circles, adjusting to the feel and fullness of him. I look into his heavily lidded eyes, watching as he winces in ecstasy with every slow and sensual roll of my hips. He keeps his gaze on my face, never moving his attention as I ride his cock.
My gaze drops, landing on my body as it ripples and jiggles with the movement of my hips. The pleasure rises within me, but I am embarrassed at the sight of my own flesh moving to that rhythm. God, is this how he sees me? I want to hide. Would it be ridiculous to reach for the sheets and cover myself?
“Eyes on me, bebita.”
Immediately, my eyes meet his. His gaze burns into me as if nothing else matters, and I don't care about anything except him and how much he loves me, how good he makes me feel.
“You ride my cock so well and look amazing doing it. Think you can come on my cock?”
Heat pools inside me. I move faster, shamelessly grinding myself against him.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Take what you need from me.”
My nails score his skin as I ride him fast, like we’re in a race to the finish line. Breath rasping, teeth clenched, a wild determination fuels my movements.
“Take it, baby,” Frankie encourages, giving me all the power, making this all about my pleasure, my enjoyment. “Use me to get where you need to go.”
He presses a palm flat against my lower stomach. The extra pressure sends a sharp ribbon of euphoria spiraling through me. My movements grow erratic, and I babble absolute nonsense. All the tension inside me explodes, rippling and spreading to every nerve ending.
“Yes, baby. That’s my girl.” He drives himself up into me, brutal thrusts that draw out my own pleasure. He curses and thrusts again, once, twice, then his body stills. He groans, releasing inside me.
Frankie brushes my hair back, pulls my head to his, and captures my lips with his as my jumbled brain regains consciousness. After having his fill, he releases my lips and smiles at me.
“Hi.”
I return his smile. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
I nod, my smile widening. “Yeah. I-I did it.”
“You did it,” he echoes. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I move off him and lay beside him, tucked safely in his arms, not knowing what to say next. He pulls a sheet on top of us and we lay in silence for some time, enjoying the feel of the gentle rhythm of his breathing.
“I love you,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
“I love you too.”
I nestle in closer to him, loving the way his voice rumbles though his chest to mine when we’re this close.
“What are you thinking?” I question, sensing that his mind is running a million miles a minute.
“About how I wasn’t lying when I said I only want you for Christmas. Nothing you can buy me will be better than the last year with you, and I want more. So much more.”
I hum, completely blissed out. “Me too.”
“Marry me then.”
I laugh, then move my head to look up at him. “I swear to God, Francisco, if this is another Christmas pun-”
“It’s not.” His face reflects his seriousness. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
I push myself up in bed, my mind reeling, wondering if I came so hard that I passed out and I’m dreaming.
“I was going to wait until Christmas morning,” he continues. “Had this whole thing planned out. But I can’t wait anymore.”
My mouth falls open, and I try to wrap my head around his words. “You’re serious?”
“I’m serious.” Frankie reaches out, laying a hand on top of mine. “If I could have picked the woman I wanted to spend my life with, I never would have been able dream up you. You’re kind, beautiful, gorgeous, funny, you have a heart of gold, and most importantly, you love me for who I am despite my imperfections.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, seeming to watch the flickering emotions that must be passing across my face.
Emotion tears through his throat, causing his voice to become husky. “I love you, and I want to spend every second of the rest of my life reminding you just how beautiful and amazing you are. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night – always. Will you marry me?”
Tears course down my face as I shift to my knees and throw my arms around his neck. My lips meet his, giving him his answer. I’m insecure and hesitant about a lot of things in life, but there is not a single doubt in my mind about this.
I pull back, my hands cupping his neck. “Is this real? Like, really real?”
A small laugh escapes his lips before nodding. “It’s real. I have a ring. It’s hidden in the branches of the tree in the living room.”
My heart pounds with happiness. “I don’t need the ring. I only need you.”
A chuckle rumbles through him, and he kisses me with a greedy kind of joy that makes my toes curl. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes."
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sleepiexx · 23 days
Text
Friday Nights
Valeria Garza x fem!reader
Note: It’s been a while lol, writing has been such a chore lately it’s my passion so I refuse to give up on it. I’m working on a part two to Everything is Falling Apart, but I know it’s going to take a while so here’s this short little piece to tide y’all over until I do get around to finishing, editing, and posting it
Summary: You meet an alluring woman at the club you frequent.
Warnings: alcohol, clubbing, nothing angsty tho
Word count: 1033
The music is loud, the room is bathed in a mix of colorful light and shadows from bodies tightly packed together. A buzz resounds, chatter, laughter, fun. Yeah, this is your scene alright.
You could dance the night away with your friends, and from the moment you put on the outfit which flattered all of your best features, you knew that that was exactly what you intended to do. The smell of sweat and perfume was one you knew well, and as your brow glistened you felt right at home.
The compact feeling of the dance floor could make someone feel claustrophobic, like they were being suffocated by the touching of dozens of bodies against one another. To you, the feeling was a comfort, a grounding touch that was promised at the end of every week no matter how rough. It was a feeling you could only pull yourself away from for one reason.
The effect of the shots you took hours ago began to fade and you couldn’t have that, your night is hardly over. This is what lures you away. You alert one of your friends that you are headed to the bar before slipping your way through the crowd. The bartender knows you well, you frequent and she works Friday nights so she sees you often, often enough to know that you want a little something that’s fruity but strong. She switches it up every time, just like you like. Some part of you used to have a crush on her, but you aren’t naive and you know how to spot a straight woman. A shame, really, you never find anyone cute to go home with at this place.
Maybe your confidence is intimidating, maybe your outfits are too bold, or maybe, just maybe, you have a hard time getting asked out because you spend too much time dancing to talk and you’re always, always with your girls, never alone. Save for the frequent trips you make to the bar for another round.
The bartender places your drink in front of you, and you reach into your purse in search of your wallet. Not one to keep an ongoing tab, you usually opt to pay for each drink individually, that way you don’t go too crazy on the spending. It seems this time you don’t have to worry about that, though, because a hand is placed on your shoulder, stopping you, as a smooth voice says “this one’s on me.”
You see the woman hand the bartender her card and you turn to her, having to hold yourself back from audibly gasping. She’s gorgeous, strong cheekbones and long lashes, framed by dark shoulder length hair. Not to mention her impeccable style, she wears loose black slacks and combat boots, but the main feature that has caught your attention is her shirt. A dark red satin button up, the sleeves rolled up and the buttons so generously undone, giving you a view that you struggle not to stare at. The red looks good against her warm skin tone and you can’t tell which you’d rather touch, the silky shirt, or her smooth skin.
You realize you’ve been staring entirely too long, scolding yourself for half a second before smiling and thanking the woman for the drink.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” you say, desperate to keep the conversation going. You finally have an opportunity to flirt with a stunning woman and by god are you going to take it.
She smiles at you, eyes smug, you can tell she knows she has you hooked and a part of you really likes that idea. “I could say the same.”
You furrow your brows, trying to think if you have ever seen her before. You draw a blank, “I’m here almost every Friday.”
She hums, “I’m here Wednesdays, guess I’ll have to change up my schedule. You come here alone or?”
“With friends,” you point to your girls, “nothing takes the edge off the week quite like dancing the second the weekend starts. What’s got you coming on Wednesdays? Unconventional work schedule?”
She laughs, eyes half lidded, “something like that.”
You bat your lashes at her and she wonders if you know what power you hold with just a blink of your eyes, it prompts her to elaborate
“I own the place,” half of her is just answering your question, the other half is flat out bragging in hopes to impress you.
“Seriously?” The smirk on her face leads you to believe she’s messing with you but she nods. You want to stare slack jawed but you refrain, instead smiling wide and responding, “well then I’d better stay on your good side, it’s a nice establishment you run here.”
“A business is only as nice as the people in it,” her eyes trace your figure from bottom to top, you spot a hungry looking glint, “and, well, if you frequent then I suppose I run the nicest establishment in town.”
The line was cheesy, yet still you find your knees weak along with the feeling of blood rushing to your face.
“You uhm-“ you stumble over your words, hoping to god you don’t sound as anxious and giddy as you feel. Your intense eye contact makes up for it, ensnaring the woman before you, “you like to dance?”
Her smirk grows, shifting into something more like a smile, “I love to, you?”
“Yeah me too.” You cautiously take one of her hands, continuing to hold eye contact as you gently pull her in the direction you’d come from, “I’m y/n, by the way.”
As your feet meet the dance floor, she pulls you close, her hands meeting your hips as they’d been aching to do since she’d seen you standing there at the bar. She can dance well, you can tell before you’ve even started, her stance is impeccable and there’s not a hint of hesitation on her. You know you’ve got a full night ahead of you, and you don’t find yourself complaining, “Valeria.”
You repeat it, tasting her name on your tongue. It sounds good, so very good, “I like it.”
And there it is again, that smirk.
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