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viennakarma · 9 months

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Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

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“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes.

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #formula one #Spotify

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two-white-butterflies · 3 months

Text

★ — loss of my life | charles leclerc

Description: You're the biggest superstar in the world. You break up with your longterm boyfriend. It's lonely at the top.

Pairing: singer!reader/charles leclerc

yourname: the love of my life. ❤️ @charles_leclerc

liked by 2,391,039 others

>comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️

yournameuniverse: ok drop the album its been 3 yrs

BirdsofAFeather: OMG OMG SHE'S A SINGER, HE'S A RACECAR DRIVER IT'S A WATTPAD BOOK.

yourname: short n' sweet is out now 🍭

this feels really surreal, i kind of had to unlearn myself and learn myself again in order to make this album. it's the one i'm most proud of thus far in my life. it's the one i hope you listen to and feel like we were hanging and confiding in each other for an hour. me and the mic were like this the whoole time 🤞🏻 i never thought i would finish it because it was really scary to close the chapter. but i closed it so you can open it! and i hope you do. i hope you love it.

rant over now please stream this shit a lot if you don't mind, it took me years to make lol.

liked by charles_leclerc and 4,698,349 others

>comments

charles_leclerc: ❤️

jaylahespy: crying real tears

ynlnnation: WE'RE LOVING IT

charles_leclerc: Happy 7th! @yourname

liked by 231,382 others

>comments

yourname: Happy 7th lovey! ❤️🥺

charlesuniverse: THE PERFECT COUPLE

(MONACO, 2023)

You felt like Elvis Presley. Singing in sold-out arenas and having millions of fans that would constantly stream your songs. It was exhilarating. It was a different type of high. Being famous was 100x better than narcotics, because it gave you money.

Money that afforded lazy days like this.

Both sides of your pillow remained cold. The air-conditioning was in optimal condition. Charles' warm arms were wrapped around you, caging you in his warm embrace. "What time are we gonna get up?" you asked with a chuckle, seeing that his eyes remained closed.

"Brunch," he mumbled weakly - fighting against the sleepiness. "- now let's please get back to sleep." he pleaded, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist. A small giggle escapes your mouth.

"Okay, Mr. Leclerc."

yourname: liverpool you're the apple of my eye ❤️🥺 thank you for being such a wonderful crowd!!

liked by 2,128,192 others

>comments

YourNameWorld: I LOVE YOU PLEASE NOTICE ME

allatflipflops: LIVERPOOL!

liked by yourname

yournamenation: Y/N L/N sings Miss American Pie.

liked by 128,392 others

prongsmoony: Oh it's confirmed

Headoverheels: She also liked that twitter post that's speculating over their breakup...💀

Y/N L/N and CHARLES LECLERC: ALL WE KNOW ABOUT THE BREAKUP SO FAR. by Poppy Corinthia

When Y/N L/N first began dating Formula One racer Charles Leclerc more than seven years ago, the internet was not shocked. The pair first introduced each other as childhood best-friends, both growing up in Monaco, until L/N's eventual leave to NYC.

A love story like theirs did not stay behind closed doors.

Their relationship was first confirmed by an instagram post made by Y/N L/N (which has since been deleted following her karma album) that is captioned "the love of my life" with a picture of her and Charles Leclerc kissing passionately in Turks and Caicos.

This was followed by back-to-back appearances in the racing paddock, as well as Leclerc's attendance in all of L/N's concerts. July 10, 2024 the streak of attendance has been ruined. Leclerc has also not liked any of L/N's post about her Liverpool concert. Y/N L/N also liked a twitter post speculating their breakup.

But what do you think, reader? Is the IT Couple broken up? or are they simply taking a step back on their public appearances?

>comments

valenciaschitt: Yep I think they're over

HollaParker: I refuse to believe it :(

yourname: Edinburg, you're the one for me! 🥺 thank you for listening to 'loml' for the first time. the song will be released...an hour after this post. loml is really personal to me, but please always choose to be kind and gentle.

liked by 4,213,912 others

>comments

CharlesandY/N: "Please always choose to be kind and gentle" THIS IS DEFINITELY ABOUT CHARLES 😭

charlesuniverse: YOU'RE THE LOSS OF MY LIFE

Y/NUniverse: When I remember that Y/N got the breakup text 30mins before her show in Liverpool...

liked by 182 others

comments have been restricted.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 smau #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #ferrari

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gghostwriter · 2 months

Text

Still Alive for My Lover

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The four times Spencer brushes with death and the fifth time he's reborn to find his way back to you

Warning: angst with happy ending || [Part 2A of Death of a Love Affair; Part 2B is the sad ending]

A/n: I did a poll the other day on if I should post both different part 2s for Death of a Love Affair and posting both won so here is one of the endings--the happy one! I actually scrapped my first happy ending idea for this (I dreamt about this plot just the other night) so like a maniac, I wrote and edited it in one sitting. Also he has been through a lot so I had to choose scenes that I think would affect his psyche. Hope you enjoy!

Part one || Main masterlist || Part 2B

The first time Death came close was during an Anthrax attack

In Spencer’s quest in solving the time sensitive and nation threatening case, he made a series of misjudgments that had led him to being exposed to the chemically engineered Anthrax.

During his months of adjusting back into being single and alone, he poured all that he could to his job. No longer were the cases viewed with a clear objective mind, they all became personal. Case distance from Virginia, where you were, meant nothing. He viewed each killer a threat to your existence. In the most convoluted way, this was him protecting and keeping you safe when he no longer could beside you.

“Hey, Reid.” Garcia softly said.

“Reid, wow, no, uh—no witty Garcia greeting for me?” Spencer joked to try and lighten the mood.

She shakily exhaled her breath. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

“Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?” His voice trailing off at the end.

“Anything.”

“I, uh-I know I can’t call my mom without uh—“ he cleared his throat. “Without alerting everyone at her hospital and I can’t call Y/N since—since it’s protocol and we broke up.”

She paused, nodding her head. “What do you need?”

“I-I need you to record messages for them, in case anything happens to me.”

“Oh, nothing’s going to happen to you,” she tried to be optimistic. “You’re gonna—brilliantly find out who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”

He sighed with a slight smile on his face. “I hope you’re right, but if you’re not, I just—I really want to make sure that they hear my voice.”

“Ok, just give me a second.” The taps from her keyboard echoing in the background.

“Are you ready?” Spencer asked.

“Ready.”

“Hi, Mom. This is Spence. I just, um-I just really want you to know that I love you and—i need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.” His tone fluctuating from holding back tears. “Y/N, I know we broke up months ago but—I need you to know that I love you and that I’m sorry—” A shiver passed through his body, a sign of his fever escalating. “Sorry for pushing you down in my list of priorities—should have done better. I don’t resent you for leaving me and if—if this is my last message, I want you to know you’re one of the last things on my mind, Angel.”

The thought of you finding out through the news that an FBI agent had died or worse, not finding out at all, sent him into a tailspin. You were a worrier and Spencer didn’t want you to question your judgement of breaking it off with him and drown in the not knowing, what ifs of it all. He wondered where you were at that very moment as he crept closer and closer to Death’s door. Were you wallowing still? Maybe out for brunch with your friends or a date—his breathing stuttered at the thought. He tried and failed to imagine you smiling at a faceless man in front of you, preening under your attention. Who wouldn’t? He shook his head as an effect to bring him back to the present.

The pause made Garcia panic. “Reid?”

“I-I gotta go.”

Click.

***

The second time was when Maeve died

Spencer thought he was finally going to get it right with Maeve but it was false hope, his speculation far from the truth because Maeve—his second chance in love was dead, killed right before his very eyes. He loved her, truly did even without knowing what she looked like—not in the encompassing way he loved you, no, but Maeve still carved a space in his heart that was one filled by you. She was comfort and a healing balm for the pain of losing you.

He associated navigating life with you as something like entering a luscious forest. With you leading the way though the beautiful greenery and kind animals—a fairytale kind of love. But when you let go of his hand, the forest turned dark and the animals turned into monsters that haunt his every move. Maeve was a cabin in those woods, lighted and warm with a fireplace—a respite for his lost and terrified being. He knew what was out there but housed in her presence, he felt safe and believed himself ready to defend his newfound solace. He was wrong, the security was temporary. His shelter torn down and taken away, leaving him back out in the woods with no light or guiding star to see him through.

Curling into himself on the floor beside his bed with ‘The Narrative of John Smith’, the copy that Maeve gifted, tucked to his chest, uncaring of the the pathogens that it can carry, a folded piece of paper under the dresser caught his eye. He stretched his hand, feeling the settled dust on its surface scatter, and pulled it into the light. Gingerly, he opened the yellowing sheet and found himself staring at your handwriting—a note that he had never seen before.

He once asked about your penchant for leaving hand written notes for him to find. You shrugged then and nonchalantly called it a treasure hunt for him to partake in. During the times passed, he’d encounter lingering, forgotten notes from you all over his apartment. In his cupboard, pushed in the dark recesses, in his rarely worn patterned coat, and slotted in between the books on his bookshelf. He thought he had found them all but here was one left unread as if it knew when to make its presence known. As if it knew that he needed a sliver of light to guide him home.

Spence,

I’m not sure if we met at the right time, but because we’re both here, let’s do our best and if there does come a time were we must part, know that I love you. I’ll love you enough until we meet again.

His tears broke free from his battered walls and streamed down his face. He loved Maeve. He was thankful for the peace each phone call had given him and although his memory of each talk may fade into the back of his mind, the relief and emotion she had given him will linger in his chest. He slowly got up from his position and approached his beloved shelf. With one last look at his book, he slotted it within the nook and walked away.

His love for Maeve will always be there but he loved you too and he thinks he always will. And when sadness and grief comes to pull him back under in moments of weakness, he unfolds his talisman—the note—kept near his heart as a reminder. A reminder that he has loved, was loved, and is still loved.

***

The third time was when he was shot in the neck

Fading in and out.

In—liquid seeping into his shirt and tie.

You were the only thing he could think of. Not the case, not the team, only you.

Out—sirens blaring in a distant background.

In—Morgan’s voice calling his name.

For the first time in a long time, Spencer was terrified. He was so terrified that death had come to collect his borrowed life without having a chance to right his wrongs. Without any contact and without any way to say how much he has loved you still after all these years and months. He could probably recite how long it had been, if only he wasn’t loopy from the pain.

Out—muffled voices all around him.

In—a gentle sway in the ambulance as it rushed to the hospital.

He wanted to tell you how much he’d learned from recalling all his memories with you. How much you had taught him about love—a teaching he could never find in books. How love was selfless and tenacious—just like when you didn’t give up on him early on—when it needed to be. How love is fueled with respect—like how you respected his choices and demands of his career, and how love—true love, knew when it’s time to go.

Out—streak of bright lights passing him by.

In—professionals dressed in scrubs and white coats touching him.

Your face was the only image settling behind his closed eyelids. He tried to remember the crinkle around your eyes when you smile, the scrunch of your nose when you laugh, or the he arch of your brows when you teased him but all were hazy, as if he was staring into a deep depth of water that rippled nonstop. All he could conjure up was your face with tears sliding down to your chin from the hurt he caused. He was deathly afraid that his last memory of you were in pain.

Out—laying cold on the operating table.

All he could muster to repeat to himself as he faded under local anesthesia was your name. Like it was a mantra, a prayer, and his own personal saving grace.

In—surrounded by beeping noises and fluffed pillows.

Mind still hazy when he came to, he sent a thank you to the stars. Grateful that Death was unsuccessful and to have been given an opportunity to correct his mistakes. Wishing that somehow, somewhere your paths and his would cross again and he could tell the story of all his adventures and yours, and how he has changed, hoping once again to be worthy of you.

***

The final time was during his stint in prison

He’s changed. In the dark forest you’ve left him behind, the once scared and hunted by monsters had become the hunter. The anger and agitation that simmered near the surface of his every waking moment was something he did not know how to accept. He was worried about the new him and how you’d perceive it. There were no signs of who he was before and during you. If he’d cross paths with you on the street, would you recognize him? He hoped so. Would you still accept him? He needed you to.

Along his long route back to you, he grew thorns and horns. He became decorated with wounds and scars. His talisman—your note—had aged, just like him, and had ripped along the folds. His once brilliant mind—now in a haze from trauma, memorized the words. It was your writing that grounded him while he was stuck in the cell of a mad woman’s making. The slants and loops studied and the grooves and indentations caressed with his calloused, bloody hands.

He loved you still, very much so, but with his change, it had also mutated. What once was compared to a fairytale kind of love had now been smudged with darkness and desperation.

He felt lethal in his journey back to your embrace. Gone was the boy who felt remorse in shooting an unsub between the brows and replaced with the man who felt no qualms in killing should safety be threatened. He knew he had to talk to someone about the path his thinking had taken but instead, he entered his home with a single-minded purpose, walking straight to your side of the drawer and clutched another memento that will buoy him through the ravaging waters of emotion—your engagement ring. Looping it through a chain that he now wears on his neck and near his heart, a symbolism of his will to see things through, come hell or high water, he’ll crawl home to you.

***

And his second life started when he left the BAU

Spencer wanted to see you. Once inside the building elevator going down, he fought the urge to dial your number—regardless if it was still even yours. He needed to know. To know if you’ve moved on after all those many years apart or lived just like he did—tried but unsuccessful, always comparing and always coming up short. The eyes not as kind as yours, the smile not as radiant, and the heart not as beautiful. Was it awful of him to wish for the former? Yes, yes it was. He knew you deserved happiness and support after all the times he had let you down, knew you deserved a life after him, knew you deserved a happy ending but here he was, hopelessly wishing that your happy ending was still with him.

He didn’t keep up with your life as much as he wanted to. The wounds of his failure and the battle scars he received along the way were still fresh. He didn’t have the right to know—a self imposed punishment. Although Garcia offered to look into you whenever he would reach rock bottom, and he’s been there a lot, he refused. By returning your ring, the engagement ring hidden underneath his shirt, you’ve taken back his privilege and he respected your decision.

You deserve better than to have him contact you without his life in order. If you’d still have him, you’d get the best of him. And so for the past six months, he focused on himself. He gained his footing in teaching young agents, he worked on his anger and made progress with his therapist, and he got to know who he was again beyond being an FBI agent. And it was as if the stars took notice of the changes and decided to reward him.

It was late into the night when he decided to make a quick grocery trip for some perishables missing in his pantry. This was out of his normal routine and he was forever grateful to the impulsiveness that took over him that night ever since. It was what led him to cross paths with the only person he had once considered home—you.

As he was entering the store, you had come out in all your beauty, struggling with one bag in each hand. Whenever he would recall this story, you’d scoff and tell him that you didn’t feel beautiful then—hair in a sloppy bun, t-shirt all crumpled, and face bare from any makeup. He’d object as no matter what the circumstance, you were always the most beautiful to him.

He cleared his throat then. “Y/N.”

“Spencer,” you breathed out, surprise painting across your face.

“Do you need help with that?” He asked, voice cracking at the end. He thought he outgrew his shyness, time in prison does that for a person, but here you were reverting him back to how he felt when he first met you. “I’d like to walk you back to your car, if that’s alright,” he added on as he was afraid of your refusal. The parking lot was dimly lit and almost deserted. Years of solving cases has made him hyper vigilante and even if he was technically no longer a fed, his experience stayed the same. He still wanted to make sure you were safe, after all the time away.

You hesitated before nodding once in agreement.

He smiled, letting go of his breath he didn’t know he was holding, and reached out to take your grocery purchases. “Let me get these for you, lead the way.”

The silence was uncomfortable. Years of being away from each other has made him a stranger to you and you to him.

You crossed yours arms, a sign of defense, before clearing your throat. “How’s the team?”

He pressed his lips into a straight line, not wanting to spill every little change that has happened while you were gone. “Good, good.”

Silence.

“No case tonight?”

“Uh—I only consult now,” he explained. “I went into teaching.”

Your arms dropped, a sign of openness, and you peered at him. “That’s—different. I mean, are you happy about that?”

He laughed and almost felt like preening at the care that you still had for him. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a normal schedule for once.”

“Somehow normal and you being mixed together doesn’t compute in my head,” you teased, swinging your hands in a clear sign of nervousness. He felt good—glad that he still could read your tics. How the slight downturn of your eyebrow meant you’d table the information to ruminate on it later. How the little bounce on your walk, that wasn’t there earlier, meant you were accepting of this situation. And how you slightly shifted closer to him meant you find his presence a protector.

As he was documenting each non-verbal cues into his memory, the back of your hand brushed with his, sending a jolt of electric charge. It was as if both your bodies needed a physical reminder that the other half is back and nearby. It was as if a defibrillator had charged his black and blue heart to life once again.

You giggled. “Sorry about that.”

It was a cold night but each laughter wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, warming his weary bones that had been lost in the dark cold woods for so long. “It’s alright,” he stated as he watched you unlock the trunk of your car.

Loading in your grocery in silence, he shuffled ever so slightly out of the way as you closed the trunk and rocked on your heels.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was the only way he could prevent his hands from reaching out and caressing your pink cheeks. He didn’t have the permission to touch you yet—not matter how much he wanted to. So wanted to.

“You look—you look great, by the way,” you stammered out.

“Thanks, you too—look great, I mean,” he stated. He wanted to sing out more praises on how you’d gotten more beautiful, more radiant, and more lovely but he settled on something simple lest he scares you away with the intensity of his feelings. “Do you think could have your number? You know, just in case you’d need help with groceries again.” A feeble excuse.

You smiled. The type of smile that was once reserved for him and he wished for it to still be his. Please don’t say no, please, he realized that if you do, that will be it. That there will no longer be any saving the tragedy between him and you.

As he was starting to slide down the familiar slope of sadness, you nodded. “I never changed it.” You unlocked the driver seat before facing him once again. “Spence—”

He basked in hearing you say his name.

“—I’m different now. So you’ll have to get to know me again.”

“I’m different now, too,” and while you uttered yours as if it was an apology or a forewarning, he uttered his as a promise. A veiled promise that he was now the man that you wanted him to be after all those years.

He reached his hand out. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he hoped you’d play along.

You laughed, clearly intrigued at changes that had happened to him. Here he was, a germaphobe, reaching for a handshake to a stranger regardless of pathogens. You weren’t really a stranger, not really, but he wanted to write a new beginning. The last time was too tragic and ended with goodbyes. This time, this time, it’ll be perfect, he vowed to himself. A perfect fairytale with a happy ending that he could share with his kids with you one day.

“Hi, Spencer,” you reached out your hand into his, engulfing yours in his tight grip. “I’m Y/N.”

He watched as you got into the car, fastening your seatbelt and roll down the window. “I’ll call you.”

“Please do, I’ll be waiting,” you whispered out before backing away from the parking lot.

And he did.

And after a few dates, he slid back the ring that once hung around his neck, sitting near his heart, back to where it belonged—back to your fourth finger where the Romans once believed a vein ran directly to the heart. Vena Amoris, the vein of love. Where it will stay forevermore, never allowing time and the outside to separate what once was meant to be. Never allowing ‘him and you’ as separate, there was just ‘them’.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid oneshot #gw fics

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rkvriki · 1 year

Text

waking up with enhypen !

OMG HI! IM BACK TO WRITING?!!!!???!! surprising i know lolz I'm sorry for my inactivity i promise I'll try harder to be more active JAKE FIC IS COMING SOON!1!1!

make sure to leave feedback! my requests are open and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! none i think??? might contain grammar errors, this was made while I was at my grandma's so bear with me i did this in like 30 minutes

word count: 1.2k

LEE HEESEUNG !

when you and heeseung sleep over at each other's house you always sleep in late. it's usually really calm and you're always the first to wake up. the strong rays of sun hit you right in the eyes and force you to wake up. you look to your side and see heeseung sleeping peacefully with one arm hanging off the bed. you lay on your side as you smile at the view besides you. your hand comes up to brush his hair out off his eyes and you get a clearer view of his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and his slightly parted lips that leave soft breaths. you lean down to leave kisses on his cheeks and slowly trail to his nose, down to his lips. he stirs slightly and his eyes flutter open. he looks at you and closes his eyes again and smiles softly at you as you giggle at him, whispering a soft good morning and kiss him again.

rest under the cut !

PARK JONGSEONG !

mornings with jay are very chill. usually he is the first one to wake up and he gets out of bed right away, not forgetting to leave a kiss on your kiss. he walks down to the kitchen and gets all the ingredients to make your favorite pancakes. he sets the table with plates and your favorite mug. you're laid in the bed you both share and the smell of food immediately hits your senses and you feel your stomach grumble with hunger. your bare feet touch the floor and you slowly make your way to the kitchen. you find your boyfriend there cooking with a pout on his lips, a habit that he has when he is focusing on something. you slowly come behind him and hug his waist as you rest you face on his shoulder. he looks at you and kisses the top of your head, "good morning my love." he says as returns to his cooking and you smile fondly at him.

SIM JAEYUN !

waking up with jake is almost a task. you're always the first one to wake up and you like to start your routine right away but with jake it's almost impossible. on a normal day you would wake up and go to the bathroom to do your morning skincare, but jake likes to hold you down in bed and not let you leave the bed. jake has an arm draped over your waist and his face nuzzled in your neck and he let's out incoherent words that you can't quite understand but he is most likely telling you to stay for a little while. "jake i need to go make us breakfast, let me go." you say trying not to get annoyed right in the morning. he pulls himself closer to you and stuffs his face deeper in your neck "just five more minutes, baby, please." you sigh in annoyance. "I'm going to do my skincare and when i come back you get out of the bed, ok?" he lets out a groan but agrees nonetheless.

PARK SUNGHOON !

mornings with sunghoon are really calm and soft. you both wake up at the same time and usually stay in bed talking or cuddling for a while. you stretch yourself as you try to wake yourself up, you look to your side and see the clock marking 9:40 am. you look you your side and see sunghoon already looking at you making you smile at him and he does the same. you roll on top of him and make yourself comfortable in his chest. "good morning, hoon." you say looking up at him and leaving a peck on his lips. "good morning princess." he returns, running his hands on your hair, pulling you into another kiss. before the kiss got deeper you pulled out, making him chase your lips as you giggle at him. "let's get up and have breakfast or do you want to out for brunch?" you ask him, while caressing his hair. "brunch sounds nice today." you left on last peck on his lips and you both got up to get ready.

KIM SUNOO !

waking up with sunoo is one of the best things for you. usually he his the first one to wake and then he wakes you up with kisses all over your face. he giggles when he sees your eyes fluttering and you turn your head to the side, trying to dodge his kisses. "come on, love. let's wash up and eat breakfast, we have a whole day planned." you hum in response and he pecks your lips in return. sunoo helps you up and leads you to the bathroom. you both wear your matching headbands and do your skincare routine. after finishing you both make your way to the kitchen and sunoo starts making your favorite toast as you set the table with cute plates and cutlery. when he finishes cooking you both sit together to eat as you talk about the date day you planned the day before.

YANG JUNGWON !

sleepovers with jungwon always end up with you guys staying up until almost 3am. you stay up watching movies and talking and laughing about random things. so, you both usually wake up around 12/13 pm usually with someone calling you, forcing you both to wake up with the sound of your ringtone. jay often calls any of you to ask if you want to eat lunch together with the rest of the guys and obviously you both accept since it's too late to be cooking. you both lay in bed for some good 5 minutes, complaining about having to wake up and get ready. after your protests, you both go to the bathroom and wash up, trying to wash the sleep away from your eyes and trying your best to depuff you face. "we really need to start sleeping earlier." jungwon says and you agree, but you both know it's not gonna happen.

NISHIMURA RIKI !

let's be honest, most of the times you and niki have a sleepover you don't sleep. you always end up pulling an all nighter, but when you do sleep it's always messy. you never know who's gonna be the first one to wake up, it's never the same person. when you're the first one to wake up it's chaotic. you take some time to fully wake up while laying on your back and then you look to the side to see niki still sleeping, snoring quietly. you smile to yourself and roll on top of him making him wake up right away as his hands instantly make their way to your waist, holding you against him. "baby what are you doing? what time is it?" he asks still trying to process what's happening. "nothing baby, just wanted you to wake up." you say as you peck his lips with a big smile. "you need to stop doing this every time you wake me up, seriously!"

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ghettogirly · 3 months

Note

Ok, What about armando aretas finding out you're pregnant with his baby. He found the stick (anywhere doesn't matter).

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

-> synopsis: what would armando be like if he found out you was pregnant?

-> theme: angst and fluff.

-> warnings: mention of abortion, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m currently posting this to keep you guys fulfilled while im working on some short stories. those take longer than these little headcanons so i apologise for the wait! hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you guys want a taglist as well.

[🕷️] 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 that you was pregnant about a week ago when you kept throwing up in the morning and was more light headed than usual.

-> telling your friends about your symptoms one day at brunch caused them all to look at you with widened eyes, their faces being explicit with the same expression. Fear.

-> “bitch, you’re pregnant.”

-> “what is armando going to think about this?”

-> what is armando going to think about this.

-> she was right.

-> you guys have never even discussed having kids before, both still being fairly young as you were under the age of 25.

-> you only worked in a cake shop as you was still a student, trying to finish your college degree.

-> the weight of your friends opinions dawned on you as you slowly sipped the lemonade you bought, the icy temperature of the drink awakening your nerves.

-> “fuck.”

-> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 laid there on the marble countertop as both of your hands were rested by it side by side. Your hair hung down as you stared at it.

-> It was really true. You was pregnant.

-> The overwhelming thoughts clouded your mind, removing the ability for you to be happy about the idea of motherhood. Instead somber about this rude awakening. It wasn’t meant to happen now. Was it ever supposed to happen?

-> You and Armando never even spoke about the possibility of kids, just focusing on your free-spirited relationship as you both did whatever you pleased. Parties, meetings, the thrill of running from danger, running from law enforcement.

-> That was all going to change.

-> A wet feeling landed on your hand. Then another and another. It was teardrops. The transparent dots of water dropped onto your hand, staining them a little. Eventually an avalanche of tears would cascade down your face, causing you to uncontrollably sob as the obsessive thoughts became more and more out of control.

-> “Babe, ¿Estás aquí?”

-> Your eyes quickly widened as you heard a voice downstairs in the living room, the only man having that deep of a voice, your man. Armando. Quickly wiping your tears, you threw the stick into the bin next to the toilet, walking out of there as if nothing happened.

-> However, it was as if Armando sensed something was wrong. Not being a man of many words, he just simply raised his eyebrow at you, referencing for you to tell him what’s wrong. Yet, you just rolled your eyes and smiled. “Nothing is up.”

-> Still not satisfied he looked at you intensely, his face stoic as ever. Nevertheless, he left it alone and trusted you to tell him eventually. “Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.”

-> You bring him into a hug, not caring about him being late. Just being happy he’s finally home. He wrapped his arms around you, engaging with the hug as his pointer finger tapped you gently on your back. That being a little thing he does, acknowledging how much he missed you.

-> 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃, you was passed out on the couch after watching a movie with Armando. Your empty takeout boxes being on the table.

-> Armando went upstairs to shower, allowing the water to cleanse not only his body but his mind too, the day for him being exhausting. He moved his hand to turn the water faucet off, his black hair being a wet mess, dripping slightly on his shoulders.

-> The male opened the shower door. Picking up the towel from the sink, he noticed something stand out from his peripheral vision. He moved his head slightly to turn towards the object that caught his attention, noticing a blue and white stick on top of the trash within the bin.

-> Peering down at it, he noticed it to be a pregnancy stick. “¿Qué es esto..?”

-> 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏, you notice Armando in front of you. Slamming the object down onto the table, he looked at you. Anger controlled every feature of his face as he stood there. Digusted.

-> “Espero que lo estés terminando.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑. You slowly sat up, facing him as his eyes were struck with concern. Still adjusting to reality, you rubbed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

-> There he gently placed the stick on the table. Not saying a word, just looking back at you, waiting for you to lead the conversation. “I was going to tell you.”

-> “It was in the trash.”

-> You couldn’t object to that, he was right. You wasn’t really going to tell him, hoping that it was all just a lie and that the stick wasn’t even real. Hoping it was one big dream.

-> Looking at him solemnly, you felt your eyes welling up with tears the second time that day. This time, he didn’t say anything but embraced you into a hug instead, kissing your forehead.

-> “Enfermo nunca te dejan.. i would never abandon you.”

-> Those words were the music to your ears. “Damn these pregnancy hormones are annoying.”

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“¿Estás aquí?” : Are you here?

“Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.” : Sorry for being late, i was busy.

“¿Qué es esto..?” : What is this?

“Espero que lo estés terminando.” : I hope you’re terminating it.

“Enfermo nunca te dejan..” : I’ll never leave you.

#jacob scipio #armando aretas #imagines #reactions #headcanon #armando lowry #badboys ride or die #armando armas #bad boys #headcannons #short story #stories #armando x female oc #armando x reader #armando lowery #scenarios #angst #fluff

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tootiecakes234 · 5 months

Text

Katsuki’s birthday

“Katsuki Bakugo, if your ass isn’t ready in the next 15 minutes, you’re gonna be sleeping at Eijirou’s house the rest of the week cuz you WONT be allowed in this house!” You tell him with pointed look.

“I told you, you shitty woman, that I don’t want to go to some stupid birthday brunch. I want to stay home and I want YOU to cook for me while I do nothing. It’s my fucking birthday.” He shouts back.

“But that’s what we did last year! And the year before that!” You try reasoning with him.

“Yeah it’s called tradition” he says even as he stands up and starts walking over to his closet.

“Well, love muffin, traditions were meant to be broken.” You go up to him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“What the hell ever. I’m not paying for a damn thing and I’m ordering the most expensive thing they have on this stupid menu. Don’t forget your purse.” He grumbles.

You’re dressed in a nice spring dress that’s a flower pattern and all flowy. You look so adorable and then you see Katsuki and hot damn! You forget how good this man looks when he’s not in a black t shirt and joggers. Not that he doesn’t look hot as hell in that but he looks edible right now all dressed up.

“Damn big man, you got a lady. If you do, I bet I’d do stuff with you that she wouldn’t dare.” Your voice oozes cheekiness.

“My girlfriend would put your loser ass to shame! Just last night she did this thing in bed-“

You clamp your hand over his mouth. “Ok ok I get it.” You can feel his smirk against your palm. “You always take stuff to far.”

“I always finish the shit you start.” He moves your hand and wraps his arms around your waist. “I like this dress by the way. The only thing getting me through this brunch is gonna be knowing I get to take it off later.”

He bends down and presses his lips to you.

You have to pull yourself away and grab his hand to pull him behind you. “Let’s go before we are late”

“You don’t think those shitty ass friends of yours are gonna be late too? I’ve never seen them be on time for a goddamn thing”

When you guys get to the car, you walk to the passenger side and open the door for him.

“My king” and you do a little bow.

“You’re so fucking insufferable”

The smile on your face doesn’t disappear as you climb into the drivers seat.

“Where is this place anyway?” He questions as your pull off.

“On the outskirts of town. It’s a place Eiji found a while ago. He said it’s 10/10”

“Oh fuck, are we really listening to recommendations from that red head idiot?? He would eat toast smeared with dirt if you covered it in protein powder.”

“ ‘Suki he’s not that bad.”

“Tch”

Eventually you pull up the place and you can see Katsuki looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Did you dumb ass get lost? This is not a restaurant.”

“Surprise!!! It’s an adventure park! They have paintball, laser tag and zip lines and stuff. They also serve food but it’s like snack type things but I though that’d hold us over til we get home so I can cook.”

You are wearing the biggest grin and your excitement it’s practically bouncing off of you.

“Oh and I brought clothes for you to change in to. I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise by telling you to dress casual….. do you like it??” You ask him.

“You’re proud of yourself aren’t you?”

“Very”

“I…. Fucking love it. Are those tools still coming cuz I’ve got ass to kick.”

You bound over the seat and hug him. “Yep they are probably already inside. I told Mina to get here early to check us in.”

He slides his hand over your face and gives you a small smile before you places a kiss on your forehead.

“You did real good baby. Thank you”

“You’re welcome hot stuff. Not let’s get in there and give those guys a taste of Pro Hero Dynamight!”

“Hell yeah!”

This asshole won every game you guys played except for laser tag and thats only cuz you guys cheated! But he deserved it, he was getting too cocky for his own good.

BUT by the end of the night, he had you feeling like the real winner🤭

Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @sukunas-bratt @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989

#imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #drabble #bakugo headcanons #fluff #bnha katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #kacchan bakugou #bakugo #bakugou

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krirebr · 3 months

Text

More Than This 7

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~3.9k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and em dashes, non-stop continuous action (not the car chase kind, but like, the no section breaks kind), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: There's no going back now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

I cannot wait to talk to you all about this one, so please leave me a comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think! And if you need to come scream at me, that's even better!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows. You rolled over and checked the time. It was after nine. You’d slept hard—the exhaustion of everything catching up with you. And yet you still hadn’t woken up feeling rested. You couldn’t remember the last time you did.

You grabbed your phone and groaned when you saw all the notifications. Texts, missed calls, two voicemails. All from Steve. He was freaking out.

Are you ok?

Did something happen?

Please call me

And a few more just like them. You were too tired to answer. You didn’t know how. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t ignored your messages before. You grimaced at your own pettiness. You would answer him when you knew what to say.

As soon as Lola noticed you were awake, she hopped off your makeshift bed and ran to the door, scratching at it to be let out. You sighed. Of course, the safety of your isolation couldn’t last forever. The good news was that it was late enough that Ransom must be gone. You could put that off at least until the evening.

When you opened the door, Lola at your heels, you heard someone moving around downstairs. You hadn’t thought it was a Carol day, but you must’ve lost track. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs that you saw Ransom puttering around in the kitchen, his back to you. Your stomach dropped. Shit shit shit. Why was he here? You contemplated running back into the gym, but as soon as she saw him, Lola darted out ahead of you and raced down the stairs so she could dance around at his feet. He crouched down to greet her. “Morning, Lola,” he rumbled, his voice still full of sleep. “D’you have a good night?” She hopped up and down, pawing at his leg.

You took a deep breath and gathered all of your courage. “She wants breakfast,” you said from your place on the stairs.

His head whipped up to you. He stood up awkwardly. “Oh, uh, where’s her food?”

You came down the rest of the stairs and passed in front of him into the kitchen. “I’ll do it,” you said as you went straight to the cabinet where you kept Lola’s meal supplies.

Once you had her fed and briefly let her out the back door, you noticed multiple bags of take-out on the island. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, uh,” Ransom rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at you. “I thought we should probably have breakfast. Together. And I didn’t really know what you like, so…” he shrugged.

You quickly took stock of the food. There were diner waffles, pastries from a bakery, eggs benedict from a fancy brunch place. “Thank you,” you said. “That’s nice.” You grabbed a danish from the pastry bag and sat down at the island. “I, uh–” you started then stopped, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night. I, uh– I don’t know what happened. I– I was scared, I guess, by the–” you gestured to your stomach. “But um, I shouldn’t’ve– It won’t happen again, you know? I’m fine now. Everything’s fine.”

Ransom leaned against the counter, facing you, and closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then looked you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m so fucking tired of that word.”

You set down your pastry and looked at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re always so fucking fine, aren’t you? I ask how your day was, it was fine. I ask how you feel about something, it’s fine. I ask what’s wrong when you’re clearly upset, and you say, ‘Oh nothing, everything’s fine.’ It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s fine! I can’t hear it one more time.”

All you could do was sputter for a moment. “What– What are you talking about?! I’ve just been doing what you wanted!”

“How is this what I wanted?” he asked, his frustration shocking you..

But then, your mind started to catch up a bit and you were suddenly filled with indignation. “You told me to pack light! You– You– You made it clear! I know you don’t want me here so I’m just– I’m just trying to do what you want! I'm staying out of your way!”

He laughed and the hollow sound was so startling. “This is you staying out of my way? You’re just this presence that’s always here! That makes me feel unwelcome in my own home!”

That had you standing up so quickly that it sent the stool you’d been on tumbling to the floor behind you. A frightened Lola scampered up the stairs, her collar tinkling sharply, but neither of you noticed.

“What?!” you shouted, “How could– I– This is your house! How could you ever feel unwelcome here? I’ve never felt welcome here for even a moment! I’m not even a guest here, I’m just this, this– I don’t know! I’m just this pest that you wish you could exterminate but you can’t. You don’t want me here and I feel it every single day.”

“Well, you’ve never told me that, have you?” He almost growled out. “I’m just supposed to know! I see you making this list in your head of everything I’m doing wrong, all the ways I’m disappointing you but you never say anything about any of it. But then when I don’t know how to fix any of it, because I don’t actually know what’s wrong, you resent me for it!” You started to open your mouth and he slammed a hand down on the island between you. “Don’t deny it. I can see it whenever you look at me. You’ve decided that I’m the villain here, right? I’m the bad guy in this story. And I don’t–” He moved his hands to his hips and looked away from you, shaking his head. “I have no idea who you are,” he said, quieter now but no less forceful. “You don’t want me to. You have me just grasping at straws and– But you’ve just decided, huh? That you know exactly who I am.”

All you could do for a full fifteen seconds was just gape at him. He looked tired suddenly. Sad, as if that made any sense at all with anything that had happened. But then you remembered everything that had happened and your anger came flooding back. “Yes, I know who you are. Of course, I do! Because you showed me! It’s like you’ve completely forgotten how we met. Or our wedding!” A tear fell down your cheek and you knew more were about to follow, ready to tip over your lashes. You wanted to wipe them away, but you also just couldn’t take the time to stop right now. “You were awful! Really fucking awful. Right from the beginning you were so cruel and– and now– No! I– How can you expect me to come to you with anything when you all but told me not to during that first dinner?! When you told me you didn’t want me taking up any space here? Or that you would get rid of Lola?! Of course I don’t talk to you! What am I supposed to talk to you about when you terrify me? When everything I have comes from you and you don’t give me anything? When you hold all of the power?!”

“What fucking power?” Ransom shouted, throwing his arms wide. “If I had any power at all, neither of us would be in this mess!”

“It’s still more than I have! I have nothing! You’re the heir. You matter to people. I’ve only ever been a bargaining chip. And now that they’ve made the deal, no one gives a shit what happens to me. You could do anything to me, and they wouldn’t care! Even my mom–” You cut yourself off, tears choking your voice.

There was a beat of silence, and then, “Even your mom what?” Ransom asked, his voice rough. He was staring at you like the next words out of your mouth would be the most important ever spoken.

And it was only because you felt it too, everything riding on this, that you managed to say, your voice so small and your eyes downcast, “She only ever asks if I’m making you happy.”

When he didn’t say anything to that, you looked back up to find him staring at you, his eyes incredibly serious. But not angry, something– something else. Finally, he sighed and, putting both elbows on the island, said, “I’m really fucking miserable. How ‘bout you?”

You would try to examine it later, the way your instinct in that moment was to apologize or try to downplay your own feelings, your mom’s voice in your head no matter how much you hated it, but instead you took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I’m– I’ve been so unhappy.”

He nodded then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think,” he said slowly. “I think we’ve both been acting like if we just ignore this hard enough we’ll wake up one day and this will be over and our lives will go back to normal. But now with the–,” he gestured to you. “We can’t keep doing that. We gotta– We have to figure out a way to live with this.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, wrapping one arm around your stomach. You couldn’t help but look at him a little warily. Was this real? Did he mean it? “How do we do that?”

He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know.”

You just looked at him for a moment before you were interrupted by your stomach growling loudly. “Sorry,” you said, awkwardly. “I didn’t eat much last night.”

“Right,” he said with a decisive nod, “breakfast.”

You each served yourselves from all the food he’d ordered. He righted the stool you knocked over and you both sat down to eat. You didn’t say anything, neither of you did. You figured he had just as much to think about as you did.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d said he had no idea who you were. It’d been easy, maybe, to forget that this was something that had happened to both of you, when you were in his house, facing his family, working your way into his life. It’d never occurred to you, after that first meeting, that he might want to get to know you, might want to see past all the walls you’d put up to protect yourself. But you felt like they were fortified now. You weren’t sure how to take them down.

Even though you kept your focus on your food, you could tell he kept glancing at you. You felt his eyes on you every few minutes. Finally, as you both finished up your food, he cleared his throat. “I’m an asshole,” he said quietly. “I just am. I always have been. But uh, you didn’t– You didn’t deserve that at dinner. Or the wedding. Or when I yelled at you last night. It didn’t– I don’t think it occurred to me that you’d take me, what I said, seriously. I’m not used to people listening to me, not like that.”

You stared at your plate for a moment and tried to keep breathing. “I– Of course, I took you seriously. What else would I do? I didn’t know you and I was already so scared and– How was I supposed to know you didn’t mean it?” You could feel yourself starting to cry again and wiped furiously at your eyes.

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I– I didn’t do a good job of understanding how hard this was for you. And I– I’ll try not to do that again.”

All you could do with that was nod.

“But uh– I need you to talk to me, tell me when something’s wrong. I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I’ll, uh, I won’t be mad or– I feel like the few times you’ve let yourself be upset, those are the only times I felt like I could actually see you. I want to be able to see you.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m uh,” you started, trying to find your words. “I’m used to having to put on a mask. It’s really hard for me to not do that.”

He nodded slowly. “How ‘bout,” he said, “I’ll try to be less of an asshole if you try to let yourself be more of one?”

You laughed. You couldn’t help it, it just bubbled out of you, to your own surprise. “Sure,” you smiled, “yeah. Deal.” You met his eyes and he looked proud of himself. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you have to look away. You put all your attention into taking a last bite of your food.

“So,” he said, and he sounded serious again. “I think we should talk about last night.”

It took everything in you to not shrink down. You wanted to do anything else, but he was right. You needed to. So you nodded and waited for him to start.

“You said– Well. You said a lot of things. But let’s start with– You said I keep you trapped here.”

Your brow furrowed a little bit. “Well, yeah, you only have one car and you don’t have a driver. How am I supposed to go anywhere?”

The dawning realization on his face would have almost been comical if it had been about something that hadn’t caused you so much pain. “Oh my god,” he said. “I– Why didn’t you– No, right. Yeah.” He took out his phone and started typing. “I’ll figure something out. Do you drive?”

“Steve taught me, a little, when I was a teenager. But I’m not– I’m not super comfortable,” you shrugged.

“Ok,” he said typing a few more words, then put his phone down. He looked at you very seriously and said, “Now I need you to tell me exactly what you meant about siccing my mom on you.”

“Oh, well, just that she came over, you know, the next day after I told you I wanted to find a job.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Here? She came here?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, not entirely sure what was happening. “She let herself in and said you’d talked to her about how I wanted to work and that you wanted me to focus on giving you a family. That that was my job now.”

Ransom’s face darkened in a way you’d never seen before. “Fucking–” he growled. “Goddamnit.” You watched him warily and when he made eye contact, you saw the way he worked to soften his expression. He shook his head. “I never said that. I just, I brought it up to her because she has connections, you know, in surprising places. I should have known. I was stupid. And when you didn’t bring it up again, I just, I assumed it hadn’t worked out and you didn’t want to talk about it.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to make himself calm down. “Did she say anything else?”

You looked at him carefully. It was almost like he looked different today, something about him. It really did seem like he was trying. So you took a breath and decided to trust him. “She wasn’t very nice to me. She never is. She’s– She’s only ever been awful to me.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly, “that’s fucking Linda. Alright, she comes here again, I want you to tell me. Don’t even talk to her, just call me right away. She tries to call you, you tell me. She ever says anything to you, you tell me, ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, and you didn’t know how to guard yourself from the warmth that spread through you. “I’ll tell you.”

He nodded. “Good. And if you still want to get a job, I’ll help you, ok? I want to do that.”

“Yeah, I,” you sighed, “I don’t know. Everything’s really overwhelming right now.”

“I get that,” he said, “but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” you promised. Then, when he didn’t immediately bring up another topic from the night before, you raised one of your own. “Um, you never use your gym.” He looked at you, confused, and you shook your head at yourself. “Sorry, it’s just, you have all those rooms upstairs that you never use, and well, you and I,” you rested a hand on your belly, “we did what we needed to do, right? So, uh, I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here and if it’s alright, I’d like to, uh, turn that room into my room.”

There was a long pause, long enough for you to get uncomfortable, start to worry that you’d messed up. His face was blank, you couldn’t find any clues there. Then, finally, he seemed to shake himself and said, “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll have it cleared out for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Great! Thank you! I’m sure you’ll be happy to have your own space back.”

“Right, yeah,” he said and nodded several times. “Yeah.”

You both got quiet again after that, but it didn’t feel as oppressive as it often had before. Eventually, you began cleaning up breakfast together. As you moved around him in the kitchen to load the dishwasher, you paused. “Hey, uh, what’d you tell your parents? About last night, dinner?”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from the fridge. “Just that I was suddenly violently ill and we couldn’t make it.”

That stopped you completely. You’d been bent over as you loaded plates, but now you stood up, giving him all of your attention. “Really? You didn’t– didn’t blame me? Or uh, tell them about–”

He finished what he was doing and closed the fridge, then closed some of the space between you. “What? No, fuck that. Listen, any excuse to not have to deal with Richard and Linda is welcome. I’m serious. Fuck them.”

That was when everything really hit you, just how badly you'd misread so much of what had happened. Of all the pain you’d suffered over the past months, how much of it had been self-inflicted? Would everything have been so much easier, for both of you, if you’d just been willing to talk to him? For what felt like the thousandth time that morning, you felt your eyes beginning to well. You tried to turn your head away, but Ransom noticed before you could.

“Hey,” Ransom said quietly as he approached you cautiously, stopping right in front of you, his hands hovering in the air between you both. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said, your voice tight. “I don’t know. I just– Everything’s just been so hard.”

Ransom sighed, heavily. “Yeah. I know.”

“Um,” you let out a defeated, embarrassed little laugh as the tears began to fall down your face. “Do you think it’s too early to blame pregnancy hormones?” you asked, as you tried to make yourself stop crying.

Instead of dismissing it as a joke, Ransom looked at you very seriously. “I think that you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

There was something about that, the way it felt like acceptance, that made the tears come even harder.

It was then, of course, that your phone started vibrating on the counter, Steve’s ID flashing on the screen. “Oh,” you said, “um, shit.” You just stared at it, not quite able to pick it up. “I, uh, texted him last night. During everything. I’m sure he’s freaking out now.”

“Right,” Ransom nodded. “Well, I’ll give you some privacy.”

You were suddenly filled with the ridiculous need to not be alone right now. “Uh, yeah, thanks. But, uh, maybe, maybe don’t go far.” Your voice dropped out a little at the end of the sentence, embarrassed.

He looked at you carefully and you couldn’t imagine what he saw. A mess, probably. “Yeah,” he said, “of course. I’ll be just upstairs. Shout if you need me.”

Then he left and you took a deep breath. The call had gone to voicemail while you’d dithered, so you called Steve back, sure he’d try again anyway if you delayed any further.

He picked up immediately. “Oh thank god,” he breathed. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just–” you began, trying to keep your voice strong. But of course, you couldn’t hide from Steve.

“Are you crying?” he asked gruffly. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not, Steve,” you lied.

“Chipmunk,” he said, sadly, knowing how hard the childhood nickname would hit you. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You closed your eyes as tightly as you could. “Nothing. It’s just–” You knew you had to tell him something but you had no idea where to start. You could tell him, you supposed, about– about the baby, but it felt impossible to say out loud. And you had no idea how he’d react. Or, rather you had a very good idea, and it was very, very bad. You didn’t have the energy for that. Or the strength and courage. Not now. Maybe not ever. But you couldn’t talk about what happened the night before and this morning without mentioning that part, so really, you couldn’t talk about anything. And you knew your brother. You knew how that would go over. “I’m tired. And I miss you.”

He was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, all he said was, “I know something happened.”

“It didn’t Steve. Everything’s fine.”

“I know you’re lying to me. Why are you lying?” He was pleading now and you were too tired and hormonal for this.

“Steve,” you pleaded right back, your voice breaking just a little. “Can you please just believe me? Just this once?”

There was another long pause, and then, “Goddammit, I hate this. I can’t– I worry about you all the time. Every time I see a missed call or text from you, my stomach drops. But now you won’t talk to me. And I can’t help you. I don’t know what to do about any of it.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “I know you think you should always be able to fix everything, but there’s just nothing for you to fix this time, ok? Please?”

He just sighed and you both quietly sat on the phone together. You didn’t know what to say to him but couldn’t hang up. Finally, he broke the silence with “I really fucking miss you.”

You smiled just a little, even as you wiped the tears from your face. “I fucking miss you too. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said quietly. He sighed again. “Ok, I should go. But we’ll talk again soon. Take care of yourself.”

“Ok,” you said softly. “Bye.” You hung up and set your phone down then put your head in your hands and let yourself cry without trying to stop it. You didn’t notice anything happening around you until you felt a weight settle onto the couch beside you and suddenly your lap was full of Lola. Then a hand gingerly touched your back. When you didn’t move away, it started gently moving up and down. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

The strangest sensation came over you. You couldn’t explain it, but as you sat there on the couch, crying while Ransom rubbed your back, you somehow felt the best you had in months.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign @reader2003 @zaqnette @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @itsteambartowski @mrsstuckyboo

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #arranged marriage au #more than this #kris wrote something

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 11 months

Text

the kraken's girl

pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: smut, mild fluff and mild comedy. minors dni.

warnings: monsterfucking, tentacles, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), double penetration, male masturbation, oral sex (f rec), dirty talk, multiple creampies, brat!reader, switch!cheol, exhibitionism

word count: 3.4k

summary: neither you nor seungcheol expected to blow up twitter after your sex-nanigans. but that didn't stop you from meeting up again.

Author's note: happy halloween beloveds! this is the next installment of Vodka Slime. major thanks to @gyuwoncheol and @smileysuh for proofreading and screaming in my draft loves🥰

disclaimer: the twitter usernames used in the fic were randomly picked, any resemblance with real twitter usernames is 100% coincidental.

Fifty thousand followers. Fifty fucking thousand new people followed your Twitter account within a single night, all thanks to the two minute clip you uploaded before falling asleep.

Your head is spinning with shock and excitement, arousal coursing through your body as you read the retweets one by one.

“GIRL WHO IS THIS”

“monster cock at its FINEST”

“me when me when me WHEN”

“eating a brick wall as we speak”

“i’ve never felt more submissive and breedable in my life before”

You giggle every time you scroll down, biting your thumbnail and kicking your feet like a kid who did something naughty. Although you’re not a kid anymore, your tendencies are definitely on the naughty side.

As if on cue, you receive a message from Seungcheol, who also retweeted your post on his account.

cherry_csc: we really caused a ruckus huh

You rapidly type back.

prettylilfreak: ikr ppl were STOKED

You receive another message from him.

cherry_csc: we can always make another one yk?

cherry_csc: if you’re down i’m down too

You rub your thighs at the thought of fucking Seungcheol (and his tentacles) again, but this time, you’re not 100% sure about filming it.

prettylilfreak: why don’t we discuss it over brunch? i know a place that makes mean choco waffles

prettylilfreak: unless aliens are allergic to waffles or smth

cherry_csc: if i told you i have never eaten waffles before would you believe me?

prettylilfreak: i’ve seen worse from you tbh

cherry_csc: ok fair point

cherry_csc: send me the address and the date, i’ll be there

prettylilfreak: cool, see you soon <3

You search for the restaurant and book a table for two, sending the info of the reservation to Seungcheol a few seconds later. You close your phone and let it plop down next to your pillow. You lay flat on your bed with a stupid grin on your face, your insides still squelching with need.

You turn your head towards your nightstand and open the last drawer where you keep all of your toys.

Just a quick one won’t hurt, you think and grab the tentacle-shaped dildo, licking your lips.

If only it was as good as the real thing.

“Damn, these waffles are really amazing.” Seungcheol gulps down a hefty bite of his choco waffles.

“I told you so! They are delicious.” You mirror his actions.

“Although I think you taste better than the waffles.” He sends you a wink and you nearly choke on your food.

“Damn, no need to die from waffles!” He passes you a glass of water and you drink it all in one go.

“And there was no need to spit out stuff like that without warning!” You try to clear your throat.

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” He rubs his neck awkwardly.

“Waffles and choking aside, I think we should pick up the conversation from where we left it off.”

“You mean the Twitter DMs? Sure, I’m all ears.” Seungcheol wipes his lips with a paper towel.

“So, about that….I must admit that I had one hell of a time with you that night, and…”

“And?”

“And I definitely wouldn’t mind if we repeated it.”

Seungcheol licks his bottom lip seductively.

“But I have a condition.”

“Name it.”

“I don’t want to film anything for my account.”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh. I certainly didn’t expect that.”

“Are you disappointed?” You toy with your fingers.

“What? No, of course not! It’s your account after all, you’re calling the shots in the end.” He reassures you. “Can I ask why though?”

“Let’s just say that I want to….experiment with you.” You rest your face between your palms.

“Experiment? What are you, a NASA researcher?”

“No, but you left some unanswered questions and I want answers.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is about.”

You smack your lips. “I’m glad you catch on quickly, it saves me a lot of talking.”

“You need to clarify some things first, sweetheart.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Seungcheol.”

“I beg to differ, doll.” He purrs the petname on purpose and you feel a chill running down your spine.

You stuff your mouth with more waffles, chomping on them like a starved animal to avoid answering to Seungcheol.

“You’re so stubborn, but I guess that’s part of your charm.” He plays with his bottom lip as he watches the cutlery in your hands move with light speed.

“Eat as much as you can, doll. You’re gonna need a lot of energy for later.”

The fork and knife fall from your hands and clack on the plate as you try your best to swallow the bite in your mouth.

“You….need to be restrained.” You point your finger towards his face in a menacing way.

“Hmm, I can think of a way.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You can always fuck around and find out.”

You stare at the smirking man in front of you, contemplating his indirect proposal.

“You motherfucker.”

“How the fuck do you afford an apartment like this?!” You yell as soon as you enter Seungcheol’s home.

“I might be an alien, but I’ve been on Earth for over a decade. I think it’s enough time to learn how to make money.” He replies as he takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I don’t think I want to indulge my curiosity about your personal life right now…” You mutter.

“I know you don’t, Y/N.” He grips your thighs and puts your legs around his waist, carrying you like this all the way to the bedroom.

“I guess your tentacles and cock aren’t the only strong parts of your body.” You grip his shoulders as he carefully lays you down on the double-sized bed.

“Not to brag, but I spend a lot of hours at the gym to keep myself in that shape.” He grins and rolls his hips against your crotch.

You suck a harsh breath through your teeth. “If you do this one more time, I swear to God I won’t be able to hold back.”

“That’s okay, doll. That’s why I’m here - To keep you in check.”

Seungcheol frees himself from the iron grip of your legs and straightens his back. You feel slightly intimidated by his muscular build, but the intimidation molds into heady arousal when he discards his clothes one by one, until he’s utterly naked.

“Your turn, baby. Take them off.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You taunt him.

His voice grows stern. “Take off your clothes or I will rip them to shreds.”

You swallow thickly and take off your t-shirt, followed by your jeans. Your hands shyly creep behind your back and they toy with the clasp of your bra.

“There’s no need to be shy with me, Y/N.” Seungcheol kneels on the bed and cages your legs with his muscular thighs. “Now, take off the bra like a good girl.”

You exhale shakily and unclasp your bra, you slide the straps off your shoulders and remove it from your body, your nipples perking up.

“Perfect. So fucking perfect.” Seungcheol mutters before he pushes you towards the headboard and climbs on top of you.

“Don’t you want me to take off my panties?” You ask.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you want to slide your big, mean cock inside my pussy, Cheol?” You pout your lips on purpose and roll your clothed pussy against his naked shaft.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen today, doll.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Then why the f-”

Seungcheol shushes you with his finger on your lips. “I’ll make it all worth it, I promise. Now, I want you to sit across the headboard. Can you do that for me?”

“You better keep your promise, otherwise I’ll block you from my socials!” You crawl on the other edge of the bed with a grumpy look on your face.

Seungcheol gets comfortable against the headboard. “This is barely our second time together, but I don’t plan on dumping you, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes. “The way I’ve heard the last part so many times from other men.”

“First of all, I am not a feeble human, even if I have human appearance. And most importantly…” His tentacles appear from his back and slide around his thighs.

“No man would ever do the things I’m about to show you.”

“That sounds pretty ambitious to me, Cheol.”

“I am ambitious, doll. And meeting like-minded people strengthens my own ambitions.”

You flash a sultry smirk. "Good to know we're on the same page."

The tentacles keep gliding over Seungcheol's body, leaving a slimy trail on his skin.

"Remember when you asked me about my tentacles spitting stuff?"

"I do. And what about it?"

"Watch and you'll find out, doll."

You nearly gasp when two thick tentacles wrap around Seungcheol's thighs and hold them apart, exactly the same way your thighs were spread.

But he doesn't stop there.

Another tentacle binds his wrists above his head, rendering him completely helpless and exposed.

"Sheesh, didn't know you had an exhibitionism kink going on, Cheol." You rub your thighs together.

"I've never done this before, so consider yourself lucky."

"You've never jerked yourself before?"

"More like I've never used additional help to jerk off before."

Two more tentacles appear in front of him, one morphing into a literal fleshlight and the other approaching his rim dangerously.

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Cheol?"

"One fucking hundred percent, doll."

The fleshlight engulfs Seungcheol's cock completely and the other tentacle slides into his hole simultaneously, making him cry out in pleasure.

"H-Hah, ah, f-fuh…."

"Shit, Cheol, that's-"

"Nothing I cannot handle, s-sweetheart."

He bites his bottom lip when the fleshlight starts sucking his cock and the other appendage thrusts in his ass rather strongly.

You never expected him to pull off this stunt and truth be told, it has you soaking through your panties and clenching around emptiness.

He's struggling to keep his eyes open from how good his own tentacles are making him feel - sweat has started to form on his forehead and neck, his skin turning glossy.

"Does it feel that good?" You ask him, rubbing your thighs together.

"Stop pretending to be sympathetic, I know you enjoy w-watching me like this." Seungcheol groans as he digs his nails into his palms. "But yeah, it f-feels good." His thighs jolt with each thrust and suck delivered by the tentacles occupying his sensitive spots.

You're certain the fabric of your panties has turned into second skin from how much you've soaked them and you haven't even been touched yet. This is the first time you're affected by a man to this degree and you almost feel embarrassed. Almost.

"Fuuuuck, that shit is so good." Seungcheol leans his head back and his puffy lips fall apart, deep moans filling the room with the same speed his tentacle is filling up his hole. The fleshlight picks up the pace and starts sucking his cock harder and his hips buck up, but the slimy restraints keep him down effectively.

"A-Are you cumming, Cheol?" You ask him, "Because I might do so, untouched."

"Don't you fucking dare." He growls at you for a split second, but his expression forms into one of pure bliss as he finally reaches his climax, loads of cum being milked from his cock.

You fist the sheets beside you and bite your bottom lip to suppress your whines as you watch Seungcheol lose control thanks to his own tentacles, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to calm down from his intense orgasm. The tentacle that was torturing his hole retracts slowly and your eyes fixate on the slimy residues all over his cock and ass. The restraints on his wrists and thighs disappear as well and his arms drop down on his sides with a loud groan.

Blond hair streaks are stuck on his forehead, sweat is dripping down his chest and his breaths are ragged and heavy.

But his gaze still lingers on you.

"That was….fucking insane."

"I take it you…. enjoyed the show, doll?"

You spread your legs and show him your drenched panties, a low whistle blowing from his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I don’t want to sound greedy or anything but… I’m kind of suffering here.” You point towards your pussy and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

“I know you are. But worry not, the real fun starts now, Y/N.”

Seungcheol snaps his fingers and two tentacles attach themselves around your ankles, dragging you directly in front of him. You yelp when he puts his hands on your waist and he flips you over with little effort, propping your ass up and pushing your waist down.

He runs his hand from your waist to the curve of your ass. “Mmm, that’s a pretty arch you have, baby.”

He squeezes your flesh and gives it a sharp smack, a gasp echoing in the room. You wince away from him, but his hand on your waist keeps you in your place.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already!” You whine in defeat.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

“I don’t care! I just want you to fill me up until I can’t think straight anymore!” You shake your ass in an attempt to entice him.

“I can definitely do that, doll.” Seungcheol uses both hands to rip your panties apart and throw them on the floor. He pries your lips apart with his thumbs and hisses when your slick runs down from your entrance and glides on your clit.

“But I might have to get a taste of that pussy before fucking it.”

He catches your honey with the tip of his tongue right before it falls on the sheets and moans at the taste of it. He slowly rolls the tip around your bundle of nerves and you bite the sheets to muffle your noises.

“I want to hear your voice, Y/N. It’s unfair to hear it only through your twitter posts and not directly from you.” He actually begs you and it has you keeling over.

“What’s unfair is you trying to beg me to moan, when you know I can’t resist your pleas, Seungcheol.” You grumble, yet you push your ass closer to his face. “Now, I would like you to use your pretty mouth to- AH!”

Seungcheol grips your ass and smothers his face in your drenched cunt, his tongue rubbing your clit and his nose nudges your hole. You can feel the curves of his lips savoring your juices and you can hear the sloppy noises they create - pure music to your ears.

“So, mmfh, fucking delicious…” He purrs against your pussy, “Makes me wanna - umffh- keep you by my side forever.”

Your walls clench harder than before and so does your heart - but you choose to shove that piece of information in the back of your head. It’s a bit early for that, you think.

You let out a particularly whiny moan when he circles his tongue around your hole and he laughs when more of your slick gushes out, but this time, he lets it drip down on his lap.

“I don’t know what’s messier, my tentacles or your pussy?”

“S-Shut up!”

He slaps your ass. “Don’t talk back to me, doll.”

“Or what? You’re gonna rail me until I pass out?”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and musters the strength he has left in his thighs to climb on top of your body, as if he’s about to mount you. Your breath hitches in your throat when he plants one hand next to your head and uses the other to pull your head back.

“That is actually a wonderful idea, sweetheart.” His lips barely touch the shell of your ear, but his voice is enough to make your spine shudder.

You open your mouth to give him a snarky reply, but the oxygen is knocked out of your lungs when two of his tentacles fill up your ass and pussy without warning, fitting tighter than a glove. He lets go of your hair and cages your wrists with his hands, rendering you immovable.

“See what happens when you talk back to me, doll?”

“F-Fuck, s-so f-full….”

“Yeah? You have no idea how full you’re gonna be after I’m done with you.”

You can feel his cock resting on your ass and twitching with need.

"Remember when you asked me if my tentacles can spit stuff?"

"Y-Yeah?" You try to keep your brain intact, but the tentacles thrusting in your holes make it hard for you.

Seungcheol presses his lips right behind your ear and sucks on your earlobe. His voice has dropped to a mere whisper.

"They do and it's all mine."

Your eyes start fluttering when you feel his thick cock slide between your cheeks and fuck them as if he was really fucking your pussy - even if he somehow does it.

The tentacles ram you almost violently, the little suckers gliding against your walls. You're at Seungcheol's mercy, unable to move, unable to think and unable to form coherent sentences - just a pretty little toy for a hot alien and his slimy tentacles.

And you fucking love every single second of it.

"C-Cheollie, I wanna cum! Please!" You cry out, hands fisting the bedsheets.

"Yeah? You're close, sweetheart?"

"Fuck, I am!"

"Go on then, let go for me." He kisses your temple and fucks your asscheeks harder.

You finally cum and it hits you like a raging waterfall, your entire body shaking and trembling like an autumn leaf trying to stay on the tree before it's blown away.

"Hang in there, doll, we're almost t-there." Seungcheol's ragged breath fans over your cheekbone, his hands letting go of your wrists to grip your waist.

His tentacles come to a halt and throb inside you, pumping your holes full of his cum, until a few drops start slipping out.

Fresh tears run down your cheeks when the tentacles detach from your holes, wincing when the sticky mess flows out of you. Your moans are growing louder every time Seungcheol's pelvis slaps against the curve of your ass, his nails digging in your skin.

"Such a great fucking ass, all mine to fuck, ugh!" He throws his head back as he cums, splashing his load all over your back and ass, painting it white. He pumps his cock with his hand a few times before smacking the tip over your ass.

"Cheol…..I can't move…" You pout your lips tiredly.

"I know, baby, I know." He gets up and pats your head before disappearing from the room.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a clean towel and the feeling of the soft cotton wiping you clean from the sticky mess covering your back and private parts almost puts you to sleep.

"Hey, don't fall asleep yet, I need to actually wash you." Seungcheol gently rubs the towel over your spent holes.

"Will you carry me to the bathroom?"

He lets out a chuckle. "Well, it's not like I have any other choice, since you technically can't walk."

"I wonder whose fault is that, huh." You mumble against the mattress.

"I'm sorry, doll." Seungcheol swipes your hair away from your face, "Although I did enjoy fucking you dumb."

You support your upper half on your arms. "To be completely honest, I really enjoyed it - hell, I asked for it."

He catches your lips in a short yet gentle and sweet kiss, melting into his pillowy lips.

"We can always-"

"Repeat it?"

"No," Seungcheol picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. "I mean, I would love to, but I would prefer to take you out on a proper date first."

"Oh? I didn't know aliens had romantic tendencies." You joke.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Y/N. And I'm pretty sure there are lots of things I don't know about you."

"Are you saying you actually want to get to know me better?"

"Yes. To put it with your words, I'd like to experiment with you."

You look away purposefully. "I might be a tough formula to crack."

He carefully puts you in the bathtub and kneels in front of you, his eyes meeting yours.

"Consider this challenge accepted, doll."

#svthub #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #svt scoups #choi seungcheol #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen #tw monsterfucking #tw tentacles

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