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pucksandpower · 3 months

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That’s Not My Name

Toto Wolff x wife!Reader

Summary: in which people assume you are everything except for your husband’s wife

Warnings: mentions of a significant age gap

The Daughter

You take a deep breath as you step through the paddock, clutching your pass tightly in your hand. The noise and energy of the Formula 1 weekend thrums around you. You’ve never been to a race before, and it’s all so new and overwhelming.

When Toto invited you to join him for the British Grand Prix, you were hesitant. This stage of your relationship is still so new — you’ve only been married a few months. But Toto was insistent. He wants you by his side.

Still, you feel out of place among the teams and journalists. You’re just a normal girl, plucked from obscurity by a man twice your age. What must they all think of you?

You arrive at the Mercedes garage and glance around nervously. The mechanics are bustling about, focused on their work. You spot Toto across the garage, talking intensely with his drivers. He looks stressed, his brows furrowed as he discusses strategy. This high pressure environment is his domain, but it’s foreign to you.

Toto glances up and notices you hovering near the entrance. His face breaks into a smile and he quickly excuses himself from his conversation to come greet you.

“Mein liebchen, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You cling to the solidness of him, drawing comfort from his familiar embrace.

“I wasn’t sure I should come,” you say softly, glancing around. The mechanics are staring curiously. You know how it must look — their team principal hugging an unknown woman half his age.

Toto cups your face gently, “I want you here. This is your world now too. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”

You bite your lip but nod, trusting in him. If Toto believes you belong here, then you do.

He tucks you under his arm and leads you further into the garage, introducing you to his team. They greet you politely, hiding any surprise or judgment. You know you’ll have to win them over, prove that you’re more than just Toto’s midlife crisis.

A sudden commotion draws your attention across the paddock. The Red Bull Racing team is gathered around the entrance, greeting their team principal enthusiastically as he arrives. Christian Horner is holding court, shaking hands and clapping shoulders.

You tense involuntarily. The rivalry between Mercedes and Red Bull is legendary, with Christian often attempting to get under Toto’s skin. You don’t know how he’ll react to you.

As if sensing your thoughts, Toto tightens his arm around you. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

But you can’t relax as you see Christian look your way, his gaze sharp and assessing. He says something to his team and begins walking towards the Mercedes garage. Your heart sinks. There’s no avoiding this confrontation.

“Toto!” Christian calls out jovially as he approaches. “I see you’ve brought a special guest this weekend.”

Toto presses his lips together but forces a polite smile. “Yes, I wanted her to experience her first race weekend. Christian, meet Y/N, my wife.”

You extend your hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Christian raises his eyebrows, blatantly looking you up and down. “Your wife? My, they do start young these days.” His tone is patronizing.

You blush deeply, humiliated. But Toto comes to your defense.

“I’d appreciate if you leave her out of our rivalry,” he says sharply. “She has nothing to do with it.”

Christian holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get defensive! I just didn’t realize you had gotten hitched again. And to someone so … fresh faced. She could be your daughter!” He chuckles.

Your face burns. You hate Christian for putting voice to that thought. You know people judge you and Toto for your age difference. Hearing him joke about it so callously stings.

Toto steps forward angrily but you grab his arm, silently begging him not to cause a scene. He takes a deep breath, struggling to contain his temper.

“It was lovely to meet you, Christian,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “I do hope you’ll have a good weekend.”

Christian looks surprised by your composure. He nods farewell and heads back to the Red Bull garage, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toto turns to you. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says earnestly. “Christian is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”

You shake your head, swallowing back tears. “It’s fine, I knew people would think those things about me … about us ...” you trail off miserably.

Toto cups your face in both hands. “Look at me. None of that matters. He can think what he wants. But I know who you are. You are my heart, my present, and my future. No one can take that away, not even Christian bloody Horner.”

You give a watery laugh at his vehemence and he kisses your forehead tenderly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, finding your courage again. “I want to be here.”

Toto smiles proudly and laces his fingers through yours. “Good. Let’s show them we’re not going to hide. I want you here, where you belong.”

Holding hands firmly, you walk with your head held high back into the bustling garage. Let them stare and whisper. You know your place is here with Toto. No judgment or rivalry can change that. This is your world now.

The Assistant

The day has been a whirlwind so far. After the confrontation with Christian Horner, you tried your best to settle into the hectic swing of pre-race preparations. Toto has been swept up in strategy meetings and sponsor obligations. You trail along behind him, clutching your paddock pass, trying not to get in the way.

During a rare free moment, Toto turns to you. “Why don’t you go exploring for a bit? Get a feel for the place. I need to take this call but I’ll come find you soon.”

You nod uncertainly. Venturing off alone makes you nervous, but you want to prove to Toto you can handle this new world.

You wander toward the garages housing the Formula 2 teams. The cars are lined up, mechanics hovering over them making final tweaks and adjustments. You watch them work, enthralled by their practiced movements.

“Are you lost?”

You turn to see a mechanic frowning at you. He’s from one of the backmarker teams, a lower budget operation.

“Oh no, just looking around,” you stammer self-consciously.

The mechanic’s eyes drop to your pass. “Ah a VIP pass eh? Who are you with?”

“Oh um Mercedes ...” you trail off awkwardly.

His eyebrows raise, impressed. “Posh. You must be Toto’s new assistant then?”

You freeze, the old insecurity rising. Assistant. Because why else would someone your age be hanging around the Mercedes garage? You want to correct him, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t want to make a scene.

So you just nod and mumble something noncommittal. The mechanic looks sympathetic.

“First race weekend is it? They can be chaotic. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Who knows, if you impress the boss, you might get to travel full time!”

He means it kindly, but his words dig into your wounds. You give a thin smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”

You turn away before he can respond, a lump forming in your throat. No matter what Toto says, people will make assumptions about you.

Lost in thought, you wander toward the bustling fan zone. It’s a sea of colors, supporters wearing their favorite team’s kit. You pass unnoticed, just another face in the crowd.

The roar of an engine makes you glance up. The Formula 2 cars are being pushed out of the garage, heading for the grid. You hurry over, eager to get a closer look.

A harried looking engineer nearly runs right into you, focused on his tablet. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.” He does a double take. “Hey, you’re Toto’s new assistant right? I saw you with him around the paddock earlier.”

Your heart sinks. Word has spread. You open your mouth to correct him but he barrels on.

“Listen, I hate to do this, but any chance you can help me out? My usual assistant called in sick and I’m swamped. I just need someone to hold these and stand with the engineers during the race. You’ll get a front row view of the start!”

He looks at you pleadingly. You hesitate, but his need seems genuine.

“Um, sure, I can help,” you say.

“You’re a lifesaver!” He exclaims, piling several tire blankets into your arms. They’re heavier than you expected. “Just follow me.”

He leads you onto the grid and you get swept up in the controlled chaos, focusing on not dropping the blankets. The cars pull into position around you. The engineer directs you where to stand and you end up right against the barrier, the engines roaring just feet away.

Your heart races with excitement. The start is exhilarating, the cars peeling away in a blur. You forget your insecurities for a moment, lost in the thrill of the race.

The checkered flag waves and the engineer finally relieves you of the weight in your arms. “Thanks so much for your help! I really appreciate it ...” he pauses. “Actually I don’t think I got your name?”

You open your mouth but a familiar voice interrupts. “There you are!”

Toto appears through the crowd and pulls you into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you alright?”

He notices the engineer standing there awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Toto asks coolly.

“Nope, we’re all good here. Thanks again for your help,” the engineer nods at you and disappears into the dispersing crowd.

“What was that about?” Toto frowns. “Why was he giving you tire blankets?”

You sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you again. “He thought I was your new assistant. He needed help so I said yes.” You shrug helplessly.

Understanding flashes across Toto’s face and he swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone. I should have made things clearer who you are.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping out, really.” But your voice wavers, betraying your hurt.

Toto cups your face gently. “No, it’s not okay. You are my partner, my equal. Not my assistant. I need to show people the extraordinary woman you truly are.”

His faith bubbles up your own courage. You straighten your shoulders, looking him in the eye.

“Then let’s go show them. I’m not hiding anymore. Take me where I belong, right by your side.”

Toto kisses you fiercely. “With pleasure, meine liebchen.”

He tucks you under his shoulder proudly. You keep your head high as you walk back through the paddock, passes reflecting in the sun. Let them stare and whisper. You know where you belong.

The Trespasser

A few months later, you’re starting to find your stride. Each race weekend poses new challenges, but with Toto by your side you’re learning to navigate the hectic world of motorsports.

The Mercedes team has slowly warmed up to you as well. Seeing how happy Toto is has softened their skepticism. You pitch in where you can — bringing freshly baked pastries and trying to make yourself useful. Having a purpose eases your lingering insecurities.

The Singapore Grand Prix means a sweltering heat that makes the paddock sticky and humid. The stuffy garage offers little relief so you wander outside hoping for a breeze. You end up in the fan zone, mingling with supporters visiting the various team merch shops and activities.

You chat with a few enthusiastic young fans, gently deflecting their eager questions about Toto and the team. Despite the heat and crowds, their passion for the sport is contagious and you find yourself smiling.

Toto texts that he needs you back at the garage, so you reluctantly leave your anonymous conversations and make your way through the paddock. As you draw closer to the Mercedes garage, you realize your pass has gone missing from your lanyard.

Your heart sinks. The passes grant crucial access and you don’t want to cause problems. But the garage is just ahead so you decide to explain yourself once you’re inside.

Slipping through the open door, you immediately spot Toto in the back. As you weave between bustling mechanics, a hand grasps your shoulder.

You turn to see one of the newer Mercedes mechanics frowning down at you. “What are you doing in here?” He demands. “This area is restricted.”

Flustered, you try to explain about your missing pass. But the mechanic’s stern expression doesn’t waver.

“How did you get in? I know all the team members but I haven’t seen you before.” His eyes narrow suspiciously.

Other mechanics have noticed the confrontation and start drifting over. You shrink under their doubtful gazes.

“I, uh, I’m Toto’s ...” you stammer, but the mechanic cuts you off.

“A likely story. Every race some starry-eyed fan tries to sneak in for an autograph or photo. You picked the wrong garage for that. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm in a firm grip. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he escorts you briskly outside.

To your dismay Toto is occupied with an intense conversation, his back turned. No one intervenes as the mechanic marches you away from the garage and into the paddock.

“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’ll be reporting this. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around restricted areas.”

You tug uselessly against his hold, trying to explain it’s all just a misunderstanding. But he remains stoic, unmoved by your pleas.

Other teams and drivers are staring now as he parades you past. Your face burns with humiliation at the thought of causing a scene or being accused of lying.

In a stroke of luck, you spot Lewis heading towards the Mercedes motorhome ahead. He knows you, surely he can clear this up!

You call his name desperately. “Lewis, Lewis! Help, please!”

Lewis turns, confusion clouding his features. But then he recognizes you and his brow furrows.

“What’s going on here?” He asks sharply, striding over.

The mechanic snaps to attention, clearly intimidated to be addressed by Lewis directly.

“I caught this girl sneaking around the garage! She claims to know Toto but it’s obviously a ruse to get access. I was just escorting her out.”

Lewis looks incredulous. “This is Toto’s wife, mate. She’s supposed to be there.”

The mechanic gapes, his authoritative air dissipating. “His wife? But she’s so young ...” he glances at you uncertainly. “My apologies, ma’am, I didn’t realize. We have to be vigilant about security.”

You shrug off his now-slack grip. “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” you mumble, face still burning.

Lewis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you back where you belong.”

He leads you away from the shrinking mechanic back toward the Mercedes garage. You feel tears pricking your eyes.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you say shakily. “I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen ...”

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is new around here, still learning the ropes.” Lewis pats your shoulder consolingly.

You nod, trying to brush it off. But the encounter left you rattled. Will there always be those who see you as an outsider?

Lewis seems to sense your swirling doubts. “He was just new. The team knows you well by now. Stuff like this will stop happening once the rest get used to you being around.”

You want to believe him. You’ve tried so hard to find your place here.

As you near the garage, Toto comes rushing out, scanning the paddock anxiously. His shoulders sag with relief when he spots you.

“Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone!” He exclaims, pulling you into his embrace.

Over his shoulder, you see Lewis mouth “tell him” before discreetly slipping away.

You take a deep breath and explain what happened with the mechanic. Toto’s expression darkens, his protective anger rising.

You touch his cheek gently. “It wasn’t his fault. It was just a misunderstanding.”

Toto sighs, anger melting away. “I should have been there. I should have introduced you properly to the new staff.”

You shake your head. “You can’t be responsible for how everyone sees me. I don’t need you fighting my battles. This is something I have to earn for myself. Their respect, their trust … I just need more time.”

Toto gazes at you with so much love and pride it takes your breath away. “You are so much stronger than you know. And if they can’t see that, well that’s on them.”

He kisses you softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”

And wrapped securely in his arms, you finally believe it’s true. This is your world now. Your place is here, with him.

The Nanny

The warm early autumn breeze ruffles your hair as you wait outside the primary school, keeping one eye on the time. Any minute now the bell will ring, signaling the end of your son’s second day of preschool.

You smile thinking of this morning and his eager goodbye hug before practically sprinting into the building, too excited to look back. He has his father’s confidence.

Shifting the baby carrier holding your sleeping newborn daughter, you smooth down your dress self-consciously. Even after years with Toto, you still can’t help but feel out of place at posh schools like this.

The other mothers eye you curiously. No doubt wondering about the young woman with an infant waiting alone.

You know some of them recognized Toto yesterday when he dropped off and picked up your son. Your heart had lurched seeing him cradling Leon’s small hand, both your boys glancing back to wave goodbye.

But duty called for Toto today with important meetings at Mercedes’ Brackley Headquarters, so pickup fell to you today. Not that you mind another glimpse of that overjoyed grin when your son spots you.

The bell rings and a stream of children come pouring out the doors. You crane your neck, looking for a familiar head of tousled curls.

There! You wave eagerly as your son breaks into a run when he sees you.

“Mama!” He cries joyfully, slamming into your legs. You stroke his hair, hugging him tight.

“Did you have a good day baby?” You ask as he looks up at you adoringly.

He nods, launching into a story about finger painting that you can barely follow. But his enthusiasm is contagious and you can’t help but smile.

A polite cough interrupts you. An immaculately dressed woman is hovering nearby, eyeing your son curiously.

“Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Clarice, Emma’s mum,” she gestures to a girl clinging shyly to her leg.

“Lovely to meet you,” you say politely, shaking her offered hand. “I’m Y/N and this is Leon.”

You ruffle his curls and he gives a dimpled smile before hiding against your side. Clarice’s eyes flick between you and your son, a slight furrow in her brow.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I met Leon’s father yesterday during drop off. Is his mother … not around?” She asks delicately.

Your cheeks flush. Of course she would assume you’re the nanny, not the mother. Bracing yourself, you shake your head.

“No it’s okay! I’m his mother. Toto — Leon’s dad — had meetings today, so it’s my turn to do pickup.”

Clarice looks mortified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for assuming. You just look so young, I thought ...” she trails off, flustered.

You force an understanding smile. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy mistake. Our age difference does raise some eyebrows.” You punctuate this with an awkward laugh.

Clarice seems eager to change the subject. “What a beautiful baby!” She gushes, peering at your daughter sleeping in her carrier. “And so well behaved.”

Grateful for the redirected conversation, you chat politely about your little girl. Clarice coos over her sweetly.

Other parents begin dispersing with their kids and Clarice makes her goodbyes. “So lovely meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You smile and take Leon’s hand to drive home, his chattering filling your ears. You know curious parents will likely gossip about Toto’s young wife. But it doesn’t sting as much as it once did. You’ve grown used to the assumptions by now.

Unlocking the front door, you’re greeted by the smell of cooking. Leon goes tearing off to the kitchen, shouting “Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you follow after, your daughter beginning to stir in her carrier.

Toto is there to sweep Leon into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses as your son giggles. The scene warms your heart.

Noticing your arrival, Toto sets Leon down to embrace you and peer at the baby. “How was pick up? Any tears today?” He asks Leon.

Your son shakes his head proudly. “I made a picture for you, Papa!” He runs off to retrieve it.

You meet Toto’s gaze over your daughter’s downy hair. “It was fine. Just the usual questions about my age from a school mum. She thought I was the nanny when we first met.”

You try to say it lightly, but Toto’s face tightens, protective anger flashing. Even after all this time, he hates when people judge you unfairly.

You touch his arm gently. “It’s okay, really. I don’t care what they think.”

And it’s true. The opinions of strangers can’t touch the beautiful family you’ve built together.

Toto lets out a long breath, anger melting away. “I know. But I still wish people could see you how I do.”

He pulls you close and you lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent. “As long as you and the kids see me, that’s all that matters.”

Leon comes barreling back in, brandishing his painting. “Look!!”

You both admire his abstract swirls of color dutifully. “A masterpiece!” Toto proclaims. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”

Leon beams under the praise then dashes off again in pursuit of a toy.

You and Toto share a wry smile. “Never a dull moment with that one,” you remark. The baby begins fussing and you gently sway her.

“Here, let me.” Toto takes her expertly and she settles against his broad chest. Your heart squeezes at the sight.

Toto meets your gaze. “I know I’ve put you through a lot over the years. The stares, the gossip … you’ve endured it all with grace when you could have walked away.”

You stroke his cheek. “You and our family are worth any trial. I would do it all again without a second thought.”

Toto leans into your palm. “Having you by my side is the greatest gift.”

You kiss him softly, your heart brimming with love.

From the other room, Leon’s playful giggles reach you. The smell of dinner being prepared still fills the warm kitchen. And your baby girl doses off in her daddy’s arms.

This is your world. The only one that matters. And you know for certain you belong.

The Husband

The morning sun streams through the hotel window as you sip your coffee, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Race weekends are always a whirlwind, but you’ve learned to carve out small moments of calm when you can.

Toto is already down in the paddock prepping for qualifying today. The room feels empty without him. Sighing, you click over to TikTok, hoping for a distraction.

Immediately a video pops up on your feed from a fan account, the caption “so cute!” catching your eye. You tap play, assuming it’s another clip of drivers’ kids or someone’s grid walk antics.

But you nearly spit out your coffee when the video loads. It’s Toto, standing by the circuit entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They’re prodding phones toward him eagerly, voices babbling over one another.

“Toto, what’s it like being Y/N’s husband?” One asks boldly.

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. In all the years by Toto’s side, you’ve never heard anyone flip the script like that. It’s always been “what’s it like being Toto’s wife?” You’re an accessory to his fame, not the focus.

Toto looks momentarily surprised, then laughs good-naturedly. “She is extraordinary,” he proclaims sincerely. “Being with her is a privilege every day.”

The girls sigh dreamily at his romanticism. Another chimes in, “You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished!”

Toto nods, his expression tender. “I am in awe of her strength and resilience. She has faced so much scrutiny with grace. And now people finally see her incredible spirit.”

You press a hand to your mouth as tears spring to your eyes. After years by his side, Toto’s steadfast faith in you still takes your breath away.

“So you’re proud to be Y/N’s husband?” The first girl presses.

“Absolutely.” Toto doesn’t hesitate. “She is my inspiration.”

The video ends and you sit staring at the screen, cheeks wet. Never did you imagine your own fans, separate from Toto. But these girls look up to you, see you as more than just “the wife.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Toto.

Have you seen the video? The PR team says you’re trending on TikTok!

You type back shakily.

Just watched it. Made me cry happy tears 🥹

His response is immediate.

You deserve all the praise, meine liebchen. I meant every word.

Wiping your eyes, you get up and dress quickly. Down in the paddock, you spot Toto right away. He sweeps you into his arms.

“There’s my superstar wife.” His eyes shine with pride.

You kiss him fiercely. “Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I doubted myself.”

Toto touches your cheek. “You’ve earned every bit of admiration. Don’t ever forget your worth.”

As he walks you into the bustling garage, mechanics glance up from their work to smile and wave. The fans hover nearby, whispering excitedly when they see you.

You no longer feel out of place here. This is your world now, as much as Toto’s. You’ve claimed your seat at the table.

Standing confidently by your husband’s side, you wave back, ready to take on the day.

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starkwlkr · 2 months

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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #platonic #f1 x female reader

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l3viat8an · 4 months

Note

Out of the demon brothers who’s most likely to take playfighting super seriously and who treats it more like a game? or maybe a little sexy ;)

I know I’ve talked about play fighting with the boys before but that was more rambling so I tried to make hcs this time!!

Little bit suggestive in a couple of parts but mostly silly hcs!

Lucifer knows his strength and he’d hate to accidentally hurt you (again) he’s the oldest too so he kinda thinks it’s beneath him 🙄 If it’s more his attention you’re after he’d rather just give you kisses.

That being said; if you can get Lucifer in a really good mood he’ll just chuckle, raising an eyebrow while watching you try to hit his chest. Not like you can actually hurt him- You’ll probably get bored quick and it’s only then that Lucifer moves. Grabbing your waist so he can turn you around and slap your ass- if you say anything he’ll just play it off, saying it’s how he wants to play~

Mammon oh you wanna fight?? Then get ready to fight!! he take it soooo seriously and it’s a good excuse to manhandle you just a little bit!!-

Mammon doesn’t work out for nothing ‘n of course he likes to show off for you! He carries you to your bed and even throws you around a little, laughing the whole time!

He’s fully convinced he’s in a wrestling match and even yells some silly slogan he just made up. Of course he still pays attention to every little thing you do, he’d never forgive himself if he actually hurt you while messing around.

Levi doesn’t really play fight- and if you hit him, he thinks you hate him- he’s more into tickle fights where you’re rolling around tangled up together and laughing!!

Tho there is a chance he’ll randomly bite you, it’s like cuteness aggression takes over and seeing skin = bite you in his head!!! ‘n this could absolutely happen mid tickle-fight!! You’ll feel his teeth nip at your neck / arm / shoulder / wherever he can reach, really. He just likes to bites you. you make him happy? He bites you. It’s simple really. Any excuse is a good excuse to cover you in his bite marks.

Satan also takes it way too seriously- he doesn’t want to hurt you! And he doesn’t really have a good reason for why he takes it so seriously….he just likes to play-fight with you.

You couldn’t beat him in a real fight anyways- but like this he can pretend and let you ‘beat him’ !!There’s also something really hot about the way you pin him to the floor, and smirk down at him while triumphantly shouting “I win.” in that moment all he wants to do is sit up and kiss you-

Asmo the first time he almost cries that you absolutely can’t hit his face!!

But after that he’s a little intrigued, and he can’t lie it is fun to toss you around a bit- ‘n more often then not it’ll turn into something a little hotter~

he’ll looks at you with a little smirk on his face and let you throw a punch or two at him. But before your blows can land you’ll hear Asmo’s little giggle as he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands up to his face and kissing each of your fingers before pulling you into a hug, whispering that if you really want to fight……you’ll have to fight naked~

Beel There’s no way either of them will fight back- even if it’s for a joke he’s too afraid he could to hurt unintentionally.

Beel is too big and worried about his size. He thinks whenever he’s touching you, it should be to make you feel good or make you feel safe. Not to play-fight, but if he ever did try it he’ll probably just kinda poke your cheek or just hold his firsts up while he lets you try and hit him. Don’t worry, your firsts feel more like taps to him.

Belphie loves to tease you, joking that ‘there’s just no way your little human punches would hurt him.’

But he’ll still let you try, his favorite part is when you do hit him and he lets out an involuntary ‘oof’ the huge, goofy, grin on your face almost makes him want to smile too-

He’ll get you back tho!- Belphie will full on tackle you as he starts to tickle you until you have to beg him to stop. But he just laughs tickling you a little longer.

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klovesyall · 1 month

Note

Oh my. My brain is full of ideas, but I can't write.

Spencer, but it's his first time showering with his gf? Either she casually invites him to join her, or maybe she's also a member of the BAU and was injured and needs some assistance?

AN: oh absolutely hun. I wasn’t sure if you wanted nsfw or fluff so I went with fluff for a safe option. Also I’m so sorry if this lowkey sucks. This is definitely my first rodeo with writing and I know it’s not perfect but I hope you kinda like it?

OK MORE RECENT AN: im sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I don’t even have an excuse. And I’m so sorry because this is ASS. But I feel bad not giving you anything so here you go

Warnings: Fluff, swearing? , talk of nakedness and stuff idk

————————————————————

Spencer had been extra protective of you ever since you got hurt. He didn’t want you to lift a single finger, even though you were perfectly capable. He made you food , carried your bags, hell- he even offered to carry you if your crutches got too annoying. All of this to say , he was willing to do anything to make you comfortable.

“Spence, I’m gonna take a shower.” You say with your back turned as you grab some pajamas out of the dresser drawer.

“What?” His voice was filled with concern, as it often was. When you turned around toward him he had the same amount of concern written on his face

“I have to shower Spencer, my hair is so dirty it looks wet.” You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, relying on dry shampoo and braided hair to get you by.

Spencer was thinking for a moment , you could tell by the way his brow furrowed slightly. He finally answers “Let me help you.”

You were slightly taken aback by his response. Spencer wasn’t usually confident enough to initiate or out right suggest anything intimate. And taking a shower together was definitely intimate. Not to say you were opposed to the idea though

“Are You Sure Spence? You do know I shower naked right?” Your tone was some what joking but also kind of not. Regardless you hear the little chuckle you love so much

“Yes I know. I dont want you to fall and get hurt any more than you already are. If you don’t want me to thats fine I just-“

You cut him off

“That would be really helpful, thank you.”

You see Spencer’s worry ease from his face and it’s replaced with a little curve of his lip

You give him a little smile before returning to grabbing your pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Spencer graciously follows you inside, locking the door behind him. When you turn to the counter , Spencer is quick to slip past you, turning on the shower for you.

“Do you take your showers warm or hot.” Spencer asks as if it’s so incredibly normal

“Uh hot I guess? It’s ok I can-“

He stops you when you begin to walk over

“Let me Take Care of you. Please.”

You sigh “you know I can do it myself.”

Spencer takes a step toward you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders

“I know, but I don’t want to risk anything. You do so much for me and you deserve to be helped as well, especially when your injured. So please let me do this for you.” His voice is soft but you can tell how strongly he feels about this

“Ok, I’ll let you handle it.” I say

He smiles “can I take your clothes off?”

I Nod “You don’t have to ask.” You said that a lot, and it didn’t matter how many times you did. Spencer always asked

He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms. He pulls the shirt off your body and folds it before placing it on the counter. He does the same with your pants. Your standing only in your underwear now

“Do you want me to do the rest?” You ask

He shakes his head “turn around for me.”

You turn so your back is facing him and he unclasps your bra, sliding it down your arms until it hits the floor. He hooks a finger under your underwear on either side of you, pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He smiles when he meets your eyes again

“See something you like pretty boy?” You raise an eye brow in a teasing manner.

“Always.” He replies before walking you over to the shower. Holding his hand, you slowly take a step inside until your under the water. Once inside , Spencer takes a step back and sheds his clothes as well before joining you in the shower.

Spencer had ensured that you had a shower bench installed into the bathroom you shared when you moved in together. He said it was for safety reasons but, you still wondered if it might be for other things.

“Sit.” Spencer says, leading you to the bench.

When you sit down he detaches the shower head and wets your hair. When it’s what he considers wet enough, he lathers shampoo into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp.

This man has very capable hands, many uses. And washing your hair just got added to the list of them. You close your eyes from a moment letting out a contended sigh

“Feel good sweetheart?” Spencer asks gently

“Mhm, definitely.” You reply, barely opening your eyes.

Spencer rinses out the shampoo and conditions your hair. He helps you wash off and when you finally stand , you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands lace around your waist

“Thank you Spencer, you’re an angel.” You say pressing little kisses to his jaw. You can see the blush creeping on Spencer’s face.

“You’re welcome, I’m always happy to help you.” He says peering down at you.

The two of you exit the shower. Wrapping towels around your selves and getting dressed- well Spencer refuses to let you dress your self so he helps you. He even blow drys your hair for you because he knows you don’t like going to bed with it wet.

————————————————————

You lay in bed on your side facing him as he looks back at you. You reach out and brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” Spencer says breaking the silence.

“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of going into work. Plus Hotch would have my head if I didn’t go.” You say and Spencer sighs

“I don’t like the idea of you out on the field” he says once again with concern

“You’ll be with me. I’ll be fine.”

He sits up “I don’t want you to be fine I want you to be healthy.”

You sit up and scoot close to him “Spencer I’m going to work. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay back with Penelope and help her.”

Spencer relaxes a little “yea. Ok that makes me feel better. But don’t go doing anything stupid. That means no trying to entertain Penelope with” Spencer throws up air quotes “crutch tricks”

You groan and lay back down “whatever you say.”

You can hear Spencer’s little laugh as he turns off the lamp.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #x reader #fluff #i can’t write #idk how to tag this #foryou #dr spencer reid #writing prompt #request #white guys

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avocado-writing · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush who is so oblivious that they told him with confidence that no one would be interested in them romantically?

yes of course lovely, it’s always a pleasure writing your prompt lists 😊💕

Astarion

definitely thinks you’re joking at first.

laughs, then sees the defeated lag of your shoulders, the way you can’t tear your gaze from the ground.

wants to do his usual blasé retort, but is torn because well. he really cares for you.

I think, after a moment of silence, he reaches out and takes your hand. threads his fingers through yours.

“darling… there is so much of you to love, it’s mesmerising.”

he can’t look at you while he admits this of course, but he feels the way you squeeze his hand in yours and his dead heart skips a beat. 💕

Gale

utterly baffled.

of course someone would love you romantically?

from a practical point of view he just starts listing things off: you’re kind, a good leader, big-hearted, have a strong moral compass…

and then he just lapses into the things he likes about you.

that you’re so lovely. so good-looking. that your hair is nice and your eyes are spellbinding.

only realises he’s gone off on a tangent when he sees you grinning at him, then gets a little embarrassed…

gives you the confidence to press a kiss to his cheek though, and after that he’s beaming for the whole day 🥰

Wyll

shocked. shocked and appalled that you think that way about yourself.

takes you out for a stroll, just the two of you, and ends up waxing lyrical about all the things you have going for you.

he tries not to turn it into a confession but my man is a romantic, and soon he ends up spilling everything.

the way every time you smile at him his heart speeds up and his cheeks get hot. how you deserve someone who’ll be by your side through everything, and he’s not afraid to be that someone despite everything you’ve faced on the road.

he’d keep going if you didn’t muster up your courage and pull him into a long kiss 💕

Halsin

is old enough to understand self-doubt doesn’t just go away in one day. he’s admired you for a while so he tries to start actively courting you.

little gifts appear for you. carvings of your favourite animals, flowers you’ve mentioned liking the perfume of.

he finds a reason to be by your side every day. always tries to make you smile and laugh.

and eventually you realise… oh, what you believed before? about nobody ever feeling romantic love towards you? that was totally wrong. because there is your Druid and you’ve just realised his heart is totally devoted to you.

when you have this moment you immediately run to find him and throw yourself into his arms rom-com style lmfao ❤️

Dammon

“that’s… that’s not true! there would be plenty of people who’d love you.”

you look up into his eyes. they’re soft and sweet, and there’s a desperation behind them as the words come tumbling out of his mouth, too late to stop them.

“I’d love you. I do love you.”

a moment passes. he’s worried he’s messed up.

then you stride across the room to bring him into a kiss and his face gets hot enough to rival his forge… 🔥

Rolan

”don’t be so foolish.”

you’re utterly gobsmacked, because you were being so vulnerable, admitting your worry. “excuse me?!”

he tries to backtrack and make it look like he didn’t just insult you, lol

”there’s nothing wrong with you. you’re… wonderful. anyone would be lucky to have you.”

cheeks a bright crimson, and he’s so bad at hiding his emotions that you clock what this is instantly. it’s a confession.

“oh…” “don’t worry, forget it, I didn’t say anything—!” “rolan, would you like to get a drink tonight?”

he might combust. but he squeaks out a “yes.” because honestly? he was worried about the exact same thing you came to him to confide…

Zevlor

is firm in how silly you’re being, but kind.

holds your face in your hands to get you to look at him.

swears how lovely you are, his words like a pledge. like a prayer.

and when this paladin tells you all this? how could you believe him to be wrong.

maybe someone would love you romantically. gazing into his warm eyes, maybe someone does.

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agi-ppangx · 2 months

Text

side quest (lee minho x gn!reader)

fluff, no warnings, shy mimo !!!

an: based on this lovely request !! i had so much fun writing this and i really like how it turned out, so i hope you'll enjoy it as well<3 please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“excuse me? hi,” you heard someone’s voice behind you as you were collecting your stuff from the desk. when you looked over your shoulder you noticed a guy from your classes who sat in the back row and always did great at exams. you smiled shyly with rosy cheeks and tilted your head a bit in a silent question.

“hi?” you responded hesitantly, desperately trying to remember his name. It was something starting with an m maybe…?

“i’m minho, we haven’t really spoken but um…” he said quietly, fidgeting with his bracelet. minho, right. “i noticed the badges on your bag and i- i wanted to ask if you play that game?” he finally mumbled, looking at you. you noticed his ears were as red as a tomato and it actually made your heart beat a bit faster - he was just too cute like that.

“oh, um- yeah, i do,” you said, glancing at your bag with a smile. “i’m not that good, though. i mostly play for the vibes, y’know, there’s not really anyone who could teach me all of those complicated strategies and stuff,” you huffed, lowering your head, and you didn’t notice as minho’s face lit up with hope at your words. his eyes sparkled as he watched you carefully adjust one of the badges and it made him a bit bolder to speak up again.

“maybe we could play together sometimes? i could teach you some things,” he suggested and it made you smile wider than before. you raised your head, looking minho in the eyes and it made him a little flustered, but he couldn’t give up now. not when he finally spoke to you, after so many times when he saw you in class and wished you would notice his curious gaze whenever you would adjust your badges as usual. minho thought this subtle habit of yours was oddly heartwarming, the way you always took care of them made him wonder if you would also take care of someone the same way.

“sure, i’d love that,” you said with a huge grin and minho finally felt like he could breathe again. he exhaled loudly, earning a soft giggle from you.

“can i maybe have your number, then?” he asked shyly, handing you his phone, and you smirked.

“be careful, because i'm about to think that the game was just a cover to get my number,” you giggled again, getting bolder, and you typed your number quickly as his eyes widened.

“no! no, i- you just seem really cool and we play the same game and-” he started rambling in pure panic, so you playfully rolled your eyes and placed a tiniest peck on his cheek to make him stop overthinking your joke. you could see his mind go haywire and it actually made your heart ache a little, because you didn’t want the poor boy to get upset.

“don’t worry, i wouldn’t mind anyway. i’ll wait for a text from you then, yeah?” you asked with a smile and minho could only nod, too shocked to comprehend the entire situation. you waved at him and walked away, leaving minho with a pounding heart and burning cheeks.

you flirting with him was something he didn’t even dare to think would happen, but he kind of hoped it could lead to something more. it became like a side quest for him and minho was more than happy to devote himself to it if the winning prize would be your heart.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh @xichien @linospuddin

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids lee know #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know headcanons

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sailortongue · 2 years

Text

You Callin' Me a Liar?

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie tells the boys that he has a girlfriend, but they don't believe him. eddie vows to make them eat their words

wc: 2.5k

part 2

——————

“No can do, boys. I’m driving my girlfriend home today.” The freshmen had barely gotten the question out when Eddie shot them down.

“Girlfriend?!” exclaimed Dustin. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?!” To say he was shocked was an understatement. His eyebrows shot all the way up to his hairline and his jaw might as well have been on the floor.

“Dude, if you don’t want to drive us then just say that,” said Mike.

Eddie looked at the boy incredulously. “You callin me a liar, Wheeler?”

“I mean, not in those words…” Mike quickly looked down, uncomfortable with the glare that Eddie was directing at him. The dungeon master was usually pretty chill, but god he could be intimidating.

Eddie scowled before staring at the other two boys, “And what about you two? You don’t believe me either?” The look on Dustin’s face was answer enough, as was Lucas’ awkward smile. “Just you three wait. I have the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins High and I’m gonna prove it.”

“Yeah, right,” started Mike before looking over at Dustin and Lucas. “Next thing we know he’ll be telling us his ‘girlfriend’ is a cheerleader, too.”

“As a matter of fact, she is,” huffed Eddie. If he was being honest with himself, it kind of stung how none of the boys believed he was capable of being in a relationship.

“Whatever you say, Eddie,” said Dustin placatingly, obviously still believing Eddie to be lying so he didn’t have to drive them home.

“Y’know what, I’m gonna bring her to Hellfire this week and all of you will eat your words.”

——————

Hellfire wasn’t for another two days and Eddie was becoming more and more short tempered at constantly being the butt of the joke at the table. Not a single one of his friends believed him. This is what he gets for not wanting the relationship to be public. He’d been so worried about how the rest of the squad would treat you if they knew, but he didn’t even consider how his friends would react, especially without proof.

“So, Eddie, which one is it? It can’t be Chrissy since she’s dating Jason, and Kelly is with that Daniel guy. Is it Lisa?” teased Gareth. After that, the rest of the guys started taking turns poking fun at him, trying to guess the cheerleader that Eddie was supposedly dating.

“No.”

“Jennifer?”

“No.”

“Beth?”

“No.”

“Yn?”

Your name obviously caught Eddie’s attention, the rest of the table erupting into a cacophony of shouts and laughter that couldn't be distinguished from one another.

Jeff’s voice cut through the noise, still laughing, “Dude, there’s no way you got a girl like Yn Y/l/n to go out with you. She’s, like, the golden girl of Hawkins High. It’s been a fun joke, but I can’t even entertain it anymore.” His broad smile was a harsh contrast to his words. Jeff didn’t realize it, but Eddie was both offended and hurt by his words.

You were at your usual table with the rest of the squad when you saw your beloved boyfriend storm out of the cafeteria. A frown tugged at your lips, wondering what had upset him so much. You waited a few minutes before excusing yourself from the conversation to go after Eddie, knowing exactly where you would find him.

He was already at the picnic table when you arrived. He had his head in his hands and his back to you. “Eddie?” you called out. He lifted his head and turned to you. “Yeah?” he croaked.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You approached the table and sat next to him, pulling his head into your lap. He sighed, “It’s the guys. They think I’m lying about you.” He was full on pouting now. You knew he was upset but damn he was cute when he did that.

You gazed down at him and smiled, running your fingers through his hair, “So what? At the end of the day I’m still your girlfriend, whether they believe it or not.” Your words finally got a smile back on his face as he sat up and pulled you next to him, pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss before pulling back. “Thanks, sweetheart. You still comin’ to Hellfire this week?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said with a cheeky grin. “Can’t let the party think their dungeon master is a liar, now can I?”

“Oh, but of course not. My honor will be restored and the princess of Hellfire will put her subjects in their place.”

“Princess of Hellfire? Eddie, they’ve never even met me,” you chuckled, Eddie joining you. His theatrics had always been a source of laughter for you and oh how Eddie loved the sound. When the laughter died down the two of you were left in a comfortable silence until Eddie checked his watch and hissed. “What is it?” you asked.

“Lunch ended 10 minutes ago.”

——————

One day to the Hellfire meeting and the club was still not dropping the subject. The three freshmen had finally told the others that Eddie planned to bring you this week, and they were determined to hold him to it. Not that he had any intention of backing out.

“So, Eddie, why don’t you tell us about her? Since y’all are dating you should know all about her, right?” Lucas was being a bitch and the whole table knew it was intentional. He was trying to get under Eddie’s skin and it was working. “So, how did you meet?”

Eddie remained silent, opting to ignore the nosy question in favor of eating his lunch.

“Oh, c’mon, man. Just answer the question,” chimed Gareth.

Eddie huffed, practically throwing his fork onto his plate. “We met at a music store. She was looking for some Ozzy and I helped her out. Got to talking about music and we hit it off. Turns out we listen to a lot of the same stuff.”

“You really expect us to believe a prep listens to the same kind of music you do? You sure you didn’t dream this?” said Lucas skeptically, his expression one of total disbelief. The rest of the guys murmured in agreement.

“First Wheeler and now you’re callin’ me a liar, too?”

“Look, man, no one’s calling you a liar right now,” objected Dustin. “ We’re gonna wait to see if she shows up to Hellfire.” He glanced around the table at each of the club members, “Right, guys?” There was a chorus of half-hearted acceptance. Not wanting to go too far and piss off Eddie even more, the subject switched over to complaining about classes and teachers and annoying classmates.

——————

Today was the day. You were finally going to join Eddie in one of his Hellfire meetings. You were nervous about making a good impression. You knew how important the group was to him and you were terrified that they wouldn’t like you. He’d nearly laughed at your concern when you brought it up during one of his late night visits, but was quick to reassure you when he realized you were serious.

“Sweetheart, you are the most amazing person I know. You’re sweet and talented and you have great taste in music,” he comforted, voice taking on an airy quality as he leaned in closer to you, lips brushing but not quite connecting. “And we can’t forget how you look in that cheer uniform, especially that little skirt.” He’d laughed against your lips before finally melding his lips to yours. The lazy kiss quickly turned heated as he dragged his hand down your side to grip your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He withdrew to leave a trail of kisses down the column of your throat before finding the spot he was looking for; the spot that made you gasp out his name so prettily.

He brought his sinful mouth up to your ear, biting and sucking all the way back up your neck and nipping your earlobe before whispering, “You couldn’t be any more perfect unless you were God himself.” He placed one more chaste kiss against your lips before resting his forehead on yours. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” That night, you fell asleep with Eddie’s arms wrapped around you. He was gone when you woke up, of course. If either of your parents saw you sleeping with a boy in your bed, they would have blown a fuse.

The school day was dragging and your nerves were making it worse. Despite Eddie’s reassurance, you still had your doubts. By the time lunch rolled around you were practically shaking with anxiety, so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Chrissy calling your name.

“Yn!” she said loudly, finally gaining your attention.

Your head jerked up in her direction, “Yeah?”

Chrissy laughed at your distractedness, “Just wanted to let you know we’re practicing a new routine today. What’s got you so distracted?” You didn’t answer and she gasped dramatically. She leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially “Is it a boy?!” You blanched. “I knew it!” she squealed, delighted that her best friend was finally showing interest in someone. “You have to tell me all about him!”

“Okok, but not here.” Eddie had been adamant about being hush hush with your relationship. He was so worried that you would be ridiculed just for dating him, and he didn’t want to see you go through the same torment he did. But Chrissy was your closest friend and there was no doubt in your mind that she would be over the moon for you as well as keep your secret. You got up from the table, Chrissy following suit, and led her to the girl’s locker room in the gym, which was thankfully empty.

Chrissy was immediately bombarding you with questions, too excited to wait for you to answer before asking another one. “So, what’s his name? What’s he like? Oh! Is he on the basketball team? I could get Jason to help set you up!”

You waved your hands in front of you, quickly denying her offer. “He’s not on the basketball team. He’s not on any team, actually.”

“No? Well, who is it then? C’mon, the suspense is killing me! Best friends are supposed to know everything, and you’ve been holding out on me!”

“Alright!” you wheezed out in between your laughter. “It’s Eddie…”

“Eddie Munson?” she said, stunned. You nodded in affirmation. She seemed to roll the idea around in her head before seemingly making up her mind, exclaiming, “You two would be so cute together! Have you talked to him?”

“Chrissy, we’re already dating,” you informed flatly.

“Oh my God, Yn, how could you not tell me?!” she whined. “You have to tell me everything, now.” She crossed her arms and tried to school her face into as stern an expression as she could.

“We met at a music store. I was looking for an Ozzy Osbourne cassette but I couldn't find one. Eddie was there and helped me out. We talked for a while about music and it just kinda went from there.”

“Aw, that’s so cute! We should totally do a double date!”

You looked at her like she had grown a second head. “A double date? With Jason and Eddie?” It dawned on Chrissy that there was a serious flaw in her plan: your respective boyfriends hated each other.

She let out a loud laugh and looked at you, smiling. “Wouldn’t that be something? Pretty far fetched, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding. They’d be at each other’s throats the whole time.”

You and Chrissy spent the remainder of lunch talking in the locker room and telling her all about your plans with Eddie later. It was relieving to finally be able to tell her about him.

Meanwhile, Eddie was bragging up a storm at his lunch table. He couldn’t wait for the guys to meet you and especially couldn't wait to prove them wrong.

“Eddie, if you say one more word about her, you’re gonna be one party member short tonight, whether she’s coming or not,” warned Lucas. Eddie held his hands up in surrender.

“I still don’t think there’s any possible way you got with a girl like Yn,” said Jeff around a mouthful of food.

“Just you wait until tonight. You’ll all eat your words.”

——————

Hellfire had started 30 minutes ago and you were still nowhere to be seen. The guys were throwing him pitiful glances and whispering amongst themselves. They still hadn’t started the session, and it was clear that Eddie was on pins and needles waiting for your arrival.

Dustin was the first of the boys to give him the benefit of the doubt, “Hey, man, maybe she’s just running late? The cheerleaders practice after school, so she’s probably still in the gym.”

The others weren’t convinced, but it was enough to satisfy Eddie, who was no stranger to how hard you worked for the squad. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. So, what do you say, gentlemen? Ready to fight some monsters?”

——————

That new cheer routine turned out to be much harder than anyone was anticipating, and practice ran for much longer than it typically did. You were supposed to be at Hellfire 45 minutes ago. You didn’t bother to change out of your cheer uniform, rushing out of the gym doors, hoping that yelling bye on the way out was good enough. You ran through the corridors to the drama room, barging in without so much as knocking. “Eddie, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to be late but cheer practice ran overtime-”

“See, Eddie, I was right! Cheer practice!” interrupted a boy who could be no older than maybe 15 or 16. Eddie wasted no time introducing you, “Guys, I want you to meet my lovely girlfriend, Yn. Yn, this is the sorry bunch of freaks I play DnD with every week.”

You gave a small wave to the group. “Sorry I didn’t knock. Was in a bit of a rush,” you chuckled awkwardly, growing increasingly embarrassed by the open-mouthed stares of the boys. They recovered quickly when Eddie cleared his throat a little too aggressively to be genuine. Within seconds the room was filled with questions being directed at both you and Eddie, not that Eddie was answering any of them. He was too busy admiring you in your uniform.

He continued to ignore his club in favor of looking at you. When you finally turned your gaze back to him, he pushed his chair away from the table, an obvious indication of what he wanted. Without any hesitation, you made your way over and plopped yourself into your boyfriend’s lap, not caring about the club still being present. Eddie instantly wrapped his arms around your waist from behind to secure you as he nuzzled his face in your neck. You giggled at his actions before addressing the other boys, “I think you all owe Eddie an apology.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader

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a-small-safe-place · 5 months

Text

Then, Nothing.

Yandere Cullen family

A/N: Renesmee is a platonic yandere. The rest of the Cullens are romantic yanderes for you, but it is mostly centered on Bella and Edward right now.

You met Renesmee in a park. You were babysitting a child for a family, and she happened to approach you. This child looked too grown to be the age she said but also looked too young to be anything older, and something about her was off-putting in an uncanny valley way. However, something compelled you to engage with her. She said she did not want to play with any of the other children. Renesmee said they were too ingenuous. That seemed like too big of a word for such a little girl. She talked your ear off, though. She said she does not "talk" much at home, and that it is easier just to be not verbal. That worried you; was this child being abused and forced to stay silent at home? Who even were her parents?

As if on cue, a very beautiful man and woman approached. They looked too young to be the girl’s parents, but also too similar to her to not be her parents. They were also more inhuman in appearance than Renesemee. The mom, Bella, was more welcoming than Renesmee’s father, Edward, who chose to remain standoffish.

Bella smiled and told you, “Renesmee doesn’t usually talk to people besides her family; you must be special.” Her tone sounded as if she had been flirting with you. You chose to ignore it. Maybe just because she was so inhumanly beautiful made it seem like she was flirting. “I don’t know about how special I am, but your daughter is certainly unique; she seems so bright for her age.”

Edward finally spoke up, but in a flat and uninterested tone, “she is; we are very proud.” An awkward silence settled over the area. Thankfully, the child you had been babysitting came up ready to go home.

You began to see them more and more around town. It seemed as if Renesmee could sniff you out in a second if she happened to be in the same area as you. You were relieved that you did not live in the area and lived in a part of town that was in a much lower tax bracket. If you did live in the area, it would not be surprising if Bella, Renesemee, or even Edward showed up at your doorstep. Edward was the most normal out of the three. Bella’s behavior was nice, but something about it felt awkward with a sinister undertone. If she looked different, it would seem more sincere, but something about all three of them made you want to run away as fast as you could despite their beauty. A driver for the family that you babysat for had seen them when picking up you and the child and joked that Bella and Edward were probably related given that they looked similar. He loved to gossip and asked you a million questions about them. You shuddered at the idea. That could explain why their daughter was so peculiar, but wouldn’t incest result in more physical deformities and not just strange behavior from a child? Even if they were related, they did not seem to be that close, definitely not siblings. Everything about them seemed the same but also different.

You tried your best not to think too much about it, but it got to the point where you would see at least one of them anytime you were out on that side of town. You were fine trying to avoid them; each time your excuse was along the lines of “oh they need this kiddo back home!” or some other similar response. That is until you ended up getting fired. The mom refused to say why, and she reacted in disgust when she saw you. Before this, both of the parents enjoyed having you as their sitter. It was a harsh dismissal. You decided to stop by the grocery store before going home. You needed something, anything, to make you feel better about your loss of work, and with the influence your last family had in the community, it was clear you would not be babysitting for a while. Or so you thought.

“Hello,” Edward’s voice sounded from behind you. He did not seem happy to be there. “Sorry,” You mumbled, scooting out of the way, assuming you were in front of something he needed. “I have a job for you,” He said cryptically. You turned around to face him feeling confused. Edward continued to talk. “It will pay well. I know you take care of children, and I wanted to take Bella somewhere on a date, and we do not have a sitter for Renesmee, and she has warmed up to you.”

“You want me to babysit?” You asked somewhat dumbly causing him to smile a bit and chuckle. “Yes, she has warmed up to you, and Bella thinks you are trustworthy. The only catch is that you have to care for her at our home. You may not leave when you are watching her, even if you have an emergency.” You weren't a fan of that stipulation, but you figured they would allow you to call them to come back in a dire situation.

“Okay, fine. When do I need to be there, and is this going to be a regular thing?” You asked. He seemed a little irritated that you're asking these questions. “Tonight. You will start now. It will be a regular job. You can follow me out to our house.”

You arrived at his and Bella’s home. It looked like it was designed by the best architect. Renesmee greeted you outside. “You're here! We are going to have so much fun! Come one! Come meet my family.” As she is dragging you in, Edward is driving away. He did not even mention when they will be back or how much you were getting paid exactly. He was probably making sure you would not take the money and leave. There are people inside. Four people, two guys, and two girls sit on the couch and sofa. You hear a few people in the kitchen. “These are my aunts and uncles! That's Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie; they are married, and then Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper; they are married too. My Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle are in the kitchen. Grandma wanted to make dinner for you… I mean us.” Two of them smile at you, the two dark-haired ones. The two blondes look mad and somewhat disgusted. This is weird. You have never babysat with people around. Why could the family not watch Renesmee? She seemed to like them just as much as you. Renesmee pulls you into the kitchen. Her grip is surprising for a little girl. A blonde man and a woman with caramel-colored hair are cooking. They look far too young to be a grandma and grandpa. Something about all of these people seems so familiar. As if you have seen them before. Not just on the rich side of town but on the poor side of town too, in your neighborhood. They both introduce themselves and clearly know your name as they greet you. “Are you hungry?” Esme asks, handing you a plate of food. It smells divine, but this has to be a trap. Most families prefer you not to eat a bunch on the job.

Renesmee grabs a plate and begins to eat. “It's so good! Grandma worked hard on it! You have to try it!” It is impossible to say no to her for some reason. You take a plate and take a few bites. It tastes wrong. There are hints of good flavor, but it is heavily covered up by the taste of medicine. The gravity of the situation hits you. “I need to excuse myself; I need a bathroom break.” The shakiness in your voice is clear. You pretend to go to the restroom, but book it to the door when you're out of sight. You see your keys are missing; even your phone has disappeared from your pocket. You step outside only to see your car missing. Suddenly you're grabbed from behind. This person is very strong but knows how to hold someone down without injuring them. You're stuck with a needle. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but each time you've seen these freaks in public flashes in your mind as your vision spins. A wave of calm lays over you. It is unwelcome because it feels unnatural, but it is too comforting for you to care as your vision goes in and out. You see some flashes of memories that do not belong to you. They are from a lower angle, so it has to be from Renesmee's mind. It is Carlisle assuring her that you are going to be safe because they all love you as much as she does.

Then, nothing. You're out like a light.

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talaok · 1 year

Text

Only yours

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer's jealous but you reassure him

warnings:none just fluff

"hey there," Derek said, walking towards you "how are you doing sweetheart?"

you were drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen when you heard his voice.

"Hey there darling" you grinned "I'm fine, how are you?"

"Better now that I've seen you" he smirked, making you roll your eyes jokingly.

Fake flirting with Derek was always fun, it was a fundamental part of your friendship, and plus, you just loved seeing the confusion on people's faces when they found out he wasn't your boyfriend, but Spencer.

You had dialed it down since you got into the relationship, Derek never dared to do it when Reid was close, he felt it was disrespectful or something, and you had agreed, even if you didn't really understand the problem.

It was all fake, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

"I was looking all over for you," he said "you had me worried baby girl" he had that low voice he used when picking up girls, and you couldn't help but smile.

"oh, I'm sorry baby" you put a hand on his bicep "I'll text you next time I have to get coffee" he grinned "I promise" you pouted.

"you better" he raised his eyebrows "and I'm gonna come get it for you" he added "no need for a pretty lady like you to have to get up when I'm around" he tilted his head.

"What a gentleman" you joked, "and here I was thinking chivalry was dead"

"not to me it isn't" he smirked, and you laughed softly.

"so why were you looking for me?" you asked, taking a sip from your mug.

"I just wanted to see this pretty face," he said, putting a lock of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear.

"of course" You smiled "and?"

He gave up, now smiling too "and I also needed you to have a look at these files," he said, holding up a folder.

"yep, that's more like it" you nodded, before furrowing your browns like you were suspicious "though, are we sure that's not just an excuse to be close to me?"

He laughed softly "oh, I don't need an excuse to do that sweetheart," he said with the most exaggerated flirty voice you'd ever heard and you couldn't help but laugh, a bit too loudly maybe.

"hey "

You didn't even notice that Spencer had walked up to you before you heard his voice coming from your left.

"oh hey baby" you smiled

"hey spencer" Derek nodded at him

"so what were you laughing about?" he forced a smile, as he put his hand on your back.

"Oh you know, just Derek being silly" you waved him off.

"Yes" Derek agreed "you know me, man," he said, immediately regretting it "anyway" he cleared his throat "I'll just leave these on your desk" he raised the folder again.

"perfect"

"All right" he chuckled awkwardly "back to work," he said, before walking back to his desk.

As soon as Derek turned away Spencer pulled you in for a kiss, which was weird, considering how he didn’t like being affectionate at work.

You melted into his touch as he put his hands on each side of your waist, and you had to sit your mug on the counter to not make a mess.

You smiled as he leaned away "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"nothing" he pecked your lips again "you're just very beautiful" and again "I just thought I should tell you"

You laughed softly "You already told me this morning"

"w-well I wanted to tell you again" he blushed.

You bit down a smirk "alright"

"so" he cleared his throat "what were you and Derek talking about?"

You frowned "why?"

"You-" he gulped "you just seemed very amused"

"I was" you shrugged

"y-yeah but like why?"

You gasped, as your eyes widened in realization "Doctor Spencer Reid" you said, "are you- jealous?"

He was now blushing even more.

"no, I'm not I just-"

"do not lie to me, Spence"

He sighed, avoiding your eyes "fine" he admitted "I was, a little"

"baby" you placed your fingers on his chin, making him look at you "you have nothing to worry about," you reassured him "I love you Spence" you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him briefly "you know that"

His lips twitched into a shy smile but you could still see some uncertainty in his eyes "I do know that" he said "but it's not you I'm worried about"

You laughed "what, Derek?" you asked, incredulous, "baby he jokes, he doesn't mean the things he says"

"That's what you think," he said "you don't see how he looks at you" he explained "or how diffrent he is with you"

"Spence" you sighed "he's a friend"

"but maybe that's not all he wants to be"

You rested your head on his chest in exasperation before looking up again "even if you're right Spence" you murmured "it doesn't matter" you smiled "Because I'm with you" you jokingly booped his nose with your finger "and that's how I want it to stay"

"I'm yours, Spencer"

"only yours"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #i love you tumblr pls let the tags work

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m-yg93 · 11 months

Text

Solace

Pairing: KNJ x Reader

WC: 13.5k

Genre: Roommates2L

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV

Banner by @sugarwithtea

Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed and Sara (twitter link)

Summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now!

Part of the Room For Rent collab

There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.

Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.

“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”

Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?

“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”

Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.

“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.

“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”

There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?

“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.

Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.

“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”

“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”

“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.

Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.

“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.

“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”

They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.

Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.

“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.

They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.

The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.

“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.

“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.

“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.

“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.

Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.

Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.

“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.

The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.

They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.

“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.

“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.

“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.

Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.

“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!

“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.

“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.

“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.

You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.

Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.

“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.

“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.

He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.

He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.

Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!

“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.

Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.

“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.

“Everything good here?” you ask.

Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.

“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”

“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.

Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.

The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.

The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.

Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.

His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.

Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.

He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.

The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.

The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.

The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.

“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”

“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.

Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.

“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”

“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.

“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.

He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.

He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.

You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.

There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”

You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.

The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.

“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”

“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”

His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.

Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.

He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.

The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.

The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-

“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.

He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.

“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.

“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.

“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.

“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.

“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.

“I take care of myself, I guess.”

“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”

He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.

He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.

“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”

“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.

“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”

“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.

“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”

“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.

The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.

There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.

His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.

He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.

You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.

“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.

“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.

He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”

“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”

You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.

“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.

Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.

There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.

He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.

There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.

He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.

He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.

The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.

He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.

There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.

He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.

He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.

The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.

“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.

He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.

“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.

“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.

“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.

He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.

He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.

“Are you hiding under the blanket?”

No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.

“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.

“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.

You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn��t work. And-”

Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.

Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.

“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”

“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”

You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.

“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.

“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”

“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.

“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.

“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I’ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.

“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”

“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.

“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”

“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.

“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.

There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.

“Do you have enough space?” you ask.

If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”

You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.

“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.

He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”

“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”

“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”

“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”

“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.

“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”

Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.

“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”

“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.

“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.

The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.

“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”

“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”

“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.

“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.

Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.

It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.

“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”

“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.

“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.

He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.

“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.

He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.

You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.

No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!

He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.

Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.

He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.

He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.

“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.

“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.

“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”

For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.

The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.

“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.

He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.

You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.

Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.

You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.

He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.

“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”

“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.

He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.

“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.

“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.

“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”

In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.

Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.

“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.

“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.

“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”

He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.

“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.

“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.

“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.

He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.

He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.

Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.

“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.

He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.

Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.

You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.

He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.

It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.

You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.

You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.

“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You’re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.

You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.

“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.

Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.

The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.

“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.

“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”

His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.

“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.

You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.

His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.

“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”

His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.

You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.

The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.

He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.

He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.

His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.

“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.

The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.

The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.

Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.

He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.

“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.

It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.

You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.

Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”

If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.

His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.

“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.

“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”

“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.

“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”

If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”

He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”

He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”

He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.

“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.

It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.

You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.

It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.

“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.

You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”

“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.

“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”

There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.

He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”

You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.

His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.

The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.

Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.

You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.

But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.

He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.

The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.

“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.

“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.

#kim namjoon fic #namjoon fic #knj fic #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #rm fic #rm fanfic #rm x reader #rm x you #bts fic #bts fanfic #rm smut #bts smut

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moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

I can’t believe I’ve never read this but Sirius getting a tattoo of your name and you and EVERYONE is like ! And James is probs jelly heheheh

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 802 words

“Well, the font at least sort of covers the misspelling,” you say, peering at the skin just to the left of Sirius’ back dimple.

Remus hums his agreement. “Yeah, I sort of messed up in the middle there, so I switched to cursive to make it less noticeable.”

“What?” Sirius twists around to try and see.

“Joking, joking.” You smile up at him as he makes a sound somewhere between relief and offense, holding him still by his hip and not at all minding the excuse to do so. “It looks good, Siri. I just wish you’d told me you were getting it, I would have surprised you with the same.”

Your boyfriend’s pursed lips relax into a familiar grin. “Yeah, sweetness?” Remus groans, finding something else to look at away from the two of you. “You mean it?”

“Nope,” you say bluntly, using your grip to tug him back down beside you on the couch. “Sorry, Rem, you’re never getting near me with that needle.”

Remus huffs a laugh. “No pressure here.”

“But baby,” Sirius croons, though it’s really more of a whine, “it’d be so hot. You could get it in the same spot too, so we’d match.”

“You two already match plenty,” James decrees, coming in the door sweaty and covered in dirt from training. “Outfits and nail colors are enough.”

“Envious green doesn’t suit you, Prongs,” Sirius replies. He leans his head back so he can give his friend a disdainful look over the top of the couch, hair flopping away from his eyes. “Y/n loves when we match, don’t you gorgeous?”

It’s a struggle not to let your eyes flit down to your star print socks, twin to the ones covered by Sirius’ boots. You give your best impression of insouciance in your shrug.

“She’s a hostage to your schemes.” James tosses his bag to the floor, perching on the coffee table lest Remus get after him for getting dirt on the couch again. “What are you trying to coerce her into now?”

“He wants her to get a tattoo of his name like he’s gotten of hers,” Remus answers, the tiny quirk of his eyebrow at James conveying his disapproval of this plan.

James’ eyes widen behind his glasses. “You got a tattoo of her name?”

“Yeah.” Sirius grins proudly, already turning and pulling down his waistband. “Wanna see?”

“Does he always take his pants off when you’re all home together?” you ask Remus. “Is this something I should be worried about?”

“He’ll take his pants off at any opportunity,” he replies. “You knew what you were getting into with him.”

“I guess I did.”

“Fucking what?” James’ gaze jumps from Sirius’ hip to his face, betrayal in his big brown eyes. “That’s my spot. You’ve given her my spot!”

You feel your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“We agreed,” James says, and though his outrage doesn’t seem meant for you, you’re a tad intimidated regardless, “that I would get to choose the tattoo that went on his lower back. Pads, you swore an oath of brotherhood!”

“I was fifteen,” Sirius protests, mouth agape, “and drunk! I hardly remember what I agreed to!”

“Moony was witness.” James gives Remus an expectant look, mouth a hard line.

Remus sighs like he’d really rather not be a part of this, but he knows better than to argue. “You did say that,” he tells Sirius, then turns to James. “Though it was a long time ago, and I’d like to have it on record that I didn’t recall it when I agreed to do the tattoo.”

“Ah ha!” James points at Sirius accusingly. Sirius slaps his finger away with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve conspired against me.”

“Why,” you ask James, “did you want to choose a tattoo for his lower back specifically?”

James scoffs as though this should be obvious. “Because that’s the claiming spot. As he clearly knows.” He crosses his arms, glaring indignantly at your boyfriend.

You shrug. “Well, he has two hips. You could always have the other one.”

Now it's Sirius’ brow which furrows. “I’m not sure I appreciate my skin being auctioned off like this.”

“Nobody’s auctioning you off, honey,” you placate him, rubbing his shoulder. Predictably, he softens under your touch, leaning against your side. You give his bicep a little squeeze. “For it to be an auction, we’d have to be exchanging money. This is for free.”

Remus chuckles, and Sirius elbows your side meanly, but he’s smiling. James ignores them both, uncrossing his arms to lean his elbows on his thighs and looking at you with interest.

“I could get behind that,” he muses. “You’d be willing to share him like that, though?”

You roll your eyes as you smile. “I knew what I was getting into with him.”

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heeseungwifey · 5 months

Text

Does Layla need a mom?

pairing: jake x y/n

warning: contains smut!

It’s a chilly night so I’ve decided to go for some thighs with my mini skirt. I wish I could just ignore the cold for my Tinder date tonight but I should put my health first. I’m meeting a new guy called Jake, by his profile I know he’s 21, has gorgeous lips and a dog. That’s all I’m looking for in a man these days, someone I can have fun with.

I order an Uber and go down the stairs, already kinda late for the reservation at the fancy Italian restaurant where we’re having our date. He made the reservation a week ago, he swears it’s the best food I’ll try in town. I get in the Uber and send him a message.

“Sorry, I'll be a few minutes late, traffic!” I sent it as the Uber driver was waiting on a red light.

“No worries, I’m already here. I hope you do show up and not leave me stranded haha” Jake sends a smiley emoji and I get he’s nervous about this date too. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, friendly but also quite flirty, some texts getting borderline sexting. I’ve been trying not to overthink about how this night could end, but the thought of getting into this man’s bed has kept me zoning out since he asked me out.

“Here it is lady, have a good night!” I get out of the car and thank the Uber driver, getting into the restaurant as fast as I can so I don’t ruin my hair in the rain. when I walk in, I scan the room to look for Jake, quickly spotting him at the end of the restaurant. He’s wearing a leather jacket, his hair pushed back and a neck chain, looking so good I almost got embarrassed to approach him. It would have been too late to escape since he already saw me, getting up and shaking his hand in the air so I could see him.

“Hello! Wow you look gorgeous y/n” Jake kisses me on the cheek and I get to smell his perfume, manly and sexy. I sit down and take a sweet time to appreciate how he looks, admire his tan skin, his big nose, his beautiful smile and his hands, wishing that those would be touching me in a couple of hours. He’s doing the same as me, scanning me from head to toe with a sultry stare.

“You look really good too Jake, I’m kind of surprised you’re just not wearing basketball shorts or a striped shirt” I joke since in all his pictures on Instagram he’s wearing one of these two clothing pieces, even both of the same time sometimes. He looks ridiculously gorgeous tonight.

“Well I have to show off for tonight, need to make a good impression”

“Sure you are”

Dinner was fantastic, everything was delicious and we talked all the time we were sitting there as if we had known each other since forever. Jake had come with his car so he offered to take me home. I felt uncomfortable asking to go to his house even though I really wanted to, so I made an excuse to be with him for a little bit more.

“I know a cool bar right around here, would you like to go? Let’s not end the date just yet” I looked up on Google Maps a bar next to his house just to hang out there for a bit, have a drink and see where the night took us. The next thing I know is that each of us has drunk at least 3 cocktails and it’s almost 2 a.m.

“My house is quite close to this bar, if you want to crash, I know I said I would take you home but I don’t think I can drive right now, a uber right now is gonna be impossible to find” Jake has his arm around my shoulders, his hair messy and he had to take his jacket off because of how hot he was. His house is a 15-minute walk away, which helps us get refreshed as we get to his door.

“Here we are, welcome to my house!” Jake opens the door and a modern and minimalist decor fills my sight. it’s obvious it’s a single man’s house by the posters and figurines he has but it’s done with good taste, giving a personal touch.

“Omg is this Layla? you’re so pretty and fluffy!” Jake’s dog approaches me right as I walk in, excitedly shaking her tail and giving little jumps. He has previously talked about her dog at the restaurant, showing me pictures of her as a puppy and all.

“She seems to like you, I don’t often see her this excited” Jake closes the door and takes his jacket off, hanging it on the entrance coat rack. He gets behind me and grabs my bag and my coat, hanging it as well.

“It’s kinda crazy that I’m staying at your house, I don’t know what you’re gonna think of me” I say as a joke but deep down I do want to give him a good impression and as much as I would love to rip his clothes off right now,

“It's kind of stupid If I thought anything bad about you y/n. I hope you know I’m very excited that you’re here right now. Just knowing we get to be a few more minutes together is already giving me a rush”

I look at him and he’s standing there, looking so handsome in this light, the air feeling heavy. I move to the sofa, sitting there first as he follows me around inside his own house. He turns on the TV and we’re sitting there like dummies, watching whatever is on. I am nervous, the expectation growing more and more each second.

“what the hell are we doing?” Jake says as he’s getting closer to me, facing me as I’m resting my back on the couch. When he’s just inches away from my lips, Layla jumps on the sofa, right in between us.

“Layla! you scared me, fuck” Jake moves to the other side of the sofa, being attacked by Layla’s kisses. I laugh from the other side, the view so endearing I almost forgot he’s just a Tinder date and this will end soon.

“Do you want me to lend you some clothes to sleep in? A T-shirt and some shorts perhaps?” Jake is standing right in front of me, waiting for my answer, looking for an excuse to get out of Layla’s insistence.

“yes, thank you! where’s the bathroom by the way? I need to take my make-up off” I get up fast as he walks to his bedroom to pick up the clothes.

“It’s here, hold on… let me give you the clothes so you can change. I also have make-up remover in the cabinet” Jake rumbles around his closet and comes back with a white t-shirt with a logo on it and some Nike shorts, handing them to me.

When I finished changing and getting my make-up off I glanced at myself in the mirror. I look so bare in this look, just how I would look at the solitude of my own house. It’s kinda crazy that this is how I choose to show myself in front of my date, who I have known for just a few hours. I guess Jake has something that just makes me blindly trust him.

As I’m coming out of the bathroom I hear the TV, the volume turned down so it’s low. When I walk into the living room, Jake is lying on the couch with a tight t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla lies right next to him, looking adorable with her fluffy fur. He looks a bit sleepy but as I walk into his sight, he opens his eyes and gets up.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? I don’t sleep too much so I always stay up late watching TV. Right now there’s this 50’s romantic movie, I don’t know if you would like it” Jake looks at me as I’m standing there, his eyes trying not to look at my nipples, visible through the t-shirt he gave me. I’m also quite careful not to get caught looking at his bulge, way too noticeable in those sweats.

“I don’t care really, it’s just background noise to me” I say as I’m sitting next to him, he grabs my hands and pulls me in between his legs. His big hands hold mine as he looks at me in the eyes, the TV light illuminating his face in a beautiful blue. He looks mesmerizing, so much so that I can’t hold myself any longer and I kiss him. His sweet, plump lips capture mine with the same intensity as mine, gasping for air every time we separate.

Jake grabs the back of my thighs and sits me on his lap, his hands groping my ass and massaging it. I feel an overwhelming heat on my cheeks, all the pent-up neediness flowing out from us. He wanted this as much as I did. It’s surreal a man like this would want me so bad.

“Baby, let’s go to the bedroom” Jake says in between kisses as he picks me up from his lap and takes me to his bedroom. I’m not thinking about anything else right now but his lips, his hands and the burning pain I’m feeling in my groin, growing worse each second I feel no relief.

When we get to the bedroom, Jake throws me onto the bed, closing the door behind him. The bedroom is nicely decorated, filled with blue and wood. Seeing the details of how he chooses to decorate his house gives me more knowledge about him, filling in the gaps of the missing info I have about him. As I’m laying there, he moves swiftly to the side of the bed, where he turns on a bedside lamp. Lights on tonight I guess.

“Tell me what you like baby, I’m all ears” Jake is standing right at the feet of the bed, in front of me lying in his bed. Many dirty thoughts go through my head, and I could ask for many favours. I don’t have words to describe how bothered I am by his presence, getting hornier with every second he spends waiting for me to voice my desires.

“take your t-shirt off, slowly. And then take mine” I ask, not much but just enough for now. Jake doesn’t say a word, he just follows. Grabs the hem of his t-shirt and peels it off, showing his defined abs and honey skin. His hair is messy now and his eyes are fixed on the t-shirt he lent me, planning on taking it off as soon as possible. From where he stands he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed, my feet touching the floor and sitting there like a doll. His hands are placed on my waist under the t-shirt, caressing my body as he pushes it up, arms up and for a second I get struck when I get to see his face again, both of us semi-naked and getting more and more desperate for what’s about to happen.

“Tell me, princess, what else do you want me to do?” Jake is almost touching my lips with his, the kiss from before hitting my mind and leaving me desperate for another one. I pull him by his neck onto my lips, clashing hard as we lay on the bed, him on top of me. As we are kissing, his hand snakes up to the pants that I’m wearing, pulling them slowly, leaving me completely naked. I waste no time and do the same to him, unsuccessfully though. He stops me and breaks the kiss, taking them off himself. My sight is indescribable, his naked body bathed by the warm light of the lamp and desire burning in his eyes.

My hands travel from his shoulders to his hip bone, feeling the softness of his skin and his body heat. I touch his member, now hard and red, and Jake hisses at the feeling. I give it slow strokes, enjoying how his eyebrows stitch up and his mouth can only moan and whimper just cause of my touch. As I start going faster, he falls on his back on the bed, giving me full access to now suck him off. I get on top of him and slowly start with my tongue, tiny licks to the top and getting my saliva all around it. When it’s covered I put it all in my mouth, bottom it thanks to Jake pushing my head all the way down. He’s grabbing the back of my head, trying to regain some control over the situation but he’s very obviously gone. When he starts whining and whimpering I know he’s right there, going faster. He tries to stop me but fails miserably, cumming all in my mouth and face.

“wow, you’re going strong y/n, I don’t know if I can keep up with you” he lays there breathing heavily as I’m cleaning my face, his sight lost on the ceiling. “Well the ball’s on your court now, how are you gonna pay me for the best blowjob you’ve received in your entire life?” I say cockily as I get close to his face. His eyes look at me, foggy and lost in lust and suddenly I see a spark in them, knowing instantly he has gotten an idea on how he’s gonna pay me.

“Sit on my face, you’ve won it” Jake grabs my leg and gets it on the other side of his body, now I’m straddling his ribcage. His hands push me by my hips closer to his head, my hands grabbing the headboard so I don’t fall. I can feel Jake’s warm breath on my pussy, his plump lips just inches away from my heat. I feel his wet tongue first, circling around my clit and giving kitten licks as I’m desperately trying to not sit down on his head and choke him. When he starts using his tongue, lapping my folds with hunger I can’t control my sounds any longer and start moaning like I’m possessed. His lips feeling so good and skillfully mixing his mouth with two fingers I come fast on his face, losing all my strength and falling back onto the bed with his head still between my legs. A few minutes pass and I feel Jake getting up and moving my body by my ankles, placing me in the middle of the bed.

“Did that feel good baby? I’ve never seen anyone react like that… it was so hot I also came with you, twice tonight already. And I haven’t even been inside you yet” Jake’s hair looks messy and sexy, especially knowing it’s because of our recent activities. His lips are even plumper if possible and a layer of sweat covers his chest and abs. I sit up and touch his body instinctively, caressing his hip bone and looking at him in the eyes.

“Bend over baby” his strong arms flip me over, getting me on all fours. His eyes went straight to my drenched and pulsating pussy, placing himself right on my entrance. “Mhmm, it felt so good Jake…fuck I can’t take it any longer, please… just fuck me already”

He moves slowly, for a second unsure if he should be doing this, but when he stretches me so good that I moan loudly, his movements go crazy, railing me like an animal, his hair all stuck to his forehead and his eyes shut, trying to keep up with the pace. He bites his fist but is to no avail as moans just escape from his mouth, his movements going erratic and losing focus. I feel the bed move like it’s gonna break, my moans have become screams at this point and I’m lost in the feeling, my hair all over my face and sweat sticking the sheets onto my body.

“Jake, Jake, I’m going to… I can’t hold it anymore… I’m gonna…” can’t even say a whole sentence, the feeling not letting me think properly as all I feel like the heat in my tummy is gonna explode at any second.

“Do it, c’mon baby, I want to see you come on my dick, let it go…” Jake takes one of his hands to my clit, massaging it and making me come in seconds. I lose sight for a second, everything is blurry as I hear Jake moan loudly, coming inside me and falling on top of me. His head on my chest, I hug his head as we both recover our breaths, the moment feeling so intimate I can’t stop myself from giving him a kiss on the forehead.

I’m pretty sure we fell asleep like that for like fifteen minutes, hugging each other as all we had was each other’s body heat to keep warm. I wake up by the sound of scratching on the bedroom door, obviously being Leyla waiting for his owner to give her food. Jake gets up from top of me and walks to the door, closing it behind him as soon as Leyla starts jumping excitedly. I’m left there quite sad, missing how close we were just a few seconds ago.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot to put water in Leyla’s bowl before and she was quite thirsty. But hey, I just turned the water on, do you want to take a bath? It’s probably hot by now” Jake is sitting on the border of the bed, caressing my tummy as I’m still too tired to get up. I look at him and feel a sense of dreadness, I don’t wanna lose whatever we have right now between each other. Leaving his house today could mean this is over, that we’re just a one-night stand for each other and that’s it.

I take his hand and he lifts me up from the bed, lending me a bathrobe so I don’t get cold on the way to the bathroom. when we get there, there’s a few candles lighten up and the whole room smells like lavender, calming and cozy.

“Get in the bathtub, I’ll prepare some towels for when we get out” I step inside the bathtub, the warm water soothing my body from the intense workout. Jake gets into the bathtub and we’re sitting there looking at each other, just like we were at the restaurant earlier. I almost feel like crying, so I close my eyes and push my head back to rest on the wall.

“Are you good? you look super tired” Jake asks, but I don’t feel like answering right now or my voice will break. So he sits there, reaching for my hand and worried I’m actually in pain. But the pain it’s not physical, and I wish he had just let me go to my house by taxi today. I feel like shit right now, enjoying the last minutes of the most beautiful date I’ve ever been on.

“Did I do something wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?” His tone was serious and worried, his eyes fixated on my face. I open my eyes and it’s obvious that I’m on the verge of tears, my eyes watery and red.

“It’s okay, I’m just a bit tired, today has been a long day for me”

“I don’t believe you, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. You looked so happy a few minutes ago coming on my dick, and now you’re tired? Do you think I’m gonna believe that? Please tell me what’s going on”

Jake sounds mad at me, scared that now everything’s done I’m acting so cold towards him. I can’t tell him the truth, it is so embarrassing and delusional that I might scare him off.

“It’s okay Jake, I just need to go home and sleep a little bit. I had fun don’t be mistaken, but I think is time I go back to my bed and keep on going with my life” I come off as a bitch, looking for a way out of this conversation that was gonna end by me ridiculizing myself in front of the hottest man I know. If I give him the idea that I’m always up for something casual I might get to see him again.

“I don’t know what the fuck has happened for you to say this, but if you want to sleep here I have no issue with it if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought we had a great time tonight, maybe I’ve been a bit rough or you didn’t feel comfortable with me… I don’t know if you’re under the impression that I have used you to have sex but you couldn’t be more mistaken”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being the distant sound of the TV in the living room and Leyla walking around the house outside the bathroom door. I look at him and his eyes are lost, a hundred thoughts going through his head, trying to find where it went wrong tonight.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I actually hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. I guess I’m a bit sensitive since it was a bit too… intimate. Like, this is just a hookup, I shouldn’t be feeling this way about what we have done but… I wish It had meant more for the both of us”

“Listen y/n, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. I was very excited to go with you tonight since I thought we had great chemistry on our back-and-forth texts. I do feel different about you than I have felt about any other woman I have talked to on that damn app…”

I look at him and his arms are resting on each side of the bathtub, his skin glistening and a perfect view of his chest. It makes me crave for a hug in the comfort of his embrace.

“I like you more than I thought I would so early into knowing each other. I have enjoyed this night with you so much that’s gonna screw me up forever, being honest” I confess, my head turned to the wall so I don’t see his reaction to such a statement.

I don’t have to look at him, his arms grabbing mine and getting me closer to him. His lips on mine, so fierce and hungry, I’ve lost control of the situation and now I’m just being french kissed as water splashes everywhere, my legs on each side of his lap.

“Me too… I felt like a dumbass, being so intense… I don’t wanna let you go, ever” his kisses move to my neck and chest, and my hands can’t do much but hold his hair on my fist as I try not to moan too loudly at 4 a.m.

The next morning I lay there, on his bed. The sheets are everywhere, victims of our last night endeavours. A subtle smell of coffee and toasted bread comes into the bedroom, getting me up instantly and wandering to the kitchen.

There he is, early morning with wet hair from the shower and a clean black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla runs around the kitchen, excited about her breakfast just as I am. When I walk into his vision, Jake looks at me with the brightest smile and comes to hug me, kissing my head and caressing my back.

“Good morning baby, did you rest well?” his warmth irradiating through his t-shirt and feeling incredibly comforting.

“Yeah I did, I haven’t slept this well in a long time” I snuggle on his chest, his arms reaching for the frypan and moving it aside, so the scrambled eggs don’t burn.

When we’re done with the breakfast, a long silence between us arises. It’s comfortable but at the same time, it scares me that it'll make us talk about our feelings. Thankfully Layla jumps on my lap, wanting to play with me. If this ends I’m also gonna miss her and I just met her.

“Damn, Layla has never acted like this with anyone before, it’s crazy… She likes you a lot. It's just like she has accepted you’re her mom or something haha” Jake says, fascinated by how his dog is acting towards a total stranger to her, like she has known me since forever.

“So… does Layla need a mom?”

“Yeah, her dad needs a mom too” Jake looks at me and we start laughing, filling the house with the sound of our laughter, the smell of toast and a happy Layla, who gets to have a mom from that day on.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #jake smut

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greatooglymooglyyy · 26 days

Text

The Last Ride Chapter Six (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

series masterlist

contains: angst, mentions of parental death, parental abandonment, fluff, cussing, 2.8k words

“Fuck!”

I yank my fingers out from where they’ve been caught in the wooden gate, wrapping my other hand around them to try to alleviate the throbbing sensation that overtakes my every thought.

Chris tuts, running back to the truck to grab something while I blink back tears. I do not want to cry in front of him over a jammed finger, even if it hurts like a bitch. He jogs back quickly with the ice pack from our lunches that he’s wrapped in a bandana. “Let me see.”

I reluctantly place my hand in his and let him apply pressure to my fingers with the cold damp cloth, hissing when he makes contact.

We lock eyes for a second but I look away, taking the ice pack from him and pulling away. The last thing I want to do right now is give him another chance to create a meaningless moment between us.

Chris takes the hint, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “It looks like it’s gonna swell up on you. Maybe you should go find your uncle and take the day.”

I nod, examining my fingers and cautiously moving them. It strings but I doubt they’re broken. Still, any excuse to get a day off this ranch is one I’m willing to take. I start to head back towards the chickens, where I saw my uncle last when I hear Chris softly call my name.

Turning back, I give him a hard look of disdain. I can only assume the worst is to come out of his mouth. “What?”

His face drops and he shakes his head, muttering a low “never mind” before he heads back to the pickup truck. He’s actually given me a rare amount of space today after the weekend’s events, only speaking to me to give out tasks and then making himself scarce.

I watch him for a second, taking in his seemingly hurt expression. Something like sadness settles in my chest before I force myself to look away and shrug it off. I won’t allow myself to feel guilt over something that isn’t my fault.

Hopefully, he’s feeling regret after giving me yet another tragic date story to add to the books. That is if he’d even call it a date. Not that it matters. I’m here to pay off a debt, not worry about whether or not some small-town playboy is hot or cold.

*********************************************************

I wake up still a bit woozy from the pain medication that Aunt Birdie gave me when I got home. Not wanting to force myself back to sleep, I head into the living room to watch TV. I expected both of them to be sleeping by now, but Uncle Buck sits rocking gently in his chair when I enter the living room.

He looks up at me and gives me a gentle smile. “How ya feeling, darling? How’s the hand?”

I flex my fingers for him, only the slightest bit of tenderness still lingering. “I think I’ll keep it.” I joke, walking over to take the seat nearest him.

Buck laughs softly, bringing his beer can to his lips and taking a sip. He clears his throat before he speaks, trying to sound casual. “And Chris? You keepin’ him?”

I raise an eyebrow, leaning forward in surprise. “Not you too, Uncle Buck.” Birdie had tried for hours to convince me of Chris’ merits after Friday’s shit show but my uncle had kept silent. Until now.

He puts the beer down and runs a hand over his face as if he’s already exhausted of the conversation. “I don’t wanna get into young folks' business or nothin’. But I heard through the grapevine what went down.”

Rolling my eyes at the small-town rumor mill, I sit back with a sigh. “Uncle-”

“I just wanna make sure you’ve got the whole story, Y/N. That’s all. Y’all are more similar than I think y’know.”

He breathes out heavily as he starts, shaking his head like the story pains him.

“Chris’ mama and daddy were one of those old classic love stories. I mean real lovey-dovey shit, high school sweethearts, prom king and queen, write a song about it, whole nine yards. Never seen two people be in love quite like that.

They got hitched fresh out of school and had him not long after. We all thought they were seven fools for getting settled so young. But they didn’t care. They were happy as a tick on a fat dog. You’d catch ‘em round town, hand in hand with this little boy, lookin’ straight off a Hallmark card. Picture perfect for years.

But then she got sick. Somethin’ wrong with her heart. Docs say she needs this big scary surgery or she won’t see another year. But right before it’s scheduled… they find out she’s pregnant. All those years after Chris. A little girl. So she refuses the surgery. The whole town tried to talk sense to that woman but nothing worked. And his daddy… man it was like he was this shell of a person. Like he was already gone before she had a chance to get better.

So when she died giving birth and he took off a few months later, it wasn’t even a surprise to much of anybody. Something snapped inside of him and I’d bet my last dollar that wherever he is, he’s still broken.”

My heart feels like it’s straining against my chest as I listen to his story, the air seeming so thick I can’t breathe. “And Chris?”

Uncle Buck closes his eyes for a moment before he answers. “He grew up. He grew up way too fast. They moved them into their grandma’s house. Lord bless her. She was already well into her aging by then. Imagine that. Man of the house at fifteen years old. Raising a baby damn-near by yourself. I still remember the day he came knocking at my door, hat in hand, beggin’ for a job. He was just a twig of a thing then. But anybody could see he had the world on his shoulders and he was terrified of dropping it. He still is.

Now I ain’t tell you this so you’ll take him back. Or whatever it is you kids are gettin’ up to. I’m just saying… if you’re gonna put him down, do me a favor and set him down easy, he’s been dropped enough.”

*********************************************************

The next night, I wake up to a sharp knock on my window and sit up straight, a tinge of confusion setting in until I fully wake up. I rush over to the window and throw it open, knowing there’s only one person it could be. I passed him a note before I left work, asking him to visit me tonight. But I’d fallen asleep waiting on him when the night dragged on.

Chris leans awkwardly into the window, the energy so different from the last time we knelt here. He bites his lip, his eyes bouncing between my room and my face before he finally speaks. “Y/N. I am so fucking sorry. I didn’t think you wanted to hear it from me but it’s no excuse. I shoulda said it as soon as I saw you-”

Reaching out softly and lacing our hands together, I cut into his rambling, eager for him to know that it’s all okay now. “My uncle told me everything. I’m sorry too. It’s not fair of me to assume I’m the only one with a fucked up life.”

He grimaces, breathing out heavily through his nose. I can feel him fight the urge to shut down, relief engulfing me when he doesn’t pull away. “We should start a charity, huh? The deadbeat parents society. We’d make a fuckin’ killing.”

I smile weakly, knowing what it is to cover my pain with self-deprecating jokes. Knowing how it never once stopped me from hurting. Instead acting as a bandaid, simply covering the problem but not solving it.

Chris laughs out a bitter half-chuckle with a shake of his head. “It’s just ironic, you know? All those lessons, he’d drill into me. All that big talk about what it means to be a man. Just for him to turn around and walk out on his family. The one he had left. Some man he was.”

He clears his throat, trying to suppress the emotion in his voice, so I squeeze his hand in encouragement. He gives me a sad smile before he continues. “You know I used to think it was me. Like I wasn’t enough to make him want to stick around. But now? I look at Evie and it just don’t make sense. Ain’t a thing in the world could make me walk away from that face.”

His earnestness cracks me open and I bring my open hand up to cup the side of his face. “Take it from someone who’s got years of top dollar therapy behind them. None of it was your fault.”

Giving me a nod like he wants to believe me, Chris blinks at me slowly. “Maybe not.” He sighs and pulls away, drumming his fingers on the windowsill. “But last weekend was. What do you say, you let me try to make it up to you?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.” I lie for the second time in a row. But this time, the smile he gives me tells me he’s calling my bluff.

*********************************************************

“What if I told you I’ve never fished before in my life?” I say anxiously as I watch Chris set up my rod, trying my hardest to keep my disgust at the bait out of my tone.

I’ve never been on such a small boat either, it’s more fun to feel all the waves this way, but I definitely will not be telling him that.

He gives me a lopsided smile, looking up from his hands. “Was that supposed to be hard to believe or somethin’?”

“Well I don’t know, people usually have a dad there to take them out fishing, even some of my city friends, but my dad was too preoccupied with everything work-related.” I sigh, not expecting the innocent conversation to take such a sad turn. “But I’m a country girl now I gotta learn the ropes.” I mock a Southern accent, trying to bring light to the clouded atmosphere.

Chris just laughs, shaking his head as he hands me the fishing rod, bait now attached and swaying slightly. “That’s okay. No time like the present.”

I look between him and the rod a couple of times before I give him my best puppy dog eyes. “Can’t you just cast it for me?”

He scrunches up his nose and shakes his head back at me. “No can do, Scotch. If I do, you’ll never learn and then you’ll tell the next country boy you pull, I never taught you right. And that I cannot have.” He jokes, leaning over and adjusting my hold on the pole.

“Oh, I promise you, you’re the only boy who will ever get me on a fishing boat.”

He’s silent for a beat before he locks eyes with me, a glint I can’t place in his eyes. “Careful with those promises, darlin’. Round here we make you keep ‘em.”

Chris doesn’t let the moment hold long enough for me to reply, standing and moving to sit beside me on my bench. He moves my hand from where it had been lying on my leg to join the other one on the pole. “Take your index finger and hold the line. Not like that. Perfect.”

It’s so funny how easily he slips into a bossy voice but I kind of love it. I’m starting to realize how much I like every version of him. He whistles low for my attention and I glare at him. Okay, maybe not every version.

“Watch me, okay.” He says as he picks up his own rod, narrating his movements as I study him. “Pull back to about right here and then swing forward. Make sure you’re watching the water where you want to land. When you’re about here, let go of the line. Simple.”

Chris smiles at me but I just stare back blankly. If he thinks I got any of that he’s an idiot. But, I’m way too stubborn to ask him to show me again so I take a deep breath and try to imitate him.

To my surprise, my cast actually lands somewhat near where I was aiming for and I laugh in shock. “I did it.”

“You did!” Chris says, matching my excitement while he reaches over to close the bail for me. He takes the pole from my hand and places it into his holder. “Watch it now. If you see a tug, you gotta grab it fast.”

“Got it, captain.” I bring my fingers to my forehead, saluting the boy who’s shaking his head and avoiding eye contact with me.

In between laughs, he speaks. “You have got to be the corniest motherfucker alive.”

Before I can even muster a reply, I get distracted by the sight in front of me. Well, I get distracted by the boy in front of me, taking off his baseball hat and ruffling his hair before placing it back on his head.

For whatever reason the sight of him puts me in a trance, and it’s incredibly embarrassing. “Whatcha looking at sweetheart?” He asks, taking full advantage of my flusteredness.

I scoff, turning away to hide the blush that threatens to taint my smiley cheeks, keeping a firm grasp on the rod in front of me. “Don’t get cocky now, Christopher, it's a bad look even for you.”

“Somehow I get the feeling you don’t think I have many bad looks.” He taunts, only earning a punch to the shoulder. “Okay, Scotch. I’m kidding, I'm kidding, really, I’m flattered.” He places his hands on his heart, only furthering my annoyance.

“We’ll just forget all that talking you’ve been doing about me around town then yeah? People here seem to have an understanding that you speak highly of me.” I argue, proving my point when his eyes roll to the back of his head in annoyance.

“Is that why-” He starts, but from the corner of my eye, I notice my pole begin to bend towards the water and gasp.

“Oh! It’s moving!” I say, jumping up from my seat and cutting him off. I grab the rod, fumbling a bit and almost dropping it but Chris saves it before the fish can pull it under.

I flinch a bit, expecting him to yell about almost losing his rod but he just hands it to me with an encouraging smile. “Okay, babe. Pull it up to ‘bout 45 degrees. Okay reel down and then pull up. Keep doing it just like that.”

I do exactly what he says, watching the fish skip across the waves until he is squirming the air in front of us. I let out an excited yelp as Chris unhooks it and holds it up. “Damn, Scotch. This is a big sumofabitch for your first catch. You wanna take a picture?"

My excitement dwells a bit as I stare down at its beady little eyes and Chris laughs before he tosses it back. I lean over the boat, unsure why the tiny accomplishment is making me feel so emotional.

Giving him a huge grin, I turn to wrap my arms around Chris, still bouncing slightly with excitement. “I really caught one all by myself.” Any other time, I’d be embarrassed at how young I sound but right now I don’t care at all.

Chris returns my hug, laughing into my hair as we sway back and forth with the waves. I pull away slightly, staring up at him and admiring his icy blue eyes in the low moonlight. And before I can talk myself out of it, I lean up, pressing my lips to his in a fraction of a kiss. He looks stunned but leans back in, chasing my lips but letting me lead. I keep it chaste, wanting to know he wants this as much as me before I go any further.

He pulls back first, eyes scanning my face for any sense of discomfort, only finding my begging eyes. “I really like hanging around you, you know that right?”

I smile, relief washing over me when I come to the conclusion I didn’t make a complete fool of myself. “Yeah? Do I make the job of scooping up horse shit that much better?”

His hands lift to the sides of my face, practically covering my whole cheek with his palms. “So much better.” He leans back in, this time guiding the kiss, leaving me in a butterfly-filled puddle in his grasp.

Everything besides the two of us seems to dissipate around me, nothing but the warm rough feeling of his fingers on my cheek keeping me grounded.

When we finally pull away, Chris resting his forehead against mine as the lightening bugs flutter near the bay, I realize how insane I've been for ever once comparing him to Jace.

Jace couldn’t kiss like this if his entire life depended on it.

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