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#Sneaker enthusiasts
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uniquexblogs · 11 months
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blairest · 10 months
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* . ´ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐒 en : de la mano de dionisio.
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bi-writes · 23 days
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can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)
greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."
you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.
you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.
you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."
you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.
he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.
he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.
he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.
ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.
yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.
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luveline · 9 months
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how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee
tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 
Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 
"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 
"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 
You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 
Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 
Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 
What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 
Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 
"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.
Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 
"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 
"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 
You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 
Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 
From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.
No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 
Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 
Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.
"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 
That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 
"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 
You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 
Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"
The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."
"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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Aaron and reader on their daughter’s first day of preschool 🥺 aaron is super protective and is like “why can’t we homeschool her??”
baby steps
THAT'S ADORABLE cw; fem!reader, girl!dad aaron, brief mentions of food, reader and aaron are married
when it came to baby girl hotchner starting school - a feat that once felt like was forever away - you assumed aaron would be the pillar of strength, especially after going through the same with jack a few years ago. you would have bet money he would've been the one persuading you out of the house, tossing reassurances left and right, getting you to smile through the tears; the voice of reason.
but, you were wrong.
from the moment your daughter was laid in aaron's arms, she wholeheartedly and completely had him wrapped around her little finger. and so the morning of her first day, aaron, the ever prompt riser, seemed to get out of bed much slower than usual. he was going to the office a bit late so he could see her off to school, but even on his days off would he be up before his alarm.
shockingly, and perhaps for the very first time since you have known him, aaron had hit snooze. just once, though, for five minutes.
likewise he sluggishly had gotten ready for the day, and now he was merely a shadow - following you around until it was time to wake the kiddos up.
"sweetheart?"
"hm?" you hummed in question, sealing the ziploc containing jack's sandwich.
"look at this."
after securing the bag into jack's lunch box, you glanced in aaron's direction, only to find him holding up her tiny, purple backpack. on his face, the most broken hearted expression there ever was.
"can't we homeschool her?" aaron asked, his voice the equivalent to a whine.
"yeah." you snorted out a laugh, grabbing another baggie for baby girl's snack. "with all the free time we have."
he continued to silently poke around as you finished preparing jack's lunch. it was only a matter of time until he found something else to mournfully point out.
"honey." next in hand, her brand new pair of sneakers (a small pair of pink converse, courtesy of uncle spencer) which looked absolutely minuscule in those hands of his.
"they're just shoes. she has how many pairs?" you teased gently, fighting the urge to succumb to tears yourself, courtesy of your husband.
"they're school shoes."
"you better quit it, or you're going to make me cry." with your index finger, you indicated for aaron to come. once he was in reach, you pulled him to you, wrapping your arms around his middle.
aaron instinctively placed a kiss on the top of your head, mumbling into your hair afterwards. "our little girl is growing up, isn't she?"
"she'll only be gone for three hours. three times a week at that." you toyed with his tie soothingly, and he released a deep sigh. "she'll still be your little girl when she gets back, i promise."
the look on his face was still utterly unconvinced - head cocked a bit to the side, eyebrows pulled, his lips almost begging to retake shape of his previous pout.
"now c'mon, let's go get our bugs up for their first day." you gave aaron an enthusiastic smile, to which he couldn't help but smile back - your smile was his weakness - releasing your hold on him.
but at the loss of contact, and at the next action at hand, a small groan escaped him. as you trekked up the stairs, you peered behind, making sure he was following you.
he was, and mumbling under his breath.
"god how am i going to survive when she's off to kindergarten?"
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The Paddock Princess Diaries (Dad! Charles Leclerc x Wife! Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 2k
Join Magalie Leclerc, a four-year-old who steals the hearts of the Formula 1 world as she accompanies her father, Charles Leclerc, to his race.
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In their hotel room overlooking the scenic Ardennes forest, the morning sun peaked through the curtains, casting a comfortable glow upon the Leclerc family. Charles stood in front of the mirror, his usually impeccable hair staging a rebellion of its own, sticking out in every direction imaginable.
“Charles, sweetheart, we've got to hustle! The race isn't going to wait for your hair to behave,” Y/N called out from across the room, trying to stifle her laughter at her husband's wrestling match with his brown locks. Meanwhile she is gently nudging Magalie's tiny feet into her Ferrari-themed sneakers. The vibrant red of the shoes matched the excitement in the room.
“I know, I know, just a second,” Charles groaned, his frustration evident as he attempted to coax his stubborn strands into submission.
Y/N smirked. “Well, maybe you should have a chat with it, see if you can reason with it,” she suggested, earning a side eye glare from her husband.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” he retorted before handing her the comb in defeat. “Here, you're the only one who can tame this wild beast.”
Grinning triumphantly, Y/N took up the challenge, expertly smoothing down his hair with exaggerated motion. As she worked, their eyes met in the mirror, a silent exchange passing between them. “There, much better! You almost look presentable now,” she teased which elicited a mortified gasp from Charles.
Magalie proudly showed off her Ferrari-themed outfit to her parents. “Regarde, Papa, Maman! Je suis prête pour la course!” she exclaimed in her adorable, still-learning French, her words a delightful jumble of accents and mispronunciations.
Charles laughed, swooping in to scoop her up into his arms. "Bravo, ma petite championne! You look très chic in your Ferrari gear,” he said with a wink, earning a giggle from his daughter.
As they made their way towards the door, Magalie suddenly stopped in her tracks.
“Papa, Maman, can Teddy come too?” she pleaded, her voice hopeful.
Charles and Y/N exchanged amused glances, charmed by their daughter's request. “Of course, honey,” Y/N replied with a smile. But only if Teddy promises to cheer loudly for Papa!”
Magalie's face lit up with delight, and she hugged her teddy bear. “Bien sûr, Maman! Teddy loves Ferrari too!” she exclaimed, her words punctuated by the enthusiastic nodding of her stuffed companion.
Chuckling at the adorable sight, Charles ruffled Magalie's hair affectionately. “Alright then, it's settled. Teddy can come along to keep you company,” he said, his heart swelling with love.
With Magalie clutching Teddy in one hand and Charles holding her other hand, the Leclercs set off, their laughter echoing through the hotel corridors.
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Mechanics scurried about, fine-tuning the scarlet machines, while engineers huddled around laptops, analyzing data and strategies for the upcoming race.
Magalie, clutching her teddy bear and sporting her Ferrari-themed outfit, drew immediate attention as soon as she stepped into the garage. The team members couldn't help but pause in their tasks to admire the adorable sight before them.
“Regardez, c'est la petite Magalie! Elle est trop mignonne!” exclaimed one of the mechanics, his eyes twinkling with delight as he knelt down to Magalie's level.
“She's like a mini-Charles, but even cuter!” another chimed in, a fond smile playing on his lips as he admired Magalie's outfit.
Magalie beamed at the attention, her cheeks flushing with pride. “Merci!” she replied shyly, her French accent adding to her charm as she clung tightly to her teddy bear.
The team members chuckled warmly, ruffling her hair and exchanging amused glances with each other. “Watch out, boys, we've got a future heartbreaker in our midst!” one of them joked, earning a chorus of laughter from the group.
As the Ferrari team members gathered around Magalie, she couldn't contain her excitement. With a gleam in her eye, she raised her tiny fist into the air, ready to unleash her rallying cry.
“Fowza Fewawi, sem-pwe!” she declared, her attempt at rolling the R's coming out more like a playful purr than a roar.
The garage erupted into laughter. “Close enough, Magalie! We'll work on those Rs later,” one of the mechanics joked.
Magalie giggled along with the team. “Forza Ferwawi!” she tried again, determination shining through despite her adorable mispronunciation.
Charles and Y/N exchanged amused glances, their hearts melting at their daughter's antics. “She's trying her best,” Charles whispered to Y/N, his voice filled with pride. And Y/N could swear that the man is on the verge of crying.
Magalie, not content with just her own cheering, looked down at her teddy bear and had a stroke of genius. With a toothy grin, she grabbed Teddy's arms and began moving them up and down in sync with her own cheers, creating a hilarious spectacle that had everyone in stitches.
Magalie Leclerc and her animated teddy bear became the unofficial mascots of the Ferrari team for the day. “Look at Teddy go!” someone exclaimed, while others clapped along to the makeshift cheer routine.
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As Y/N and Magalie settled into the Ferrari hospitality cafe, the lively atmosphere of the paddock enveloped them. Magalie took delighted sips from her baby chino, eyes sparkling as she soaked in the sights and sounds around her.
Suddenly, a familiar voice caught Y/N's attention, and she turned to see a friendly face approaching their table. “Y/N!” the voice exclaimed, belonging to Oliver Bearman.
“Ollie! It's great to see you,” Y/N greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join them at their table. “I did not expect you would be here”
Oliver took the seat opposite Y/N. “Well you can’t miss a Spa race.” he replied, his eyes lighting up as he glanced at Magalie. “And who is this little Ferrari fan?”
Y/N beamed with pride, placing a gentle hand on Magalie's shoulder. “This is Magalie. Charles finally agreed to bring her to a race. As you can see, she’s already a big fan of the sport.”
Magalie, sensing a new friend in Oliver, offered him a wave before taking another sip of her baby chino.
Oliver tilted his head curiously, “So, Magalie, do you want to be a racer like your Papa when you grow up?”
Magalie's face lit up at the question. Her little mind already cooking up something.
Y/N jumped in with a laugh. “She’s more of a water than land person. Oh, Ollie, you have no idea. Once she's in, Charles and I have to practically beg, plead, and promise her all the chocolates in the world just to get her out and dry,” she confessed.
Magalie nodded eagerly, “I want to be a swimming athlete,” she declared proudly, her arms flapping as she imagined herself gliding through the water.
Ollie chuckled as he imagined the scene of Charles and Y/N negotiating with their determined little swimmer. “A swimming athlete, huh? Well, you'll definitely make quite the splash in the pool.”
“That's right! I'll be the fastest fish in the sea!” she proclaimed, her imagination running wild with visions of swimming glory.
Magalie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to Oliver, her voice filled with eager anticipation. “Oncle Ollie, will you train me to be the best swimmer ever?”
Ollie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, uh, Magalie, I have to admit, I'm not much of a swimmer,” he confessed.
Magalie's face fell for a moment, disappointment flickering across her features.
“I'll cheer for you from the sidelines like nobody's business," he promised, trying to lift up her mood.
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The Belgian circuit buzzed with excitement as Charles Leclerc zipped around the track during qualifying. It is no surprise either when he got the pole position.
Charles embraced his daughter tightly as she clung to him, her tiny hands clutching his racing suit. “Did you see, Papa? You were so fast!” Magalie exclaimed, her voice filled with awe.
He beamed down at her. “Yes, Magalie, I did it for you,” he said, lifting her up so she could see the world from his perspective. “This pole position is for you.”
Magalie's eyes sparkled with delight as she recounted Charles with tales of her encounter. “Regarde, Papa! I met Ollie!”.
Charles's heart skipped a beat as he listened to Magalie's tale. “Oh là là! Mon dieu!” he exclaimed dramatically, his hand flying to his chest. “But Magalie, pourquoi Ollie? Tu préfères Ollie à ton papa?” he lamented, feigning devastation.
Magalie giggled, not quite understanding her father's theatrics. “We talked about racing, Papa! Ollie showed me his helmet and let me sit in his simulator,” her enthusiasm contagious.
Y/N chimed in. “And they discussed their favorite ice cream flavors too! Magalie was convinced that chocolate chip is the best,” she added, shooting Charles a playful grin.
Charles gasped. “Mon cœur! Mon âme! Comment peux-tu, Magalie?" he almost visibly flinch. “You prefer chocolate chip over my delicious homemade vanilla ice cream? Sacrebleu!”.
As the chatter in the hospitality club continued, Ollie casually strolled by, his charisma lighting up the room. With a theatrical flourish, he shot Ollie a mock-serious glare.
“Don't even think about stealing my daughter's heart,” Charles declared in mock seriousness.
Ollie, always one to play along, raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. “Oh, Charles, you wound me,” he replied, feigning offense. “I would never dream of it.”
Y/N, already accustomed to her husband’s flair for the dramatic, simply rolled her eyes with a fond smile, shaking her head in amusement.
But Charles wasn't finished yet. He launched into a series of grandiose tales, regaling them with exaggerated accounts of his own racing triumphs. Each story seemed to grow taller and more fantastical than the last, as Charles spun elaborate yarns of daring maneuvers and impossible victories.
Ollie played along, his laughter mingling with Charles's, as the two drivers engaged in a friendly competition of one-upmanship. Magalie watched with wide-eyed fascination.
As the playful banter reached its climax, Charles turned to Magalie. “Magalie, ma chérie, who do you think is more handsome: Papa or Ollie?” he asked.
Magalie's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected question. “Um... Ollie!” she blurted out, her decision made with the innocence of a child.
Gasping dramatically, he clutched his chest as if struck by a sudden heart attack, his eyes widening in horror. “Mon Dieu! Ma propre fille me trahit!“ he exclaimed, his voice trembling with despair. “To think that my own flesh and blood would choose Ollie over her beloved Papa! C'est tragique!”
Y/N’s amusement bubbling over into uncontrollable giggles. “Charles, tu es si dramatique,” she teased.
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As the cameras pivot towards Magalie, she sits in Y/N's arms, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The journalists approach, their questions carefully curated for the young spectator.
“Well, hello there, Magalie! How are you finding your first race?” A journalist from Sky Sport greets her with a warm smile.
Magalie beams. “It's amazing! Papa goes really fast!” Her tiny hands gesture wildly, trying to capture the speed of the cars.
Y/N chuckles softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Magalie's face. “Yes, he does, sweetheart. What's been your favorite part so far?”
“When the cars go zoom, zoom, zoom!!” she exclaims, her arms mimicking the motions on the track.
Another journalist, this one appears to be from beIN SPORTS, charmed by Magalie's animated gestures, joins in. “How about your Papa getting pole position today? What do you think about that?”
Her face lights up with pride, smile reaching ear to ear. “I knew he would win! He's the best!”
Y/N motions for them to wrap up the questions soon, and they all nodded in understanding.
“One last thing, Magalie, do you have a message for all the Ferrari fans who are watching this race?” someone inquires from the back.
“To all the Ferrari fans,” she begins, “thank you for cheering for My Papa! He loves you all very much, and he's going to win for you!”
As the interviews wrap up, one of the journalists can't resist bestowing a title for Magalie.
“Well, folks, it looks like we've found our newest addition to the paddock royalty! Introducing... Magalie Leclerc, the Paddock Princess!” The journalist announces.
Magalie glances up at Y/N, who beams with pride at her daughter. “Paddock Princess, huh?” Y/N muses. "I think that has a nice ring to it, your royal highness.”
“If I am a princess, then that means you are the queen, Maman.”
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noneorother · 24 days
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The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1
part 1 l part 2
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This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.
I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover
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Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great
2. The duelling US covers
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Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.
Tier: Blessed by God Herself
3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover
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How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF
4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers
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This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)
5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued
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I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.
Tier: Bad
6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover
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For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job
7. France, De bons présages cover
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Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)
8. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.
Tier: WTF
9. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad
10. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF
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END of round one. I need a nap.
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leossmoonn · 6 months
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five nights with mike (2) | mike schmidt
read part one
summary - a romance develops between you and mike at freddy’s
warnings / includes - reader is fem. established feelings. natural time skips. very loosely follows the plot of the movie but i didn’t want to watch it again for this lol. eventual smut - piv, oral f receiving, brief handjob
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18+ under the cut
“thank you so much for picking me up. you might have to tomorrow, too.”
mike glances at you, giving you a small smile. “it’s no problem.”
you buckle yourself in and set your purse between your legs on the ground. “how is abby?”
“great. she asks about you all the time,” mike chuckles. “oh,” you sigh, putting your hand on your chest. “she’s adorable. maybe sometime we can eat lunch or something together.”
his heart spikes and he nods enthusiastically. “that-that would be awesome. yeah and, uh, i can pay this time. i can even make it, too.”
“mike schmidt cooks, huh?” you grin at him. “i only know how to make a few things, but i like cooking in general. just give me a recipe and i’ll try my best,” he says.
“mmm. well, i love a man who can cook,” you remark, looking out the window. heat creeps up mike’s neck and reaches his ears. “just let me know what kind of food you like, and i’ll make it. i’m not a trained chef or anything, though, so if it’s bad then i don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
“i bet you’re better than me. i personally like baking better,” you say.
“baking is cool, but it takes too long and i’m an impatient person.”
“well, how about you cook and i’ll bring the dessert.”
“oh, you don’t have to do that,” mike shakes his head. “you’re already so busy with work.”
“it’s no trouble. i’ve stated to get later shifts at my day job. it means i work later, but more time to sleep and some more time reserved for things like baking.”
“that’s great to hear. do you feel like you sleep better now?”
“no,” you snort. “if anything, i feel worse, but that’s just my brain. i can tell my body appreciates it.”
mike hums in response. “tonight you can sleep the majority of the shift if you’d like.”
“and leave you all alone? no. after what happened to abby, i’m kind of scared to sleep there.”
mike rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “don’t let abby scare you. she has lots of imaginary friends even before i took her there, which won’t be happening again.”
“right,” you sigh. “it’s just that i swore i heard other voices. like a man’s voice.”
mike feels the hairs raise up on his arms even under his jacket. “maybe tonight we can scope it out.”
“sure. hopefully we don’t die. imagine those fur things coming to life and murdering us,” you shiver in thought.
mike chuckles, “that would be wild.”
mike parks his car at the pizzeria. you grab your purse and lead the way in. as you step inside, there’s a cracking sound. you look under your shoe, seeing a bunch of glass on the floor.
“holy shit,” you gasp. you look at the diner, seeing it totally trashed.
“fuck, um. yeah, steve mentioned this to me earlier. i-i must’ve forgot,” mike says sheepishly. he really did forget. he must’ve been so clouded by his excitement to see you, he scraped his conversation with steve completely.
“it’s okay. it’s not like you warning me would’ve changed what happened.” you can’t believe your eyes. it seems like every table in the diner is flipped over or broken. glass litters the floor and you’re thankful you chose to wear sneakers tonight and not slippers like you have been. “what did happen?” you turn to mike.
“i guess a bunch of people came in here after we left and trashed it. i’m not sure why. i swore we locked all the doors.”
“yeah, i thought we did, too. we wanted to get abby out of here fast, though, so we could’ve missed something.”
“yeah, that’s what i was thinking, too,” mike sighs. “i guess you really won’t be getting any rest tonight.”
“it’s alright,” you shrug. “i just don’t know if we’ll be able to get the diner back to its original state.”
“it’s not like anybody but us comes here,” mike jokes. you smile and nod, “right.” you set your purse down on one of the booth tables that isn’t destroyed. “let’s get to it.”
mike and you spend most of the night cleaning. you were shocked to find even more mess in the hallway and kitchen areas. everything was going smoothly until you find what you think is blood splattered all over the storage room window.
“mike?” you call out. there’s no answer and a pang of worry hits your chest. “mike?” you shout louder.
“coming!” you hear him. fast footsteps echo in the hallway and you can’t help but feel creeped out. you always thought this place was weird and dinky. you only accepted the job because you found out another person was working, and while you feel very save with mike, you just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something seriously wrong with this place.
“what’s up?” mike asks. you point to the window and his eyes widen. “oh,” he says. “um, maybe that’s the blood of the person destroying the place?”
“maybe. but it’s from the inside.”
“yeah,” mike gulps. “we can tell steve about it or something. we were hired to babysit this place, not be a clean up crew.”
“right,” you nod. he grabs your hand gently and you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy. “let’s go back to the office. we only have a couple more hours here. we can relax from cleaning then just be done.”
you smile in agreement, letting him lead you out of the hallway. soon your mind wanders away from the eerie feelings. you talk about everything and nothing. you laugh at every terrible joke he makes. he listens intently to stories about your family. with each minute, it seems like you two get closer — both emotionally and physically. by the end of the shift, you’re sitting knee-to-knee. your foot is brushing up against his jeans, feeling the muscle of his calf. both of your hands are rested on the desk and his fingers routinely brush up against yours. soon, they’re basically intertwined. you don’t know how they got there, but you’re not complaining.
“looks like we made it without dying,” mike says. you grin, “until tomorrow.”
“shall i take you home, then?” he asks. your face falls and he catches it, but you’re quick to mask it. “yeah, sure.” the disappointment seeps into you, but you know you’ll see him again soon. you just wish you could have more time with him.
you both walk out, triple checking that everything is shut and locked. the car ride home is silent, but it’s comfortable. you glance at mike every so often, admiring him from the passenger seat. his hair is tousled from running his hands in it. his eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on driving, his eyes moving every so often as he watches the road. your eyes trial down the shape of his nose, noticing the tiniest bump towards the top.
dread fills you as he pulls into your driveway. you purse your lips as you try to think of what will allow you to spend more time with him.
“what’re your plans for today?” you ask. “nothing much. abby’s with a babysitter right now. thankfully, it’s the weekend so i don’t have to rush to take her to school,” he answers.
“ah,” you hum. he looks to you, seeing your face in deep concentration as you stare at your lap. “what about you? you work later today, right?”
“yep. at 2,” you say. he glances at the dashboard clock that reads 6:30 am. “you have a while then. are you tired?” he asks.
“not really. honestly, staying up all night kind of gave me a boost of energy.”
“me, too,” he nods. you can’t help but sigh. there’s no good reason for him to come inside or even for you to go back to his house. you figure you just have to wait until tonight.
“thank you again for driving me. are you able to pick me up later?” you ask.
“of course,” he nods. you smile, “great! i really appreciate it.”
“it’s really no problem,” he smiles. you start to get out of the car, but he stops you. “hey, can i, uh, use your bathroom really quickly?”
“yeah,” you nod a little too much. “thank you,” he says, stepping out of his car. you unlock the front door, trying to remember if you left your house a complete mess or not. you’re relieved to see that you did not.
mike looks around your house. it looks identical to his from the outside, but the inside is a whole different story. he wonders if you hired an interior decorator because of how beautiful it looks.
“the bathroom is down the hall to the right,” you say. he turns to look at you, then to the hallway. “thanks,” he says, making his way to the closed door.
you take off your shoes, placing them neatly on the small shoe rack you have by the door. there are some dirty dishes on the coffee table in your living room from your last meal, but you’re sure he doesn’t mind. everyone has dirty dishes laying out from time to time. you take the opportunity to load them in your dishes washer, re-folding some blankets and fluffing up the couch pillows.
you’re sat on your couch when mike comes out.
“are you hungry?” you ask. “no,” he lies. he wants to stay, but he doesn’t want to be a burden to you.
“oh, come on. we haven’t eaten in like, eight hours. at least i haven’t. i have some cinnamon rolls that would love to be baked.”
“would they, though?”
you giggle and stand up. “will your babysitter mind staying a little late?”
“i’ll call her,” mike says. he takes out his phone, dialing his home phone. it takes a moment or two for someone to pick up. “hello?” abby’s voice echos.
“hey, abby. is max there?” he asks. “yes. she just got me breakfast from mcdonald’s,” abby says.
“oh, that’s nice of her. do you mind if i speak to her real quick?”
“okay. max!”
mike quickly pulls the phone away as abby yells into the mic.
“hello?” max says. “hey, max. i, uh, got caught up at the pizzeria. are you able to stay and watch her for an hour or so?” mike asks.
“yeah, of course,” she says quickly. “awesome. i’ll pay you extra, i promise,” mike says.
“it’s okay, mike. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“yep,” he hangs up, waking into the kitchen where you’re setting out the dough.
“ah, these are pre-packaged,” mike remarks. “nobody has time to make cinnamon rolls by scratch,” you say.
“says the person who likes baking. or do you just like fake baking?”
“this is not fake baking!” you exclaim. “i am putting it in the oven and going to put icing over it.”
“whatever you say.” mike leans against your counter, crossing his arms over his chest. you can’t help but notice him flex his biceps.
“i bet you fake cook,” you quip. his brows raise in question. “and what does that entail?”
“you put a foam cup full of ramen and warm it up in the microwave.”
“those are delicious.”
“i mean, yeah, but it’s so hard to put an egg in it and sometimes the noodles aren’t soft enough.”
“well, i usually cook my ramen on the stovetop. so if i ever make you that, you’ll know it’s real cooking.”
you laugh at his joke, your eyes flickering from the rolls to him a few times. you think about doing this again with him, next time with him making you food. you think about being in his house, seeing how he lives, looking at the pictures he may have on the walls, or lack thereof. you think about sitting on his couch and watching a movie, shoulders and knees touching. you wonder what his room looks like, what color his sheets are. you want to know what he looks like sleeping and waking up. you want to know what he looks like on top of you and between your thighs.
“what else do you know how to make?” you ask.
“chicken pot pie.”
“pot pie? wow.” you are genuinely impressed.
“i’ve been told i make a mean stir fry, too.”
“you’ll have to make it for me then. does abby like your cooking?” you ask, putting the pan in the preheated oven.
“only if it’s spaghetti and waffles.”
“i see that she’s a simple girl.”
“food-wise, she is. but i don’t mind. they’re both easy things to make.”
“it’s sweet.” you turn to him, leaning against the counter diagonal from him. “how you take care of her. she’s lucky to have you.”
“truth is, i’m lucky to have her. we don’t always get along, but she keeps me going.”
“that is adorable,” you awe. “i am an only child, so i envy people who have siblings.”
“it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s nice just having someone there.”
“seems like it,” you say. you move to your coffee maker, turning it on and finding a k-cup to use. “would you like some coffee?”
“i would,” he nods. “can you grab us some mugs? they’re in the cabinet behind your head,” you direct.
he does so, placing the cups on the counter. he moves to slide it to you at the same time you put your hand on it. your heart skips a beat. your eyes shoot to his and you see they’re already on you. you watch his eyes trail down to your lips and the back up to your own eyes. you feel weak in the knees as he stares at you through his lashes. his eyes are wide and full of innocence, but there’s a hint of mischief in them as his pupils begin to widen.
“thank you,” you say, your voice coming out barely above a whisper.
“mhm,” he hums, his voice low and smooth. “how do you like your coffee?” you ask.
“one sugar and a splash of milk or creamer. whatever you have,” he answers.
“i have some creamer in the fridge.” you head towards your refrigerator. he watches you as you bite your lip as you search for the creamer. you shut the fridge door gently, setting the creamer next to the coffee maker. you open the cabinet above of you, grabbing a couple packets of sugar. he keeps his eyes on you as the silence settles in.
this feels so nice. being with you in your house feels nice. being close to you, spending time with you feels nice. mike wants to do this every day. he wants to fall asleep holding you close like he did the other night in the office. he wants to live with you and make dinner for you, having it await your arrival after your day shift. he wants to wake up next to you, tracing circles on your skin until they eventually become replaced with kisses. he wants to know how you’d look on top of him, riding his dick and face.
soon the cinnamon rolls are done. you take them out of the oven, waiting a few moments before icing them.
“you’re pretty good at icing,” you say. “thank you. these are kind of hard to ice since they’re so warm,” he chuckles.
“yeah, you’re supposed to wait, but i’m starving.” you take a bite into the roll, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. mike can’t help but notice that his jeans feel uncomfortably tight all the sudden. he takes a bite of his roll, making a note of how good they are.
“you can never go wrong with these,” you say. you take another bite, some icing sticking to the top of your lip. “you have a little bit of something here.” mike’s pinky points to his own lips.
“oh, god,” you laugh, heat creeping up your neck from embarrassment. “i should’ve warned you, i’m a messy eater.” you take a napkin and wipe it over the bottom half of your lip.
mike smiles and sets his roll down. “here, let me.”
you nod and place the napkin down, his fingers brushing against yours once more. he moves closer to you, leaning his head in to where your foreheads are almost touching. his gaze is trained on your lips as he cups your face, swiping his thumb over your lips. you don’t realize you’re holding in a breath until he looks into your eyes.
“thank you,” you manage to say. your throat feels dry all of the sudden and you feel hot all over. “no problem,” he says.
the air is thick between you two. you’re so close, closer than you’ve ever been. you can feel the heat radiating off of him. when you inhale you can smell him. he smells like the woods, spearmint, and vanilla. you can recognize the spearmint smell from his car. you wonder if the woodsy smell is natural and if the vanilla is the scent of his body wash.
he doesn’t move is hand away and you’re sure you don’t want him to. his eyes move across your face, not sure whether to stare at your lips or your eyes. he sucks in a deep breath, swallowing slowly. you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw becoming more sharp as he bites down on his back teeth for a moment.
“can i kiss you?” his voice is low and warm. your eyes flutter in surprise, your heart following in suit. his big brown eyes stare into yours, holding your eyes hostage.
“yes,” you finally say. he slowly moves in, his hand moving upwards to touch the nape of your neck. you try to control your breathing as you watch his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. he brushes his bottom lip against yours, causing a thrill to run up your spine. his head moves back slightly, but he makes up for it with closing the gap between you two.
kissing him feels like a weight taken off your shoulders. all the tension you’ve felt releases as you move your lips with his. he kissed you so gently, a little too soft, like he’s holding back. after a few seconds he pulls away, both of you catching your breaths.
“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he says. you smile, grabbing his free hand. “well, don’t stop.”
he kisses you again, this time harder. it’s almost bruising. he grabs your waist, holding you tighter and closer. you take a shower breath and his tongue slips into your mouth. you moan softly as his hand slivers down to your ass and squeezing the soft tissue. your arms wrap around him and your weave your fingers through his hair. it’s so soft like you’ve always imagined.
“can i do this?” mike breathes against your lips. your eyes are still closed as he slides both hands up your shirt. you answer him by pulling away completely and taking your shirt off, revealing your nude-colored bra. you expect his eyes to drop down immediately, but you watch as they follow your jaw and down your neck. they sweep across the area where your collarbones are, then finally landing on your breasts.
his hands walk up your sides, making you laugh a little bit. he smiles at you, his eyes jumping up to yours now. you can’t help but squeeze your thighs just by the way he’s looking at you. he attaches his lips to yours once more, but it’s not long before he starts to trail down to your neck and your chest. you unhook your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders to the ground. you lean against the counter as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples. you let out a little gasp as he pinches them, looking up at you to try and gage your reaction. he closes his lips around one nipple, flicking it with his tongue. you sigh this time, your hand falling to his head.
you feel his hands skim down to your pants. his fingers hook under the waistband, feeling over the cotton of your underwear. you shift your weight, feeling that the tension is almost unbearable. it’s painful as you watch him slowly slide down your pants. he runs his tongue down the valley of your breasts, pressing wet all over your tummy before landing at the top of your underwear. you step out of your pants, feeling the cold air hit your legs, making you shiver.
his left hand grabs the underside of your thigh. his hand is so warm against your cold skin. it feels nice, but not as nice as the feeling you get when he runs the pads of his fingertips down your underwear. he skims just over your slit, feeling some of the wetness that has collected. you want to slap the smirk off his face, but it makes your stomach flip.
“is there anything i should do?” he asks. now he looks all innocent, staring at you with wide eyes and raised brows.
“i could think of a few things,” you say. “mm, like what?” he inquires. his fingers are at the side of your panties. you watch in anticipation as you wait for him to pull them to the side. “tell me what you want,” mike says.
you swallow hard. “i… i want your fingers inside of me. and your mouth on me.”
you can see all of his top teeth as he smiles. “that’s all you had to say.”
you spread your legs, using the counter as a crutch. he pushes your underwear aside, slipping one finger into you. heat creeps up your neck at the sound of your cunt gushing. he slides it out momentarily, finding your clit to moisten the area. he slides two fingers in this time, curling them inside of you. he watches you again, seeing your lips part and chest heave up and down. you feel your brain go numb as he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he brings his mouth to your cunt.
“ohmygod,” you rush out, your head lolling back. his tongue flicks your clit, sucking every so often. you lead so far back your back is supported by your cabinets. one of your hands hold his head, your fingers gripping his hair. your other hand is digging your fingernails into his clothes shoulder.
“fuck, mike,” you gasp as he quickens the pace of his fingers ever so slightly. he hits that spot so perfectly, and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs around his head. his tongue starts making stronger strokes on your clit. not enough to make it hurt, but enough to make you feel like you’re already about to orgasm.
you’ve talked to mike about past lovers. you know he’s had a couple and for only short periods of time. you assumed he would be experienced, but not an expert, which you had no problem with. he’s sure as hell proving you wrong now.
“don’t stop, don’t stop,” you breathe out. you place one hand next to you on the counter, gripping the marble top so hard you think it might leave an imprint in your palm. “mike, mike,” you warn him, your throat constricting and heart racing. your toes curl in your socks and you clench your thighs around his head one last time.
you have to push his head away, seeing the dazed look on his face. his fingers exit you and he sucks them dry. you visibly gulp, feeling warmth fill your lower stomach as you watch him. all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and your heavy breathing.
“good?” he asks. “yes,” you nod enthusiastically. “so good.”
you grab him by his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you taste yourself on his lips. both of your hands drop down to his jeans, undoing his belt quickly. his heart skips in excitement as his pant pool at his ankles. you palm him through his brief, feeling how hard he it. it must be painful, you think, and it is. he was already hard from the moment he kissed you, and it didn’t get any better when giving you head.
you pull away and wet your hand with your spit, shoving your hand down his boxers. both of his hands grip your waist as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping it in your hands, squeezing every so often. your other hand reached down to his balls, massaging them gently, but at the same pace as your other hand.
“shit,” mike groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he already feels like he’s going to blow a load. he hasn’t had sex in a long while, but he didn’t his stamina was this terrible. he knows it’s you, though. you’re the reason why his fingertips are digging into your skin. you’re the reason why his pre-cum is leaking all over your hand. you’re the reason why when he feels like he’s close to coming, he stops you because he wants — no, needs — to feel what it’s like inside of you.
“do you have a condom?” mike breaths out. “yeah,” you say. you quickly make your way to one of your drawers, pulling out a packet. “these work?” you ask.
“yes,” he nods. “you just keep condoms laying around?”
“easy access,” you shrug.
“you fuck everybody in your kitchen, then?”
“only my hot co-workers.”
he blushes at your comment. you give him a wink, tearing open the condom. you hand it to him and he slides it on. you grab the bottle of lube you keep handy as well, slathering it onto the condom, giving mike a playful squeeze that elicits a low groan. he takes you by the waist and kisses you, spinning you around so now yours against the counter again. you take your panties off and hop on, the cold marble feeling nice against your blazing hot skin.
you lean back, watching mike line himself up with you. he looks into your eyes then back down, pushing himself inside of you. you gasp softly, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he starts off slow at first, basking in your warmth and tight walls. but soon, he’s fucking you. he slides his arm under your back and pulls your bottom half towards him, causing the angle to change. he hikes one of your legs up, allowing him to lean into you more and just hit that spot deep inside of you deliciously.
“mike,” you pant into his shoulder, holding yourself close to him. he makes your eyes flutter shut and roll back farther with each thrust. you pulsate around him with every whimper and moan that comes out of his mouth. you soon feel that familiar feeling bubble in your lower stomach.
mike rests his head against your cabinet, looking down and watching as he slides in and out of you. his grip on your sides tighten as he tries to focus on other things than you, but he can’t. you’re just too sexy. the way you’re moaning in his ear, chanting his name with each thrust. the way your nails begin to scrape against his shoulder blades. not to mention, you look amazing just sitting on the countertop. he can’t not think about you and the fact that he’s inside of you.
that’s all he needs to finish.
you wrap both legs around him as you come. your head leans back, your eyes screwing shut. he comes with you, stopping after a few slow thrusts. he slides out of you, chest heaving up and down. you squeeze your legs together and swear you can still feel him inside of you.
he ties the condom and throws it into your trash can. you have a big smile on your face when he turns to look at you. he can’t help but mirror it.
“how, uh, was that?” he asks, suddenly becoming bashful. “amazing,” you breathe out. “how did i do?” you ask teasingly.
“you were…. perfect.” his pupils are blown and you can’t tell where his iris starts. his words make your body feel even more warm. you jump off your counter and put your clothes back on, making a note to wipe off your counter with lysol soon.
“i should get back home to abby,” mike says. your smile falls, but you understand. “she probably misses you.”
“probably not,” he chuckles. “well, i know i will.” you take his hands into yours.
“you’ll see me soon,” he says, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.
“i will,” you smile, starting to feel excited again. you walk him outside, leaning on the hood of his car. “i hope to do this again sometime,” you say.
“me, too. maybe sometime before work i can make you dinner?” he suggests.
you’re smiling so hard your cheeks are starting to hurt. “i would love that.”
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wqnwoos · 9 months
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the universe is always working against you, because somehow, vernon is always the one to catch you at your most embarrassing moments.
it’s not like you guys are even close — you’re in the same friend group, but you’re more orbiting around each other. the only time you interact one-on-one is usually because you’ve ended up humiliating yourself entirely, and he’s seen the whole thing. which would be fine, if, you know, you didn’t have a big fat crush on him.
the first time you met him, you tripped and sprawled at his feet. outside. in the college courtyard. and you, brightest of the bunch, looked up at his sneakers from the grass, and offered nothing but, “oh, hey, your shoes are untied!” — and after a short pause — “also, ow.”
when you had finally gotten up, with vernon’s help and joshua’s laughter, there’d been a glaring green grass stain on your white t-shirt. vernon had offered a spare t-shirt; you’d declined, backed away and said it was your new style. top ten most embarrassing things to ever leave your mouth.
since then, every encounter with chwe vernon has been intensely humiliating for you, and probably free entertainment for him. you’ve tripped in front of him more times than you can count. dropped (iced) coffee on his shirt. gotten his wired headphones caught in your bag strap — you still don’t know how that happened. once, he’d been the only person kind enough to tell you that you had toilet paper stuck to your shoe.
and now there’s this; you, at 2 in the morning in a mcdonald’s parking lot, having an enthusiastic karaoke session with your mcflurry spoon as a mic and a miffy air freshener as your audience, realising that vernon is the dude who’s just parked next to you, and he’s watching you with possibly the most amused grin you’ve ever seen him wear.
because you’d been into it — blasting your music, tossing your head dramatically and making all sorts of gestures to accompany it, until you’d realised a car has parked beside you. at which point you’d frozen, music still blaring, mcflurry spoon still pointed towards your lips, making eye contact with one delighted chwe vernon.
he rolls his window down, and, reluctantly, you do the same, twisting the volume button on your radio as you do.
“hi,” he says, lips twitching in an effort to maintain his composure.
you groan, dragging a hand over your face. “go on. you can laugh.”
“why would i laugh at a — a natural performer?” he asks, but he can’t suppress it; a laugh bubbles out, and you feel yourself shrink.
“if you ever breathe a word of this — ” you warn, and cut yourself off, because you don’t even know what to threaten him with. “unspeakable consequences,” you finish finally.
“unspeakable?” he repeats, and you give him a solemn nod.
“unspeakable.”
“understood,” he agrees, with a mock salute. “so, uh, what exactly are you — doing?”
“mid-terms,” you explain briefly; but maybe the sleep-deprivation is getting to you, because you’re suddenly asking him a question. “vernon?”
“yeah?”
“how come you’re only here at my most embarrassing moments?” you don’t even give him a chance to answer, rambling on before he can cut in. “like, i am not usually this clumsy. or stupid. or anything. but the second you show up, i’m tripping over my own feet like a — like a baby learning how to walk!”
he blinks at you slowly. “i don’t… know? i thought you were just naturally clumsy!”
“no!” you object, “it’s just when you’re around! you make me nervous! and then i just humiliate myself, which is so annoying, because you’re so cool, and — fuck a duck, i’m doing it again.” the last sentence is punctuated with you bumping your head forward in frustration — but you do it a little too hard, colliding with the steering wheel and causing a loud honk! to ring through the parking lot immediately.
vernon can’t help the laughter that escapes him at your mortified expression, leaning an arm over his open car window. “it’s okay,” he reassures, still grinning, when you cover your face in embarrassment. “i think it’s cute that you’re clumsy.”
“but i’m not clums— wait.” you stop your own protesting wail to turn to him in shock.
he cocks an eyebrow. “i’m waiting.”
“say that again!”
“what? that i think you’re cute?” his smile is becoming wider by the second.
“wow.” you look straight ahead, facing the empty parking lot and taking a breath.“okay. okay. thank you, vernon.”
“you’re very welcome, ___,” he mimics, smiling innocently when you cast him a look.
“i think you’re just making fun of me now, and so i’m going to go.”
vernon raises his hands and shrugs. “i won’t stop you.” and then suddenly he extends his arm towards you. “actually, i need to text a friend first. can i borrow your phone for a sec?”
dubiously, you hand your unlocked phone to him, and when he hands it over, you can see the new created contact “vernon 👽”, and the text he’s sent to himself.
he smiles at you, softer and less teasing this time. “text me when you get home, alright?”
you yank your hand away from his, pointing at him with your free hand. “oh, you smooth motherfucker.”
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an / writing everything except my requests at this point. i’m sorry guys 😭
taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin
447 notes · View notes
beenbaanbuun · 3 months
Text
silly thoughts w/ yunho
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words - 1.5k!! (are you impressed that i actually know for once?!?!?)
genre - angst/fluff
warnings - sad!yunho, anxious!yunho
——————————————————————————
you were half way through an episode of some shitty reality tv show. you’d come across it whilst trying to find something to pass the time and you’d somehow got caught up in all the fake drama happening between the people on screen. in fact, you hardly realised you were 3 episodes in until you heard the front door open and the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend. it took everything in you to pause the show mid argument, but you figured saying hello to yunho was probably more important.
“hi, yun,” you tossed the remote down and peered over the back of your sofa to watch as he kicked his sneakers off.
the first hint you got that something was off with him was the lack of reply you got. normally he was like an overly enthusiastic puppy, bounding over to you and kissing you before whispering his greetings. the next was the fact that he didn’t bother the straighten up his shoes and put them in the designated spot. he just left them there in front of the door and spun to face you with a sigh.
the third and final thing that let you know something was wrong was the frown that sat on his pretty mouth as he paced towards you slowly. you frowned back in sympathy, but he didn’t even acknowledge it. in fact, as he rounded the sofa, he didn’t seem to acknowledge you at all.
your mind was racing, wondering if you’d perhaps done something to upset him, and your mind wasn’t put to ease as he picked up the remote to turn to tv off completely. you watched with worry as he tossed it back down onto the couch, watching it bounce a few times before it fell onto the floor. he didn’t bother to pick it up, so you tried to instead.
but the moment you bent over, you felt a warm touch on your shoulder, preventing you from moving to grab the small machine. your eyes looked at his hand before traveling up his arm until you reached his face. it was still stony and the frown still replaced his usually joyful grin, but from this distance you could see more clearly. the red rings around his eyes were the first thing that really concerned you, and upon further inspection, you could see the water that had gathered along his lower lash line.
“yun,” you said quietly, your voice empathetic and sad. he simply shook his head, not wanting you say anything else.
half of you expected him to say something instead, but he just took his hand off of your shoulder and offered it to you. you took it and immediately yunho pulled you from the couch and towards the door of the living room. you followed in silence as he led you along the corridor to your bedroom.
it was dark in there, and yunho didn’t bother to turn the light on as he dragged you to the bed. he stopped just before it and gestured for you to get on. you did, sitting down on the plush mattress. again, he shook his head. this time you couldn’t quite discern what he wanted though. you furrowed your brows at him and his frown got deeper.
he crawled onto the bed himself, flopping down right in the middle.
“c’mere,” he sighed, opening his arms wide to invite you closer. it soon made sense what he wanted, and before he could even register it, you'd all but thrown yourself into his grasp. he sighed as you fell against his chest, some of his stress finally dissipating. you were pleased, but that still didn’t explain what had made him so moody.
still, you didn’t ask. if yunho wanted to tell you he would, and he’d do it when he was ready to. the two of you had figured out pretty early in your relationship that that was the best way to do things between the two of you. that way no one felt pressured to tell if they weren’t ready.
it didn’t mean you weren’t curious, though. it wasn’t often yunho was like this, so when he was it only made you worry. with the way yunho was petting your hair and pressing kisses to your head, you’d normally assume he was trying to comfort you. somehow you knew otherwise. you could tell he was focussing on his own comfort, trying to ground himself with the familiar feeling of your body close to his. the way his fingers massaged and squeezed at your flesh of your hip like it was a stress ball, or the way his fingers twisted your hair in the same pattern over and over again; it was all to soothe himself.
you let him continue, taking whatever comfort you could get from his repetitive ministrations. they slowed over time, becoming less routine and more spur of the moment. you weren’t sure how much time was passing, but eventually his hands relaxed completely and he let out his remaining tension with a sigh.
“fuck,” he muttered into the darkness of the room. it was quiet, and soft, but you could still feel the anxious edge it carried. you couldn’t help but raise your gaze to look at his face that had been illuminated by the soft moonlight that shone through the small gap in your curtains. again, he sighed before lowering his gaze from the ceiling, eyes meeting with yours, “you okay, honey?”
“am i okay?” the question came as a shock and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at him, “who cares if i’m okay, yunho! are you okay?”
he scoffed.
“i care if you’re okay,” he replied, “i know i must’ve worried you, hm?”
he was avoiding the question, that much was obvious. of course, you couldn’t blame him. he was supposed to tell before you asked, so of course he’d ignore it. you still couldn’t help but let it bother you, though.
“of course i’m worried, yun,” you tried your hardest to appear calm, but the way your voice sounded was anything but, “you haven’t told me a thing, and i know i shouldn’t ask, but i want to know what’s wrong. i want to know if you’re alright!”
he shushed you, petting your hair once more to calm you down. but you were anything but calm, and yunho staying silent wasn’t helping.
“it’s silly,” he said, “something upset me and i just… i needed to know you were still here.”
it was something, you supposed, but it was also nothing at all. what were you supposed to take from that? that he was scared you wouldn’t be at home? why would he think that? did he think you were in danger? did he think you’d left him? it made no sense, and it left you with more questions than answers.
“yunho…” you sighed.
“i know,” he answered, “its not really an explanation at all, is it.”
“no.”
he chuckled at how straightforward you were being. it was endearing, in a way, seeing you so so worried about something that despite his reaction, yunho would admit was small. so small, in fact, that he felt as though it was a little embarrassing for him.
“if i tell you, will you promise not to laugh,” you nodded against his chest, “and you have to promise not to get mad, too.”
that one takes a little longer to agree to, but eventually you nod. you wanted to try your hardest to understand why he was acting so strangely, and getting mad wouldn’t help in the slightest.
“go ahead, babe.”
he took a deep breath in, releasing it, along with some of his nerves, almost immediately.
“mingi’s girlfriend left him,” he said. you furrowed your brows, “they seemed so happy together and she just left him with no explanation and he was hurt and confused and it just got me thinking about us.”
“wait! you don’t think i’d do that to you, do you?” you frowned. you didn’t like the idea that he thought so lowly of you, but you’d already agreed not to get upset. you’d let him say his piece before starting all out war over the preposterous accusation.
he sighed again.
“not at all,” he said, “it just got me thinking about what would happen if, god forbid, this didn’t work out and i guess i just… panicked.”
your mind went blank for a second. not for any reason other than the fact that it wasn’t right. yunho was the level headed one. you’d never known him to panic. yet there he lay telling you that of all things to make his anxiety spike, it was the thought of you leaving him.
“you… panicked?” you said, slowly. he nodded, “no, i mean… you panicked.”
he chuckled lowly.
“yes, honey,” he laced his fingers with your hair once again. his nails scraped gently against your scalp and you couldn’t help the contented moan that left your lips, “i panicked. my brain always goes a little haywire when it comes to you.”
that made your heart skip a beat. the knowledge that you could make him dizzy in the same way he did with you was something that you never knew you needed.
“mine does too,” you admit, a bright smile breaking through the confused frown. yunho thought you looked like an angel as you lay on his chest grinning like the cheshire cat himself.
“guess we’re both a little crazy when it comes to one another, huh?” he tilted your head up so he had access to your lips. he lay a small peck on them before pulling back with a tiny smile, “but now you’re here in my arms and you’re not leaving me and i know everything is okay, okay?”
“okay…”
“i love you,” he pecked your lips once more, and then again, and then one final time, “i love you so much.”
you chased his lips, making him chuckle and ruffle your hair. he gave in and let you give him one last kiss. it lasted a little longer than the pecks he’d previously given you, and by the time he pulled away again, you were satiated.
“i love you too.”
363 notes · View notes
warmau · 4 months
Text
☆ commission: cat cafe!au x lovestruck!au juyeon note: you're the lovestruck one in this
you're not sure when it starts
maybe the day you get silver in, the skinny grey tabby who skittishly avoids every patron, settling into a small ball of fur on the top perch of one of the cat trees
the only human allowed to handle her is juyeon, who talks to her quietly and soothingly and who can hold her in the palm of one hand
maybe it's the weekend you get a whole group of university girls - colorful and loud - flirting endlessly over cat treats and milk tea with juyeon because he's nice and doesn't know the difference between friendly and a little too friendly
or maybe there isn't a way to pinpoint the beginning of your feelings because they've just been inside you for so long that the root is impossible to trace
you look at juyeon from over the register, watch him pick up cat toys and empty glasses from customer ordered drinks
you notice him stop for a second to let silver take a tentative few steps toward him before she's nudging against his ankle with her small head
and you just............feel.................warmth
he turns to call out to you, and your eyes drop down to the counter because ever since it - whatever this is - started
you cannot fathom ever letting juyeon know
"do you still want me to go out and buy litter today?"
you glance at the clock on the wall, shaped like a cat, tail swinging languidly
"it's almost nine so i'll just do it tomorrow when i open."
"sure." he smiles and your chest gets all toasty with adoration "don't pick anything too heavy."
on your way home, you scroll aimlessly through your photos to check which brand to get in the morning when your finger stops on one photo in particular
your first week at the cat cafe
the owner is posing next to you with a big grin, to his left is eric who is doing an enthusiastic v-pose, and then to your right is juyeon
he's wearing a white tshirt underneath his apron, black hair pulled back under a baseball cap, blue jeans and sneakers
he doesn't even try and still manages to be the most handsome man i've ever seen
the train jolts and your finger leaves the photo, scrolling up to some other photo
this one is just you, taken by a friend at some outing
does he look at me at all? does he look at me the way i look at him?
you lock your phone and sigh, these feelings inside of you can continue to grow but you are sure you won't ever let them bloom into anything. especially not something juyeon can ever see.
the next morning, you find yourself in a match with the twenty-five pound bag of litter
you had lifted it at the nearby store and thought to yourself, incorrectly, that you would make the trek back to the cafe with no issues
half a block you had been puffing - dropping the bag as carefully as possible to the sidewalk
"one of the cats is twenty five pounds, why does this stupid bag feel like it's a hundred?"
you catch your breath as a long shadow suddenly obscures your own
"i knew you would overdo it."
you straighten up and see juyeon
"juy- your shift doesn't start till three in the afternoon?!?"
he surveys the bag and the little beads of sweat on the side of your face.
without a word, he picks up the bag and throws it over his shoulder like it's absolutely nothing
"i'll help you bring this in." he outstretches his free hand to you as if to ask if you need help getting stable
you shyly shake your head and he waits as you adjust
the walk to the cafe is quiet.
it's early, and the start of the weekend, so shops are opening but there isn't a crowd yet
"don't be scared."
you freeze - don't be scared? did i mishear him?
"sorry?"
juyeon's expression is unreadable when you look at him for confirmation
his clean skin and pretty eyes radiate calmness. his lips in a slightly upturned curve.
"don't be scared to ask me for help. you've been at the cafe for a while now, the cats like you and i-"
you......like me..........too?
"and i appreciate anyone who is fond of cats like i am."
oh. right.
you laugh awkwardly, covering your mouth out of habit.
"ok, i will. sorry to bother you before your shif-"
juyeon's long fingers wrap around your wrist and you stop in the middle of the street
gently, as if he's handling a kitten, he pulls your hand from your face
"you should never hide your laughter."
it's random, uncalled for even - people don't just say things like that in the middle of a conversation
but juyeon does it as if it's the most normal reaction
and he just blinks when you stare back at him - heart hammering in your chest
"r-ri-right, i won't. but um - will you go back home since you're not scheduled till three?"
juyeon shrugs and you two resume walking
the store is on the next block and when you get to the door, juyeon shifts the bag from one shoulder to the other
"do you need any help opening?"
you fumble with the key, the feeling of his gaze makes you a little dizzy
"n-no i think i have it. you should go back home and get some more sleep."
he nods and follows you inside, placing the litter by the door
without another word to you, he enters the part of the store where the cats are
you pretend to busy yourself with organizing the little chairs in the cafe section, but secretly you watch as he heads right toward the little corner that silver has made her home in
he stands there - seemingly checking if she's awake - and you see him outstretch his hand
always so patient, no wonder she picked him as his favorite. i would too.
you shake your head at the thought, as if to get it out of your head, busying yourself with the usual duties
juyeon emerges a couple of minutes later and waves at you as he opens the door
"i'll be back at three."
"ok!"
and nothing else.
you realize only after it's quiet and you're all on your own again that you didn't get to ask juyeon what in the world he was doing here so early
was he jogging around the neighborhood? did he get up early to go to the same pet store...for a pet he doesn't have? or ........ or........ had he been thinking about you?
you bite back your lip, wondering if its selfish to even have the thought
the thought that juyeon, perfect juyeon, everyone's crush juyeon - could possibly have been laying in his sheets this morning and thinking about going out to check on you
as if to answer you, you hear a loud and annoyed meow
"right. breakfast."
you mumble and let your thoughts about what could or could not have happened this morning find a shelf in the back of your mind
three o'clock comes by even faster than you expect
juyeon comes in, followed by always energetic eric
before you even get a chance to greet them - eric comes bounding toward you with shining eyes
"i heard you totally couldn't even lift ten pounds of litter this morning!"
you deadpan at him, "it was twenty-five pounds."
he shakes his head, hands on his hips, "job requirement says you have to lift fifty pounds or more! i'm telling the boss!"
an obvious joke, you roll your eyes, but juyeon furrows his eyebrows as he joins you
"eric - don't tell the boss that. i don't want them to get in trouble."
you and eric both look at him a little dumbfounded, trying to find a hint of sarcasm in his tone
but juyeon is completely genuine. as he always is.
eric burst into laughter, "dude! i was just playing, teasing!"
he shoves into juyeon's shoulder, who just sways with surprise
"oh."
you giggle, lifting your hand up to your mouth again, but stopping - remembering juyeon's soft voice in the morning
you should never hide your laughter
juyeon's eyes waiver for a moment, from your awkward hand to your lips, or maybe you just imagine it
because he turns and lets you deal with eric's presence by yourself as he lets himself into the cat enclosure
as eric talks a million miles a minute and you help a group of new customers, you second guess the events of the day in your head again
there's no way he would go out of his way to see me this morning. it was just a coincidence. it has to be just a coincidence. juyeon has never shown any kind of interest toward m-
"oh shit!"
the exclaimed voice belongs to eric, who pushes past the register and approaches you with big, sparkling eyes
which can only mean one thing
"can you cover the rest of my shift? pleaaaaaaaase!"
you huff, "why?"
he tries to make himself all cute and sweet, "it's an emergency! for reaaaaaaal! i promise, i'll owe you!"
you don't know how much you believe this 'emergency' - and you've been here since the early morning.
you're tired, you don't even have tomorrow off, and you were looking forward to catching the latest episode of a drama you've been into
but
the cat enclosure opens, and juyeon walks out. behind him is a customer that's clearly starstruck by him.
"let me go get the adoption form." juyeon tells them and the big, fluffy orange cat in his hands purrs
the customer nods and as juyeon passes you and eric, he lifts the cats paw in acknowledgement
how is he the cutest person ever.
"so will you do it? i'm sorry to ask but i gotta go like now if you can!"
another...what....four hours with juyeon? till closing?
"fine. but you're taking my early morning next week."
"deal!" eric is already undoing his apron and rushing toward the back for his stuff
juyeon only registers that you're still here about an hour later.
busy with the adoption procedure, when he waves off the customer with their new pet, he turns and his eyes widen innocently
"i thought you left?"
"eric had an emergency."
concern overtakes the look of shock
"have you taken a break yet? did you eat?"
you remember the sad excuse you had for lunch and shake your head
"sit down, i'll take care of everything till closing."
the way he says it - the words are clear, calm like midday waves
"it's ok -"
juyeon is already pulling a chair from the cafe area behind the register
you sit only because juyeon doesn't seem to look like he's going to move if you don't
"we need to clean before we clo-"
"i can do it." he leans down and for a second the world stops. his face gets so close you can smell whatever detergent he used on his tshirt.
picking some lint from your apron strap, he straightens up.
you feel like your head spins back into a moving world
cutest person ever, with no sense of personal space. great. i pick the best ones.
"the cats were good today. it won't take long."
you make yourself a cup of water and take one of the candy bars from the front to nibble on as you wait for the last party of people to finish playing with the cats
juyeon floats back and forth between helping inside and making the odd drink order
you get up to help and he just points at the chair without a word
stuck there, all you can do is observe
usually you do it in secret, only flinging little peeks over at him when you think he's too distracted
but today - you just watch. and juyeon let's you.
whenever he catches you, his lips curl into just the smallest smile or he asks if you're ok and need him for anything
it's oddly intimate
finally, with the crowd gone, you tally up the cash in the register and juyeon wipes down the tables
he disappears for a moment only to come over to you with a small ball of fluff in his hands
"silver?" you ask, looking at the familiar white stripe down her back
juyeon nods and use one finger to caress her, she mewls and tucks her head into his skin
"she doesn't trust me yet." you say with a sad smile "i think you're the only one she likes right now."
he steps closer and outstretches his cupped hands
"she might hiss-" you start, but juyeon shakes his head as if he's well aware that she won't
"she's comfortable with you." he states like it's a fact "the person she's still timid around is eric because he's......"
juyeon pauses like he's embarrassed to say something mean about another person
"he's loud." you finish his sentence, adding a - "but he's just born that way."
you take in a small breath and lean closer, silver wiggles in juyeon's hands and turns to face you, big blue eyes borrowing into your own
when you let the pad of your finger grace the top of her head - she blinks slow
and then tucks herself back into juyeon
"see, she doesn't mind it." he looks at her with a fondness juyeon seems to reserve only for animals
his usual look of soft uninterest is gone, his eyes are full of care and love
you hate to admit the pang of jealousy that circles around your heart as he takes silver back to the other cats
is there a person in your life that you look at with those eyes? are they the luckiest person in the world?
juyeon waits as you lock the door, and he's still waiting when you're done and start your walk toward the train
"don't you live in the other direction?"
you start and then realize that that might sound weird, but, as always, juyeon seems unaffected
"it's dark out so i'll walk you to the train. you worked almost twelve hours so i'm worried."
you shake your head, stopping on the sidewalk
"no - it's ok, really! i don't want you to have to make the walk there and back-"
juyeon blinks at you slowly, for a second he looks just like sleepy and comfortable silver
"i'll walk you. i don't mind."
you resume your steps just because you think protesting more won't get you anywhere
as calm and serene as juyeon is, you can never really win against him. like a rock - unnervingly silent and impossible to move.
half way to the train the silence makes your nerves bubble up to the surface and you spit out the question that's been nagging you all day
"wha- what were you doing near the pet store this morning?"
you hold the strap of your backpack tightly as the words come out
"were you on a morning run or-"
juyeon tilts his head from the night sky to match your gaze
"i was looking for you."
for a second time you bring yourself to a full halt
"so - you went there on purpose?"
juyeon's confusion is as clear as day on his handsome features
"of course? i knew you'd pick something heavy and so i got up early to meet you. isn't that what you do? when you care about someone?"
"c-care about someone?"
possibly one hundred thoughts race through your mind at once and a hot feeling starts to crawl up your neck
care? as in ...... as in care about me as a co-worker? as a friend? as a silly person in his life that he assumes (correctly) will make silly decisions - what in the world is he talking about?
juyeon puts his hands in his pocket and, for the first time in your life, you see him bashfully drop his eyes to the ground
"i - i care about you because i like you." he lets himself after a moment find your gaze "isn't it obvious?"
"........obvious........"
the word drops from your lips in stunned disbelief and juyeon gives you a smile that you commit to memory forever
"y-yes? aren't i always being obvious around you?"
you try to think of the time that you've know juyeon - that you've known the soft spoken, considerate, polite, a little dense but otherwise incredibly smart, perfect man you know and no. no not once has he shown any "obvious" interest toward you
"i mean, no? i'm the blubbering idiot that's obviously in love with you!"
it comes out on reflex and juyeon's eyes go wide to match the moon that hangs above you two
"oh- oh! you - you also like me? i mean...love me....?"
clamping your hands over your mouth - you lurch forward in a run
juyeon calls your name in surprise, but you can't even turn to face him
you wave your hand above your head
"i'll see you tomorrow! sorry!"
juyeon does the kindest thing possible and doesn't follow after you
you spend the entirety of the train ride home staring at your phone screen completely zoned out
aren't i always being obvious around you?
"we're both just dumb.....that has to be it......"
eric is smiling from ear to ear when you come in and you know that means one thing: juyeon told him everything
the second you put your things down, eric is pushing you toward the storage room and shutting the door right behind you
"you can't come out until you're dating!"
the words are swallowed up in your mind to the sight of juyeon standing there
he looks at you and his long fingers tap against each other behind his back
"i-"
"i-"
you both start and then immediately bristle like a pair of newly introduced cats
"i didn't know!" you blurt out, heart starting to pick up a racing pace in your chest, "i didn't know you also liked me so if it's ok with you-"
juyeon, to no ones surprise, wears his heart on his sleeve
"if it's ok will you go out with me?"
he bends down at the waist, as if he's thanking you and not asking you to date him
you were about to ask the same thing, but the absurdity of the situation just elicits a hiccupping laugh from you
"y-yes" you say, repeating it through giggles "yes, i will!"
you are about to cover your mouth again, when juyeon's fingers wrap around your wrist delicately
and you look at him, as he starts to laugh too
when you open the door - eric gives you two an expectants
"well?"
juyeon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out - so you put your hands up
"you said we couldn't come out till we started dating and well...."
eric's shout of happiness makes all the cats stir, soft meows and pads of their paws against the glass
you're not sure when this crush started - when juyeon's started either - but you're happy to know that somehow down the line your hearts opened up to each other like this.
162 notes · View notes
saintslewis · 1 year
Text
FACETIME
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black fem reader
summary: you're doing your usual rounds around the paddock and you decide to go meet some fans. One particular little boy catches your attention and after the interaction, you decide to call up his fav driver
saint's notes: a little drabble i thought of and i think it's so cute
taglist: @thisismeracing @certifiedlesbianbaddie
-
Deciding to take a break from the ever so busy Mercedes garage, you step out and begin your walk to anywhere your legs take you. The moment your sneakers touch the pit lane, you hear cheering from the grandstand. You turn your head, your braids swishing along with you just to see a few supporters pointing in your direction. From your eye sight, they couldn’t have been older than their late teens so you gave them a wave to acknowledge them and you could hear them cheer again, putting a grin on your face.
After deciding to make a quick stop to the car that you came in after Lewis, your boyfriend, had left the apartment. After scanning your paddock pass to get to the vip parking lot, you heard even more cheers from the crowd that stood outside that usually cheered for the drivers, team principals and any famous person who were going through the paddock gates. You waved at the fans who were recording you and deciding to get closer to them to sign whatever they had on them.
“Oh my, hi guys!” You greeted as you began signing stuff. “You look so pretty, Y/n!” Someone said, with you smiling and thanking them. “Is that the new Chanel F1 shirt? It’s so cute!” Someone else commented and you looked down at your shirt just to nod at them and thanking them again. After a bit of small talk with a few other fans and many selfies, you felt something touching your calf, scaring you until you looked down to see the cutest little boy with a red Mercedes cap on.
“Hi Miss Y/n!” He greeted you with the biggest smile and tried to reach out to you with his arm going through the fence. You gave the ecurity guards a look to tell them to not react at your next actions. You bent down to his eye level, creasing your shoes a little but you couldn’t care. “Hello there! You can just call me Y/n, what’s your name?” You smiled, holding his little hand through the fence and you didn’t even realise that people were capturing this moment.
“Matheo!” He said with a little jump. “Nice to meet you, Matheo! Where are you from?” You asked and looked up once you heard the mom’s voice above him. “We’re from the Dominican Republic but we’re in the uk now.” She expressed with so much excitement in her voice. Your heart warmed at the fact that the two travelled just to be here. “Are you guys okay? Just dm me on insta if you need anything.” You quietly said to the mom, who nodded her head with a smile.
“Mama! She looks like Auntie Annie!” The little boy pointed at you as you ended the mental conversation you were having with his mom. The mom, who’s name you’ve yet to know, agreed with her son as she turned to you once again. “He talks about this all the time whenever they show you on the tv.” She gushed, not quite looking into your eyes. “May I ask what your name is?” You asked her. “Maria.” The mom answered, with you noticing the accent switch a little when she said her name.
“Well Maria and Matheo, who are you here to see?” You questioned, focusing your eyes on Matheo once again as he kept touching his mom’s tote bag as if he wanted something. “We’re both here for Mercedes, mainly Lewis. And I’ve been a very big fan of yours so I’m happy to see you.” She gushed, making you give her a grin. You never really knew how many people supported you so to see someone openly show their support to you made you wanna tear up.
“Do you like Lewis, Matheo?” You asked the boy, who had stopped trying to get his mom’s tote bag and looked at you with his big eyes. He nodded enthusiastically as an idea popped up into your head. You grabbed your phone from your cross body bag and immediately went to the facetime app.
With a few rings echoing into the air, your lovely boyfriend finally picked up, utterly confused by the call because he swore he just saw you in the garage. “Babe? Where’d you go? I could’ve sworn you were with Susie.” Lewis responded.
“I was but now I’m by the paddock entrance and I have someone I want you to meet. How busy are you right now?” You pondered, hoping that he had a few minutes to talk to Matheo and his mom.
“Uhhh, not too busy.” He replied, seeing him walking then sitting down. You turned your phone to Matheo and Maria, who were stunned by who was on the phone. Hearing Lewis giggle at the boy’s shocked face, you had the biggest smile on your face as you looked over at Maria who mouthed ‘thank you’ multiple times.
“Hey little man!” You heard Lewis greet and the other supporters next to you guys were all watching this interaction.
Motheo’s demeanour suddenly became shy and it was the cutest thing ever. After a brief but extremely sweet conversation between Matheo, Lewis and Maria, the call unfortunately ended because Lewis had been called for an interview.
“Thank you so much, Y/n. You have no idea how much that meant to the both of us.” Maria expressed. You couldn’t say anything but you decided to hug her from across the barricade. “And we wanted to give this to you and Lewis. I didn’t think this would happen so I was prepared to keep it. It’s a few diy gifts from me and Mathi.” She gushed and you hugged her once again. “Thank you so much for being here and for travelling just to see us. And I am very serious about the dm thing.” You said, squeezing her hand and moving to Matheo a fist bump before you take your leave.
“Matheo, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You said, winking at the little boy who nodded again. “Bye bye Y/n.” He waved as you began to take your leave. Greeting a few more supporters, you decided to head back inside to be with Lewis, completely forgetting that you wanted to go to the car.
You called over a security guard after scanning inside. “Please make sure that the mom and son duo get to their hotel or airbnb safely and tell them I asked, okay?” You instructed, showing him Matheo and Maria. The guard nodded and you smiled at him as you walked away, holding the gift bag in your hand quite securely.
Once you reached the Mercedes garage, you immediately knew to go to his driver’s room because you had a feeling that he’d be there. “Hi my love.” You greeted as you watched him put his phone down and stand up to kiss your forehead then your lips. “How was your little trip?” Lewis asked, once you sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around you.
“It was so cute, oh my god. I just wanted to take a walk then I was gonna go to the car for a bit of my candy then the fans were being so nice to me and theeenn I met Matheo and his mom, Maria. It was just so cool to meet them.” You rambled and you didn’t notice how he had been admiring you as you spoke.
He loved how enthusiastic you were whenever you told a story to him. “And they got us a gift.” You finished, lifting the gift bag into face view and Lewis definitely looked excited to open it. He carefully removed the gift tissue paper and set it aside, not forgetting to mention that it was the perfect shade of purple.
Inside were handmade bracelets that had his racing number and your initials, beaded necklaces that had the same details as the bracelets, a Lego model of an f1 car and a couple letters from the both of them. The both of you gushed over the dedication and kindness from Maria and Matheo until it was time for Lewis to get ready for the national anthem then Qualifying.
Handing him his prada shades, he gave you the last kiss on the forehead then your lips as he left his driver’s room.
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wttcsms · 20 days
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Feel free to elaborate on this or write a whole fic or never think about this again but- I feel like people make Kageyama out to be this heavily awkward guy with no social skills but I think he has the potential to just SNAP, especially in the bedroom if he’s being teased a tad overboard or is feeling possessive and jealous. Like he just screams to me rough and dominating in the bedroom—a quiet doer guy Thoughts?
no, because it's kind of easy to get tobio all riled up. you don't even mean to provoke him, honest! it's just an innocent, teasing remark:
"wow, miya was doing really great at practice today!”
kageyama is silent, but you notice the slight pause in his movements before he resumes taking off his sneakers and tossing his gym bag to the side. he had invited you to watch him practice with the rest of the olympic team, and of course, it's because of your presence that fucking atsumu would want to show off.
you love tobio with your whole heart; it’s why you’re wearing a ring he bought for you, why his last name is going to be yours, why you’re heading to the kitchen to get dinner heated up for him. you don’t mean anything by your comments because you’re confident that no one could possibly be replacing him on the starting lineup. you just want to show him that you’re being a good fiancée, attentive and interested in his career.
“i think everyone was hitting all of his sets perfectly. like, a bunch of guys on the team were raving about how easy and effortless it is when he sets. that’s good, right?”
tobio lets out an irritated sigh as he follows you to the kitchen. “i don’t wanna talk about it.”
you can be such a ditz, y'know? when tobio gives you that exasperated sigh, with his little annoyed expression on his face, the way he eats his dinner in silence — you take it that maybe you've said the wrong thing, but you just don't know what. so you get to chatting up a storm to fill the silence, and somehow, it ends up with you reminding him of your high school days at seijoh. where you were a cheerleader.
where you cheered wholeheartedly for oikawa.
"you liked being a cheerleader?" you don't pick up on the sharpness of tobio's tone; you're just happy he's finally feeling up to speaking. so you give him an enthusiastic hum and nod, saying that you loved being on the cheer team and rooting for the volleyball team especially!!
and tobio isn't exactly a humble person. he likes hearing the noise of a crowd, a stadium full of people, chanting his name. it fills him with pride.
but a stadium full of fans screaming out "kageyama" is nothing compared to your little pleasure-provoked whines of tobio. you don't know what you did to set off your fiancé, only that the exhausted slump of his body after a grueling practice has disappeared. there's no way he's human; how could he possibly be fucking into you so deeply, so harshly, if he's supposed to be bone-tired?
tobio loves fucking in missionary. he loves the way he can admire your fucked out expression, how easy it is to plant kisses on your pouty lips and collarbone, how he can grab at your legs, make your calves burn with how he has you folded.
this is how you know he's upset. he's pounding into you with a vitriol-fueled vigor, and he's doing it from the back. you had let out a little yelp when he first demanded you get up from your chair, only to have him spin you 'round and bend you over the kitchen counter.
it's a bit painful; he's just so big, so long — he reaches places no one else has, has found all the spots that reduce you into a mushy, boneless, fucked out little mess.
"who does this cunt belong to?" he grunts out.
"it's yours! a-all yours, tobio. only yours!" it's so hard to speak when you're so close to cumming. he rewards your statement by rubbing rough circles against your clit, and the stimulation is enough to bring you to your release. you let out broken sobs as you cum, his thrusts becoming too much for your little sensitive pussy.
"sl-slow down, tobio, pleeease." but it's hard for him to take you seriously when you're clamping down on him like you don't want him to leave.
"thought i owned this little cunt, though? that's what you told me. are you lying?" he seems to pound into you even harder with every rhetorical question, thrusts getting angrier at the mere idea of you wanting anyone else to fuck you. "you're takin' my dick so well, though. are you just a whore, or are you my personal little slut?"
"yours, yours, yours." every time you say it, it comes out broken and hard to understand. you can't see him from this angle, can only admire the marble of the kitchen counter, but he's smiling.
"yeah? you're not oikawa's little slut?"
you shake your head, whimpering at the onslaught of pain and pleasure he's forcing onto you. "n-not oikawa's. not anyone else's." you let out a high-pitched moan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. "e-especially not miya's."
"i'm the only one who gets to see you like this. i'm the only one who gets to fill up this sweet pussy." he relishes in the way you keep on moaning his name, your cute whines of tobio fading into background noise as he tilts his head back, lets his release flow right into you, making a mess out of your abused cunt.
right when you think he's worked out all of his frustrations, right when your body finally relaxes once more, you feel him biting down on your shoulder, sure to leave a mark on your precious skin. he starts rutting his hips once more, and you know that you've just provoked him to the point of no return.
you're not complaining, though.
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