#and I feel like it’s too good for her you know
Text
god, it's brutal out here | r.c.
summary:
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of c*caine
word count: 5,4k
author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
I Wheezie
“Hey Wheeze.”
You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.
“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”
Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.
“Nice to see you too.”
The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.
“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”
“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.
“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”
You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”
“Bullshit!”
“Wheezie!”
Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”
“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.
“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”
You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.
“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”
“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”
Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”
“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.
“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”
“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”
“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”
Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”
“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”
“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”
“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”
Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.
Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?
Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good
Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.
Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.
Rafe [01/05/23: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?
Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you
Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.
Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone
You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.
Just incase.
II Barry
“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.
“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”
Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.
Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.
“You good?”
Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.
“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”
“Work, or…?”
Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.
Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”
Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.
“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”
“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”
“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.
Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”
“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”
“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”
Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.
“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Boy, sit down.”
Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.
“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”
“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”
“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”
Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.
“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”
“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.
Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”
“Do you mean Wednesday?”
“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”
“Bex makes me happy.”
Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”
Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.
He wasn’t even convinced himself.
III Topper
top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come
mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know
—— NEW MESSAGE ——
top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?
It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no
Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying
Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten
top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3
Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.
You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.
“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.
You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”
“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”
Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.
“What did you say?”
“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”
You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.
“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”
Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.
“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”
“What?”
You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.
“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”
“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”
“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”
Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.
“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.
“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”
You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.
“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”
You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.
“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.
Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”
You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?
“It’s been six months.”
Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.
“… Do you think you guys will get back together?”
“He has a girlfriend, Top.”
“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.
“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.
IV Kelce
“Kelce!”
Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.
“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.
“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.
“Cheers to you.”
The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.
“Rebecca here?”
“Yeah, upstairs.”
Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.
“You know she’s here, too, right?”
Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.
“I figured, yeah.”
“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.
“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.
“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.
Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.
“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”
“Maybe next time.”
Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.
“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”
He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.
“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.
V Sarah
“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”
You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.
“I don’t have a problem with her.”
Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.
“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”
You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”
“Hello?? That was super freaky.”
“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”
Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”
“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”
“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”
You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.
“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like you hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.
You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.
“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”
Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.
“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”
“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”
“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.
You only sighed, starting your car in silence.
“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.
“Yes.”
BONUS + I Rafe
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.
“Sorry, were you saying something?”
“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.
“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Something like that.”
Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.
If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”
“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.
“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”
Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.
“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”
Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.
“Do you love her?”
Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”
“See. Problem solved.”
Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.
“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”
“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”
“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”
BONUS + II You
You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.
For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.
The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?
God, you shouldn’t be doing this.
“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.
“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”
You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.
“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”
The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”
You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.
“You’re still worried about me.”
You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”
“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”
“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”
Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.
“Rafe.”
Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”
“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.
“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”
“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”
“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”
“What?!”
Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”
“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”
Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.
“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”
“Rafe…”
You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all to familiar.
“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.
“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”
Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.
“Rafe, I don’t know… “
“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”
You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”
“Why? Because you do?”
“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”
Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”
You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.
Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]
Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.
Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!
Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!
Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#outer banks#obx#outer banks fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Avergonyit - An Alexia Putellas Imagine
Not requested, just a little idea I had as I emerge from my woho brainrot and get back into woso
R moves to Barcelona and tries to learn Catalan, what happens when she hears her girlfriend Alexia teasing her about her pronunciation with the team?
I don't speak Spanish or Catalan so I apologize if anything's incorrect I did my best
It probably wasn’t the best idea, moving to Barcelona without knowing any Spanish. Y/N hadn’t planned on transferring, but when Barca Femini makes an offer, well, it’s not like Y/N could refuse. It all happened very quickly, the offer coming towards the end of the transfer window, not leaving Y/N much time to prepare. It really was only a few weeks between the offer coming in, and Y/N landing in Barcelona. She’s extremely grateful that the team got everything set up for her in Barcelona, so Y/N didn’t have to worry about trying to find an apartment or any of those things during the whirlwind of packing and moving across the globe to a place she’s never been.
Needless to say, Y/N’s Spanish was very bad, at least at first. It was a challenge, trying to find her way to the training centre, the nearest grocery store, when she’s not able to ask anyone for directions. Add on that most people speak Catalan anyway, any rudimentary Spanish Y/N could muster didn’t do much for her.
It got easier, the longer she’s here. The team speaks a mixture of Spanish and Catalan, but most speak English too, or at least enough English that Y/N can talk to them. She picks up words and phrases, mostly football terms, since that’s what she hears most often. She��s able to understand what the coaches yell at the team on the field, most of the time, and she finds the areas of the city where people speak English and she’s settles in as well as she can.
What really helps her settle in is the team. Y/N bonds with the other non-Spanish players, them being the first ones she could really speak to without needing someone to translate everything. As time goes on, Y/N finds herself gravitating towards Alexia more and more.
Alexia, as captain, took it upon herself to make sure Y/N was settling in well, and the two hang out outside of training as Alexia gives Y/N a tour of the city and takes her out to her favourite restaurants and coffee shops. The more and more they hang out, the more and more it stops feeling like a captain trying to help a new teammate settle in. Y/N isn’t really sure what to make of it, she knows the ways she’s starting to feel about Alexia, but she’s not sure about Alexia’s feelings.
Things really shift after a tough game, a hard fought win, when the team, despite all being exhausted and sore, decide to go out to a club after. Y/N’s having fun, laughing and dancing with her teammates, and she takes a quick break from the dancefloor to get a drink from the bar. She’s sipping her drink, watching her teammates, when a body slides up next to her.
“Hola carinyet,” Alexia says. Y/N smiles as she turns to Alexia. She’s asked before what the nickname means, but Alexia just smiled and told her not to worry about it.
“Hola Ale,” Y/N says.
“Very good,” Alexia says, “Soon you will be speaking Catalan better than me.”
“I just said hello,” Y/N says. She notices suddenly that both her and Alexia have been leaning towards each other and now Y/N can clearly smell the scent of Alexia’s perfume. Y/N’s distracted by it that she misses what Alexia says next. She zones back in as Alexia laughs and places her hand on Y/N’s arm.
“Do you want to get some air?” Alexia asks. Y/N nods. She quickly downs the rest of her drink and follows Alexia outside.
The air is cool, much cooler than it was inside and Y/N shivers involuntarily. Alexia leans casually on the wall, watching Y/N with a look of amusement.
“What?” Y/N asks.
“Nothing, ets bonica.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Y/N says.
“Vull fer-te un petó,” Alexia says in response.
“Ale…” Y/N whines, “Stop bullying me, you know I don’t know what that means.”
“It means,” Alexia takes Y/N’s hand and tugs her closer, “I want to kiss you. Is that okay, carinyet?”
“Oh.” Y/N breathes, surprised. Alexia doesn’t falter, stays where she is, the same easy confident look on her face as Y/N processes her words. “Yeah. Yeah. You can.”
“Bona.”
After that kiss, and the next morning where Y/N woke up with a hangover in Alexia’s bed, they’ve been inseparable. They’ve been dating ever since and Y/N couldn’t be happier. Alexia makes her feel so happy and content and loved. They’ve had a few bumps along the way, but nothing very serious and nothing that isn’t fixed easily.
“Hola lovebirds,” Mapi says as she and Ingrid walk into the locker room. Alexia rolls her eyes and Y/N sticks her tongue out.
“She’s in some kind of mood today,” Ingrid says as she sets her things down in her locker.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it amor,” Mapi says.
Y/N smiles as she listens to her teammates. She really loves it here and she loves listening to her teammates tease Mapi and Ingrid for being grossly adorable. That, and whenever they tease Mapi they don’t tease Y/N and Alexia.
“Ale?” Y/N says while the team is semi distracted, “What do you want to do, uh, després de la pràctica?”
Since they started dating, Y/N has been trying to learn Catalan. It’s a slow process, but she has managed to pick up a lot of words and phrases and ‘after practice’ is one of them. Y/N speaks Catalan more at home when it’s just her and Alexia, mostly because she’s still not confident in her skills. She’s trying to speak it more with the others, but she still can’t do more than basic sentences.
Before Alexia can answer, Mapi snorts.
“‘Després de la pràctica’” Mapi says, “A pronunciació no és important per a tu, Ale?”
“Està massa ocupada amb altres coses,” Patri says, wagging her eyebrows.
“What are they saying?” Y/N asks Alexia. Alexia hesitates in answering.
“Hey Y/N,” Mapi says, “Can you tell me what this says?” Mapi turns her phone to Y/N, a word, embarbussament, written in her notes app. It’s not a word Y/N has seen before, and not one Alexia has taught her, but she tries. As she stumbles her way through, the snickers around the room get louder.
“Are you sure you’ve been teaching her Catalan?” Patri says. “She’s worse than CGH.”
“What are you talking about?” Y/N says. Y/N tries to grab Alexia’s arm, but she doesn’t pay attention as she heads over to where Patri and Mapi are sitting and continues joking with them about Y/N’s pronunciation.
Y/N can feel the embarrassment building. The more the laughter builds, the more Y/N feels like crying. She’s been trying her hardest and Alexia has been, until now, so patient with her. Alexia has always praised Y/N for her Catalan, gently correcting her when needed, but always telling her how proud she is that she’s trying. But now, listening to Alexia laugh at her, Y/N wonders if Alexia really is proud of her, or if she just says that to Y/N’s face, and then makes fun of her behind her back. Along with the embarrassment and humiliation she feels, Y/N also feels betrayed. Alexia knows how nervous she is to speak Catalan in front of the team, terrified of making a mistake. Y/N always thought she would Alexia in her corner, no matter what, but now Y/N realizes that was never true.
***
Y/N stops speaking Catalan after that.
She still wants to learn, but after what happened, she can’t bring herself to try again. Alexia keeps asking if she wants to practice her Catalan, but Y/N says no every time. She’s not going to give Alexia anything else to make fun of her about. Y/N starts to distance herself from Alexia. It’s not intentional and not what she wants, but whenever they’re together, Y/N can’t help but remember how she felt hearing Alexia laugh at her.
“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head.
“I’m pretty tired, think I’ll just stay home.”
“I don’t mind staying in,” Alexia says, “We can order something or I can cook something for you, carinyet.”
“If you want to go out, then you should go out. I’m sure you can find someone who wants to grab dinner with you. I’ll be fine.”
“Y/N…”
“Just drop it Alexia,” Y/N says, “Go have fun with your friends, I don’t care.”
Alexia doesn’t go out, she orders food for them both and they eat in silence. Alexia tries to make conversation, but Y/N stays quiet. After they finish eating and cleaning up, Alexia grabs Y/N before she can go sit by herself.
“What is going on? What’s wrong?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me. I know something is wrong, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Why?” Y/N mumbles, “So you can go laugh about it with Mapi and Patri later?”
“What?” Alexia says, “What are you talking about? What do they have to do with anything?”
“You were making fun of me!” Y/N says, feeling tears spring to her eyes, “The three of you, you kept making fun of me.”
“When? What are you talking about?”
“You were being mean about how I speak Catalan. You were being mean. I felt so embarrassed,” Y/N can’t stop the tears falling. “I’m trying my best and I know I’m not good and I know I screw up but it’s not like I grew up speaking it like you! You know how nervous I am to speak it and you were mean to me about it.”
“Bebita, we were just teasing. We weren’t trying to be mean.”
“It wasn’t funny!” Y/N takes a shaky breath. “You embarrassed me, Alexia. In front of the whole team. I felt so stupid. I feel so stupid. You keep saying all these things about how proud you are of me and how well I’m doing and then you let everyone make fun of me and you join in yourself!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset,” Alexia says, “I am proud of you and I am impressed by you learning Catalan and I didn’t mean those things I said. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. I love hearing you speak Catalan, mistakes and all, because it shows how dedicated you are. I love getting to share my language and my city and my culture with you. I’m so, so sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t proud of you, or that you are not the most wonderful, and amazing, and caring person I know.”
“It didn’t feel good,” Y/N says, “It made me feel like crap. My girlfriend being so mean to me to her friends, it doesn’t feel good, Ale.”
“I’m sorry,” The longer the conversation goes on, the more distressed Alexia looks. “Please, por favor, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Y/N shrugs. She doesn’t know.
“I promise that I will never make you feel like that again. Every minute of every day I will tell you how amazing you are, and I will never make you feel like you’re not the most incredible person. Te amo, carinyet, t'estimo tant.”
“I really want to believe you,” Y/N says, “I want to move on from this whole thing and forget about it, but I can’t.”
“I’m so sorry, I feel terrible. I hate that I hurt you. I mean it when I say I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I promise I will.”
“I know Ale.”
Y/N finally allows herself to fall into Alexia’s arms, lets her wipe away her tears. She lets Alexia hold her and comfort her and whisper apologies and comforting words in her ear. Y/N doesn’t know how they’ll fix this, but she does know that Alexia will never stop trying to make it right.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#woso imagines#woso#barca femeni#espwnt
565 notes
·
View notes
Text
His Lucky Star
Awhile ago I asked for sonamy headcanons (and I’m always hungry for more!) and I received the most beautiful headcanon from @hedgethemaze and I just had to illustrate it!
Thank you @hedgethemaze for the opportunity to draw your short story 😊
You can read Hedge’s original headcanon below the cut:
Sonic and Amy’s favorite nighttime pastime is stargazing 🌙⭐🌠👀
Amy enjoys making out constellations and discovering new figures drawn in the sky and would occasionally make up stories with them – She knows Sonic finds this a bit childish, but appreciates that he doesn’t let it show and listens to her stories, instead (even participating once in a while, throwing in some action to keep them from being too daydream-y lol).
Sometimes, looking at the stars would remind Sonic of Starfall Islands – of cyber space – of Amy being at arm's length yet, an entire plane of existence out of his reach. The thought makes him reach for her hand as they lay on their backs on the grass, with a whole new appreciation for the feel of her hand nestled in his - Amy, aware of the gnawing memory, would shift her hand and intertwine their fingers, successfully chasing the memory away.
And some other times, she’d say those stories are just bedtime-story-practice to tell their 'future' child/children, only to tease him because there’s nothing as amusing to her as watching Sonic go from cool blue to cherry red live in record time 😆
About stargazing - it occurred to me that it could be more than likely for Sonamy to catch sight of a shooting star.
Well, I imagine Sonic would notice Amy staring at the shooting star in silence, knowingly waiting for her to say something but then the star disappears from view and he'd say "huh... kinda thought you were gonna wish something for a sec,"
Amy, realizing what he means, would jump a little on her spot next to him, they'd still be holding hands, but she scooches over and rests her head on his shoulder.
"Oh! Well, actually," she rubs her cheek on his shoulder and her grip on his hand tightens "I have everything I could wish for already."
Sonic notes she's got her eyes closed, now more interested in the warmth their bodies are sharing amidst the nightly breeze. Sonic blushes, hoping in vane she doesn't notice his body getting warmer at her statement.
"What about you? Don't you have any wishes?" Amy is genuinely curious (she can feel his awkwardness, so she doesn't tease him 'this time').
Sonic looks away, the hand that's not being held by Amy scratches a very reddish cheek, taking a deep breath to cool himself, "Nah..." the shyness quickly evaporating from his voice and he braves returning her gesture by, ever so slightly, snuggling against the top of her head. Leaving Starfall in the past, to focus on the present, Sonic's already made up his mind. "I'm good, Ames."
#my art#collaboration#hedgethemaze#sonamy#Sonic frontiers#Sonic the hedgehog#Amy rose#starfall islands#sth#sonic trash#stargazing
890 notes
·
View notes
Text
to be worthy.
and impromptu mother's day fic in the sol-verse
it's a difficult day. and a weird day. but it's also a day for family, and for people stepping up to take roles they didn't have to. a day for love, really. angst. but also sickeningly fluffy.
You’d never second guessed yourself more than you were in that moment, parked outside the flower shop, watching people enter and exit the building. It was barely 7am, and you had been there for almost a half hour already. Just sitting. Just thinking.
Mother’s day. It hadn’t ever been your favorite day. No matter what you did or bought or made, your mom was never very happy with you. She didn’t want anything you could give to her. She didn’t even really want you around. She wanted Ingrid with her on the day, and she always made that very clear.
This year was obviously… very different. Different because you weren’t speaking to your mother, and you didn’t have to get her anything. You didn’t have to write lies down in a card about how much she meant to you, or buy a gift she’d throw out in a few days anyway. You didn’t have to do any of that; there was no pretending this year, and you weren’t really sure what to feel about that.
It was suddenly a day with no obligations, but then again… not really. Because if anyone in the world deserved to be celebrated it was Ingrid, and it was Mapi.
Ingrid was your sister. Mapi was your sister's girlfriend. You knew this. It just felt… inexplicably wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging all they had done for you, all they were doing for you. There was no… older-sister-acting-as-your-parental-figure-day. You were left with this sunday in may, a day that already made your heart ache. Now, you were terribly anxious, too. You didn’t want to overstep, nor did you want to… understep? Too little, too much. Not enough.
Logically, you knew that Ingrid and Mapi would probably be completely fine with anything you chose to get them. You weren’t feeling very logical, though, so you grabbed your phone, and called someone you knew would be.
“Hi älskling,” Frido greeted, suppressing a yawn. It was quite early for her to be answering the phone, but she wasn’t in the business of not answering calls from you. If you were calling, it was important.
“Frido, does Ingrid like flowers?” You asked, nervously cracking your knuckles.
“Flowers? Everyone likes flowers, Solstråle. Why?”
“I just… I wanted to get her and Mapi something, and I don’t know what to get. I don’t want it to be too much or too little, or ugly or stupid or something they don’t like and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable but-”
The words rushed out of your mouth like someone had turned on a faucet, and Frido sighed, now understanding what you were so stressed about.
“Hey, Solstråle, relax.” She interrupted. “Flowers are good. Ingrid likes daisies I think. And Mapi loves pink roses. It’s not weird, it’s not too much, or too little. They’ll be happy with anything, really. Don’t overthink it.”
“Right. Okay. Daisies and pink roses. I can do that.”
“I know today isn’t the easiest for you, but just try to remember-”
“I have to go Frido, sorry. Thank you, I appreciate you.” You said quickly, not really wanting to get into that at the moment. The Swede sighed, hoping you’d relax a bit as the day went on, and as you got a good reaction to your gift.
------
Dropping the flowers off at home, along with the cards you’d gotten, and fleeing hadn’t been your best idea in retrospect. The idea of being with them… when they say what you’d gotten for them and when they read their cards… was nauseating. Sickening. Horrifying. You wouldn’t be doing that.
You set everything up on the counter, grabbed Scout’s leash and Scout himself, and headed out the door, intending to spend the morning at a cafe just down the street. You had your computer and some school work to finish, which seemed like as good of a distraction as any.
Back home, Ingrid was lying awake in her bed, as she had been for a few hours. It was only when Mapi rolled over into her, her head clunking against Ingrid’s shoulder, that the Norwegian realized it was probably past time to get up.
“Morning.” Mapi grumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of her girlfriend’s shoulder.
“Good morning,” Ingrid replied softly. The single word, dripping with anxiety, was enough for Mapi to lift her head and blink groggily at the other woman.
“Something wrong?” She asked.
“It’s mother’s day.” Ingrid whispered, tears inexplicably clouding her vision. Mapi was sitting up in a flash, pulling the younger woman into her chest. Ingrid nuzzled close to the soft t-shirt Mapi was wearing, inhaling the comforting scent of the woman she loved.
“Mi amor,” Mapi sighed. “I know, it’s a hard one right now. You don’t have to call her, though. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can cancel lunch with my mom, stay here with Solstråle. We can pretend it isn’t mothers day.”
Ingrid shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “No, your mom deserves to be celebrated. We’ll go to lunch. I want to give Solstråle some space today, but I’m worried about her. And I don’t want to call my mom. That would be like… betraying my sister. I don’t want to speak to that woman. She doesn't deserve it.”
“Okay.” Mapi agreed, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. The Norwegian’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she relaxed into her girlfriend once again. “We’ll keep an eye on our Sol, and we’ll be quick at lunch. And you can have as many hugs as you want.”
“Can’t I always?” Ingrid asked with a small smile.
“You have a point.” Mapi chuckled. “I am going to go make you a coffee, be right back.”
With that, she rose from the bed, pressing a quick kiss to Ingrid’s lips, heading for the kitchen. Ingrid stayed in bed, worrying about you and how you’d act today, until she heard Mapi call out for her in a strangely choked voice. She was out of bed within a second, rushing down the hall towards her girlfriend.
“What?! What is it?!” Ingrid shouted, sliding in her socks on the wood floor into the kitchen, looking around frantically.
She saw Mapi first, staring with tears in her eyes at a little card that had the Spaniard’s name on it. She saw the two vases next, sitting precisely in the middle of the counter. One with daisies, one with pink roses. There was a card with Ingrid’s name on it on the counter, too, and it wasn’t hard for Ingrid to connect the dots. Her first concerns were with her girlfriend, though, who’s lip was wobbling dangerously, as she blinked rapidly down at the card in her hand.
“María?” Ingrid murmured. “Baby, are you-?”
Mapi blindly reached a hand out towards Ingrid, a hand that the Norwegian took. Gently, Ingrid rubbed her girlfriend’s back, reading the card over her shoulder when Mapi tilted it slightly in her direction.
María,
It’s mother’s day, and it didn’t feel right to let today go by without telling you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You allowed me into your home without a second thought. You met my stubbornness and hostility with love and kindness, and I will forever be grateful to you for that. You love Ingrid so deeply, and I couldn’t wish for a better partner for my sister. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be as good of a person as you are. I hope you like your flowers, and I hope you know how much you mean to me.
Love, Solstråle.
By the time Ingrid had finished reading, Mapi had turned in her arms, burying her face in the crook of Ingrid’s neck, and was sobbing quietly. They were happy tears, Ingrid realized. Emotional, but happy. Ingrid couldn’t do much but hold Mapi tightly to her, and press kisses into the top of her head.
“She means every word, you know? And she’s right. You are the best person I know, the kindest, the most loving. You deserve the flowers, María.”
That set off another round of tears, bringing a small laugh out of Ingrid, always astounded and impressed by how emotionally… healthy her girlfriend was.
“Damn you Engens. Making me cry.” Mapi huffed, using Ingrid’s shirt to wipe her tears away.
Ingrid took her girlfriend’s face in her hands, carefully kissing her lips. “Because we love you very much.”
“Cut it out, Ingrid.” Mapi complained, though she was smiling shyly. “Open your card, I want you to cry.”
Ingrid laughed, reaching for her own card, though she hesitated before opening it. Mapi had moved to get the coffees going, but turned to glance at Ingrid when she fell silent.
“Open it.” Mapi encouraged, turning away to give Ingrid space to read.
It was another little card, in your big handwriting, a bit longer than Mapi’s. Ingrid took a deep breath, trying to stave off tears before she even started reading.
Ingrid,
Mother’s day is weird now. It kind of always has been, but I’m sure it’s weird for you now, too. I hope today isn’t too difficult for you. You are a lot more to me than a sister. I’ve always looked up to you, always seen you as a role model. And I still feel that way. Now, though, you’ve taken me in and been so patient with me. More patient than I deserve. I feel safe here, with you. For the first time in a really long time. Safe and loved, in a way I had kind of forgotten existed. Ingrid, you changed my life. You saved my life, too. I’ve never felt very worthy of love or care, but it’s so readily available here. And if someone as good as you thinks that I am worthy of your love, your time, your attention, then I must be. At least a little bit. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to express how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you Ingrid. Really, just thank you. I love you very much, even if I don’t always show it or say it.
Love, Solstråle.
And now Ingrid was crying, and Mapi was abandoning the coffee to pull her into a tight hug, and you were walking in through the front door at just the perfect time. You had just barely unclipped Scout’s harness before you were being forcibly pulled upright into some kind of suffocating group hug.
And normally, something like this would have probably made you uncomfortable. You felt yourself melting into the hug, though, before you really knew what you were doing. Embarrassment flooded you. Regret flooded you. Because even though the hug was nice, you felt dangerously exposed. Dangerously vulnerable.
------
You insisted that Ingrid and Mapi go to lunch with Mapi’s parents and her brother, without you. Both girls tried to explain, while respecting your privacy as much as possible, why you had stayed home, although Mapi’s mother was rather insistent that she wanted you at lunch, too. You were part of the family, after all.
It was only when you were home alone, curled up on the couch with Scout, that the reality really hit, that questions you didn’t want to consider really started to flood into your brain.
Had they really liked the flowers? The cards? There wasn’t much time to talk, as they’d had to get ready for lunch, and both of them had clearly been crying. Maybe… maybe they didn’t really like what you had to say? Maybe you were putting pressure on them to be something they weren’t. It was so easy for you to spiral into self doubt when you were left to your own devices.
Should you have called your mom?
No matter how much time passed. No matter how many times Ingrid and Mapi told you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that she had been the issue. You were pretty sure you’d always blame yourself, at least a little. You’d spent so long thinking you were at fault, and that kind of thinking was hard to break out of. Knowing that you weren’t to blame, and really believing it were two different things. And something was easier about blaming yourself. Safer.
Maybe you should have called. Maybe you should take the first step. She was your mother, after all, and you only had one. You couldn’t help the guilt that began to suffocate you, the insecurity, the self hatred.
You wished you could just hear Ingrid and Mapi tell you that they loved you, that you were a good person, and believe it. You were kind of afraid, though, that you’d never fully believe that.
The best thing to do, the most logical thing, was to shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day. So you took Scout and some snacks and buried yourself under as many blankets as you could, tucked away in your room. A closed door between you, and the avalanche of emotions and feelings you’d let out earlier in your cards.
Too vulnerable. You’d been too vulnerable, and there was no taking it back, and that was terrifying. Being vulnerable in the first place wasn’t easy, but not wanting to die afterwards was even harder.
-------
Ingrid and Mapi returned from lunch to find the house dead silent. Your bedroom door was tightly shut, and when Ingrid peaked her head in, you had been pretending to be asleep. So, she headed for the living room, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, thought after thought running through her head.
Had she been too emotional with you earlier? Had you not really meant what you’d said in your letter? Were you just trying to be nice? Ingrid had learned not to push you before you were ready for something, and she felt like today, she had. She should have played it cooler, not made it as big of a deal.
And, fuck, she should have called her mom.
She shouldn’t have, but she should have, and there was no correct answer in her head. Either decision made her feel like she was being bad. A bad daughter or a bad sister.
And now she was being a bad girlfriend, because Mapi had been trying to get her attention for several minutes, and she’d been too spaced out to notice.
“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, this time reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend’s hand and squeezing.
“Sorry, sorry. I was distracted.” Ingrid said. “What?”
“I checked on Sol. She seems upset. You should go up there and talk to her.”
“No, no, today has been a lot for her, she has to process her emotions.” Ingrid said, shaking her head. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”
Mapi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly. The two of you were both hyper aware of the others’ feelings while simultaneously being too afraid to actually talk about said feelings. You needed each other, today, and Mapi was done trying to get you to figure that out yourselves.
“Enough of this. Vamos.” She stated decisively, standing up from the couch, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and pulling. Ingrid groaned her annoyance, but went somewhat willingly.
Mapi dragged her up the stairs, knocking on your door before entering upon your response. You were still on your bed, trying to hide the evidence of your almost constant tears, when Mapi entered the room with Ingrid in tow.
“Alright. Both of you need the other right now. Sol, Ingrid isn’t mad at you. Ingrid, Sol isn’t mad at you. Everything is fine. Stop overthinking.” And with that, paired with a small shove to Ingrid’s back, pushing the Norwegian in your direction, Mapi looked between you two expectantly.
You looked very cautiously, but also somewhat hopefully, up at your sister.
Ingrid looked at you similarly, taking a hesitant step closer to the bed. “What do you need, Solstråle?” She asked, determined, at least, that you get better about asking for what you needed. If it was space, she'd respect that. And if it was a hug? Well. Good. Because she really needed one too.
You shifted slightly, lifting one of your arms in a half gesture. “Sit with me?” You requested.
Relief flooded Ingrid’s face as she all but launched herself onto the bed next to you, instantly pulling you into a tight hug. You were relieved, too, that you hadn’t been too much for either of them. That your love in return wasn’t too much. Your mom had always made you feel like it was suffocating, the way you tried to get her to pay attention to you and love you.
Ingrid and Mapi never did that. They just… gave you what you needed, without a second thought. Before anything else. As you sat squished in between the two of them, listening to all the details from the lunch you’d skipped, you realized that all you’d needed today was Ingrid. Being with Ingrid and Mapi made your head go quiet. There wasn’t room for doubt when they were on either side of you. Mapi trying ridiculously hard to make you laugh. Ingrid combing her fingers through your hair without a second thought.
You fit here, in this family. With them. They told you you fit, that you were wanted, and that was something that was getting more and more believable as time went on. You had a family, and even if you didn’t really have a mother to celebrate today, you had two people who put you before anything else. People that loved you more than your mother had. You had a family, again. And that was really something to celebrate.
------
:) happy mothers day to everyone who celebrates, and to everyone that doesn't.
however you feel is valid. if today is hard, or if today is easy, there will always be tomorrow, and tomorrow will be even better.
<3
#woso imagine#woso x reader#ingrid engen x mapí leon#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#engen!reader#platonic reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#🍓☀️
533 notes
·
View notes
Text
andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here
18+
warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance
a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list.
He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying.
Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist.
“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him.
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up.
“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”
“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”
It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now.
“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”
“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”
“Alright. Got your phone handy?”
It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.
“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”
Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you.
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone.
He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself.
But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much.
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy.
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine.
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol.
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is.
“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”
He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her.
“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”
She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall.
“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance.
She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that.
But god, does he think about you like that.
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee.
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand.
Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought.
But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
“Found it okay?”
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her.
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse.
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom.
It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again.
But.
That’s all contingent.
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same.
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.
In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies.
Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him.
And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him.
The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back.
If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out.
Not again.
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can.
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is.
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too.
He sends you a text—the third message in a row.
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years.
I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
515 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.
username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES
↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN
username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?
↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced
username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!
username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all
↳username5 But they were never official
username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'
username6 my fav nepo baby <3
username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol
username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando
username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?
↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao
username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?
username10 He's rich? Lol
username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants
username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good
↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now
username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started
username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?
↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done
username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not
username5 Then why don't they make it official?
username6 that's not a question i can answer
username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait
↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait
username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life
↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
y/n's texts with Lando
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
username1 All men are the same I swear
↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando
username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you
username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK
↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭
username5 Do we know who the girl is?
↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time
username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman
username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)
username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship
username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(
↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool
↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect
username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again
↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better
username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?
↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby
username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes
↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass
username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire
yn_wolff posted on instastory
landonorris replied to your story:
↳mind if i join?
yn_wolff:
yeah lol don't join
landonorris:
i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?
hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?
yn_wolff:
with dad and susie
stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today
landonorris:
I see another man
who is he?
*seen*
y/n answer me who is he
is that russell?
fucking russell wtf is he doing there
he better keep his hands away from you
what the fuck why are u hugging him
yn_wolff:
i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit
landonorris:
what the fuck do you mean y/n
yn_wolff:
don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her
landonorris:
she's just a friend
y/n you're mine
she doesn't mean shit to me
don't show my texts to russell
yn_wolff:
Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto
landonorris:
girlfriend?
username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday
↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning
username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨
↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for
username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...
↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂
username4 What did he post?
username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story
username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao
username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up
username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"
username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George
landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀
view all comments
username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂
↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?
username3 get over it, it's your fault
username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀
↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George
username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭
↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls
username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?
username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted
username5 He immediately regretted hahah
username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?
username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty
↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy
username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"
username10 Very accurate lmao
username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it
username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that
username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law
↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually
username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes
username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn
username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao
username6 I love George for saving Y/n
username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match
username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU
username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George
username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded
↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option
username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that
↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us
username13 This is my old money dream
username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day
↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us
yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time
view all comments
username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry
lewishamilton Invite me next time!
↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!
↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf
username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that
username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL
↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!
username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it
↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando
username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol
susie_wolff 💝
↳yn_wolff 🩷
ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊
↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️
↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔
yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!
georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum
lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚
↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕
lilymhe Might as well be 😂
username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao
alex_albon Finally, no more secrets
↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?
username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂
username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...
username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person
charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂
↳yn_wolff Charles 💀
username5 Is he wrong tho
username7 I laughed harder than I should've
↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions
username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil
username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him
username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho
landonorris 👍
↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me
↳username4 THE AUDACITY
landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts
↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting
↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂
username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON
username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅
username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr
username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??
username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS
username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official
↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao
username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?
↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt
username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him
username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it
username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him
username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀
↳username1 Totally
↳username2 I can imagine it
↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)
username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂
username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him
↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 social media au#george russel x reader#George Russell imagine#George Russell smau#George Russell social media au#Lando Norris x reader#Lando Norris imagine#Lando norris smau#Lando norris social media au
618 notes
·
View notes
Note
just saw the price drama this morning + simon 'never felt the warm touch of a woman' riley and just had a thought👊
reader is ofc hesitant, but doesn't feel too threatened because as intimidating as he appears to be, he's just so—him. a bit better than price.
to me after reading it, he seems like the acts of service kinda guy or actions instead of words🤷🏽♀️
probably the latter.
in the end I feel like she'd just see him as this clingy overgrown touchy puppy.
like like, he just grabs her for another bath in the river and she goes "are we gonna bath again?" no response "ah, we are"
DNJSHSJA
simon takes REALLY good care of her, after all, she's a gift to him from the gods, right?
god I just want him 😡 let me nurture him and take care of him (he could literally kill me with his bare hands)
c/w: none really, mentions of groping, scars
he’ll never admit it, but he was terribly lonely before he found you. the main reason he’s so quiet is not because of the years of torture and trauma that he endured (well, partly) but because he just never had a reason to speak. who would he be speaking to?
sometimes he hurts you, never on purpose and never seriously. he’s just a big man who forgets his own strength so please don’t hold it against him. he doesn’t know how to ask you to do things so he just manhandles you into it instead
and when I said he’s never felt the warm touch of a woman, I meant it. it isn’t even necessarily sexual when he grabs your breasts at night, you’re just so warm and soft so he wants to touch you :( please let him
you can touch him too, if you want to. he won’t stop you when you trace the litany of scars scattered over his body. until your fingers dance a bit too close to a large jagged one on his ribcage, then he just tightly grips your wrist and moves your hand back to his chest
he makes you feel safe. hugging you tighter to his chest when he feels you trembling to the sounds of wolves howling near his hut. even though you haven’t known him long, you’re strangely aware that this big brute won’t let any harm come to you
#mw2#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#viking!simon
810 notes
·
View notes
Note
i hope this is how to send a request cuz this is my first time requesting anything. but i wanted to ask if you could do a story of spencer x reader of when he comes back home from prison in season 12? i don't know if i want it to be girlfriend and boyfriend or if they're married i don't really know, sorry. but i don't really mind either way. hope you can write something like this, thank you :))) <333
tysm for trusting me with your first request and sorry this took so long, it's also kind of rushed and I'm not too confident with it but I hope you like it <3
Home is whenever I’m with you
Category: angst, hurt, comfort, gn reader ~1.7k words
He’s back. Your boyfriend is back. There's a tangle of nerves in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of seeing him again, especially after all that’s happened. You get to hug him, to kiss him, to feel the softness of his thick, beautiful hair under your fingers again.
But not now. His mother is missing. Those are the words Emily spoke to you over the phone after she called to let you know he’s released. It’s ironic, to hear such wonderful news just to be followed by something so disheartening. And the guilt creeps in, that nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, if you had gone to visit his mom as planned, this nightmare could've been avoided.
“Do not blame yourself,” Emily adds, her voice is a lifeline in the chaos of emotions. It's as if she can read your thoughts, know exactly what you're feeling without you saying a word. “Just stay where you are, okay? I've got agents keeping an eye on your building. I'll keep you updated."
You're left with no choice but to accept. Your boyfriend may be back, but you still can’t see him.
And you get it. His mom comes first, always has, and always will. A child's love for their parents is unbreakable, and if you were in his shoes, you'd move heaven and earth to keep your parents safe. So, naturally, you do what any loving and supportive girlfriend would do—you wait.
And wait. And wait. And wait. Each passing second stretches into agonizing minutes, and those minutes drag on into long, uncertain hours. One skipped meal turns into two, and suddenly, you're lying in bed in the dead of night with an empty stomach. You know you should take care of yourself, but your mind is fixated on him.
What is he doing? Has he eaten anything? Is he taking breaks at all? Has he managed to get any sleep? And most importantly, has there been any news about his mom?
Your mind is racing, flooded with countless unanswered questions. You try to find comfort in sleep, but every ring of your phone feels like a cruel interruption, each time hoping it's him—or at least a word from his friends. But it's always a disappointment, just meaningless notifications and distant messages from your friends about mundane plans.
Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, but your sleep is restless, it's as if your mind refuses to grant you a moment of respite. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, at two in the morning, you're jolted awake by the familiar sound of a new message on your phone.
His mom is safe.
A sigh of relief escapes you, almost audible in the silence. You type out a response to Emily with trembling hands.
That’s good to hear. Is he fine?
Not great, but he's managing.
That's all you need to hear. His mom is safe, and though he's not doing great, he's managing well enough. With a weight lifted off your shoulders, you finally allow yourself to relax. At least now you can drift back into sleep knowing that he's partially okay.
You wake up again later that night by a rapid knocking. At first, you try to brush it off as just noise from the neighbors, but as you slowly come to your senses, you realize it's coming from your apartment.
Half-worried and half-curious, you reluctantly peel yourself from the comfort of your bed, your mind racing with possibilities as you approach the door. When you glance through the peephole, you're met with a sight that instantly jolts you awake. Without a second thought, you fumble with the lock and swing the door open.
And there your boyfriend stands, but he's a far cry from the man you remember. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his eyes, usually bright and lively, are now dull and tired, shadowed by exhaustion. He's dressed in his usual suit and tie, a combination you've always admired for its professional and polished look. But today, his shirt is half-tucked, half-untucked, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck
“Spence, what are you—”
Before you can finish, he bursts through the door, wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"I'm sorry," he breaks, his voice strained with emotion. "I—I wanted to come here as fast as I can—"
“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You wrap your arms around his waist and take in a deep breath. Despite his disheveled appearance, he smells exactly as you remember—warm, familiar, like home. “It’s all good, honey, I don’t mind.”
“It’s not alright. I should’ve answered your calls—”
“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupt gently, running your fingers soothingly down his back. “After all the time you’ve been away, a few more hours hardly matter.”
“Well, it should matter,” he mumbles against your skin, his voice muffled as he buries himself in the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like this.”
You hold him tighter, feeling his weight against you, his breath warm against your skin. “Shh,” you murmur, rubbing his back in comforting circles. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
He nods against your neck, his grip on you tightening as if he's afraid to let go.
“How’s your mom?”
He lifts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with tired eyes. “She’s... she’s okay,” he replies. “We found her. She’s safe now.”
You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief flooding through you. “I’m glad to hear that,” you say, cupping his cheek gently. “Are you okay?”
He hesitates for a moment as if considering the question carefully. “I’m fine, just… tired.”
Your fingers traced the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. “Let’s get you inside and comfortable, okay?”
He nods, and you usher him inside, relief flooding through you as you close the door behind you. Your fingers naturally intertwine with his as you guide him towards your bedroom.
“Do you want anything? Water, food?”
He shakes his head, falling into step with you. “Maybe later,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand. “How have you been?”
"Well," you begin, your voice filled with warmth. "'I've been keeping busy while you're gone.”
You lead him to the edge of the bed, sitting him down while you stand between his legs, your eyes meeting his tired gaze. "Work has been... work," you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “And I managed to put up the shelf I bought online. Look.”
You gesture towards the bookshelf nestled in the corner of the room and he follows your gaze. “You did that all by yourself?”
"Yeah, I did," you reply, your smile widening. "It wasn't easy without having you constantly nagging me how to do it, but I figured it out."
He nods, a hint of regret shadowing his features. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you.”
You shake your head, moving closer to him and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Don’t apologize.”
He leans into your touch, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings. His eyes, wide and brown, look up at you, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy—sad, yet undeniably endearing, with an innocence that melts your heart. You brush a thumb gently across his cheek, noting the subtle change in his appearance.
“You grew out your facial hair.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks as he shifts under your gaze. "Yeah, I guess I did," he replies, his voice tinged with self-consciousness.
You can't help but smile at his bashfulness. "I like it," you assure him. "It suits you."
“Really?”
“It’s growing on me.”
His expression softens at your words, a warmth spreading through his tired features. "Maybe I'll keep it.”
You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your lips as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He sighs contentedly as he leans into your chest, and you gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch.
"It's good to be back," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shirt.
"It's good having you back," you reply softly, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.
“I thought I was never going to see you again.”
"Why would you think that?”
He hesitates for a moment. "After everything that happened... I wasn't sure if I'd make it back to you.”
You gently tilt his chin up, meeting his gaze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods, his vulnerability laid bare. "I was also afraid that I might lose you,” he adds. “I was afraid you’d get tired of waiting for me.”
“Oh, honey…”
“Everyone I care for always leaves, sooner or later. And I can’t bear the thought… the thought of not coming home without you in my life,” he admits, his voice trembling with emotion and you feel a lump form in your throat as you listen. "I feel… so different right now. I don’t feel like my usual self, and I-I was afraid you wouldn’t like this version of me.”
You pull back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, your gaze locked with his. "I would never think any less of you.”
He sniffs, and that's when you notice a tear escaping down his cheek. Your heart aches even more. “I might not be the same person you last saw me.”
You shake your head, brushing away his tears with your thumb. "It doesn't matter," you reply earnestly. “You're still the person I fell in love with, and nothing will ever change that.”
He looks at you in disbelief, as if he can't quite comprehend how you could love him so unconditionally. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I see you," you reply. "Beyond the surface, beyond the changes, I see who you are—the kindness, the strength, the love that has always been a part of you. And that's something that remains unchanged, no matter what."
He exhales softly, his features softening as he absorbs your words. But you aren’t finished, not until he realizes how worthy of love he is.
“You’re still the man who loves silly magic tricks, you’re still the man who asks for jello every time we have dessert,” you tease, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He cracks a small smile at your playful words. “You’re still the man who loves books, who loves learning. You're still the man who loves helping other people.”
You lean closer, your breath mingling with his as your lips almost touch.
“And I’ll be the one to love every version of you,” you whisper. “The person you were, the person you are, and the person you're becoming.”
He grips your hips and pulls you closer. Without a word, you understand what he needs, what he's asking for, and you close the distance between you, your lips brushing against his.
You never truly understand the meaning of bittersweet until this very moment. His tears carry the saltiness of sorrow, but his lips offer a sweetness that lingers on your tongue. You feel the weight of his pain, the heaviness of his grief, yet you also sense a comforting warmth in the way his lips move gently against yours.
You can feel his uncertainty, and it’s clear that getting back into his old routine won't be easy after everything he's been through. But you’re here for him and you're willing to support him in any way you can.
Because he’s back. Your boyfriend is back. You can hardly believe you get to hug him, kiss him, and run your fingers through his thick, beautiful hair once more. You can’t believe you get to hold him again in your arms, and you hope to do so for a very long time.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
i've got you ꨄ oscar piastri
oscar piastri x best friend!reader
warnings: angsty, arthur leclerc is the villain, oscar is in love w/ the reader but wont ever admit it, no hea [963 words]
request: 💗 can i request oscar with prompt 6? please and thank you!! 😽[6. "I've got you."]
A violent sob ripped itself from your body, your hand clutching the phone in front of you, the incriminating photo in plain view as you tried to process what was so prevalent on the screen.
It had been so obvious that things were falling apart in your relationship, they had been for months. Date nights were cancelled, anniversaries forgotten, but you never thought he would lower himself to this. Never thought you’d be getting that ‘I think this is your boyfriend?’ text.
But here you were, trying to contain the feelings flowing through you, the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak.
He had told you it was a small trip with his brothers, it was offseason for everyone, the only time they really had to relax. The lie was staring right at you, Arthur’s hands gripping the ass of an unnamed brunette, his lips connected with hers. There was no denying that it was him, the video that followed showing the two of them pulling away from each other, an intoxicated smirk on the lips of your long-term boyfriend.
You didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know if it was worth sending the proof to him, whether you should call him and ask him outright or act like it was all fake. The emotions were running through you so aggressively, you hadn’t even had the chance to properly think through everything.
How could he do this? Why did he think this was okay? How can he tell you he loves you, and then do this? Were you not good enough for him?
The variety of thoughts continued to cipher through your mind. Your body was begging your brain to stop, begging it to give you a moment to get a grip on reality, begging it to allow you a moment to think clearly.
You barely heard the repetitive knock on the door, the noises mixing in with the unrelenting thumping noises clouding your ears.
Oscar had a key to the apartment, always had. He always claimed it was a ‘safety measure’ and he needed to have one in case anything happened, or in case he ever had to get you into your apartment after a night out.
Most of the time it was used because you weren’t answering a message quick enough, and he wanted to spend time with you.
He had been messaging you since this morning, offering to bring you pastries from your favourite bakery, asking if you wanted to get lunch, had asked more than once if everything was alright. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his eyes when he realized why you weren’t answering him.
You had been friends for years, longer than any of your other friendships, had known him almost double the amount of time you knew Arthur. He had tried more than once to explain how disastrous dating the Monegasque could end up, but his attempts were futile. You were too stubborn to listen to him, too enamoured to believe that Arthur could be anything except lovely.
There was barely a thought in his mind before he was making his way to your apartment, aggressively knocking on the door; practically begging to be let in. He knew you were in there, could hear the soft sounds of you crying through the door, his heart breaking with every vicious sob he heard through the wood.
It didn’t take him long to find his key, pushing open the door with a bated breath, unsure as to the scene he was about to walk into.
You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, your body having begun the process of curling in on itself, trying to savour any sense of peace it could gather. Oscar felt his stomach drop when he finally made eye contact with you, the puffiness of them so obvious, the tears still clouding your vision.
“Oh, love. C’mere, I’ve got you.”
A small whimper left your lips as he sat down on the couch next to you, gently tugging your body into his. Your hand clutched onto his shirt, the tears still falling from your eyes instantly soaking the material when you pressed your head to his shoulder.
“Why’d he do this to me, Osc? Was I not good enough for him? What did I do to deserve this?”
Every other word punctuated with a cry or a sniffle prompted a small grimace onto his features. The pit in his stomach grew worse and worse with every word that fell from your mouth, his own heart breaking again as he tried to console you.
“You’re more than good enough for him, I’ve been saying for years you’re too good for him. You didn’t deserve this, at all. He’s a piece of shit,” he said.
His hands continued to rub up and down your exposed arms, your tears subsiding as you melted into his comfort. The grogginess was still prevalent in your head, your eyes puffy, your brain still trying to get a grasp of what was going on; but all you could focus on was the calluses on Oscar’s fingers catching on your skin, the heave of his chest as he cuddled you closer.
He was always the first person there for you, even without having to pick up the phone and ask him to be. For him, you always came first, above racing, above his friends; he would drop everything he was doing and run to you if you asked. He would never admit that, though, ever.
“I wish it was you all those years ago, Osc. You would’ve never done this to me,” you said.
Oscar felt his own heart splitting in two. You were right, he wished it was him all those years ago, too.
i did NOT know where to go with this one!!!! so angsty and sadness it is!!!!! sorry!!!!
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri x you#f1 imagine#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri blurb#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 one shot#formula 1 blurb#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#op81#mclaren#requests#my writing#writing
432 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wimbledon || Leah Williamson
Based on this Request here. Thank you anon for sending it in :)
First of all, I don’t know anything about tennis or Wimbledon so this was a guess. Hopefully it works like this.
Warning smut, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, top!leah
Tennis had always been your life.
Your mum and her sisters had grown up playing tennis, and so you were bound to play it too.
Being the only daughter, niece and granddaughter, it was up to you to continue their legacy.
And that’s what you did.
You collapsed to the floor in happiness as the ball hit your racket for the final time.
After weeks of going through knockout stages, you had won.
After years of injuries and constant hard work, you had won.
Winning Wimbledon had only ever been your dream since the age of four, and here you were collecting the trophy from princess Kate.
Lifting the trophy up in the air, your eyes connected with your family, tears streaming down their faces, but there was another person who looked even more prouder.
Your fiancé, Leah, was sat next to your mum, smiling through the tears that welled in her eyes.
You blew her a kiss, Leah immediately blowing one back.
Once shaking hands with everyone, you made your way back to your designated changing room where you were met with Leah.
Leah had her arms open, waiting for you to jump in them.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” She mumbled in your hair, placing you back on the ground before putting her lips on yours. “Listen, your family wants to go out for dinner and they’ve reserved the table for 5:30 so you’ve got just under an hour to get ready.”
“Okay, perfect. God, I can’t believe I just won Wimbledon. I’ve dreamed of winning it since I was four, Le.” You tell her and once again, she envelops you in a hug.
“I know, pretty girl and I am so proud of you.” You connected your lips with Leah’s, the kiss becoming passionate very quickly.
“Here’s the star girl. Well done hunny.” Your mum walked through the door, you and Leah separating very quickly.
“Thanks mum. It’s all thank to you that I’m here today. Thank you.” You said, hugging her.
“It’s all you, darling. You’re here today because you worked for it. Now hurry up, you two stop kissing and actually get changed. I’m not having us be late for our reservation.”
————————
“Le, stop it.” You whisper to her, removing her curious hand from your thigh.
“Come on, pretty girl, I’m just resting my hand there.” Leah responded, putting her hand on the original place it was in before it started travelling.
You looked up and tried to join the conversation but was soon distracting by Leah’s lingering fingers travelling up your thigh.
“I — umm — Do you mind if I take a minute? Le, come with.” You stuttered, stumbling out of your chair, before practically dragging Leah to the toilets. “What’s up with—” You began asking Leah but you were cut off with her lips on yours.
“I just wanna show you how proud I am.” Leah said, separating your lips from hers, reconnecting them to your jaw seconds later.
You whined as Leah nipped at your neck, marking it gently and leaving light red marks.
“We’re gonna have to be quick, love, okay? Be quiet.”
Leah’s hands travelled down your body before reaching up your dress.
“Le, please. Please don’t tease.” You whined into her shoulder, resting your head on it.
“Don’t worry, love, I won’t.”
You felt Leah’s hand touch your clit and your knees buckled from beneath you, luckily Leah held you up.
“Good girl, keep quiet.” Leah said, circling your clit at a set pace.
“Oh god - Le, it feels so good.”
“I know it does baby, but keep quiet.”
“I don’t think I can, le.” You managed to mumble into Leah’s shoulder as moans escaped your mouth.
“Lift your head up.” Leah commanded and you obeyed, meeting Leah’s eyes.
Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours, Leah swallowing your moans.
“I’m close, le. I’m so close. Oh god - I’m gonna cum.”
You took ahold of Leah’s neck, pulling her into you so your lips were on hers, Leah swallowing all your orgasmic moans.
“I love you so much.” You told Leah, separating your lips.
“I love you too, pretty girl. We’ll continue this when we get home, okay? I’m gonna make you know how proud I am.” Leah stated, pressing her lips on your head as she helped you gain your balance on the floor.
“Y/N, Leah, are you in there?” You heard your mums voice say through the toilet door.
“Umm, yes mum, we’ll be out in a minute.” You said, stuttering some of your words.
“We’ll try leave early. I’ll come up with an excuse.” Leah told you with a smirk, opening the door and putting her hand in yours.
It was going to be a sinful night.
Requests are open :)
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#woso smut#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson smut
443 notes
·
View notes
Text
sniffles || barcelona x teen!reader ||
you try to hide your sickness from the team.
you weren't really sure what was wrong with you, but you felt awful. it was the kind of sick that would have gotten you off from school whenever you'd been living with your parents. things were a bit different in barcelona with alexia, but you knew that she'd make you miss practice if she found out. sometimes, you wanted nothing more than a break from everything, but there was a big game coming up and you wanted in the starting squad.
that was why you had woken up extra early to make sure that you looked healthy. alexia was none the wiser, even if she had given you weird looks for wearing makeup. luckily, she didn't quiestion it much since a few of the girls had been teasing you for your very obvious crush on another one of the younger players.
"don't take too long getting ready," alexia warned as she let you stop into the locker room. unlike her, you hadn't just worn a training kit in. but you also didn't like to literally start things off by running some laps. you thought alexia was crazy for warming up for her warm ups, but you suspected that was what she needed to stay in such good shape after her injury.
"oi, little chick, are you feeling alright?" ona asked as she stepped up beside you. the team liked to tease you for being wound up for certain things, and your posture was one of them. you were a stickler for perfect posture, unless you weren't feeling well.
"just a bit tired, ale woke up me up earlier than normal." it wasn't a complete lie. you reminded yourself to stay sitting and standing straight for the rest of practice. occasionally one of the other girls would come up and ask if you were alright, noticing that you did seem a little off. luckily, you could pass it off as being tired, but as the day dragged on, it was getting more and more difficult.
your cover had nearly been blown in the gym during the day's lifting session. since you were trying to build up a bit more muscle mass, you trained with the keepers. you had counted on sandra being protective in the motherly way that she always was, but you hadn't expected cata to be keeping such a close eye on you.
"drop the weight down and step away," cata ordered. she had been spotting you on the squat rack. you were still in the lighter part of things and definitely shouldn't have been making the wheezing sounds that you were. "you know the rules. are you trying to hurt yourself?"
"what's going on?" if it was just sandra or alexia, you could have gotten away with claiming that cata was just being mean to you, but when irene joined the group, you feared the jig was up.
"there's something wrong with (y/n), she's wheezing!" cata exclaimed. alexia reached out to feel your forehead, but you ducked out of the way. unfortunately, sandra was able to grab you and irene placed the back of her hand on your forehead.
"she's warm, but she was also going really hard today at practice," irene said. she glanced over at alexia to help decide what they should do with you.
"she's sick, probably with whatever bruna had last week," cata said. you sent her a nasty glare, but the older girl was unphased by it.
"how do you feel?" sandra asked as she turned towards you.
"i feel fine, maybe a little tired, but alexia woke me up this morning. i'd like to finish my workout please," you said sweetly. cata scoffed as sandra let you go. sandra, irene, and alexia all kissed the top of your head as they apologized for interrupting you. cata was obviously mad at you, so you walked over to finish your workout with lucy and the other defenders.
at irene's insistence, you kept things lighter. you didn't notice cata telling alexia to keep an eye on you, so you had no idea that alexia was watching your every move after your shower. she cursed herself as the two of you got home when you let the facade slip a bit. it was obvious with your makeup washed off that you were not well. she should have listened to cata the first time and made you go sit down.
"what game are we watching tonight?" you asked from where you had already curled up on the couch. alexia sighed as she glanced down at you. it was usually a hassle to get you to watch games, and as much as alexia wanted the win, she also wanted to instill good habits in you as well. there would come a day when you'd go somewhere that she couldn't keep an eye on you, and it terrified her a little bit.
"we can start watching a game later, i wanted to talk to you first. how have you been feeling today?" alexia asked you. she made sure to use her gentle voice, knowing that you didn't do well wtih being lectured otherwise.
"well, i've been a bit tired, but otherwise okay. did cata really get it in your head that i'm like, sick or something?" you tried to make it as believable as possible that you were feeling fine. one pointed look at alexia had you mumbling out the truth with tears in your eyes.
alexia sighed as she pulled you into a hug and reassured you, "you're not in trouble this time, but don't do it again." you nodded with your head against her chest. you did start crying, and soon the tears turned into a pretty nasty coughing fit. alexia was quick to get up and get you a glass of water and some medicine. she took your temperature and texted jona whenever it came back way too high.
"i don't want to miss the game," you whined. alexia didn't seem to care as she tucked you into the couch. "i've worked so hard to get to play. please, ale, i want to play."
"if you feel better by the end of the week, we'll see about you subbing on. that just means you need to rest up until then," alexia told you. you'd do anything that she told you to if it meant that you'd get to play in the game. alexia seemed to know that because she had you spending the week watching all of the game film and taking notes that you could manage. whenever she had to be away, she left you in the care of olga, who definitely slipped you more sweets than alexia would ever allow and watched tiktoks with you on the couch for hours at a time.
#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#teen reader#platonic fic#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#barcelona x reader#barcelona imagine
415 notes
·
View notes
Text
Last Name Dilemma
Yknow, this is purely for myself, happy me hating my last name. This is a yandere thing btw and please note that I am an artist, not a writer :,) so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes
I had this amazing idea. If you don't really like your last name and get sucked into the world of twisted wonderland, why not just get a new one? It's very easy when you have suitors vying for your attention at every corner of the school! 🤭
It all started in the cafeteria...
Of course they were overjoyed you thought their last names were cool, did this mean you indirectly wanted to marry them? Well the game is on, and they for sure will win.
Much to their displeasure though, rumors speads fast at NRC, with everyone else quickly getting to know about your lastname dilemma. They are not backing down, wanting to burn the world down just to achieve their happy ending with you.
Ace
Of course you would want to marry him! He is your first friend in this wretched school after all! (Deuce would like to differ on that statement but yeah)
Ace may not be the richest, smartest or most beautiful, but he is your best friend, (hopefully) your first choise and (will make sure to be) your first love! Guy is serious. He will also pull all sorts of dirty tricks against everyone else, you're his bestie to marry no one else's!
Deuce
Ah poor little Deuce. Guy choked on his food when he first heard you talk about how cool their last names sounded. You think his last name is cool? Does that mean that you like him too? You wanna date him, marry him? Be his forever?? He is feeding into his own delusions and your words are only making it worse.
As soon as he has finished lunch he will excuse himself and make a call to his mom and tell her the wonderful news on how you and him will definitely get married! (He just gotta get you a sweet, sweet ring that you deserve)
Cater
Cater being quick on the trends, he was even quicker on the rumors about you having no last name (and definelty needing one). He has such a cute last name, it would fit so well with you! <3
He is already dreaming up the perfect magicam wedding, to show off how the oh so wonderful you chose him, and no one else. He also dreams of the private moments after, how you'll hold him as he sobs his heart out, so happy you chose him. He hopes these silly daydreams will soon become reality, cos he can't wait much longer..
He also definelty overloads you with his clones, giving you so much love you don't need to turn to anyone else for that :)
Trey
When Trey heard the rumors he sighed, feeling bad for how overwhelmed you probably are with everyone else's proposals. Well, come to him whenever you feel like it's too much, he will always make sure to lktsen to your problems (he loves the domestic feel to just having late night chats with you in the heartlbuyl kitchen as he prepares another batch of sweets for the next unbirthday party).
He will make sure that his own proposal of marriage is short and sweet, and he is sure it will win you over, who wouldn't want his sweets all day every day? He will make sure to feed and love you for the rest of eternity if you chose him <3
Riddle
Riddle is messy, he wants you as his spouse and he kinda wants it NOW, since he feels like he deserves it. You're the perfect match to him, the king of hearts to his queen od hearts...
He will show off how good of a husband he would be to you, how he will take care of you with a stable job, how he will help you with all homework and make sure you get special treatment on unbirthday parties. If he sees anyone trying to propose why they should be yours and not him, well, you know his unique magic...
Jack
Wolves mate for life. Jack wants to mate for life. Who does he want as his mate? You. You have changed his life, and he does not want to lose you, please. He is territorial, liking how your name would sound with his last name, now he just gotta make it happen..
Ruggie
Ruggie feels desperate when he hears the rumors. Why would you chose him, when you have literal celebrities, prince's and high standing people vying for you? Then he remembers, he owes you. It's usually the other way around yes, bur he owes you somehow.
With this he cooks up the amazing plan of giving you his last name as a thanks for that one time. He also gotta introduce you to his family, he knows granny bucchi is gonna peer pressure you into accepting marriage with him...
Leona
Leona will not lose you. He has lost so much coming second to everyone he knows. He will NOT lose you to anyone here, he will fight dirty and kill for you if there's a chance he gets with you. He has the money to hire help to get rid of people too, and that same money can sway you into chosing him, since that deadbeat crow ain't giving you a liveable sum to live on.
He makes sure to capture you for naps whenever he can, making sure to leave his scent on you, enough so most people can smell how he has been on you.
Floyd
Eeh? Shrimps wants a good last name?? Well with his you could scare oh so many away, leading to an easy life for you! It also leads to a fun life with you and him, and there will never be a dull moment in his life with you by his side!
Just don't take his last name with his brother yeah? Get with him instead.
Jade
Oya? The prefect wants a last name? A husband too perhaps? Jade's smile widens as he plans out how to trap you into a wonderful marriage with him. Perhaps some of his new mushrooms in his terrariums will make you tired enough to get you to sign a marriage contract with him?
Just don't marry his brother instead of him, he don't really know how he would handle that..
Azul
Azul feels himself become of sp happy whenhe heard the rumors. Finally! You will have him corner you as soon as he can, sweet smile on his face as he offers you a golden contract of his. He crafted it meticulously, making sure everything in it would be perfect for the both of you.
He tries to butter you up so badly, please he just wants you to himself, is that too much to ask for?
Jamil
Jamil has to hold back to use snake whisper, but he has it in case you chose the wrong option (not him). He wants you, he does that to lose you to anyone, ESPECIALLY KALIM. He probably uses snake whisper against others, to sabotage, to do anything. He just can't lose you...
He definelty shows off his cooking and cleaning skills, showing how he can be the perfect househusband for you. Look how good you could have it with him...
Kalim
Kalim is manipulative about this. He mat not be aware of it, bur he sure is. He wants you as his (spouce) bestie, and he will get that. Guy has never gotten a no, and he will not get one now (he hope atleast).
Let him plan you a grandiose wedding! With food, clothes, venue, parades and so much more worth millions and millions of thaumarks. He will space no expense for you!
Epel
Why is epel so roughened up? Why he fought for your hand of course! Isn't it manly to show off that you can easily fend gör your love? He also loves loves LOVES the attention you give him as you fix him up.
He feels so proud of the fights he won, wearing the scars like proud medals, so please take care of them before they get infected- he will only let you do it-
Maybe he will get into more fights if he can get your heavenly touch as a reward..
Rook
Rook stalks you on the daily, so of course he got to work as soon as the words left your mouth. He will hunt you down, get your heart and love and live happily every after :)
He 100% gets violent as well, bur of course you won't see that side of him! He wouldn't want to scare you..
Vil
Vil is certain you will chose him. He is the fairest of them all (niege don't count he is ugly), that is what you deserve. He will take care of you, especially your appearance. You've sent how he is with epel, now get ready for double that...
He dolls you up, makes you the best version of yourself so he can show you off on his socials,to mush it into that dumb nieges face that THE vil had you and niege doesn't. He is the fairest of them all with you of course..
Of course, he is the only queen worthy enought for your love and affection, so please just marry him already, he wants a Photoshoot together with you...
Idia (plus Ortho being STRICTLY PLATONIC)
I'm sorry but have you read his ssr story? Guy doxxes over nothing lol. He will breach your security if you tell him no, he has lost so much already, can't he have you please? You're the only thing he wants...
He will 100% use Ortho against you, backing you into a corner together with the robot. Ortho wants to make his brother happy, and he would be the happiest together with you. Ortho would also be so so so happy if you were his bif sibling too!
Theyve lost so much, they just want a happy family, together with you.. (ORTHO ONLY WANTS YOU AS A SIBLING NO WEIRD SHI AGAINST ORTHO PLEASE)
Sebek
Sebek has to run to lilia for guidance. Why has this human out this wonderful spell on him, why does he feel so lightweight? Why is his face so red? Why does he want to reject you for the rest od your days, more than he wants to protect malleus?
He wants to marry you. To have a wonderful marriage between human hand half fae, almost liek his parents... he will protect you at all costs. Please do love his loudmouth ass back..
Silver
Silver has no last name as well, so in his mind you both are already matching. He is too sleepy to actually do anything other than fall asleep with you.
Lilia
Lilia would snicker at the rumors. Ah, how he feels young again, silly what love can do to someone... he would love to help his son's with this, but sadly he wants this just as much if not more...
Malleus
Malleus does not want to lose his friend. His first and only real friend. He has tried to court you for so long, and now that you've dropped a hint that you wanted him (by saying you wanted a cool last name) he starts the royal courting traditions.
He follows all the traditions, step by step, being very careful to be correct and sparing no expense. He makes sure you see the future home of yours (the castle), his humongous hoard and his greatest treasure, gao gao dragon..
.. holy hell this was so much longer than what I expected. Well, who would you go for? Do tell :,)
Also, would yall want more long form content like this or way more short form? My asks got deleted so don't really have any to draw smhhh </3 so do send shi in please <3
#yandere ace trappola#yandere deuce spade#yandere cater diamond#yandere trey clover#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere leona kingscholar#yandere ruggie bucchi#yandere jack howl#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere jade leech#yandere floyd leech#yandere kalim al asim#yandere jamil viper#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere rook hunt#yandere epel felmier#yandere idia shroud#yandere malleus draconia#yandere lilia vanrouge#yandere silver#yandere sebek zigvolt#yandere twst#yandere twst art#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland art#yandere art#my hands hurt
349 notes
·
View notes
Text
SOUR.
Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words
it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.
warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.
“Art?”
“Nngh.”
“Artie, wake up.”
“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.
“I don’t like this storm.”
What a sign that storm should have been.
Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”
“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”
Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”
“No.”
Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.
“I don’t see what this has to do with—“
“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”
“You breathing.”
“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”
[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”
“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”
“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”
“I’m not your wife.”
Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”
Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.
It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.
[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.
“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.
“What’s today?”
“Patrick’s in town.”
Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.
“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”
Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”
“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”
“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”
[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.
“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”
“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.
“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”
“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.
And they would have stayed like that all day.
They would have.
BANG BANG BANG.
Like gunshots.
Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.
“Patrick.” They both said.
With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.
“Pretty baby!”
“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”
BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.
“Art!”
“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”
[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”
“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.
[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.
The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.
And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.
Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.
Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.
Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.
[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.
When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.
Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”
“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.
“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.
“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.
“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.
“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.
Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].
“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.
Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M
“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.
“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.
“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.
Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.
Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?
[Y/N] had a sedan.
She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.
“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.
He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”
Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.
“I’m good enough to take the hit.”
[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”
“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“
“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”
“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“
“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“
“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”
[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”
“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.
[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?
[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”
“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.
“Not with Art.”
“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”
“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”
“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.
Patrick scratched his right forearm again.
“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.
“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.
“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.
Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.
“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.
Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“
“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.
Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.
“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.
“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.
The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.
[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”
Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.
And he went out through the bathroom window.
[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.
[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.
[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.
“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.
“Patrick’s gone.”
“Hm?”
“Patrick’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone.”
“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”
Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.
“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.
“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.
Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.
“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”
“Okay. And then?”
“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”
“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.
“Hey, call me.”
“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”
“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”
“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”
“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”
“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”
“Don’t come back.”
Eventually, the voicemail box was full.
[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”
“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”
“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”
“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”
Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.
“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.
“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.
Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.
[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”
“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.
[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”
“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”
“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.
Wife was all Art heard and he melted.
“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”
“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.
“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.
“They don’t talk.”
“I know. Just in case he turns up.”
Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.
Patrick was gone.
But Art was there for all of it.
TAGLIST:
@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#sorry series#challengers movie#challengers#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig
334 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ur fav guy fucking his mom pls pls
౨ৎ ⋆ take it, mommy ! ꨄ shidou ryusei ꒰ DARK CONTENT ꒱
sypnosis: grimy shidou fuckin' his mommy :(
content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 1.4k words ꒱ ince$t, yandere themes, pwop, tons of kissing, groping, no prep, creampie, whiny needy ryu, name usage including . . mommy, mama
“ryusei ! get off me!”
“no.. i love you, love y’so much mommy. missed you soo much.” he purrs against your warm skin. his heavy body lays atop of you, keeping you still below him as he grabs at your face and pressing sloppy kisses anywhere he deems possible; like a bunny in heat.
“n-not now, ryusei, mommy’s got things to do, okay?”
“y’really can’t spend some quality time with your son?” he pouts, a sight you’re never used to seeing. it makes your heart ache, and you sigh.
“b-but, i have to cook—“
“i can help you with that later, ‘kay? jus’ miss you mama, don’t leave me.”
you shrivel under his touch, finding it hard to respond with anything other than your usual ‘yes, of course i won’t .’ he attempts to read into your expression, looking for any sign of reassurance. he sighs with relief when you smile, burying himself in the crook of your collarbone when you run a hand through the soft of his fluffy hair. because he knows, knows that you’ve fallen into his trap once again.
. . ♡
ryusei only loves you. maybe it’s the fact that you’re the only one out of thousands of individuals that he’s ever met, that has shown him unconditional love. spending the last 20 years of your life grooming him, nurturing him, regardless of anything that has happened within the span of his fucked up life, he’s never found another like his own mother.
he can’t help but love you more than a son should love his mother, clinging onto you at any moment given possible when he isn’t out solely to play soccer for his profession.
the brat almost always gets into dangerous situations after a bad game, rushing home to find comfort in his mothers presence, as well as in her sloppy cunt. you attempt to scold him, but everything simply goes in one ear and out the next when he’s desperate for some lovin’ from his mother.
“i know.. i know already, okay? jus’ missed you so much. couldn’t wait to come home..” he mumbles, pressing his hot lips against yours. it’s overwhelming, his soft hands roaming your body and groping the flesh of your tits from under your shirt, the soft fat of them falling in between his fingers. “really just missed you s’much mama. forgive me, ‘kay?”
how heartless would you be if you didn’t ?
♡ . .
“w’na make you feel good. can i , mommy ? please ? w’na have you so bad.” he whines, fingers tugging at your shirt, quickly pulling them above your tits causing you to squeal. he wastes no time listening to your complaints, whining about how he’s too crude, and how he needs to be patient, instead he quickly latches onto your swollen bud. his strained cock unwittingly humps into the sheets, the wet sticky patch that leaks from his cock head dirtying his boxers.
ones you’d have to wash later, and look back on the ‘guilt‘ of your two’s doings.
he’s messy, and his spit coats not only your puffy areola but the fat of your tit. he gropes at your tit simultaneously, causing you to arch your back away from the rough sensation.
“r-ryusei hnn— too rough.”
“sorryyy. . didn’t mean t’mommy.” he mumbles, catching your lips in a heated kiss.
meanwhile, his hand travels below, pulling himself out of the confinement of his boxers. he sighs into your mouth out of relief, the warmth of his shaft unintentionally rubbing against your naked thigh. it makes you whine, squeezing your eyes tight.
“ryusei..” you mumble into the kiss , catching his attention. “you’re such a good boy f’mommy baby.” you coo with a light smile. his gaze softens, an ill-intentioned grin that spreads across his face. he yearns for your free hand, intertwining his bigger fingers with yours.
“can i fuck you now ? please, can’t wait anymore. it hurts , mommy.” he whines, leading your gaze down below where he fervidly attempts to rub out the ache in his cock. it’s a sight you’ve seen many times before, but one that you’re never able to get used to.
he’s heavy, and thick, the rotund tip leaking of creamy pre. his balls swell with need, desperate for any sort of release. he’s thickest around the middle, veins bulging across the entirety of his fat shaft. you find yourself salivating at the sight, quickly tidying your appearance before he has time to make fun of your expression.
“such a pretty sight, baby.” you coo, hoisting yourself onto your forearms to press a soft kiss against his cheek.
“t-thank you, mommy.” he mumbles, a light blush of pink painting over his cheeks. he’s unable to look into you, embarrassed, but doesn’t waste time to press a kiss on the tip of your nose to show his appreciation.
he rubs the swollen head against the pudgy slit of your cunt waiting for approval, shivering when he feels his pre mix into the slick of your arousal. his grip on your hand grows tighter, attempting to press further into your silky cunt.
“mommy, please—“
“mhm, be good for mommy, okay? go ahead, p-put it in, ryusei.”
you find yourself barely able to breathe throughout the the desperation, watching as his pupils grow into large black voids, shaped into hearts.
he wastes no time, quickly guiding his cock into the depths of your cunt. the arousal caused upon his teasing causes a slip, his creamy head accidently nudging over your puffy clit, making you jolt against him. he mumbles out insincere apologies, head empty other than the thought of getting in his mother’s cunt.
he nearly cums when he successfully fucks into you, your tight walls pulsating and gripping around him like no other. you squeal at the stretch, free hand coming up to push at his chest in an attempt to slow his movements.
“wait— ryu !”
“mommy,” he whines, on the brink of tears. if his eyes hadn’t been rolled back into his fucking skull, you’d very obviously see tears beading in the socket of his rosy irises.
“r-ryu,” you cry. “feels s’ good. y-you’re making mommy feel so good..”
his chest swells with pride, yearning to hear more of your honey-like praises.
he humps into you lazily, his breaths heavy and to be heard from rooms away. minimal sweat beads across the crown of his forehead, his gaze pacing back and forth from your frenzied state to down below where you two connect.
your cunt accommodates his girth perfectly, fat folds stretching to painful limits just enough to fit his cock. every thrust leaves a coat of pearlescent cream around him forming a ring, slow dribbles of cum spilling down and coating the tight rim below.
“l-love you, only you, love your pussy s’much, i— thankyouthankyouthank—“ his rambles are stopped by a kiss, but to no avail as he continues chanting against your lips. his hands rub up on every inch of your skin desperately, roughly fondling your messy tits, eager to feel more.
“wan’ you to cum, please, cum ‘round me mama. please—“ he mumbles meekly into your neck, bodies held together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
his thrusts become heavy and sloppy, leaving no room for you to squirm away as he holds tight. “hnn— r-ryu, it hurts— think ‘m g-gonna cum,” you cry, shimmery tears dragging along your dewy cheek. red painful streaks paint the back of the football player, but he pays no mind.
“cum, mommy, cum on it.” he moans breathlessly.
you’d never miss a chance to. your cunt convulses around him violently, pushing him over the edge at the given moment. creamy cum coats the insides, painting your walls white as his fat load seems to be never ending, filling your little cunt to the brim.
“ryusei, t-too much! wait !”
“take i-it, pleasee hnn—, just be still and take it f’me—“
he holds you tight, hindering your attempt to scramble away from the feeling, being sure you feel every inch, every drop of his heavy load.
he withdraws his limp cock from you unwillingly, whining at the sensitivity when your cunt clenches around his swelled tip.
he light smile spreads across his lips as he watches his load leak out of you involuntarily, painting the sheets white. he does nothing to prevent the mess, simply watching from afar dreaming of doing it again.
“love you, mommy.” he speaks quietly, gently grabbing your face on both sides to pucker your swollen lips before pressing a heavy kiss. he adores your fucked out expression, barely awoke but still conscious enough to shoot him a smile, and a honeyed, “i love you too, ryusei. ♡”
“goodnight, mommy. sleep tight. ♡”
#blue lock smut#bluelock smut#shidou ryusei:3333#shidou ryuusei smut#shidou ryusei smut#shidou ryuusei#shidou ryuusei x reader#bllk shidou#shidou smut#blue lock shidou#shidou x reader#shidou ryusei#ryusei shidou#tw: dark content#tw: incest#tw.incest#bllk smut#bllk x you#bllk x reader#bllk x y/n#fanfiction♪♬♫
317 notes
·
View notes
Text
carlos sainz 𝒙 reader !
blurb . requested . fluff and comfort
⋆⭒˚.⋆
“Please Carlos, not Juana!”
You grumble exhausted, two whole hours of bickering about baby names and you’ve gotten no where.
Not even a single clue as to where you could meet at a middle point, with your husband seemingly dead set on giving your unborn daughter a name you’re sure no one’s heard of in years and you ready to take it through a slightly more modern route, you’re seemingly stuck in the middle of nowhere.
So far you’ve heard a variety of names you’re sure won’t suit your princess, or even be to her taste, if she’s anything like you that is.
Alondra, Benita, Biatriz, Martina, Alejandra and nothing!
Nothing feels right and you’re sure you’re at your wits end with discussing baby names.
A whine tumbles out of you, the fear of possibly choosing a bad name for your unborn daughter that could lead to her resenting you forever and ever practically chokes you, causing you push your head into a pillow, shoving the plate full of your current pregnancy obsession of coconut ferrero rochers into Carlos’ chest.
“Mamita no! Estaba bromeando, lo juro!” ( i was joking, i swear! ) Your husband muffles a laugh, placing the plate of treats onto the bedside table next to him, he buries his head near yours.
“She’ll have a beautiful name like her mother, prometo.” ( i promise )
He pushes your hair back from your forehead, the cool of his gold wedding ring pressing itself into you, letting you nuzzle your face into his hand.
You stare at him softly, one hand joining his on the swell of your growing belly. “You promise we won’t name her that? Or…or Benita?”
A deep laugh bursts through him, chest shaking in mirth he pulls you closer to him covering your face in kisses filled with so much love you’re sure you’ll die if ever deprived of them.
“No amorcito, no Benita or Juana.”
You hum frowning slightly, “You’re not upset are you? That I don’t like the names very much, I just want to like them together. And I just don’t see her having such a name to be very honest, I’m sorry if I’m pressuring you.”
You say it so softly it makes his heart clench, he’s aware of the fact that you’re more sensitive than usual with your pregnancy hormones especially with you being in your second trimester, and it upsets him that you’re worried and genuinely fearful about his feelings as though he’s the one growing a whole baby.
“I promise I was joking Amor, swear it. I’m not upset at you at all, never ever ever! And we will like and choose a name together okay? You aren’t pressuring me at all.” He stares at you warmly as though hoping to convey his deep love and reassurance for you, grinning brightly when you nod and relax.
“Okay? Good! Now would you like a glass of water? It’s been a while now and se supone que debes estar bien hidratada, for both you and the princess, hmm? ” ( you’re supposed to be well hydrated. )
Stretching his arm slightly to the table he picks up the crystal glass filled with iced water and a thinly cut slice of lemon to help pit your ever growing nausea.
“Beberse todo.” He mumbles bringing the glass to your lips and tipping it upwards to let you drink, parting it from your mouth only when you hum. ( drink up )
He presses his lips to yours in a noisy peck. “Good job amorcito.”
“Now, about baby names huh?” Smiling at your enthusiastic face, he places the half full glass back down and hums as though deep in thought, tapping his fingers lightly in your belly.
“I’ve always liked Amara, or! Even Estrella? But more so Amara, because you’re mi amor and she’d be mi Amara!”
A breathy laugh bubbles out of you, the joy pillowing through as you filter the lovely name Amara.
You test it on your lips again, “Amara, Amara. Amara Sainz.” It sounds perfect.
It feels perfect, and from the look on the Spaniards face you know he thinks so too.
“Okay.” You giggle, pulling him in closer and letting him breathe you in, trying to entrap you fully in his senses.
“We found her name!”
“We did, amor we did.”
“Thank you, I love you, I love you.” You hold him closer.
“No. thank you, te amo mucho.” He kisses you hard and lovingly, pushing all of his gratitude and deep adoration for you in the kiss, before suddenly pulling away with a dramatic gasp.
“Shit! Lando’s gonna be disappointed.”
Your brows furrow confused and a little dazed from the kiss. “What why?”
“I may or may not have let him think I’d name mi niñita, Landina.”
“Carlos!”
“What? Charles thinks we’re naming her Charlene!”
“…And don’t even get me started on what Fernando thinks we should name her.”
“Dear god Carlos!”
“Fernanada. It’s Fernanda.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
love note , hii thank you sm for requesting !! i absolutely loved writing this it’s such a perfect idea !! i did change it a teeny tiny bit with reader being a bit more emotional and carlos being a bit of a reassuring boyfriend because we love <3 anyways i hope you liked this !! thank you once again for requesting 🫶🏼🫶🏼
#౨ৎ my works#⋆⭒˚.⋆ carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz blurbs#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x fem!reader#carlos sainz blurb#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz drabble#f1 x reader
394 notes
·
View notes
Text
down bad
pairing ꩜ husband!mingyu x afab!reader
sequel to hurts so good, please read it first to understand their background/dynamics.
content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni). they sort of have a fwb thing going on.
author's note ꩜
not proofread. comments are appreciated!
warnings under the cut!
warnings ꩜ smut, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink (it's not deeply explored), orgasm denial, creampie, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, cock warming, pet names (baby, dear husband/wife, my queen, pretty girl), mentions of threesome.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
You loved birthday parties, especially if they were children’s parties. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re in the backyard of Wonwoo and Claire’s house to celebrate Yeji’s 4th birthday.
You’re sitting by the pool, your legs submerged to your knees. You see your husband playing around with his friends’ kids. He’s holding Minjoon—Seungcheol’s son—in his arms while he pretends to drink tea with Yeji and three of her school friends. Your heart skips a beat when he looks your way and smiles. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, even dressed with pink fairy wings, a princess tiara and a pair of plastic earrings.
You sigh and turn your attention to the big form approaching. Joshua greets you with a smile. "Y/N, why are you here all alone?" he asks while sitting by your side.
"Just chilling." You offer a shy smile, a bit intimidated by his presence.
Joshua Hong is gorgeous. When you first met him, you were completely enamored with his face. And when you found out he was nice and friendly, you kinda developed a crush on him. Now, a few years later, you still feel intimidated whenever he’s around.
You take in his visuals, from his dark hair pushed back, featuring his perfect face, to the white button up shirt that allowed you to see a bit of his chest, to his light brown cargo shorts that showcased his legs perfectly. He carried an amused smile on his lips, as usual.
"I’m glad you joined me, though."
"Well, all of my friends are talking about parenting and I can’t listen to another minute of tips on how to change a diaper." Joshua states and you laugh lightly.
"I know the feeling very well." You throw him an empathetic look. "So… how was your trip to Paris? Mingyu mentioned you went there for a convention or something?"
Shua stares into the water, he’s watching your feet move around. "Yeah, for this Luxury Hotels thing. My dad’s trying to expand the franchise and I went to meet some European investors."
"Seems a bit boring." You blurt out and Joshua chuckles, agreeing promptly.
"It is. But it’s work so it’s not meant to be fun."
"True. But Paris is a great city with amazing food and museums."
"Maybe we should go together next time." Joshua comments and your movements freeze instantly. Realizing what he said, he adds "With everyone else, I mean! Like a group trip."
The mischievous gleam in his eyes makes you feel warm inside. Joshua’s flirting, you’re not dumb. And he’s not either, he knows the truth about your situationship with Mingyu.
"That would be nice." Your voice is soft and shaky. He barely said anything and you’re freaking out inside, which leads you to think that maybe you have a big crush on him.
"Hey! You two!" You hear Mingyu’s voice calling. "Let’s sing happy birthday and cut the cake."
Joshua gets up and extends his hands to help you. His palms feel soft under your fingertips, and you feel your insides twist. "C’mon, Y/N. Your husband’s waiting." He flashes a knowing smile and walks away, leaving you too stunned to follow.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
It’s been a year since you and Mingyu made peace and started being friends. You agreed to be friends with benefits and to be exclusive, since you couldn’t risk someone assuming one of you was cheating. So you two reaped the benefits like dates, physical touching and, of course, sex, but didn’t really work on getting romantically involved. Of course that doesn’t mean that both of you didn’t develop some feelings, because you did. But, for now, you played husband and wife and everything was good.
But now, thinking about the way Joshua flirted with you, you wished you could have him. And your brain, always being one to come up with naughty ideas, had the best solution to your problem.
"Gyu?" You call your husband softly. You’re both lying on your shared bed watching TV, his head on your chest and his big hand caressing your belly.
"Hm?" He responds without looking away from the big screen.
"Remember that one time we talked about having a threesome, and I said I didn’t have a guy option?" Your words sparked his interest, so the man got up on his elbows to look at you. "I have a name now…"
Mingyu looks curiously at you. He has an idea of who, but he wants you to say the name. "Who?"
You bite your lower lip, feeling a bit nervous. "Joshua."
Your husband smirks. He knew it. "You have the hots for Shua hyung, dear wife?"
"So what if I do?" You pout. "He’s single and he seems to know about us."
Mingyu scrunches his nose. "I accidentally told him last time we went out for a drink." He reveals with a sheepish smile. "He’s reliable, don’t worry."
"Well, one more reason to do it with him." You say excitedly, your mind already picturing the things you would to do Joshua.
"I don’t want to have a threesome anymore." Your husband states in a quiet voice.
When you look at him, he’s staring down at his hand that’s resting on your hips. He looks a bit annoyed. "What? Are you jealous?" You chuckle, fishing for an answer.
"Not at all." He lies, rolling his eyes to add to the dramatics. "It’s just not on my kink list."
His words make you realize that he’s never once told you about his kinks. In the past year, you’ve talked a few times about it. And Mingyu’s been really open to exploring them, always being so generous and giving you new mind blowing sex experiences each time.
"So what’s on your kink list?" You ask with a sly smile, liking the direction of the conversation.
Mingyu lets his body fall on the bed, hiding his face. He shakes his head, indicating he’s not talking.
"Tell me!" You insist, shaking his arms. "I told you all of mine, but you never told me yours. Besides angry sex, of course."
"Never mind. It’s stupid."
You grab his chin to make him look at you. His cheeks have a pink hue, and he’s scrunching his nose. "Please baby, tell me."
Mingyu sighs, giving in to your soft plead. "It’s not actually a kink, but maaaaybe I’ve been thinking about fucking you in a wedding dress. Since our wedding night never happened."
The air gets caught up in your lungs. The idea of Mingyu having his way with you in a sort of reenactment of your wedding day makes your core burn and your stomach twist and turn.
"I like that idea." You give him a quick kiss before letting go of his face. "What else?"
"I wanted to try corruption kink." He looks away, his face burning even more. It’s funny how cute he looks while revealing his sexual fantasies.
"We can totally try it too." You agree, even if he didn’t actually ask. "But only if you look at me and give me another kiss."
Mingyu chuckles and goes in for the kiss. You touch lips for a few seconds before pulling away.
"Let’s sleep, I’m beaten."
"Not easy being uncle of the year, huh?" You taunt him. "You looked cute dressed up as a fairy."
"The things I do for my goddaughter." He sighs. You both knew fully well he enjoyed playing with the kids, but you let his little lie slide. "Good night, dear wife."
"Good night, dear husband." You allow him to engulf you in a warm hug before slipping into unconsciousness.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
A couple weeks later, you and Mingyu go out to celebrate your 5th anniversary. It’s the first one you’re going to celebrate, now that you’re on good terms. For this reason, you prepared a little surprise for Mingyu, wanting to spice things up a bit.
After your conversation about his kinks, you decided you needed a special occasion to try them, and what’s more special than the first anniversary you celebrate?
So you went out with Gwen and she helped you pick out a nice wedding dress. You settled for a sparkly white satin rhinestone strap mini dress that really compliments your boobs and legs. You’re sure he’s going to lose it when he sees you.
Mingyu also planned a surprise: he made a reservation for an overnight stay in a luxurious hotel room, which had the biggest bed you’ve ever seen.
You arrive after having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. Mingyu has a goofy smile, maybe because you both had a couple drinks, maybe because he is excited for the night.
There’s a small table in your room with two flutes and a bottle of champagne waiting. Mingyu pops it open and you toast. You take a sip and decide it’s time to put on your dress.
"Wait here, I have a surprise."
While you rush to the big bathroom to get changed, Mingyu takes off his blazer. He’s wearing a deep purple shirt that compliments his skin, and perfectly tailored dress pants. His hands are shaking in anticipation, because he has another surprise for you before the night ends.
Meanwhile, you put on your dress pretty quickly—you chose one that you’re able to zip up yourself. You pull the white lace garter up your leg, adding a touch of sensuality. To finish off, you place the short veil on your head. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, you decide you look perfect. You slip back into your white heels and open the bathroom door.
Mingyu’s looking out the window, his champagne glass nearly empty. You approach him slowly and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?"
"Hm… I have a feeling it’s my wife. Not sure though." He joined in with a laugh.
You place your hands on his shoulder and turn him around, revealing your new outfit. His jaw drops when he sees you.
"Y/N, what is this?" His breathing is quick and you can see he’s starting to malfunction.
"Well, I kept thinking about how we never had a wedding night." You bite your lower lip, inching closer to him. "And I figured tonight would be a good one to make up for lost time. Don’t you agree?"
Mingyu just stares, still in shock. He takes in your form, how your boobs look delicious in your dress, the way the fabric hugs your waist, and how you look fucking angelic while asking him to fuck you. "Shit, you can’t do this to me." He groans in a low, deep tone.
You can see he already has a tent in his pants. Mingyu looks flushed, and you haven’t even touched him yet.
"How about you lie down, dear husband?" You say in a provocative tone. "You look a little pale, let me take care of you."
The man nearly runs to the bed. He gets comfortable and you get on top of him. Your core is starting to grow hot, seeing how much he wants you.
Without giving it a second thought, pull out his pants along with his boxers. His cock stands hard and leaking pre cum, which makes your mouth water at the sight.
Before leaving the house, you decided you want to have a night to remember. And you hold on to that determination when you keep pushing Mingyu’s buttons.
"I want to help, but I don’t know how…" you take his cock in your hand and pump it slowly. He shudders at the stimulation. "Can you teach me how to do it, dear husband?" Your saccharine voice makes something twist inside of Mingyu. He takes in your doe eyes and semi innocent smile, quickly catching on what you’re doing. The man chuckles in pleasant disbelief, he knows he’s in for a treat.
"My pretty girl needs guidance?" His big hand starts to guide yours as you masturbate him. You’re sitting on his beefy thighs and you can feel him trembling as you increase the speed of your movements. Mingyu’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, allowing some sighs to fall off easily.
You feel him twitching under your palm and his hand holds your wrist to stop you. "That’s enough, baby." His voice is breathy and it makes you happy to see how much you affect him.
"Can you do something else for me?" Mingyu asks. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him. "I need you to put your mouth around it."
You feign shock, widening your eyes and slightly gaping your mouth. Mingyu sits up a bit, and kisses you softly while kneading your thighs. "I'll help through it, pretty girl".
You slide down the bed and inch closer to his throbbing cock. "Open your mouth." Mingyu instructs and you play along.
His heavy hand grabs the back of your head and guides you to start sucking him off. He loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue on his cock, it makes the fire in his abdomen burn hotter and hotter with each passing second.
Mingyu starts to feel hot and unbuttons his shirt, his hand leaving your to bob your head on your own for a few seconds. "You're so good at this, baby." He groans deeply and you feel arousal pool on your lace panties, his reactions turning you on even more.
When he feels he's about to cum, Mingyu pulls you away. You take a good look at your husband, taking in they way his toned chest glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. He takes off his shirt, laying bare beneath you. He looks beautiful and your heart races.
You sigh and move closer, needing to feel his lips on yours. You share a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing in sync. Mingyu guides your hips and you grind against him, his big hands giving occasional slaps on your ass.
By now, you're already soaking wet and desperate for his cock. You need Mingyu and you need him now. "Gyu, I need you".
"Need me to do what, baby?"
Of course he wasn't going to make it easy for you. You take his hand and guide it to your dripping cunt, acting shy. Mingyu runs his fingers on your lace panties and grunts when he feels just how wet you are.
Mingyu decides to play nice and slips his fingers in your panties. He glides his fingers easily, collecting your wetness while rubbing your lower lips. His middle finger settles in your clit and he circles it slowly, sending electric waves through your body.
Your head feels heavy with lust, so you let it fall on his shoulder. He keeps masturbating you until you feel on edge. When he senses you're about to cum, he stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated cry from you.
"I-I was so close" you complain with a pout. Mingyu laughs and pecks your puckered up lips.
"I promise I'm going to make you feel even better."
Mingyu reaches for the zipper on your back and undoes it in a way to expose your boobs. He grabs them and runs his thumbs on your nipples. "So perfect for me, they fit perfectly in my hands."
He attaches his lips to your right nipple and keep massaging the other. You go back to rutting each other like animals on heat. You pull his hair and let you head fall back, the familiar burning sensation running through your veins.
Mingyu decides he's had enough, so he manhandles you so you're on all fours. He stands tall behind you, admiring your exposed ass and covered cunt. Slowly, he slides your panties down your legs. You shake in anticipation.
"My beautiful wife..." he sighs. "You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" You agree quickly. "I can't wait to ruin you. To fill you up with my seed and get you pregnant." You both moan in unison.
Your heart is racing with his words. God, you'd let him do anything to you. Anything. "Please, do it."
Mingyu's cock throbs with your request. He aligns himself with your whole and sinks in slowly. You lose strength and bend your arms, exposing your ass even more. Mingyu grabs your waist to support you in place, even if his own legs were trembling with pent up desire.
He slides in and out of you, catching up speed until his unrelenting tempo makes the bed shake and hit the wall. His cock massages your inner walls in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places to put you in a lustful frenzy.
You're sure you're moaning and whining, but your heart pumps so loudly in your ears that you don't quite hear it. But Mingyu does, and it only spurs him on. He's lost in your heat, in the way you clench around him. Plus, you in that fucking wedding dress... every time his eyes glimpse at the sheer white fabric, he swears his cock gets even harder.
Mingyu slows down and pulls out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, feeling really worked up and frustrated.
The man sits down again and pulls you on his lap, and you're so wet you sink down on him with ease. You start to ride him, your boobs bouncing deliciously for Mingyu to see.
His eyes focus on the place where you two connect. Your cunt swallows his big cock beautifully. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl".
You place your hands on his chest for support, your short nails sinking on his skin and leaving small crescent marks. "I'm close."
Mingyu snaps his hips up to meet yours, reaching even deeper within you. It only takes a few slides for you to cum.
You feel your spirit being lifted from your body and you tremble, falling into Mingyu. He places two fingers on your clit and circles it to intensify your pleasure. You're so out of it you don't even notice when Mingyu flips you both over and starts to rail you missionary, chasing after his own high.
"Fill me up, dear husband" You sigh in his ear and Mingyu shivers. "Make my pussy full of your warm cum. Give me your babies".
That's enough for Mingyu to lose it and cum with a deep moan. He shivers and start to unload inside of you, his white milk covering your abused walls. His hips slow down and he stills inside of you.
Once again, he flips you both over, and you stay on top of him again, his cock still inside of you. You kiss his neck and rub your hands on his arms while you wait for him to come down. Mingyu grabs your ass, and you know he's partially recovered. So you sit up again, still cock warming him.
When he looks up at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes. Mingyu smiles beautifully, his canines showing up and his orbs shining with something else you can't quite identify.
"I have to ask you something" He says and you smile, indicating he can keep talking. "But I have to get something first... It pains me, but I need you to slip off".
Even full of his cum, you feel empty when Mingyu slides off. The dress you're wearing is all bunched up and wet, so you take it off and throw it on the floor.
"Can you grab my panties?" You ask your husband and he gets one from your bag. He also brings a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before you slide in your fresh panties. When you're both semi-clean and with underwear on, you slide into the fresh Egyptian cotton sheets.
"What did you want to ask me?" You question, feeling a bit anxious.
Mingyu bites his lower lips. He's feeling shy and self-conscious, but he musters the courage to say what he wants. "Well, this night is about celebrating our wedding, right?" You agree. "This past year's been amazing, and I really liked getting to know you better".
"Me too, Gyu" You smile, your heart beating faster.
"I know we agreed to being friends with benefits, but I realized I can't keep going like that." You have a big question mark in your eyes and Mingyu can see it, so he hurries to complete his line of thought. "I can't be friends because I'm down bad. I love you, Y/N. I never expected this to happen, but I do."
You smile and jump him. Your heart's beating like crazy and you're completely at a loss for words. "I love you too, Gyu."
You both kiss in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter.
Mingyu's smiling widely, once again showing his canines you adore so much. "Well, I think I can ask you what I wanted then".
He pulls a black box from under the pillow, one you didn't even see him placing there. He opens the box and there lies the most beautiful engagement ring. You never really got engaged, since you hated each other back then.
Mingyu takes the ring. "I kept thinking about how I never asked you to marry me. So, will you be my queen? Will you marry me, for real this time?"
"Yes! Yes, yes... God yes!" He places the ring on your finger and you kiss again, this time with more passion.
"My queen" He places a kiss on your cheek, sighing with a dreamy smile. "We're gonna be so happy, I promise".
"I know we will, baby. I'm gonna give my best for it to happen, too".
Then, Mingyu gets up and fills another glass of champagne for you to toast your engagement. You keep talking and exchanging kisses until late hours. You're down bad, but you're sure you don't want to get up.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
#mingyu smut#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#mingyu fanfic#seventeen hard hours#mingyu hard hours#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#mingyu x reader#mingyu scenarios#anon request#my works
252 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
oddobox-blog
Odd-O-Box
the-me-in-my-dreams
Memories, Wishes, and Dreams
pleasantpizzaalienhumanoid
𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎
coffinlord
Saw Bathroom Employee & Yuulma Historian
the-scythians
S C Y T H I A