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#(if you're seeing this in the game's tag: i am so sorry for the word vomit but this is for my followers. i am insane.)
lightkrets312 · 11 months
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love this creature
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teebiehonest · 1 year
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Where Am I? fanart of
oooo spooky peanut man
These fanarts are based off of the game "Where am I?" on roblox by Hmm Incoporated!
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i think it's actual name is Hollow* but i'm not certain and at this point im too afraid to ask
i gave it a top hat and bowtie and the eyeglass because it deserves to be fancy sometiesm like we all do
it's tall but i dont know how tall but taller than i think average human height (i do not want google to think i am stupif)
but like HEY i like the watermark i made
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predestinatos · 2 months
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you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆。🌷
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summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.
tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!
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"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.
"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.
The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.
The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.
This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.
You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.
So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.
"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.
"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.
Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.
He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.
The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.
The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.
Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.
So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.
"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.
"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.
"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.
A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.
"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.
Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.
"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.
"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.
"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.
"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.
"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.
"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.
"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.
You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.
"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.
You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.
"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.
"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.
"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.
"Max... Max!! Max Max-"
He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.
The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.
He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.
It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.
"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.
"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.
"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"
"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month
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Could I request either “You’re always worrying.”“Yes, I am, because you're you.” or 'Their partner doing something and their clumsiness striking in a way that leads to good spirited laughter between the two.' with Steve please? Whichever you prefer 💚
I went with the first one, I hope that’s okay! 🧡
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
“You’re late.”
Your voice was a little mournful, your pout hiding your concern, your worry, but your eyes gave you away. Steve’s brows knitted together as his hand cupped your elbow, bringing you into him as you both began the walk to the pizza joint on the upper level.
His hand on your skin was soothing, a medicine you didn’t know you needed. It travelled up until his arm draped around your neck, the smell of Steve making your shoulders drop, tension forgotten, if only just.
Steve laughed a little, soft and not at all unkind, but you frowned anyway. “By like, three minutes, babe.” He didn’t say sorry - he didn’t really need to - but his voice was gentle enough that you heard the apology stitched between each word.
He tugged you into him, uncaring of the busy mall, the passersby, the onlookers. His lips found your temple, a kiss stamped there that was all adoration and love. “You’re always worrying, huh?”
You scoffed but leaned into him anyway, seeking out more of his mouth, lips lifting in the corners when his nose nuzzled at your hairline. “Well, yes, I am,” you mumbled, shy at being caught out, adored that he could read you so well. “Because you’re you.”
Steve snorted at that too, leading you through the evening crowds, the mall busier than usual as Hawkins residents made their way to the cinema, the new laser tag rooms that had opened up last week.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You tried really hard not to roll your eyes but Steve must’ve seen, pinching at your side with his free hand and making you squeak, batting him away. He grinned, letting you escape his hold only to catch your hand and pull you back into him. Your fingers twined with his, nose wrinkling as you glared up at him, playful, for the most part.
“You have a baseball with nails embedded in it in your trunk,” you reminded him, “plus another under your bed.”
Steve grinned, nonplussed and he bumped his shoulder with yours as the pizza counter came into view. “Hey now, lower your voice, there could be lingering Russians.”
You really were glaring now, because you truly didn’t know if he was joking or not. To be truthful, Steve wasn’t sure either. But he was still smirking, enjoying your pouty mood, knowing that once he got you alone, he could kiss it right out of you.
“You’re not funny,” you told him, joining the queue and pretending to look at the overhead menus, bright signs and flashing pizza cartoons making your eyes ache. Steve knew you’d get your usual, a slice of chicken and sweetcorn, like always. “You probably are on some CIA watchlist, you know.” You prodded at his ribs, eyes narrowing when Steve laughed. “A whole team of agents listening in to you and the kids dragon game meetings. That’s why I worry.”
“Oh my god, you’re like, totally in love with me, huh?” Steve was still smiling but his grin had turned softer, jokes turning lovesick. He bent a little at the knees, nose nuzzling your cheek despite the people around you. He didn’t mind a little PDA. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, doting when you allowed one to your lips. “S’real cute, babe.”
You let him kiss you, once, twice, cheeks hot when the woman in front of you huffed but Steve just wrapped his arm around you again, bringing your back to his front as you both waited your turn in line.
“You’re so annoying,” you told him, head resting against his chest all the same. You didn’t sound annoyed at all, in fact, from over your shoulder, Steve could see your smile.
“Tell me about it,” Steve hummed, more than happy to be at the receiving end of your worrying, especially if you let him dote on you like this to make up for it.
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bonny-kookoo · 3 months
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Jungkook
Princess | Intro/ Part 01
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There's more to it than what meets the eye.
Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression
Length: 6.5k Words
-> Masterlist
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Jungkook hates loosing.
And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.
What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.
Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.
But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.
“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.
Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.
“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.
If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.
“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.
Jungkook smells the lie right away.
“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”
“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.
“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.
“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.
The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.
“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.
Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.
“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.
“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”
“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.
“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.
Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.
He really regrets taking on this bet now.
Hopefully this won’t end too badly.
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You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.
He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.
Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.
If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.
Hopefully.
When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.
It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.
And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.
No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.
In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?
Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.
“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.
It’s unnerving to see.
“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.
Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.
Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.
“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.
He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-
Wait.
Fear?
Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.
“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.
“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”
“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.
You roll your eyes.
“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.
“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.
Something’s odd here.
But it’s also none of his business.
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The next day, you’re not there on time again.
And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.
“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”
“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.
“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.
“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“
“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.
“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.
“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“
“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.
“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.
Now your tail is wagging, clearly.
“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.
“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.
“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”
You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-
Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.
“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.
And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.
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You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.
And the day after that.
But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.
"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.
"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."
That's it.
Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.
What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.
And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.
"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.
"I'm getting her myself."
If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.
And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’
If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.
He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.
You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.
He puts his hand in between the door.
But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.
“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.
“No.” You deny.
“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.
“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.
The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.
Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.
How long have you been living like this?
The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.
“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“
“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”
Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.
But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.
This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.
This is something deeper.
“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.
“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.
“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”
“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.
“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.
“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”
It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-
But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.
Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.
The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.
“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.
“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.
“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.
“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?
“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.
“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“
“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.
“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.
“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”
“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.
“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”
“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”
“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.
“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.
“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.
“How to bring you home.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.
You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.
That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.
“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.
“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.
“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.
The only place no one is looking at you.
“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”
“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.
“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”
“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.
Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.
“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.
“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.
“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.
“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”
“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.
“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”
You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.
“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”
“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”
“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.
“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.
And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.
Maybe you’re just acting tough.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.
You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.
It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.
“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.
“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.
“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.
“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.
“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.
Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.
“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.
“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.
So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.
“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.
“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”
“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”
“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”
“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.
“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.
The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.
Five.
“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.
If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.
“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.
Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.
You were simply used from the start.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.
And you really, really do not want to go with him.
“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.
“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.
And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.
Well- at least he’s not driving fast.
“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.
“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.
You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.
But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.
“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.
“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.
“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.
“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.
“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.
“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.
“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.
“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.
Is that your view on the world around you?
“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.
“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”
“No.” He denies again. You frown.
“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”
“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.
“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.
Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.
“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”
“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.
Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.
His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.
When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.
“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.
“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.
“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”
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empresskylo · 9 months
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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1
➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you. 
“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark. 
“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”
you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.
it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in. 
he was laughing?  
“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’. 
gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face. 
“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man. 
“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red. 
you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job. 
“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.
“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”
“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him. 
“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”
your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle. 
you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.
finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes. 
you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself. 
“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.
“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact. 
“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”
why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin. 
“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”
“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”
some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.
“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.
you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room. 
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you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased. 
he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”
“ our ?” you questioned.
“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”
“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically. 
“i woulda asked for you regardless.”
“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”
“ya can’t.”
you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets. 
“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern. 
“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”
“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone… 
“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”
that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?
soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”
“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”
“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”
“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily. 
“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come. 
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it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open. 
the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.
“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”
you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.
“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly. 
“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you. 
“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”
“lonely?”
“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”
ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought. 
you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”
“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”
you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself. 
you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.
you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him. 
he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen. 
you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap. 
you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you. 
you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist. 
“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.
in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“
he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”
you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.
“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome. 
ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.
but he was silent. 
“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” 
ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.
oh my god, were you going to cry?!
you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.
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you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin. 
his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional. 
“ghost give ya a hard time?” 
“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”
soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.” 
you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.
“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.
“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.
you slouched against him. 
“do you think i’m cut out for this? 
he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”
you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”
“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”
you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.
your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”
you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.
“okay,” you agreed. 
“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.
you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.
chapter 3 ➡
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dreamauri · 10 months
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♪ — 𝗦𝗛𝗛𝗛 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff+smut) “. . . you're finally able to attend one of your boyfriend's races and he super exited things get interesting”
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( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )
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"Lando." "Give me like . . . 5 more hours." The boy was sleeping, curled up on some blankets that he put together. One of the members of his team was trying to wake him up, because you were here. The team had put so much effort into flying you to Monaco, and now, Lando was being too lazy to see his surprise.
You were sitting beside him, but like an idiot, he didn't notice at all. "Alright, I'm out." You yawned, standing up and walking passing by in front of Lando and out the garage.
Lando was still half asleep, he thought he must've been dreaming. Sitting up and looking at your disappearing figure. "Am I- Is she?" He couldn't get a word out, not being able to differentiate between reality and dreams.
The team was laughing at him, gesturing and telling him to go catch you before you leave ( which you would not ). He quickly ran out, stumbling over his feet while looking for you. You, who knew he'd be searching for you like a maniac waited at the entrance where he wouldn't see you.
"Where did she-" "Tag. You're it, mother fucker." You tapped his shoulder quickly before running off. "No fair!" You could hear Lando shout as he tried to catch up to you. The first thing that came to mind was to go into the media pin. What you did not plan was hiding behind max, the blond looking confused as you and lando ran circles around him.
"Max don't just- Y/N! Come here! Max help me." Max chuckled taking a sip of his can, shrugging at the interviewer with a smile. "Max please!" "Max no-" you were to late, once the redbull driver put his hand up to stop you, you were immediately lifted up from your thighs by Lando, who quickly around away with you.
"My girlfriend!" He cheered again and again bouncing you up and down ad he ran through the paddock exited, showing you off to everyone. "The love of my life!" He laughed with the widest smile on his face.
You tried to turn around so you look down at him. You were a laughing mess, you've never seen him this happy. "Lando. Put me down." You said in between laughs as he continued to run around and spin you. "But you'll run away." He argued pouting. "I'll give you a kiss." You bribed with a smirk which made him quickly lower you and hug you by your waist.
His bashful smile spread across his face as he waited for you to kiss him. And you did leaning up and pecking his nose. "Heyyy." He whined trying to kiss you properly. "I never said where, I just told you I'd give a kiss." Lando pouted. "Oh my God, I'm dating a puppy."
You chuckled before you were pushed from behind into a kiss. Lando quickly savored it, cupping the back of your head so you wouldn't pull away. And once you did, you looked back to see Daniel Riccardo and Max Verstappen, standing there, looking around like they didn't do anything.
"Oh! Oh my God. Is that you Y/N? Long time no see." Daniel looked at you, pretending this was his first time seeing you, even though he was standing 2 feet away from you. "How are you, how's uni?"
"Going good." You nodded looking at max who still pretend like he was innocent, looking around nodding at random things. "She's looking at me and I know I'm going to pushed in the pool."
"Yes, she will." You chuckled taking Lando's hand, pulling him along. "So, see you all on Friday?" You nodded ready to leave with the ball of sunshine next to you. "You're not going to spend the day with us?" Max asked gesturing to the redbull garage.
"Yeah marketing has a few games for us to play, you don't wanna join." Daniel added. You've known this group for sometime. After growing up alongside Max on the track and being best friends with Daniel, you met Lando who eased into your life and made a cozy spot for himself.
"I'm sorry guys, but me and Lan have things to catch up on." You looked at your boyfriend smiling. "Back at the hote-" "Ew, aren't you two like 5?" Danny shook his head disapprovingly. "We don't don't need to know." Max scrunched his nose in disgust looking away.
"Max I can hear you and that Porsche driver from across the city." You told him in a matter of fact-ly. "Me and Mijn liefje are not loud." He nudged your shoulder chuckling. You and your ball of sunshine eventually made it out of there, running alongside each other to Lando's apartment hand in hand laughing together.
Running into his apartment, you two started undressing as soon as you shut the door, stumbling over your clothes as you made your way to the bedroom. Lando sat on the bed first catching you as soon as you straddled his lap falling on his back as you two began making out.
Laughs and giggles could be heard between you as hands explored each other's bodies. "Did they grow bigger? I feel like they did." He asked gripping your boobs gently. "Says you Mr. Abs, when did you get these?" You giggled pulling away as you look down at his bare stomach, tracing his muscles.
"Do you like them?" He asked holding your waist and pulling you further closer to him. "The look good on you." You nodded leaning down and kissing his jaw and neck. "Makes you look like a young Greek God." You hummed pulling away.
Intertwining your fingers together, you pinned his hands above his head, aligning yourself with him. The boy could only admire you. "Why are you smiling like that?" You chuckled raising an eyebrow. "What I can't smile at my girlfriend any more?" You giggled, leaning down and kissing him softly.
Lando swallowed the moans that came from your mouth, raising his hips out of impatience. He wanted more from you, all of you. "Slow down. We're not in a rush." You mumbled in between kisses, moans slipping from your lips as you finally settled down all the way. "Yeah but, I want you." He whispered back looking into your eyes.
You only chuckled, kissing him gently before sitting up and brushing your hair behind your back, you settled your hands on the boy's chest leaning forward slightly as you started moving. "Oh fuck, baby." Lando moaned holding your hips to guide you ( more like to touch you ). "You're so tight." He grumbled closing his eyes so he could only concentrate on you.
Much to his dismay, his phone started ringing. Leaning back a little, you peak through the door frame. The phone was in the pile of clothes you created earlier, desperately trying to get your attention. "Noo." Lando whined, hugging your waist and puling you back closer, his mouth found your skin where he took the opportunity to kiss and nibble, leaving marks behind.
You could feel him desperately try to thrust up into you, to get some friction. He moaned your name as you gently played with his curls leaning your head on his shoulder. Although Lando was on the average side, he fit you perfectly, and you wouldn't want no other.
"My love." He stuttered catching your lips. You smiled into the kiss, cupping his name as his hug tightened on you. Moving back a little, you laid you on your back with him on top, quickly wrapping your legs around his abdomen so he can continue with his thrusts.
Moans slipped from your lips as soon as he did. "How did I get so lucky?" He mumbled into your neck making you giggle. Lando's hand was trailing all over your body, exploring and admiring your being when he was interrupted once more. That stupid phone ringing again.
"I'll go get it." You mumbled attempting to break free from his hold. "Lando let go." The boy only held on, whining like a lost puppy. You chuckled kissing his head before breaking free and getting the phone. It was Carlos, which surprized. "Hola." You greeted walking back to bed to the impatient McLaren driver. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" . . . Well you were doing his best friend, but you could leave that part out.
"Doing? Me? Nothing important." You joked which made Lando look at you offended. You chuckled silently as you sat on your boyfriend's lap, holding his shoulders. "Well we might as well invite you too, is Lando there?" Carlos asked. You looked down at your boyfriend who was laying on his back looking at you disapprovingly. "No." You replied giggling down at the boy who only rolled his eyes.
"What's that idiot doing?" Carlos chuckled, as you covered said person with your free hand. Lando looked at you confused. He answered his own question as a moan escaped his lungs. "What was that?" Carlos cut you off hearing the noise. "Lando stubbed his toe. You want to talk to him?" "Yes please."
The brunette was shaking his head aggressively as you handed him the phone, you removed your hand from his mouth as you leaning back, moving again. Your boyfriend could only grip onto your thighs as he arranged plans with his friend. You were a pro at staying silent, unlike the stuttering boy beneath you.
His breaths were getting shorter and faster and he was more out of it with Carlos, holding one of your hands desperately. You knew he was close and you let him have it. "H-hey, I'll call you back." Lando cut off, ending the call quickly.
You could feel him begging for release, grunts and groans escaping his mouth. All he could do was take what you gave him. You could only laugh when his hips stuttered. "You- I- no idea." Failing to put a sentence together, you kissed him gently snuggling into him. "I love you." He finally said. "I love you." You returned kissing his cheek.
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hgfictionwriter · 12 days
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Maybe This Time
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: UCLA was a long time ago. Jessie couldn't bring herself to make a move back then and missed her chance. But now that you're back in her life, maybe things can be different.
Warning: None
A/N: A bit more fluff for y'all! And sorry for flooding the Jessie tags. I’ve got a bunch of fics just sitting around!
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"Jessie?"
Jessie turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Y/N. Y/N L/N. The girl she'd pined over at UCLA; who her friends had relentlessly made fun of her for liking and never pursuing; the girl who still showed up in idle daydreams from time to time, even all these years later.
"I heard you were playing in town now. Oh my gosh - it's been so long. I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."
Here you were standing in front of her. Smiling at her. Instead of being the...relatively...confident person Jessie now was - she was national team captain, a gold medal athlete, for goodness sake - she wasn't a young girl anymore hiding behind textbooks and her friends, instead though, she felt her cheeks burn hot and her words got caught in her throat. She stood there staring speechless at you.
"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," you said, a hint of apprehension beginning to cast over you.
Finally, Jessie began to react. She closed her eyes briefly in hopes of resetting, shaking her head and allowing herself to smile.
"Of course I do," she finally managed, only stammering slightly. "I mean, I recognize you. Of course."
"Okay." You let out a small laugh of relief. "For a second I thought worldwide athletic stardom made you forget your favourite lab partner."
"Of course not," Jessie readily assured you. "I'd never forget you."
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw as she reprimanded herself internally for imploding so quickly and after so much time. She cut herself some slack when you smiled again at her.
"That's comforting to hear. Well, I mean, I know you're just leaving," you gestured to the door of the coffee shop, "but, um, I don't know." You laughed nervously before settling on what to say. You offered her a resolute nod. "It was nice to see you again."
Jessie's mind whirled with ideas and options. Anything coming out of her mouth now was mere instinct.
"Nice to see you too. Um, I don't know, maybe we could chat sometime? Are you in Portland too?"
"Yeah, I work at a logistics firm in town." You cracked a smirk. "Not nearly as glamorous as being a national icon, but you know, I do my part."
Jessie chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.
"If you call 4 am wake-up calls, jet lag, and bruises to high heaven glamourous, then sure, I guess it is."
"Sounds not too unfamiliar from your UCLA days," you teased. "I still remember when you showed up to class with a black eye. And I see you've healed fine from your recent one."
Jessie blushed. So you watched her games? And you remembered moments from uni.
You'd been friends in university, but that's all it ever was. Her friends had goaded her again and again to ask you out, but Jessie could never work up the courage. She'd doubted herself too much. And then before she knew it she'd lost her chance. You dated other girls and that was the end of it. She stepped back and time ticked on.
You remained close friends throughout uni, sharing deep conversations, hopes and fears, silly moments, too. There were moments where Jessie felt hope starting to blossom in her chest - that maybe you had feelings for her, but she'd stamp it out. She’d just be setting herself up for disappointment.
After you both graduated, that was it. She'd gone off to London and you fell out of touch. It was for the best really. Well, maybe.
"Anyway," you started again, drawing Jessie back from her thoughts. "Sure, I'd love to catch up. I'd say I'll message you on Instagram, but I know your social media is a black hole. I can give you my number if you like."
Jessie gave you a tight-lipped smile as she scratched the back of her head and let her gaze fall to the bulletin of flyers instead.
"Yeah, I'm not much for social media."
"I know," you chuckled. "You never were."
Jessie cleared her throat and looked back to you. "And sure, what's your number?"
She almost missed you telling her because her mind drifted back to class when you reached over and scribbled your number on the top corner of her paper and told her to text you about the reading. Jessie’s words had died in her throat and she had to settle for merely offering you a delayed nod as you gathered up your books and left. She’d felt light on her feet, nearly dizzy even, all day. Her hands had shaken when she texted you and her palms were clammy as she awaited your response.
That was a lifetime ago. But now here you were, and number newly confirmed. Jessie tucked her phone away in her pocket.
"Okay, I'll let you go," you told her. "And truly, if you aren't up to a chat of any kind - no pressure. You probably have so many people vying for your time. I won't be offended." You said with true earnest. "In case I don't see you again, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'd say I'm impressed, but A) that goes without saying, and B) I always knew you were going to do great things. I told you time and time again. Anyway, it was so good to see you. Take care."
Before Jessie could respond, you'd turned and disappeared to the other side of the shop and into the line. She forced herself to turn and leave.
The door had barely closed behind her when she opened her phone and pulled up her messages with Teagan.
"You will NEVER guess who I just ran into."
-----
"Hi Y/N. It's Jessie. UCLA."
"Lol the one and only. How are you?"
"Well forgive me for not assuming that you would know who a random 'Jessie' is lol. I'm doing well, thanks. How are you?"
"You were always very humble. It was always very endearing, so I'm glad to see you haven't lost that. I'm doing well. Working late. Some of my vendors are shitting the bed, so I'm scrambling to find alternatives."
"Seriously? That sounds brutal. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel better, the team had to run extra drills today because of how bad our last game was."
"It's the start of the season - lots of new players. Chemistry takes time. You guys will find your groove soon. I'm positive. How is Portland treating you, by the way? I'd love to hear more about your time in London too at some point."
"Well, if you still want to grab coffee, I can tell you all about it. And I want to hear about you too. Did you ever make it to the Ghibli museum?"
"Oh my gosh lolol. You remember that. And yes! I did. And it was amazing. And coffee would be amazing, too :)"
Jessie belatedly realized that she was smiling as you texted back and forth. It was an odd feeling - it was strange to be talking with you again, yet entirely natural.
To her surprise, you ended up texting every day until you met up Sunday afternoon. She'd mentioned to Teagan that you two had this scheduled and soon Jessie was hit with an onslaught of messages from all her Bruins mates stepping right back into form and teasing her.
On a scale from 1-10, how red did you blush? And why was it 20.
Can I finally tell her you mumbled her name in your sleep? Several times?
Please tell me you immediately pulled out a vision board with her face all over it.
LOL the universe said, “Think you’ve suffered enough pining for this girl? Think you’re over her? Guess again!”
She still hot? Send pics.
Jessie sat in her car down the street from the coffee shop and essentially gave herself a stern, mental talking to about your get together. She was not who she was 5 years ago, and neither were you. She didn't need to be so nervous. There were no stakes at all, she could just relax, be in the moment, and reconnect with an old friend.
When she stepped into the coffee shop, her pulse picked up just so when she saw you seated at a table, but thankfully by the time she sat she'd composed herself again.
"The good news is, the rain is nothing new to me after being in London," she joked as she swept some rain off her baseball cap.
You looked up from your phone and a large smile crossed your face.
"Yeah, I hear you. And what's going on - how did we both go from sunny LA to rain central?"
Not entirely surprising, conversation flowed easily between you two. And it wasn't all reminiscing and nostalgia, it was easy to talk about current things as well. Pretty soon, you were both at the ends of your second cups of coffee and yet neither of you made a move to leave.
"So, um, you've been in Portland for a while now," the ease Jessie had felt faltered some as she broached a topic she'd been highly curious about, "did [y/gf] come with you?"
You screwed up your face and laughed.
"No," you answered easily. "We broke up like a couple of months after convocation. Let's be real - that was never going to last."
"Oh," Jessie replied, surprise showing on her face at how readily you dismissed the notion. "I had no idea. I thought you two were solid."
"Well," you drained the last bit of your drink, "I guess I wasn't entirely forthcoming then. Sure, things were okay. But, I was lying to myself if I thought that was going to be a 'forever' kind of relationship." Jessie's look of surprise lingered and you rolled your eyes, leaning in. "Jessie. She'd get distracted every time she walked by a mirror. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. Her full on checking herself out anytime she caught her reflection?"
Jessie sat back and gave you a brief look of disbelief, shaking her head. "I tried not to notice."
"Smart," you retorted good naturedly. "She was nice, and we had fun, but beyond our values not exactly aligning, an equal partnership it was not."
"Well, okay, she's out of the picture. You must be with someone new, then," Jessie went on. She ignored the twinge in her chest when you shook your head 'no'. Just as quickly, she scolded herself. Why would it matter? She was getting way ahead of herself here. She supposed that old habits - and evidently dormant feelings - died hard.
"No. I mean, I dated a couple of girls since I've been here, but nothing's really stuck." You looked up from your drink to Jessie. "Now, superstar, you have to tell me your update."
Jessie mouth contracted into a tight smile and she felt her cheeks begin to burn under the scrutiny.
"That's confidential," she quipped.
You rolled your eyes dramatically and leaned forward. "That is so not fair." Jessie remained smugly silent and merely shrugged. You let out an exasperated sigh and slouched back in your chair. "Fine," you relented not wanting to push too much. "You were always tight-lipped in university, too. You could've had anyone and you - as far as I know," you said pointedly, "didn't date anyone."
"Oh come on." Jessie now rolled her eyes. "I was so shy and quiet. Even if I'd liked someone I would've never gotten up the courage to ask them out." She felt a buzzing in her head as she watched your reaction. You smiled sweetly.
"You were shy and quiet, yes. But you opened up once you were comfortable. I mean, look at us, look at you with your teammates. And you were so smart, incredibly sweet, and pretty, and you had that dry sense of humour. And, hello, captain of the football team!"
"Co-captain," Jessie interjected pointedly. You hung your head briefly with a laugh.
"I repeat - you could've had anyone."
Jessie subconsciously fidgeted with her hat and planted her feet further apart as she shifted down in her chair. "Well, didn't seem that way at the time."
"Wait - so who did you like?" You probed.
"No one," Jessie retorted, her features scrunching up as she played off the question dismissively. "I barely had time to breathe. There was no way I could date someone."
"You are so cagey sometimes," you said lightly, not being able to resist ribbing her once more. "Fine, so, what about now? Are you seeing someone?"
Jessie's composure was long gone and her face burned hot as your interrogation got her flustered. She took a subtle breath and worked to calm herself.
"No, no one's caught my eye just yet," she relayed.
You studied Jessie, discerning whether to drop the topic or not. You eventually relented as you crossed your arms and reclined in your chair.
"Well, I imagine that's not easy. There's a lot to live up to. And you're surrounded by impressive people every day, so the bar's gotta be high. Again, you can have your pick."
You grabbed your phone and looked it over quickly.
"I need to get going. I have a few errands to run still before the weekend's over," you said, a hint of regret in your voice before you offered a smile. "I had a great time though. It was so good to catch up with you."
Jessie removed her hat, running her fingers through her hair briefly before pulling the cap back down on her head.
"Yeah, I had a great time, too."
For the first time this conversation, a small lull formed and neither of you jumped to bridge it. Eventually, Jessie cleared her throat.
"Maybe we could get together again. Coffee. A drink. Whatever, really."
A mild look of surprise crossed your face, puzzling Jessie.
"Sure, I'd like that," you told her warmly as you shrugged on your jacket.
"Okay." Jessie gave you a small smile as she, too, rose from the table. "Will you be at the game next weekend?"
"I hadn't planned on it, but I could be." You smirked.
"No pressure," Jessie said as she felt that old nervousness begin to bubble up. "I could get you tickets if you ever want to go. That's all."
You smiled, looking at her in appreciation. "I'll have to take you up on that."
Jessie chuckled, but gave you a pointed look. "Honestly, you don't have to. I know you weren't a big soccer fan even in university."
"But," you started, drawing the word out and returning her pointed look, "I started going to games after becoming friends with a certain someone. I just haven't had a reason to go to a Thorns games yet."
Jessie resisted her impending blush and instead crossed her arms loosely in front of her, shifting her weight to one leg. "Okay, just let me know," Jessie said. She gave you a small nod. "And I promise these games are even better than Bruins ones."
You cocked your head, a hint of a smile on your face as you lifted a finger to your lips and narrowed your eyes in mock contemplation.
"What are they calling you these days? Midfield Maestro?"
Somehow, Jessie didn't even feel the urge to blush. Instead, she gave you a cocky smirk.
"So you really have been following my career."
She nearly grinned at how your cheeks flushed pink and you broke eye contact. You only took a moment to compose yourself and look back to Jessie with a half smirk.
"Hard not to," you simply said.
Jessie relented, feeling like she'd teased you enough. For now. She smiled and spoke earnestly.
"Offer stands - if you wants tickets, just let me know. Regardless, let's get together soon."
"Deal," you told her, your blush slowly fading.
There was a brief moment of stillness and uncertainty before you stepped forward and pulled Jessie into a hug. It only took her a moment to relax into it, her arms wrapping around you. Even though your body felt different now - so was hers - it felt natural to hold you close again.
You stayed like that for several moments, surprise and tampered excitement filling Jessie when you tightened your embrace before letting go. She noted the renewed colour on your cheeks when you stepped back.
"Text me?" You asked.
Jessie nodded. "Of course."
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Cheat
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Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: T Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist •
Summary: Marc cheats at games constantly.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: this is just self indulgent. I'm sorry.
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Warnings: reader is from the UK (get ready for some friendly USA vs UK), typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 828
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“But that’s cheating!” 
“No, it isn’t.”
“It is!” You try to keep the smile out of your voice, and put on an air of shocked indignation. Marc was notorious for cheating at board games, and card games, and any games where he thought he could get away with it. 
“How?” He asked calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. But there was a hint of glee in his eyes.
“You,” you gesture at him with your hand, nearly breaking into a laugh, “you can’t move like that.”
Marc doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, you can.”
“You can’t!”
“Who says?” He cocks his head to the side as he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in mock confusion. Though the little twitch of his lip gives him away. If there was one thing he loved more than cheating at games was pretending he actually wasn’t.
“I don’t know Marc, the rules?” 
“I don’t think so.” 
You pull your phone out of your pocket. “I’m looking them up, right now.”
“You’re just going to go and look at ‘pretend rules to suit my argument .com.” He shakes his head, a fake look of disgust plastered all over his features, as if you’re the one that’s going to try to deceive him.
“Firstly,” you try not to laugh, so as not to weaken your position. “That’s amazing, I am looking that up afterwards to see if it exists, and secondary-”
“I mean, it does exist, otherwise how else are you gonna go on it to look up the rules and pretend I can’t move like that?” 
You gawp at him for a second, grinning like crazy at his audacity. “Marc-”
“Hey,” he holds up his hands, “I’m just trying to play fair here, play by the rules-”
“When have you ever played by the rules?” 
“And you’re here, questioning my very legitimate move.” 
“Marc,” you giggle, “draught pieces cannot jump over empty spaces in a straight line.” 
“See, firstly,” he pulls a face, mocking your expression from before, “we’re playing checkers, that might be where you’re confused, because, in checkers-”
“Marc we are playing draughts,” you giggle and hold up the battered cardboard box, which clearly says ‘draughts’.
He shakes his head. “That’s a typo.”
“That’s a typo?” 
He nods, “of course, and-”
“Pretty big typo.” 
“British craftsmanship was never up to standard.”
“I’m gonna-”
“Now, now,” he grins, wagging his finger at you. “Violence never solved anything.”
“Says the American.” 
Marc gasps in fake hurt and puts his hand on his chest, “I’m so shocked that you would lower yourself to insulting my nationality.”
You laugh, “you just-”
“I would have thought such petty insults were beneath you,” he shakes his head in mock outrage. “I mean, I am so insulted right now.”
“You did it first!” You grin.
Marc just shakes his head and stares to the side. “I can’t even look at you right now. 
“Also draughts and checkers are the same game.”
“Now, you're insulting my American heritage, our cultural game of checkers, how could you?” His tone of voice is making it impossible not to laugh. 
“Marc-”
“I just can’t,” he stands, “If you’re not going to respect the game then,” he shrugs, “I don’t think we should play, let’s just end it here and say I won.” 
“No,” you get up, “I’m winning!” 
“Were you? Morally?” He teases.
“Yes!”
He takes a step closer to you. “And in the actual game?”
“Yes! That’s why you started cheating!” 
He leans closer, “I never cheat.” 
You place your hands on his cheeks and pull a face. “Liar.”
“How could you-”
“Don’t make me ask Steven to be the umpire.” You say playfully. 
“Oh yes,” he narrows his eyes at you. “The other Brit, I’m sure he’ll be completely unbiased.”
You laugh, “Fine, how about Jake?” 
Marc shakes his head, an over-the-top motion just for your amusement. “Can’t trust him.”
You gasp, “You can’t trust him?”
“Not in matters like this.”
“But he’s American.”
Marc shakes his head again, “he’s too blinded by your beauty to be impartial.” 
You smile, the sneaky compliment catching you off guard for a moment. “Blinded by my beauty?” 
“Hmm,” he nods, all fake seriousness. “It’s a real problem, luckily, I have developed a resilience to your charms.” 
“Oh really?” 
“Yes,” he nods again, but takes hold of your left hand and places a kiss to your inner wrist. “I am completely immune.” He punctuates the sentence by placing more kisses along your arm and sliding his other hand onto your hip, pulling you closer towards him until your chest is flush with his. 
“Completely immune.” You echo and nod sarcastically.
“Completely.” He nods back and places a soft kiss on your lips that quickly has you melting into him. He stays just as close when you break apart, keeping barely a centimetre of space between you. 
“You’re a terrible cheat, Spector.” 
He grinned. “You love it when I don’t play by the rules.” 
____________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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angelltheninth · 7 months
Text
Not a Game Anymore
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, kissing, D&D, teasing, making out, confession, grinding, mention of a boner, friends to lovers
Word count: 0.9k
A/N: In case you're not aware, I'm a huge D&D nerd. If you liked this fic please leave some feedback with comments/reblogs, I love hearing what you think.
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"And that is where we're gonna end it for tonight guys." Eddie clapped his hands, mostly to himself but also to everyone at the table, "Thanks for playing. It got intense there for little bit." Through absolutely no fault of his of course.
"Tense? I almost died to a fucking slime ball? How is that in any way fair?" Steve complained as he picked up his character sheet.
"At least you got a good item drop. What the hell am I supposed to do with a spell book? I'm a rouge." You went over your items list with a critical eye, "And a love potion? That seems a little too convenient given that the NPC is already in love with me, I don't need this."
"Sorry guys, it's not up to me. It's all in the dice and the rolls. You can sell those when you get back into town if you want." He looked so smug leaning back into his chair. He never cheated in a game, he just had insane luck as a DM, so there was not much anyone could get angry about, "I have something special planned for next week though, it's gonna be fun." As everyone packed up he noticed you hovering around a little, trying to peak into his character notes, "Hey! No peaking, you little cheat."
You sighed at getting caught, "Just making sure you really weren't the one cheating." Pretty soon it was just the two of you in the library, "Thanks for the game Eddie, it really was fun. If a little frustrating."
"A good DM has to give their players a challenge every once in a while. How you feeling about the romance? Am I still good to go on that front?" His eyes widened briefly when he realized that may have sounded like he was asking you out, "With the characters I mean, still okay?"
You smiled at his flustered face, it wasn't often that you got to see him like this, "Still fine. But..." You chewed on your bottom lip, "Don't go into too much detail. It would make me feel like I'm... well, I know we really wouldn't be but..." There was a part of you that thought about Eddie in that way, he was a handsome guy, charismatic, sweet to his friends and very creative.
"Oh? So if I were to say: he walks up to your character, pinning her against the desk," His smirk widened as he did just that, watching your expression go from flustered to wide eyed, "and kisses her right on the lips. Would you think of us doing the same thing?"
"No! Come on! You're... a friend! And a jackass for making fun of me!" You pushed him away but he held steady, gripping the edge of the table, his hands firmly on your sides, "Jerk. Stop being so close."
"Why? You thinking about kissing m-" You didn't just think about kissing him, you did kiss him, if only to shut him the hell up because you couldn't deal with his flirting anymore. He made a surprised noise from the back of his throat, a high-pitched sound that you never heard Eddie make before, "Not thinking. Okay."
You sighed, ducking your head, "Forget it. I... need some time alone, I'll..."
Eddie grabbed you by the hips and pressed his lips against yours again, "You know, a good part of roleplay is knowing what it feels like in real life. If you're up for it, I wouldn't mind for some inspiration." When you looked into his eyes you didn't see rejection or anger at your kiss, but curiosity and maybe the same feeling you've been feeling before. "What do you say?"
"Is this... all for the game?"
"Fuck no." His lips were on yours again, taking your next breath away and lifting you up onto the table, his body sliding between your legs, pushing himself on top of you without breaking the kiss. "Was hoping to do this in real life. Saw you reacted to the flirting and how you acted around me lately. I'm no genius but I can put two and two together." Eddie smirked at you, his tongue poking out to lick your lip, asking for more.
It was a request you happily granted with all your heart and body. As soon as your lips connected you arched into him, his body pushing back, urging you to get as close as possible. That was limited by your clothing but you could still feel the beginnings of his boner. "Heh, are you gonna make me roll to take my clothes off next?"
"Hm, that sounds like something you'd have advantage in, judging by the fact that you're very enthusiastic about this. But I have to point out that our characters have been on a date in game, but you and I haven't. I like to have even progress for all my players." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, still close, "That way we're gonna be on the same page and if you play your dice right you might get your close taken off sooner then you think."
How soon was too soon?
"That's in interesting game system you've got there, Eddie. In that case, since our characters already slept next to each other and I'm staying over, it's only fair that I sleep in your bed tonight." You can turn his game logic right back around.
"True, true. I wasn't gonna let you sleep on the couch anyway." With a slight grunt Eddie pulled you into his arms, his hands under your thighs, a dice rolling onto the floor at his feet, "I'll be damned, a Natural 20."
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bippiti · 2 months
Text
505 cl16
where you reminisce on your first love
wc 3k
an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3
(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)
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i'm going back to 505
you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.
you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.
while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-
you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh
you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.
wow. he was pretty. really pretty
you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.
"i'm so sorry again"
"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing
he has nice laugh
"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out
"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands
then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.
"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.
"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"
you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"
he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"
you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class
-
if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.
you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.
"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.
you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.
-
when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.
after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.
before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.
after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.
“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”
“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”
“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”
“really?”
“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”
with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.
you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.
“it's really good”
you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.
looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.
“you did so good, i love your painting style”
he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.
-
not shy of a spark
you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair
“charles talks about you a lot, you know”
“does he really” you said with a laugh
“he does, i think he likes you dear”
that shut you up, she smiled warmly
“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”
you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows
the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
-
I'm going back to 505
you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.
you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.
your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far
-
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.
he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.
pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.
he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.
you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.
"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"
you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal
-
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.
you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.
soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.
you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.
you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak
"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"
you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.
he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.
you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed
"are we really about to do this right now"
"yeah, i think we are"
you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.
soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,
'i've never done this before"
he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you
"neither have i"
you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?
he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up
"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"
you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.
"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly
"was it really?
"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting
you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.
“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.
he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.
you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.
he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this
-
but I crumble completely when you cry
it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.
it hurt. he hurt.
it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.
you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.
you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.
you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.
his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down
“i’ve been seeing someone else”
“i see”
at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.
he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.
you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.
you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.
never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again
-
i’m going back to 505
you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.
building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.
the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you
you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas
you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though
one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles
charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.
you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.
none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about
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rerefundslocals · 1 year
Text
drunk on lust j.jk
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Summary : drinking night with your best friend spills the truth upon secrets within you both.
>>paring - jungkook x fem!reader (she/her)
>>trope - best friends to lovers
>>genre - angst, fluff(smut in prt2)
>>warnings/tags - horny Kook, feeling and confessions, some tears, not many warnings as smut is in part 2.
a/n - soo this was supposed to be one thing but until I actually know how to put the keep reading thingy, my first will be longer, don't be shy, please help. But for now please enjoy and give feedback through reblogs or inbox me! Not proofread
~★~
"C'mon give me a kiss- infact make out with me and then make love with me. Pretty please ____."
"Jungkook, you drink too much beer. You're drunk." Internally his words make you hot inside.
Your feelings are kept at bay because you don't really want to ruin the ten year friendship with Jungkook. Though you always dream about having him in not so innocent ways, but that doesn't mean you don't think of the softer side of it.
Dreams of you holding his hand romantically in public, give him kisses when you feel like it and make love to him just like he'd said a minute ago,but it must be the alcohol in his system.
So you don't let it bug you too much.
"I'm not drunk, I seriously just want you." He smirks at you. It's a lazy seductive smirk, and definitely soaks your underwear right through. But your mind tells you it's inappropriate because the man is clearly drunk ; karaoke mic in his hand, the beat of the song acting as background music for this conversation.
Lips pulled into a light frown, you tell jungkook that, "it's time for bed, Kook."
"So yes? You'll make out with me and let me fill your cunt?"
"Jungkook, stop! Just stop it." You're hot all over. You wish he could stop putting ideas into your head and just call it night.
Just like every other night, the next morning is a harsh hangover and forgotten words.
"I'm sorry, love, I really am." He mutters, head thrown back with eyes closed, clear to see he I lulling to sleep.
"It's okay, Kook." You whisper.
You move closer to him out instinctively ; cuddling into his warm chest, your hand reaches up to his hair as you lightly brush his scalp.
Besides his words and his flirty demeanor, you nonetheless feel safe in his arms and everything almost feels the same, as if he wasn't talking about filling your cunt.
You irraduclly swallow your spit at that thought, focusing back on your mission, putting Jungkook to sleep.
Mission successful.
You know this because his snores and the burning candle are almost in sync.
You move even closer, if possible. Face tucked into jungkooks neck and his tattooed hand wraps around your waist, the blanket falling off your hips.
That's a normal night in Jeons household, the conversation long forgotten about and the mission is just sleep now.
~><~
The next morning is a cry for help as you turn to Jungkooks empty spot on the couch.
You can hear him throw up in his bathroom, the sounds making you jump off the couch to help your best friend.
Sliding onto your knees, next to Jungkook, you bunch up his hair in your hands allowing him more space to throw up ; your head is turned to the side as you avoid the smell of black noodles and beer.
"Holy shit." Jungkook, now leaned up against the wall mutters as he removes himself from your body.
"You okay, Kook? That was pretty bad." You ask.
He nods at you, simply standing up to flush the toilet and you feel dismissed as he walks out on you,not even muttering a thanks.
You wonder if it's still the hangover making him behave like that. It could be. The alcohol can't possibly wear off that quick.
That's what you tell yourself 3 hours later, sitting in jungkooks bed, cleaned up and feeling fresh as ever.
Except Jungkook hasn't spoken to you the whole day, only when he asked what you wanted on your pizza.
He is currently sat by his gaming setup, dressed in his black Nike tech, paired with socks and slides.
Most importantly, his incredibly sexy glasses.
You snap out of your sick thoughts as you stand up from the bed to finally get down to the bottom of this.
"Jungkook, can we talk?" You ask behind him.
He ignores you. As expected. He only responds to his teammates on the other side, shouting over at them to 'take cover'
Sighing with a prominent frown on your face, you shuffle on your feet, feeling really really sad. "I'll go home then. Goodnight." Despite him ignoring you, you'd never miss the chance to kiss him goodbye.
So you do that, leaning down to place a peck on his toned cheek.
Grabbing your duffel with a weight of a mini fridge, you start packing in your dirty laundry and other essentials you had left out in Jungkooks room, tant you had planned to keep for the whole week you were spending with him at his apartment.
But not anymore, you guess. The guy doesn't even want to talk to you.
"Where you going?" Pulled out from packing, you look up at Jungkooks hovering body over his nightstand, where you stand.
"I figured you didn't want me here, so I'm just leaving." Your response is straight forward.
"Oh, who said that?" Jungkook chuckles. For the first time today.
"I dont need to hear it from you. I can see it. Ever since this morning! You say different shit the night before but you're a different, bitter person the next day!"
"So what___ you want me to repeat the shit I said? I know why I did this. I figured you were uncomfortable so I gave you space." Almost shouting in response, Jungkook keeps his cool, his voice at a lower bass so he isn't scaring you away.
"You what-? I never once felt uncomfortable. I wouldn't have laid up with you or tried to help you if I want fucking uncomfortable, Kook." By the time youre done, the room is dead silent. It's just you and Jungkook locking eyes. Difference is yours are slightly watery, the tears threatening to fall.
At the Crack of your voice, you speak up, "I have feelings for you, Jungkook. What you said last night was under the influence of alcohol so I figured it meant nothing. And it probably still doesn't." You pause.
"You don't have to reciprocate my feelings, if it makes things awkward,I'll leave. I really am sorry that things turned out this way." When done with you mini speech, you turn away from him, continuing to pack.
He so then starts, "look, I...have feeling for you too and how I went about wasn't the best way. Yeah sure I was drunk and said some sexual stuff, and I do understand now that I should've been straight forward but you wouldn't believe me anyway. So yeah, ____. I feel the exact same way." He finishes.
You both stare into each other's eyes, shock in yours and hope in his.
"You really- really mean that?" You carefully ask. Not trying to ruin anything.
His lips lift in anticipation. A loving smile. "I mean that. Sorry it took so long. "
"It's okay. I kinda liked what you were saying." The last sentence was meant to be playful and Jungkook catches on, as his lips lift into a smirk.
Walking closer to you,hands in his pocket, and nose on yours. He whispers in question, "wanna make it come true?" You nod at him.
"I do."
~♥︎~
Part 2 here
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nyxvuxoa-writes · 2 years
Text
Thigh Riding - Eddie Munson
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
[ ⛧ ] A/N: This is my first Eddie story, so take it easy on me okay? Lol. Honestly, I haven't written a fic in a long while, so I am rusty. Lol. Everything is below the cut, as well as the tag list! Sorry for any errors that I may have missed!
[ ⛧ ] GENRE: NSFW, PWP [ ⛧ ] T/W: This story has you thigh riding Eddie! Begging to cum, finger sucking, a hard Eddie, and female orgasm. This is a straight-to-smut story! [ ⛧ ] Summary: You're straddling Eddie's thigh and his hand's grip on your hips while getting you to cum for him.
MINORS DNI - Please be over 18 when you interact on my blog!
Please don’t post any of my work anywhere else, do not steal, copy, or use parts of it. I work hard on my stories and they are not yours to steal. Thank you.
A cold chill moves up your spine, and goosebumps form against your skin as you feel Eddie's hands moving against your bare thighs. His rings are cold against your hot skin, cooling to the touch as he grips at you with a boyish cheeky grin plastered on his face. The site of you right now was something he could get used to. He licks at his lips, his dark eyes moving over your body, observing your figure as you slowly grind against his thigh. You are a needy little thing, and Eddie is eating it up. He loves the way you want him, how heated you get with him.
His eyes take a quick glance down at your lower half, noticing the wet spot that formed on the fabric of his jeans, and his smirk only gets bigger. "Awww, Princess, you're all wet." He chuckles, cooing at you as he raises his thigh up against your sensitive bud, pressing himself against you. You whimper as you lower yourself down more against his thigh, pressing onto him, nodding your head in some sort of attempt to acknowledge his words. "It's your fault." You mutter. He chuckles and bites at his lower lip slightly.
"How bad do you want me, baby?" He says softly to you, his hands grazing against your thighs again, giving you a slight squeeze with his fingertips. "You gotta show me." he adds. You wanted him badly, but he wanted to play this little game. He wanted to see how far you would go to show him how worked up he got you. Eddie's hand snakes up your thighs to your hips, gripping at them slightly as he leans back in his chair. He guides your motions against him, making sure you keep a steady pace to start off.
Reaching for his arms, your hands grip him back as you feel your hips being controlled in the meantime. A moan escapes you causing Eddie to groan in response. "That's it, Princess. Just like that." He encourages. Eddie's lips part in a heavy breath as his breathing picks up, feeling himself becoming hard because of you. Hearing his breathing pick up, you focus on it, your breathing starting to match his as your pace picks up. His fingers press a little more into your hips as your motions against him become a little rough, griding your sweet bud in a back and forth motion.
He lets out another groan at the sight of you and feels your motions against him. You were driving him crazy. As much as he wanted to slide himself into at this very moment, he wanted this to keep going. He needed it to keep going. As your pace picks up more, his hands wander from your hips to up your sides. He reaches for your shirt, going to strip it from your body. Helping him, you lift the shirt up and toss it to the floor, giving him a full and beautiful view of your breasts. He licks his lip and smiles. "Good girl. Keep going." He tells you as his one hand goes to hold your hip and another moves up to gently grip your throat.
You lean into the grip and moan, hearing the words that you loved to hear from him. You are his good girl, and he always made sure you knew it. Hearing his breathing, knowing he was hard, caused you to pick up your pace a bit more. Your moans for him become almost constant, little soft moans that were almost begging for him to fuck you. "Come on baby. Come on." He encourages you. "Keep going." He says softly, his eyes looking over your face with a hungry look.
Eddie's hand moves from your neck to let his fingers touch your lips. Opening your mouth you take in his fingers, your lips pressing around them as if he was sliding cock in. He groans heavily, feeling the wetness of your mouth and the way your lips press firmly around him. He closes his eyes a moment, focusing on the sensation of your griding hips and tongue lapping at his fingers. He feels the sensation of his hard self pressing against the fabric of his clothing and he's fighting off the urge to move his hips slightly to get some friction against his cock. A low moan comes from his lips as he opens his eyes back up and looks at you. "Fuck, Princess. The things you do to me." He whimpers at you.
Taking his fingers from your mouth, both hands go back to gripping at your hips as he guides your motions again, harder, faster against his thigh. You start to moan louder, your hands reaching for any part of him that you can touch and grab at. "Oh god!" You moan. "Fuck, Eddie! Eddie!" You cry out, feeling your body start to tremble against him. He smirks. "Come on baby! Beg for it!" He commands you, still guiding your motions against him. Your hands are gripping at him as you hold off your finish, feeling the tension move through your body like a wave of heat.
"Can I cum?! Please Eddie!" "How bad do you want it, Princess?" . "Bad! Please Eddie, please?!"
He licks his lips and smirks. "Cum baby! Cum for me!" He says as he keeps moving your hips against him. Your body shakes from head to toe as you shift your weight slightly, pressing your bud down against his jeans. You cry out, feeling a strong release, your body hot from the excitement. You ride out your finish, the motions of your hips slowing down before eventually coming to a stop on him. Looking at each other, you watch as Eddie licks his lips. "Good girl, Princess." He says in a breathy tone. He was far from done with you, he is still hard in his jeans, aching for you.
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[ ⛧ ] Tag List: @tellingyouastory @babeyglo @hopeisshere @theglitterymess @ianclairo @nxrdamp @lokiswh0reeee @reaganann @eddie-munsons-wife @sapphireplums @loveshineslikethesky @pinkfeatherboarry @stormyparker @urofficial-cyberslut @teenagegoateecollectorposts @scarlets-phases @sanzusmile @unhingedbabee @felicityofbakerstreet @anymoret0ri @ren-ni @voguesir @haiishodenki @inaayahuda @viczvaporub @cliffboothshawaiianshirt @dragon-ash13 @chantanaynay @drugrats @eddie-cliffs @thesuncitysworld @ariegoldhouse
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pulisicsgirl · 9 months
Text
breathe, you're okay - mason mount
summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is
pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader
word count: 2.9k
warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase
requested: no
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notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!
The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.
You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.
You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.
You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.
“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”
A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.
“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.
“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”
Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.
The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.
In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.
You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.
So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.
“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.
“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”
You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.
“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”
Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.
You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.
Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.
He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.
But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.
During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.
And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.
He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.
Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.
“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.
“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.
“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.
You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.
Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.
Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.
You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.
You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.
But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.
They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.
He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.
You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.
As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.
Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.
You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.
“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.
“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.
“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.
“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”
In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.
A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.
He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.
“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.
As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.
Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.
“You’re safe.”
“It’s gonna be okay.”
“I’ve got you.”
You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.
You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.
The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.
Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.
The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.
“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.
You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.
“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”
A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”
“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”
You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”
Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.
“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”
“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.
Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.
It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.
“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.
“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.
tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti
514 notes · View notes
kyleoreillylover · 4 months
Text
Attention
Summary: Sami figures out why you and Jey hate him, and gives you a different kind of attention you both have been craving.
warnings: smut, male, female receiving, top!sami, bottom reader, bottom jey.
pairings: Sami Zayn x fem!Black!Reader x Jey Uso
word count: 6,306
timeline: before war-games 2022
tagged: @southerngirl41@venusesworld@jeysbae@reci1996@tbones450 @steakwithasideofmashngravy @hope4more @selena-tyler-564@saintaquarius@whatdoeseverybodywant@raya-hunter01
a/n: I am sorry for this, just want to say that in advance. Samijey is 😩 Hope ya'll enjoy!
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Sami were sure that you and Jey had never hated anyone in your life more than you hated him.
Which is why he knew it was gonna be hard when Roman told him you and Jey were his responsibility, and as the Honorary Uce, needed to watch over you guys.
Sami tried, god did he try. But he just didn't know why you and Jey hated him. Jey would constantly undermine him, get into arguments with him, and the tension between them could always end in a fight.
You, on the other hand, didn't share that same anger. You just simply ignored him. If Sami asked you to do something, such as not attack other women, you would go and do the complete opposite. You didn't get angry with him, but somehow the silence was even more infuriating to Sami. It was like you didn't care about anything he said or did.
Which made Sami confused when Roman handed him a bag and keycard that opened the door to a luxurious suite in the finest hotel in town.
Sami blushed when he opened the bag and quickly closed it, gaping at Roman with a a mix of surprise and confusion. "What's all this for?" Sami stammered, glancing between the bag and Roman.
Roman smirked, crossing his arms. "For you, Jey and Y/N," he replied.
Sami couldn't help but feel skeptical, given the history of animosity. "But they hate me?"
Roman laughed at Sami's comment. "They don't hate you. They like you a little too much, and that's why they are acting like this. They don't want to seem weak, so they put up a tough exterior."
Roman's words puzzled Sami. He couldn't comprehend how being liked could translate into such hostility. Still, the prospect of a luxurious suite and Roman's assurance intrigued him. And Sami liked the both of you and wanted to make things better.
Sami raised an eyebrow, still unsure. "So, why the hotel suite?"
Roman grinned, enjoying Sami's confusion. "To get rid of all the sexual tension between the three of you."
Sami's eyes widened as he processed Roman's words. He stammered, "Wait, what? Sexual tension?"
Roman chuckled, clearly finding amusement in Sami's reaction. "Look, I can see it, and so can everyone else. You and Jey are practically at each other's throats, and Y/N is being quiet because she finds you intriguing, and doesn't wanna embarrass herself. The sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. So, I thought a little getaway might help relieve some of that tension and bring you three closer together."
Sami's face turned several shades of red as he processed Roman's words. "You're suggesting a getaway to… what, exactly?" Sami couldn't deny the chemistry between him, you and Jey, but he never thought it was perceived as sexual tension. The idea of a hotel suite to resolve such matters left him bewildered.
Roman smirked knowingly. "Just relax, Sami. Have a great night, and when I see the three of you tomorrow I want there to be no more hostility. And that's an order, Sami."
With that, Roman beckoned Sami out of his office, and Sami stood there, still trying to wrap his head around Roman's unexpected directive. As he walked out of Roman's office, he clutched the bag and keycard in his hands, contemplating the surreal situation he found himself in.
He made his way to the luxurious suite, wondering how exactly this getaway was supposed to dissolve the tension between him, Jey, and you. Sami hesitated before using the keycard to open the door, half-expecting a prank or some kind of setup.
Upon entering, Sami was taken aback by the opulence of the suite. The room was adorned with lavish furnishings, and the atmosphere screamed extravagance. He couldn't help but think, "How is this going to solve anything?"
As Sami explored the suite, he noticed three separate bedrooms, each with its own ensuite bathroom. He saw you and Jey talking in one of the bedrooms, the tension palpable even from a distance. Sami hesitated, unsure of how to approach the situation.
You and Jey glanced at Sami as he entered the room, the air thick with awkwardness. You stopped talking and cleared your throat, while Jey glared at Sami, standing up and crossing his arms. "What are you doing here? Roman's supposed to room with us." Jey grumbled.
Sami, still processing the unexpected turn of events, stammered, "Uh, Roman said this suite is for all three of us. He's rooming with Solo and Jimmy, so uh, sorry about that."
Sami was trying to finds signs that the two of you liked him more than you let on. He set the bag down before addressing the tension between them.
"Look, I know things have been rocky between us, but Roman said we need to get along, so we might as well make the best of this situation." Sami didn't mention the sexual tension part, but acknowledged the need to address the tension.
Jey scofffed and folded his arms, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "I ain't one for playing nice, but if Roman wants it, fine. Just stay out of my way."
With that, Jey glared at Sami one last time before going to the bathroom, leaving you and Sami in awkward silence.
Sami turned to you, his expression a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. "And you?" he asked, trying to gauge your reaction.
You met Sami's gaze, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "I don't mind playing nice," you replied, your tone suggesting a hint of mischief. "But you'll have to keep up, Sami."
Sami couldn't help but chuckle nervously at your response. "I'll do my best," he said, a bit more at ease knowing that at least one of you seemed open to the idea.
You quickly went back to being silent though. It wasn't your fault, it was Sami's fault because of that damn shirt he was wearing. The shirt was tight, accentuating his muscles, and you found it distracting. Sami noticed your sudden silence and couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and self-consciousness.
Sami cleared his throat, attempting to break the awkward silence. "So, um, what do you guys want to do? I mean, Roman did get us this fancy suite, might as well enjoy it, right?"
You shrugged nonchalantly, your eyes nervously still fixed on Sami. If you didn't leave in the next 5 seconds, you were gonna jump his bones. "You know what, Jey was right. Just stay out of my way." You got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Sami standing there, bewildered by your abrupt dismissal.
Was that a blush on your face as you walked away? Sami couldn't help but feel a mix of confusion and intrigue. He glanced over at Jey, who was emerging from the bathroom with a scowl on his face.
"Great, now you've scared her off," Jey muttered, shooting a glare at Sami.
Sami, still trying to process the situation, defended himself. "I didn't do anything! She just… left."
Jey rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever. Just stay out of my way, and we won't have any problems."
As the tension lingered in the air, Sami realized that Roman's plan might be more challenging to execute than he initially thought. The luxurious surroundings did little to ease the palpable discomfort between the three of them.
Sami decided to take a moment to gather his thoughts. He needed to prove his theory that you both liked him, so he changed into a more revealing shirt, and shorts, hoping to gauge your reactions.
When he came out of the bathroom, he didn't miss the way Jey's eyes widened slightly, and your gaze lingered for a moment before you averted your eyes. Sami couldn't help but smirk, feeling a small sense of victory.
Jey raised an eyebrow, trying to appear unimpressed. "Why the hell you wearing shorts in a hotel suite?" Jey grumbled.
Sami shrugged casually. "Just trying to be comfortable, Uce. Roman did say we're here to relax and get along, right?"
Jey scoffed, trying not to let his eyes linger to Sami's ass. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't make this any weirder than it already is."
You licked your lips nervously, your eyes flickering between Sami and Jey. The tension in the room seemed to shift, taking on a different, more charged quality. Sami, feeling a bit emboldened by the reactions he was getting, decided to take a playful approach.
"Well, since we're supposed to get along and all," Sami grinned, "how about we make the most of this fancy suite? Maybe order some room service, watch a movie, or, you know, just enjoy the amenities."
Jey sighed, clearly not thrilled with the idea but willing to go along with Roman's directive. "Fine, whatever. But I'm not sharing my food."
"Not even with me?" You pouted playfully, and Jey's eyes softened at your playful expression. Sami couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as it seemed like the atmosphere was starting to lighten up, even if just a little.
"Only with you though. Not this fucking fool." And there goes the sexual tension, Sami thought to himself. He chuckled, realizing that Roman might have been onto something after all.
"I'll grab the food." Jey announced, standing up and heading towards the door to get room service. If he spent another second in the room with Sami and you, he was afraid things might escalate in a way he didn't want them to. And he hated himself for that.
As Jey left, Sami turned to you with a frown. "Why does he act like that? I mean, it's like he's on edge all the time."
You shrugged, nervously watching the door as Jey left. "Jey's always been a bit intense. Takes time to warm up to people, I guess." Sami noticed your leg bouncing restlessly, a sign of unease. Without thinking, he placed his hand on your leg, attempting to offer some comfort. You looked at his hand on your leg, the heat and intensity in your gaze catching Sami off guard.
"I think I'm gonna help Jey get some food." You tried to run away for the second time, but this time Sami was quick to catch your arm gently.
"Wait, Y/N! Can you please stop running away from me when I feel like we make progress?" You paused, looking at Sami with a mix of surprise and vulnerability. Sami could see the internal struggle in your eyes.
"I'm not running away," you insisted, your tone defensive. "I just don't like you."
Sami scoffed, releasing your arm but maintaining eye contact. "Oh really? Then why the nervous glances and the pouting earlier? And don't think I didn't notice the way you looked at me just now."
"Don't flatter yourself Sami. How was I even looking at you just now?" you retorted, crossing your arms and trying to regain composure.
Sami leaned in, a serious expression on his face."Like you wanted me to do something you wouldn't admit out loud."
Your cheeks flushed, and took a step back, a mix of defiance and uncertainty in your eyes. "I hate you, and that's never going to change."
Sami couldn't help but smirk, seeing through your attempt at defiance. "That's not what Roman said." Sami moved closer, the tension between you two palpable. "And I'm starting to believe him."
You pulled away abruptly, the intensity of the moment catching you off guard. "Whatever Roman said doesn't matter. I don't care what he thinks," you muttered, avoiding Sami's gaze.
Sami chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "God, you and Jey are so fucking stubborn."
You bristled at his comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sami grinned, his playful demeanor returning. "It means you both run away whenever you feel like you are not in control."
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. "I do not run away!"
"You were just about to when I stopped you," Sami pointed out, his tone teasing.
"No, I was gonna help Jey with the food," you retorted, sticking to your defense.
Sami raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sure, sure. Because running to Jey is definitely not a way to avoid dealing with this." He paused, studying your reaction.
"Shut your mouth!" You grabbed Sami by the collar and stared at him, a mixture of frustration and something else in your eyes. Sami couldn't help but notice the sudden change in the atmosphere, the fiery intensity replacing the previous tension.
Sami, now closer to you, felt the heat radiating between you two. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny. He could sense the internal struggle within you, the conflict between the proclaimed hatred and the underlying tension. "Shut your mouth."
Sami licked his lips, his gaze locked with yours. "Stop running away from this."
You breathed heavily, your grip on Sami's collar tightening. "Stop saying that!" You tightened your grip on his collar, your eyes narrowing in frustration. Sami, sensing the intensity of the moment, couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline.
In that charged silence, Sami decided to take a risk and push you a bit more. "Why? That's what you do. You run away from things that make you uncomfortable."
"Shut. Your Mouth." You paused, your lips dangerously close to Sami's. The room felt like it was closing in, the air thick with a tension that neither of you could escape.
"It's in your blood. Running from things that you hate."
"Stop..." you whispered, your tone low and filled with a mix of anger and something Sami couldn't quite place.
Sami could feel a breakthrough coming, and knew he couldn't stop pushing until he got some answers. "Why? You hate me, so why should what I say matter to you?"
"Because I'm fucking attracted to you, okay-" You stopped breathing when you realized what you admitted. Sami's eyes widened, registering the shock and vulnerability in your confession. The room seemed to freeze for a moment as the weight of your words hung in the air.
You let go of Sami's collar, taking a step back, your face flushed with embarrassment. Sami, still processing your confession, couldn't believe what he just heard.
"You… what?" Sami stammered, a mix of surprise and realization crossing his face.
"I said it. Are you happy now?" You snapped, your previous defiance replaced with a sense of vulnerability.
Sami, still in shock, managed to mumble, "I… I didn't expect that."
"Well, now you know. So, can we drop it and go back to pretending we hate each other?" You tried to regain control of the situation, avoiding eye contact with Sami.
Sami, however, couldn't ignore the bombshell you just dropped. "No, wait. Y/N, are you serious?"
You sighed, frustration evident in your expression. "Yes, Sami. I hate that I'm attracted to you, but there, I said it. Happy now?"
Yes, Sami was actually happy. Very happy. And he wasn't gonna let you run away from him this time. He saw the signs of you about to succumb to the tension, and he wasn't about to let it slip away.
Sami took a step closer to you, his eyes now filled with a newfound confidence. "Then do something about it."
You looked at Sami with a mixture of surprise and defiance. Your confidence was shaky at Sami's bluntness. Now it was you who was stuttering. "I-I'm sorry… What?"
Sami smirked at your stunned expression. "You heard me. If you're attracted to me, stop running away and do something about it."
He was giving you control of the situation, challenging you to act on your admission. The room seemed to pulsate with the unresolved tension between you and Sami. You hesitated, your mind racing, but something in Sami's gaze urged you to confront the feelings you had been suppressing.
As you gathered your thoughts, Sami took another step closer, closing the distance between you two. His eyes bore into yours with a mixture of intensity and anticipation. "I won't let you run away this time, Y/N."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to face what was happening. "I can't believe I'm doing this," you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to Sami.
Sami chuckled, a hint of triumph in his expression. "Hey, you said it yourself. You're attracted to me. No shame in admitting it."
Rolling your eyes, you decided to seize the moment. You closed the gap between you and Sami, surprising him as you pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a mixture of pent-up tension, frustration, and an unexpected surge of desire.
Sami, taken aback by your bold move, quickly reciprocated. The room seemed to fade away as you both surrendered to the magnetic pull between you. The initial fiery intensity softened into something more passionate, and for a moment, the history of animosity vanished.
You groaned in pleasure as your fantasies came true as Sami reciprocated the kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist.
The tension that had built up between you two finally found its release in that electrifying moment. The kiss became an exploration of shared desire, and it seemed like all the animosity that existed between you and Sami was being used in a much more pleasurable way.
"What the hell going on?" Jey's voice made Sami break the kiss in a panic, not knowing how he was going to react. You, on the other hand, gave Jey a knowing look and pulled Sami into a heated embrace. Sami, still catching his breath, looked at Jey with a mix of surprise and defiance.
Jey stood there, his eyes narrowing as he processed the unexpected scene before him. "What the hell, Y/N?" he exclaimed, clearly caught off guard. His lower half heated up at the sight of the two of you entwined in a passionate kiss. Sami, still holding you close, tried to gauge Jey's reaction, unsure of what would come next.
You broke the kiss, your gaze shifting between Sami and Jey. "Well, Roman did say to get along, right?" you quipped, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Jey was trying not to blow his load right then and there. So he switched back to anger, crossing his arms and scowling. "Y/N…"
But you could see right through him. "Jey, it's fine. It's okay. Sami understands." You gave Sami a reassuring smile, silently communicating that you were in control of the situation. "Come sit on the bed with us."
Jey's scowl deepened, his eyes flickering between you and Sami. "Y/N, I aint think I should-"
"Sit on the bed, Jey." Your voice turned commanding, leaving no room for argument. Jey, despite his initial resistance, found himself complying and reluctantly took a seat on the bed, eyeing the two of you with a mixture of confusion and frustration.
Sami thought Jey's scowl meant he was about to witness a whole new level of animosity, but to his surprise, Jey's expression shifted from anger to something more complex.
Sami, still holding onto you, exchanged a glance with Jey. The tension in the room was undeniable, but it wasn't the hostile kind they were used to. Instead, it was a charged atmosphere filled with unspoken desires and unexpected connections.
You sat between Sami and Jey, looking at both of them with a mixture of determination and curiosity. Sami, feeling a bit nervous about what might unfold next, glanced at Jey, who was still processing the situation.
"Okay, let's talk about this," you said, breaking the charged silence. "Jey, he knows."
Jey glared at your words. "Knows what?"
You rolled your eyes, frustration evident in your tone. "That I like him. And I think he should know that you like him too."
Jey scoffed, looking away. "What are you talking about? I don't like him."
You shot him a skeptical look. "Jey, no one is gonna judge you-"
"I don't like him!" Jey shot a defensive response, but the intensity in his eyes told a different story. "I hate him! His stupid eyes, weird hair, annoying voice…"
Sami couldn't help but smirk at Jey's vehement denial. "Wow, Uce, really selling it there."
Jey shot Sami a warning glare. "Shut up, Sami. I ain't into you."
You crossed your arms, unconvinced. "Jey, you don't have to pretend. It's okay to have feelings, you know?"
Jey grumbled, avoiding eye contact. "Feelings? I don't have feelings for him-" He was cut off by your lips on his, effectively silencing his protests. The room fell into a charged silence once again as you kissed Jey passionately, catching him off guard.
Sami watched the unexpected turn of events with a mix of amusement and surprise. Jey, after a moment of resistance, found himself responding to the kiss. The tension in the room took on a different, more intimate quality.
As you pulled away, Jey looked at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "What the hell, Y/N?"
You smirked, your eyes flickering between Sami and Jey. "I like you too Jey, and I know you like me too. And you also like Sami. So can you stop being stubborn for one fucking second and just admit it?"
Jey sat there, still processing the whirlwind of emotions and the unexpected turn of events. Sami couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and satisfaction at the unfolding drama.
"Y/N, this ain't right," Jey finally muttered, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and frustration.
You sighed, about to respond, but surprisingly Sami interrupted, his eyes reassuring and his voice filled with an unexpected understanding. "Jey, it's okay. We're all adults here. If you like me, that's nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don't, that's fine too. But pretending won't help any of us."
Jey glared at Sami, still processing the situation. "This is messed up. We're not supposed to… I don't know, do this."
You rolled your eyes, a hint of impatience in your tone. "Jey, we're all consenting adults. Roman gave us this suite to resolve the tension, and this seems like a pretty effective way to do it. Stop being ashamed of your feelings, we aren't going to let anyone judge us for it."
Jey scowled, clearly torn between his usual tough exterior and the complex emotions surfacing. He trusted you, and deep down he trusted Sami, but he didn't trust his own emotions to guide him through this uncharted territory.
It felt like hours as you and Sami waited for a response, and you honestly thought he would leave and try to distance himself from the situation.
However, to your surprise, Jey took a deep breath, grabbed Sami by the collar, and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Sami squeaked in surprise as Jey kissed him so hard he almost stumbled backward, Jey's previous denial melting away in that passionate moment.
Jey licked at Sami's lips, his hands gripping Sami's shirt tightly. The room seemed to crackle with the intensity of the unexpected embrace, and you watched with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.
As the kiss deepened, Jey pulled away, his eyes locking with Sami's. There was a raw, unspoken understanding between them, a connection that went beyond words. Sami, still a bit stunned, looked at Jey with a newfound sense of realization.
"I hate you," Jey muttered, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Sami chuckled, his usual playful demeanor returning. "Kiss me again."
Jey obliged, and the fire crackling in him erupted as Sami responded with equal intensity. The room became a battleground of desires, each kiss fueled by the complex emotions that had been hidden for far too long. As their lips met, it was as if the animosity and tension between them had transformed into a fiery passion that couldn't be contained.
Jey groaned as your lips met the soft skin on his neck, letting you leave a trail of kisses. The atmosphere in the room had shifted dramatically, and the initial tension had evolved into something more intoxicating. Sami, caught in the whirlwind of desire, couldn't help but reciprocate with fervor.
It was clear that control was not something you and Jey gave up easily. He could tell by the way you tried to push Jey onto the bed while Sami continued to kiss him. Jey, however, wasn't one to be easily dominated. He broke the kiss, giving Sami a defiant look.
"Y/N, I think we need to establish some ground rules here," Jey said, his voice low and commanding.
You smirked, enjoying the playful power struggle. "Oh? And what rules are you thinking of, Jey?"
Jey glanced at Sami before turning his attention back to you. "I'm in charge here."
You nipped at Jey's earlobe, teasingly challenging his declaration. "That's cute."
Jey tried to glare at you, but there was no heat behind it. He paused, his eyes flickering between you and Sami. "Get on the bed, and take off your clothes."
You giggled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Make me." You kissed him hungrily, the two of you getting lost in each others lips, not noticing Sami grabbing the bag and taking something out of it.
Before any of you could respond, you were both flipped onto the bed by Sami, and in the flash of an eye, handcuffed you both to the bedposts. The sudden turn of events left both you and Jey wide-eyed and surprised.
"What the hell, Sami?" Jey exclaimed, trying to tug at the handcuffs.
Sami chuckled, a sly grin on his face. "You guys have been getting on my nerves for the past couple of months, and you really think either one of you could be in charge? Not a chance in hell."
You and Jey exchanged surprised glances, realizing that Sami had just turned the tables on both of you. Jey, still trying to process the sudden change, muttered, "This ain't what I signed up for."
Sami laughed, his confidence evident. "Well, now you're stuck with me." He glanced at both of you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "And I think it's about time we all stop running away from what we really want."
Heat spread through your body as Sami set his hands on your hips, his gaze lingering on both you and Jey. His gaze made Jey's skin tingle, and he couldn't deny the unexpected excitement that coursed through him.
Sami leaned in, placing a teasing kiss on your lips, then moving to Jey. Jey, despite his initial protests, seemed intrigued by the sudden turn of events, and moaned into Sami's lips when his hand grazed his hard on, and you let out a similar moan when Sami's other hand gently traced a path on your inner thigh.
"You think you can handle both of us, Sami?" Jey challenged as he groaned out, a smirk playing on his lips.
Sami grinned, a newfound confidence in his demeanor. "Trust me, I'm more than up for the challenge."
___________________
Sami never thought he would be in the same room as you and Jey without an argument, let alone getting along.
But right now, you guys were more than getting alone, your weight on his face intoxicating as you sat on it while Jey rode Sami's cock like his life depended on it.
The only sounds in the room were the moans Sami forced out of you both that you tried and failed to hide, and Sami's grunts as he tasted your sweetness and Jey milked his cock.
"You're so fucking annoying Sami, but goddamn you fuck so good-oh, god, right there, right there!"
Sami thrusted upwards to stop Jey's complaining and smirked as he made him choke on a moan, giving into Jey's commands and thrusting into that same spot over and over.
Sami let out a moan himself as you grinded on his face, tugging at his hair and letting out unintelligible moans as Sami's tongue worked wonders on your clit, sucking and licking in ways that had you shaking in pleasure. 
"Not so quiet now, huh?" Sami teased you as he slid his fingers into the mix and you let out your loudest moan of the night, not even able to speak coherently. You nodded your head and tugging at Sami's hair like it was the only thing keeping you sane.
"That's what I thought, baby." Sami's voice had a cocky hint to it, and it made you melt into him even more.
Jey clenched his walls against Sami's cock, biting his lip so hard to try and suppress his moans from escaping as he tried to reach his high. Sami's other hand snaked down to grip Jey's member roughly, and Jey gasped at the feeling, his hips bucking upwards into hand.
"Right there Sami! Fuckkkk, right there! Right there, right there!!"
Sami chuckled and began pumping furiously, his fingers so fast and so strong it was difficult to breathe. How did Sami know exactly where to touch and when to stroke to make Jey lose his mind? How did he know exactly how to make you both lose your minds together without breaking either one of you apart?
You couldn't even remember how long this whole scene had been going on for; your senses were overwhelmed and you'd barely noticed anything else. 
Sami increased his pace when he noticed you both nearing your highs, your voice finally coming back when Sami sucked on your swollen clit so hard and his fingers  pumped faster than ever before.
"Sami, fuck, keep doing that please, oh fuck, oh God, yes!" You yelled out, your voice hoarse and legs trembling uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm approaching.
You whined when Sami slowed down at your words, his arms going down to still Jey's movements. Your head fell back to the mattress, your breath ragged and heavy as Jey panted loudly, his head thrown back and sweat coating his body as he continued to try and ride Sami's dick.
"Sami..." Jey groaned in protest as Sami's hands stopped him from riding Sami's cock, his own breathing heavily as his release built slowly, but steadily.
"Admit that you don't hate me." Sami's deep voice vibrated inside you, sending chills through your entire body. He pulled his lips away from your pussy, his dark brown eyes staring straight into both your souls.
Jey tried to say something, but couldn't come up with anything, unable to formulate a reply to Sami's words. His throat tightened as he stared at Sami, unable to break free of his hypnotic stare. 
 You closed your eyes tightly, trying to grind yourself on Sami's face, trying to get back to the high, but Sami  was having none of it. He stopped your movement, his thumb caressing you lovingly in his hand, making you whimper and open your eyes.
He leaned in, his face inches away from yours as he whispered, "Say it."
"Fuck man..I don't hate you." Jey finally managed to get out as the desperation for release hit him, his heart pounding painfully against his rib cage as Sami 's intense stare bore into his eyes.
"Y/N?" At this point you thought Sami enjoyed toying with you both, as all you could think of was him eating you out and sucking on your clit like you both had been starving. A shiver went down your spine at the thought of Sami doing that with Jey.
"Yes Sami?" You answered breathlessly as your face heated.
"Tell me you don't hate me." Sami replied softly. It was almost impossible to hear him speak.
Your face flushed crimson, yet a smile crossed your lips. This game was becoming too much. You licked your lips nervously and looked at him, trying to ignore the way his intense gaze affected you, and you answered quietly. "No... I don't hate you."
Sami smiled wickedly at you, his gaze softening. He finally got you both to release your stubborn defenses and open up to him (in more than one way.) "Good." 
Then he continued his ministrations, and both you and Jey moaned in unison as you both quickly went back to chasing your highs once again. Sami felt his own orgasm approaching with every moan you let out and Jey's cock milking his own, but pushed it away to  concentrate on the two of you.
He kept on stroking and letting Jey thrust into him, making sure each and every moan you released came out of you both like a symphony, the sounds echoing against the wall like a thousand music notes that all blended and intertwined and created a beautiful harmony.
"Oh god," Jey breathed out, his eyes shut in ecstasy as Sami kept hitting his prostate relentlessly, sending waves of pleasure surging through him.
You couldn't help the cries of pleasure that escaped you as well, your whole body quivering as your orgasm approached. Both of you had reached the peak of your arousal and were struggling for another breath.
"I'm so fucking close Sami, don't you dare fucking stop." Jey's voice was hoarse with arousal as he begged Sami to keep going. "I won't, I promise." Sami assured him softly.
Sami smiled at how desperate Jey sounded and he sped up, wanting you both to be satisfied, but the moment his fingers brushed against your clit again, you shot upwards with such force he was certain you would crack your neck if him and Jey weren't holding onto your legs, his name falling from your lips like a prayer of pure bliss.
"Sami, right there, right there-Samiiii!!" You chanted as your walls convulsed around Sami's fingers and mouth, Sami's other hand going down to Jey and stroking his throbbing length as you were still moaning and panting, and Jey was fucking gone.
"Samiiiii!" Sami's name was the only thing Jey could muster up as his orgasm consumed him entirely, spilling its sweet, salty taste into Sami. Jey's sweet noises triggered your own orgasm, and you shuddered as Sami licked your sweet juices as you rode his face, licking slowly to ease you from your high. 
Sami grunted lowly as he orgasmed himself, spilling his seed into Jey, who was closing his eyes in overstimulation but waiting for Sami to finish. And as soon as he were finished you fell limp against Jey, your body completely spent from your climax. 
Sami smiled at the sight of the both of you passed out on each other, feeling pride and elation at finally winning a battle for control. 
"You both okay?" Sami asked sweetly, leaning down to kiss both your cheeks gently while brushing the hair out of your eyes.
Jey grumbled incoherently, his mouth forming a frown as he rolled over so he was facing his bedsheets. "Yeet."
Sami just laughed at him fondly and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and kissing your cheek lightly.
"What about you?" You groaned and turned to face him properly, pressing your nose into his chest. "Mmmm, mmm I'm tiredddd.... So very tired." Sami rubbed circles onto the small of your back soothingly, giggling at your adorableness and letting out a content sigh. 
"Rest up. I'm not finished with either of you tonight."
It took you several seconds to register his words and then you smirked devilishly, rolling up onto your elbows and staring at him teasingly. "You're bluffing."
Sami raised an eyebrow at you. You should know by know he never bluffs when it comes to you and Jey. He adjusted both your handcuffs so you could move more with them, and Jey also rolled onto his side so he now faced you as well, his hand reaching out to brush your curls aside.
"Man, you just wore us out. Wait a damn minute." Jey grumbled into your neck before kissing you deeply, his tongue swirling inside of your mouth eagerly.
"Didn't you just say to wait a minute?" Sami teased , his finger tracing patterns on Jey's stomach. Jey sucked in a breath as Sami pressed a little harder into him, before you gently pushed Sami off of Jey and straddled him, making Jey groan as his dick  jerked beneath you.
"Not now, I need time, I'm still kinda sore." Jey muttered after pulling away from you slightly.
"Hmmm... we can give you some time." Sami responded suggestively, his hand cupping your ass and pulling you downwards so you could lay down with him.
Jey instantly hardened again when he heard your mounds of pleasure and looked up to see Sami licking a stripe up your ass,  his other hand moving down your thigh until he reached your wet pussy, his hot, rough fingers gliding across your folds as he slid one of his fingers into you with ease. 
Jey tugged on Sami's leg to get his attention, since he was still handcuffed and had limited mobility. Sami chuckled at Jey's pouty look, and looked down to meet Jey's eyes, and understood what Jey wanted.
You whined at the loss of Sami's hand and mouth on you, but that whine turned into a moan as Sami lifted you and placed you on Jey's cock,  his thick shaft filling you completely while Sami filled you up from behind, his own moans of pleasure making you feel even hotter. 
"I told you, tonight I'm in control." Sami growled out his promise into your ear huskily as he started rocking his hips against yours, making your moans turn into loud gasps, in turn making Jey groan against your neck.
Let's just say, for the rest of the night he defiantly made sure to keep that promise.
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dungeonpuppykai · 11 months
Text
|| Bliss ||
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Description: What happens when a spoiled and disgraced Princess is handed off to an ex-Winter Soldier as a strategy for the royal family to be rid of her and ensure the Soldier's loyalty to them at the same time?
Pairing: Dark Ex-Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Brat Princess!Reader.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier arc. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Dub-con, Dark!Bucky, arranged marriage, Brat!Reader, Brat Tamer!Bucky, spanking, exhibitionism, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, dumfication, pet names, blow job, gagging, choking, cock warming.
Note: Thank you all so so much for the love on this story! You have no idea how dear I hold it and each and every one of you to my heart! Muah!! <333 The chapter is unedited, I am sorry </3 Also, I did my best to tag everyone and if anyone got left out I am very sorry this story is my first time doing these lists and I am not very good at them 🩷
STORY MASTERLIST 
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IV
"Did you put on that show at breakfast for the Queen to see, sweets?" James raised an eyebrow at his wife after he joined her at the backseat of the SUV that would drive them to their part of the Kingdom. 
She had refused to bid farewell to anyone after behaving quite well at breakfast upon his order, or rather, threat that he had given her when they had had their bath in the morning.
James would not tolerate being husband to an out of control wife. He knew exactly how to put a leash on little deviants such as Her Highness.
Then Y/n had acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, nodding obediently when he informed her that the cars were ready for them and his men before exiting the Palace whilst her family had watched her back expectantly.
"What are you talking about, James?" The bride from last night was barely there anymore as she lied through her teeth. His jaw ticked. "I have no idea whatever you mean." 
The man sighed, sitting back as he shook his head and hooked an arm around her back. "Now, what did I tell you about lying to me last night?" She was staring out the window but he could tell she was pouting. 
"I am not." 
Oh, he was going to have so much fun crushing this pathetic little brat of his.
James clicked his tongue. "So you are lying to your husband after you used him like a disposable pawn in your little game with your mother-"
"Step-mother" the Princess corrected him, turning around to look him in the eyes with her agitated ones.
He raised an eyebrow. "So you are admitting it, then?"
"I didn't do it to disrespect you" her eyes turned soft and eyebrows furrowed worriedly. "I just-"
The Chief clicked his tongue. "Come on up" his vibranium hand patted his lap. "Little girls like you cannot just make and execute their own decisions. You need to learn your place." 
Her bottom lip jutted out. "But–"
"Butts get spanked and fucked, come on" his words made a blush and giggle burst out and into her shy hands unexpectedly. For both. He hadn't meant to say it. It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
James wasn't a boy that said things like these.
But he still did.
And her response made it worth it.
He could get used to this.
"James!"
Was he trying to compensate for the centuries long generational gap?
For her?
"I haven't even done anything and you're already this worked up" the embarrassment on her shy face worked him up in the best way. Her real self was so different from the facade she put up. So easy. So soft. So fragile to crush and plunder. "Tsk, Mrs. Barnes. What am I going to do with you, hm?" His hand pushed at her ass. 
"Not too painful, please?" Y/n batted her lashes at him prettily. 
The driver was so uncomfortable James could sense it. But he dared not glance at them through the rearview mirror. He wouldn't. If he cared to keep his eyes and head. 
"Stalling will only add to your punishment, sweets." A small whine left her as she pouted and crawled his lap begrudgingly with her head lowered. 
"No fair" she whispered so softly under her breath that it made her gasp when he responded. 
There would be a lot of getting used to to an enhanced man.
"I'll tell you what isn't fair." Pushing her dress up to her waist, James placed his non-human arm over her back to press her in place. "What isn't fair is lying to me when I have been nothing but a good husband to you" spanking both her clothed cheeks at the same time, he peeled her underwear off. "What isn't fair is you using me as a pawn to deny your step-mother her satisfaction" a loud whine filled the air when he rained down spanks on her already hurt and bruised bottom. 
"James, please! Husband, please! It hurts so much!" Y/n's legs kicked in defense, ass trying to dodge his hits. 
"It hurts, does it?" He feigned surprise, removing his arm from her back to hold her by the hair at the back of her head, pulling it closer so he could whisper in her ear. "Then why are you so wet, baby?" James' eyes were trained on the rearview mirror, watching the nervous driver carefully to make sure he wouldn't steal a glance. 
No one except him could see his wife in this state.
"You've made such a mess on my hand, look" moving her head by her hair to allow her an easier view of his hand that he had been spanking her with, the Chief showed her his wet fingers. "Tsk, what a dirty little girl I have here."
Y/n blushed and bit her lip, embarrassed yet aroused. "Please…"
"Please what, hm?" Letting go of her hair, his hand now reached for her throat for a better grip, still holding her face close to his lips. "Need husband to take care of you?" A smirk made it's way on his face when she whimpered in response to his other hand caressing her sensitive ass. 
"... Y- Yes, please…" Biting her lip, the Princess pushed her ass up and into the Chief's fingers when they travelled down the crack of her ass, resting at her wet entrance. 
"Here?"
"Yes!" It was pulsating with need. "Yes, please, James! Right there!" 
The man's digits circled and rounded her entrance like a beast does its prey, coating themselves in her slick before spreading it over her touch-starved folds. Lewd hums and moans started to flow out of the girl's mouth in response, hips swaying and fingers gripping the man's thigh.
"You love being dominated and put in your place, don't you?" The super soldier snickered, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the erotic gasp that ripped it's way out of his wife when he finally allowed her the aid of a finger inside her wet ring of muscles. "I knew it, it's always naughty little brats like you who rile people up desperately just so someone can come along and beat some manners into their pathetic holes." His dirty talk was making her insides flutter, droplets of cold sweat decorating her temples as one ran down the side of her face.
The girl was too far gone to care or notice whe her husband moved her out of the way, momentarily letting go of her neck which made her collapse against his thighs, fucking herself on his fingers softly as her eyes fluttered shut. 
"Come here" grabbing a hold of her head by her hair again, the man guided it to his hard cock. "Look at what you do to me, sweets." Her confused and surprised face was inches from his thick and tall cock as James peered down at her. "Now you must be a good wife and take care of it."
"What-" 
"Tsk, aren't you the most precious and dumb little wife?" Y/n was starting to like how he crooned at her. "Needs her husband to teach her everything." Clicking his tongue, he added a second finger to her tight pussy. "Open up, baby. Let me see that pretty sucker" holding her cheeks between his hands hurriedly, the man pushed them open, causing a tiny O to form between her lips through which he pushed the tip of his cock inside but moving his hips. 
"Princess…" James called out warningly when she jumped up in response, trying to move away only to freeze at his tone, peeking up at him through her lashes with questioning eyes as he explored her oral cavity bit by bit till he was properly inside. "That's it, baby" the man praised, biting back a moan when she gagged in response to his tip tickling the back of her throat. "Fuck. This is perfect. You're such a fine set of wet little holes." 
Speeding up the movements of his fingers inside her pussy, he guided her face up and down his cock by his other hand, hips aiding the process as he tried not to but still made her gag and choke with each thrust. 
The car filled with sounds of slapping, choking, squelching, gagging, cursing and moaning as it ran smoothly on the highway roads, the driver using all his willpower to not look back or act bothered, ignoring the headache hurting his eyes. 
"Hnnnmmmm~" The Princess moaned against James' cock, hips bucking up as she finally climaxed, her shudders and grunts sending vibrations down the man's cock and adding to the heat that was settling in his own abdomen. 
He was close but it wasn't until Y/n unintentionally placed her hand on his ballsack to try and brace herself against the face fucking that had turned quite brutal that her husband collapsed, cursing loudly as he came down her throat, causing her to choke which made her nose ooze out some of his seed. 
"You better… fucking… swallow every drop." The man warned, his chest burning at how perfect she looked with mouth full of his cock, mascara smudging her face and nose decorated with his cum. Keeping his fingers buried in her cunt, James put her worked up face down against his lap, a hand gently placed behind her head to keep her in place with her mouth still stuffed full of him. 
"Keep it there and don't move" he panted, feeling her widened nostrils exhale out overwhelmed breaths as she had no choice but to cockwarm him with her mouth. "This will teach you your true place." Pressing a kiss to the exhausted girl's head, he whispered in her ear. "Between my legs with your cute sucker full of my cock."
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