#in case you were wondering which im sure you were not: | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sturnsbae · 15 days

Text

DIFFERENT - CHRIS STURNIOLO

summary: chris hasn’t been acting like his usual self and has been shutting everyone out, including his girlfriend.

warnings: cursing and the use of pet names so if you don’t like it then just read past them lol 😭

—

chris is usually hyperactive, overly energetic, and talkative. it’s practically what he’s known for, but lately he’s been quiet and less motivated to do nearly anything. he’s been shutting everyone out including you. this is odd behavior from him because you’re his prized possession. if your name gets brought up he’s the first to join into the conversation, always eager to boast on your behalf. you’re his girl.

you’ve been trying to ignore it, assuming that it’s just some weird mood he’s in due to the gloomy winter weather. but it’s been a constant thing for almost a week now, and it’s starting to strike you with concern.

you’re sat on his couch with both him and his brothers. everyone is silently glaring between their phone screens and the random movie playing on the tv. chris stands up which catches your attention as his arm falls off of your shoulder. “where are you going?” you ask softly.

“im gonna use the bathroom,” he says blatantly as he walks off into the small hallway next to matt’s room. you furrow your brows and turn your head to nick and matt, who are sat on the other end of the couch.

“has he seemed off lately to you guys?” you ask in a quiet tone. as you say this, nick looks at matt and they both turn their heads back to you, nodding in agreement.

“we’ve noticed it too, but we didn’t wanna say anything to you about it in case we were wrong,” matt says softly, making sure chris doesn’t hear him.

“should i ask him about it?” you ask.

“nah, knowing him he’s just gonna get pissy about it. but whenever we film videos with you he always tends to be happier, so maybe we should all make a video this week. are you free thursday?”

“yeah i should be!” you say as chris exits the bathroom, staring straight down at his phone screen. you sigh as he sits right back down on the couch still looking down at his phone, basically ignoring your presence.

“hey chris, i think i’m gonna head home okay?”

“oh alright, bye love you,” he says as he gives you a little halfassed smile and a very loose hug, all very abnormal behavior from him. usually he’d be bolting off of the couch and holding you in his arms begging you not to leave, or at least he’d be walking you to your car.

you walk out of the house alone, getting in your car with a sigh. you can’t help but wonder if you did something wrong. when you get home, you don’t even bother texting him that you got home safely. usually when you don’t text him that you got home safe, he spam texts you to make sure you’re okay. but this time he didn’t.

—

thursday rolls around, and you use your spare key to get into their house. chris turns around as he hears the door open, looking down the stairs to see what the noise is. when his eyes meet yours, a shocked expression appears on his face. “y/n?”

“hi baby! your brothers invited me to join your guys’ video!” you smile at him, and he just gives a small smile back.

“oh, i didn’t know,” he says monotonously. he waits for you at the top of the stairs, but doesn’t hug you when you reach him. he just half smiles and walks back to the kitchen. you furrow your brows and let out a sigh, but you put on a big smile for his brothers.

“hi guys! what are we filming?” you ask as you set your things down on the couch.

“we’re gonna be playing with kids toys that matt and i bought,” nick says, greeting you with a big hug as you enter the kitchen.

“oh my god that sounds so fun!” you say as you sit down next to chris at the island counter. you lean your head on chris’ shoulder as matt adjusts the camera, but he just keeps looking down at his phone. you sigh loudly, and that’s what eventually gets his attention. “you good?” he asks you.

“yep,” you say coldly. he nods and puts his phone down seeing as matt finally got the camera at a good angle. nick and matt come sit down next to you guys and start filming the introduction to the video.

—

you guys have been filming for about twenty minutes now, and chris has barely been acknowledging you. so you try and make a flirty joke to see if it sparks any reaction out of him. you guys are currently playing with a little robotic lamb that you need to take care of with things such as food, water, rubs, etc.

“aww chris, this is like if we had a baby!” you say jokingly as you feed the little toy lamb.

“ew! i don’t even want to think about that,” matt jokes. both you and nick burst out laughing, but chris just lets out a little chuckle.

“yeah, but i agree i don’t even wanna think about that,” chris says with a cold chuckle to try and smooth over his comment. but no matter the “joking” tone in his voice, it still felt like a stab in the heart. you and chris have always talked about a future together. due to his comment you give a fake eye roll to the camera, but deep down you mean it. at this point chris’ moody behavior is just pissing you off.

eventually the video comes to an end and you take your chance to talk to chris. nick and matt are cleaning everything up off of the counter, and you take chris by his hand and drag him into the living room. “chris, can we talk?” you ask.

“hm? yeah, sure. wanna go to my room?”

“yes please,” you say softly, trying to blink back tears. you’re worried because this conversation could have so many outcomes, and all of the bad possibilities are the ones overtaking your mind. you follow chris down the stairs to his room, and you shut the door behind him. he sits down on his bed and pats the spot next to him. you sit down but don’t make eye contact with him.

“chris… god i don’t even know how to start this,” you chuckle nervously. “are you okay? did i do something? is something going on? you’ve been shutting me out, and apparently you’ve been shutting your brothers out too.”

chris’ eyes turn to look at you, “what are you even talking about? i’m fine.”

you turn your head from the ground to face him,“are you sure chris? even nick and matt said you’ve been acting weird with them. if somethings wrong please just tell me. you know i love you and i’m always here for you.”

“well if you love me then why the fuck did you go to my brothers about this before me? i just told you i’m fine!” he says, raising his voice. you furrow your brows and stand up off the bed. you begin to pace the room as chris just looks down at the ground again.

him raising his voice at you over this pisses you off, so you raise your voice back. “what?! you’re fucking unbelievable chris! all i did was ask if you’re okay because i’m concerned about you, and you just give me attitude and raise your voice at me? what the fuck has gotten into you lately!”

he just scoffs and that does it for you. “chris i think we need to take a break. you aren’t communicating your feelings with me, and as soon as i ask if you’re okay you get mad at me for that? i’m sooo sorry for being fucking concerned about my boyfriend!” you yell back, tears now welling in your eyes. but chris doesn’t say anything, instead his eyes are glued to the floor and his elbows are resting on his thighs.

“you seriously have nothing to say?! you’re not even gonna act like you wanna fight for us?” you say as hot, salty tears stream down your cheeks.

“i mean you want a break and i respect you so…” chris mumbles but loud enough that you can understand him.

you just laugh at how unbelievable he’s being. “seriously chris, i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you lately but somethings changed. you’re different, and not in a good way,” you say as you wipe the tears on your cheeks and storm up the stairs.

nick and matt try their best to pretend they didn’t hear you guys arguing, but you know that they did. your eyes are bloodshot and your mascara is smudged, but they don’t pay any attention to it. nick wraps you in a hug and whispers, “i’m so sorry babe. we’re gonna sort this out, i’m not letting him give up on you guys this easily.”

you pull back from the hug and smile at nick, watching as matt comes over to pull you into a hug as well. “we’re not officially broken up, it’s just a break. but no matter what happens i still love you guys and i hope we can all be friends. i’ll see you guys,” you smile faintly.

“are you sure you’re good too drive?” matt asks, and you nod as you grab your things and head out. you manage to keep yourself composed on the drive home, but as soon as your key unlocks the door to your apartment the tears start flowing again. your chest feels so unbearably heavy and your breathing starts to quicken rapidly. you sit yourself down on the floor and rest your back against the door. your knees are against your chest, and you’re sure that the entire complex can hear your sobs. you’re just glad you live alone.

it’s now been hours since you left the sturniolos, and chris has just been laying in his bed staring at the ceiling. he hasn’t even changed out of the jeans and t shirt he was wearing, his mind is just consumed with you and the words you spat out at him.

—

it’s been nearly a week, and you and chris haven’t texted at all. the only form of contact you’ve had is liking each other’s instagram stories, nothing more than that.

you’ve left the house maybe a total of three times in the last week, and so has chris. he’s barely even been able to leave bed to film, but he knows that youtube is his life so he puts on a fake for the camera. as soon as the video ends, he goes straight back to his bedroom and locks himself in there for hours at a time. his brothers are overly concerned, but they know he needs his space so they don’t bug him about it.

he’s been miserable without you, and the fact that he knows it’s his fault makes it eat at him even more. he lost the love of his life because of his own cowardly mind, and it’s killing him. he’s typed out nearly a million texts, but he hasn’t sent any of them.

you decide that it’s been long enough with out chris, and you realize he isn’t gonna text you first, so you face your fears and text him.

you: hey, can we meet up? i feel like we need to talk about things

chris: yeah of course. meet at our spot in 30?

you: yeah that’s perfect

you and chris had found a hidden gem in griffith park about a year ago and you guys claimed it as “your spot.” you’ve never taken anyone there besides him, and neither has he. there’s even a little wooden fence at the spot with your guys’ initials engraved in a heart.

you throw on a sweatshirt and drive yourself to the park. to your surprise, chris is already there sitting and looking off into the city view. “hey,” you say softly as you sit on the grass next to him.

he immediately turns to look at you, and that’s when you see the dark circles under his eyes. you gasp and immediately reach out and touch his face. “chris oh my god, you look sick! have you slept at all?” you say with a sudden pit in your stomach.

“a little, yeah. not much but don’t worry, i’m fine. how have you been?” he asks, even his voice sounds sickly.

“i’ve been alright. i’ve missed you.”

“i’ve missed you so much more, y/n. i’m so sorry for how i acted,” he pleads.

“can i ask why? why did you shut me out?”

“it’s so stupid, y/n.”

“you know i could never think you’re stupid, especially when it comes to your feelings. your feelings are never stupid, chris. so tell me, please?”

“i started getting in my head about things. you’re so unbelievably sweet, and caring, and perfect. i don’t deserve you y/n, that’s why i shut you out. i felt like it was easier to just make you hate me then to actually tell you how i was feeling. i can only see myself with you, but i got so worried that you’d realize you’re too good for me, so i thought that maybe if you broke up with me now then i wouldn’t get as hurt later on. i get more and more attached to you every fucking day, y/n. so i was just in my head and felt like you’d one day realize you can do so much better than me, so i just wanted to get the pain over with,” chris says as he bites the insides of his cheeks.

“chris, oh my god? you think i’m too good for you? that’s the furthest thing from the truth! if anything, you’re too good for me! i’d never ever leave you chris, you don’t ever have to worry about that. i can only see myself with you, and i mean it,” you say as tears begin streaming down your cheeks.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i never meant any of it, and im sorry i didn’t fight for us. i wanted to, i really did, but i couldn’t. if you love someone you have to let them go, so that’s what i did. i watched you walk out of my room knowing it was my fault, and it killed me,” chris says softly as tears start falling from his eyes as well.

you pout and wipe his tears with your thumb. “come here baby,” you say pulling him into your chest and running your fingers though his hair. the brunette boy pushes his body against you as close as he can, and you just squeeze him tighter.

“i love you,” you say.

“i love you even more, you have no fucking idea,” he says as he pulls his body away from yours and wipes your tears.

“but really chris, have you slept at all? you look so ill,” you say with a concerned tone.

“not much, i got maybe 1 to 2 hours a night. you never left my mind once, the feeling was eating me alive. i couldn’t sleep knowing you were mad at me.”

“oh chris, let’s go home and take a nap. you deserve it, sweet boy.”

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you

435 notes · View notes

toorurs · 1 month

Text

LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR

synopsis: if you wouldn't know any better you'd think that chuuya nakahara doesn't take a liking to you - he loathes you. but what if one day you make a shocking discovery that it might be the opposite.

pairing: chuuya nakahara x gn!reader | wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: im at the first ep of s4, so if chuuya mischaracterized no need to wonder…, school au-ish kind of??, cursing (fuck), dazai teases chuuya for his crush, chuuyas kinda not rly good with his feelings and expressing himself, drinking (chuuya offering to go out and drink), dazai plays cupid/matchmaker

a/n: when i wrote this i didn't have 15 yo dazai or chuuya in mind (cause of the school au yk) just as them idk but interpret it however you like - high school or college wtv, im so obsessed with chuuya rn y'all don't even know, hope u guys enjoy this little thing i've whipped up in an hour

you're convinced that chuuya nakahara hates you.

that's one thing you're sure of. after all, he avoids you like the plague; however when the two of you do get in touch with one another, he starts cursing you out, calling you names such as “dumbass" and abruptly leaves.

yeah, you're pretty sure that that guy dislikes - if not despises you. although until now you've hadn’t had the slightest idea why. well, that was the case up until now.

some days have passed since you started noticing it. every time you hung out with dazai and started laughing a bit too loudly at his jokes or lightly slapped his shoulder, chuuya gave you a death stare - if you wouldnt know any better he looked like he’d grab your throat any minute to shut you up.

admittedly (and also embarrassedly) you never really noticed it until dazai has pointed it out. which, on one hand, explains the weird feeling you’ve recently gotten - it felt like someone was shooting daggers at the back of your head, luckily for you, that’s solved now.

but on the other hand, you still demand an explanation why chuuya would do that. is it simply because of his (one-sided) hatred towards you, that can’t be the case right? or did he have a huge crush on dazai, that’s the most realistic explanation that you can think of.

once school ended and the bell had just rung to release everyone from their classes and go back home. you’d usually scurry home right away, because there was no point in staying longer, after all who’d want to endure this hell house also known as school more than necessary, it's no use right?

well jokes on you, staying over time was definitely worth it. kunikida assigned you the task (forced) to carry a huge stack of boxes full of documents and paper to your homeroom teacher's room, because it was the “right” thing to do - well at least according to his ideals.

“but what about dazai? that idiot just ran off and is probably slacking off right now!” you protested, because it's not fair when everyone has a task to complete and someone else just gets to relax, right?

at your complaint the blond could only scoff “i’ll scold him later, but for now let's just concentrate on the task in front of us, time is running out.”

that’s how you ended up here, back pressed against the heavy classroom door that separated you and the two guys that were inside the room as you tried to listen in into their conversation.

initially your plan was to find dazai, drag him by the collar of his white button up and beat his ass for skipping and leaving you alone with a ton of boxes that not only cost you ten minutes to carry around or so.

because neither kunikida or anyone else didn’t bother to tell you that there were three, fucking three, of those staples of boxes that were filled with countless papers.

however, it came to a change of plans upon hearing chuuyas’ voice. usually, any sound that was made inside of the classrooms was drowned out and barely audible to hear outside the room.

this time, that didn’t seem to be the case though. chuuyas’ screaming and dazais' hysterical laughter were faint but loud enough to hear from outside the room.

“come on chuuya, there's no need denying it, you have a massive crush on them.” dazais’ voice was laced with amusement as he started laughing out loud which seemed to piss the redhead off.

you were able to hear a small huff that escaped dazais mouth. “chuuya, there’s really no need to start getting all violent, just admit that you’re absolutely whipped for them!” the brunette chuckled. “so stop kicking me in the balls!” that probably earned him another kick as you could hear dazai letting out a small “ouch.”

“shut up, shitty dazai.” the guy in question only snickered at that. “yeah, yeah. everyone’s able to tell that you’re madly in love with them. every time you’re around them you start to get beet red, the color even exceeds the one of your hair! a hilarious sight to look at, really.”

you didn’t hear a response from chuuya and apparently neither did dazai so he just continued his rant. “also, let me tell you one thing, you’re not making it any better by cussing them out or intently staring at them, that’s just scary, man!” dazai closes his eyes and starts shaking his head before tutting in disappointment.

“oh chuuya. the brunette sighs, eyes still closed. “letting a beauty like them slip away this easily by not showing any proper interest. you’re to be pitied, really.” the male moves away from his previous position and bolts over to the door, crossing his arms as his back leans against the door.

an exasperated sigh leaves chuuyas mouth. “what do you expect me to do then? they probably have a horrible impression of me already. if i pull up with a bouquet of roses and some cliché pick up lines, they’d probably stare at me in horror, wondering if i got possessed or something.” he sneers at dazai.

just who in the world are they talking about?

dazai pretends to think for a moment before snapping his fingers. “well for starters, how about greeting them, doesn’t even have to be verbal, just some waving or nodding. then start hanging out with them!”

“idiot! how's that supposed to work from just greeting each other!” the ginger scowls at dazai.

“hold your horses.” the brunette whistles. “i didn't say to rendez-vous and have a candle-light dinner. how about accepting those group invites first that you keep declining. then you’d have the chance to meet up with them more often and get to know them.”

dazai continues to advise chuuya by giving him tips and recommendations “try bonding over stuff with each other, like favorite shows or food. and if you’re not incapable of doing so, how about complimenting them. wouldn't hurt you know?” dazai shrugs in simplicity.

chuuyas still skeptical “assumingly that was the case. the two of us attending the same party, they’re alone and i finally get the chance to approach them, what the fuck am i supposed to say?” dazai only smiles at chuuya, a look that says “that’s up to you.”

“why not use me as your lab rat!” dazai suggests optimistically.

“no way in hell!” chuuya shoots back pessimistically.

after pondering and musing for a while, chuuya comes up with a curt sentence. “i find you really good looking and cool.” the redhead stops and both you and dazai await his continuation in anticipation. “wanna go out and grab drinks sometimes?” chuuya doesn’t look up from the floor which he’s been staring at for the past minute. the tips of his ears tinted in a vermillion red.

“well, that wasn't so hard was it?” dazai asks cheerily, clapping his hands together. “if you still have doubts, how about you try it on the real thing now?” and before you can realize what's going on dazai swiftly steps away from the door before grabbing the door handle and opens the door, revealing your figure to the two guys.

you’re not sure who's more taken aback, you or chuuya.

e/n: as y’all can tell the title is inspired by frozen's love is an open door cause y’know dazai opens the door for chuuya to confess his feelings. does this make sense lol??

#𝓣𝓞𝓞𝓡𝓤𝓡𝓢: works ✯#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya nakahara fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya fluff #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x gn reader #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya bsd #bsd chuuya

436 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 9 months

Text

haunted | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)

Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he? word count: 7.6k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol

“Do you know?”

“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat.

Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was.

He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.

“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”

You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it.

It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important.

Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.

Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries

Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.

Daniel was coming back.

But did he ever really leave in the first place?

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you.

You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen.

Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.

Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case.

If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him.

Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame.

It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault.

Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk.

Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat.

They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along.

It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.

You never wanted to leave him without a seat.

But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about.

Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it.

You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault.

Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you.

It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel.

They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about.

“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet.

You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced.

“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”

“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw.

“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?”

There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren.

“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort.

You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race.

You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo.

“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking.

You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell.

“And Daniel’s departure-

Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”

Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1.

Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series.

He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors.

You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers.

Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.

“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing.

Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side.

You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening.

First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly.

Too bad the comments were anything but.

Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them

No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too.

Your break up.

And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down.

It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.

And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco.

You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him.

As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you.

The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks.

Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you.

The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport.

You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it.

So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam.

“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”

You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries.

Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later.

“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.

“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?”

“You look awful.”

“I feel awful.”

Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport.

Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so.

He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.

“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it.

Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around.

You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it.

Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception.

So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?

Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know.

“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.

“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”

“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver.

It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”

You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”

Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out.

You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.

It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.

“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”

“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”

And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.

He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.

Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.

It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.

You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.

It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.

All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.

All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this.

You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.

He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.

Daniel was done.

You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team.

But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.

It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure.

“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.

“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”

Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”

“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-

“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”

“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”

Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”

“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-

“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren.

And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could.

“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”

“And your relationship-

“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.”

That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get.

And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years.

You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there.

But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season.

You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2.

You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry.

And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months.

He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different.

If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you.

He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat.

So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you.

He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand.

Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it.

Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth.

You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside.

You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.

It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now.

He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel.

“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.

He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would.

"Daniel-"

You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while.

You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps.

And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced.

He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either.

He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver.

The same excitement couldn’t be said for you.

Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers.

You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?

But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s.

However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together.

Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him.

And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile?

These rumours were truly getting annoying.

Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past.

You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends.

It was a constant reminder of what could have been.

What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to?

What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?

Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?

Or was that just a far fetched dream?

Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead?

If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in?

Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.

You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done.

Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.

You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.

You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now.

The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren.

Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.

Monaco was better, sort of.

You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt.

But Daniel was everywhere.

He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.

You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.

But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.

Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run.

You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.

Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.

Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.

“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”

That was all he said on the topic.

And he was right.

You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.

Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.

You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat.

You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore.

And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed.

You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you.

“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”

You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it.

You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.

And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone.

Which meant he knew your password.

So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;

P3, nice job

But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.

There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.

Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day.

Maybe that was for the best, no one knew.

All you knew was you were starting third today.

All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions.

Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?

You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him.

“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”

Lando was in your corner. You were in his.

Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close.

“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did.

You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it.

You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes.

And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end.

You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?

But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.

Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series.

You were on the same playing field now.

He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true.

But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in.

“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction.

Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.

He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.

And now you didn’t need to look anymore.

part 3 gone

----

taglist: @yunnie-f1 @torossosebs @whatthefuckerr @jspitwall @oconso @tsarinablogs @landowecanbewc @somanyfandomsbruh @christianpulisic10 @storminacloud @sunnytkm23 @formula1mount @azxulaa @icarus-nex @spideyspeaches if i forgot someone im so sorry

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

1K notes · View notes

after-witch · 9 months

Text

With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: With Your Heartbeat Next to Mine [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You were lying to yourself if you claimed to think Mahito would be satisfied with kisses and late-night snuggles on the couch.

Word count: 1220ish

Notes: yandere, possessiveness, implied dubcon, talks of virginity, self-blame for unwanted advances, Mahito in general

Mahito steps forward, and you’re trapped between the unusual coolness of his body and your bedroom wall. One of your posters--some sun-faded thing leftover from your school years--crinkles against your back. You hope it doesn’t rip, and then you’re back to worrying about more important things.

Like the fact that Mahito wants you to have sex. Tonight. Today. Right now.

“It’s just--I’m not ready,” you say, lips dry, stammering stupidly. “I’m a--I mean, I’ve never… I haven’t…”

Mahito quirks his head, and then grins, all teeth and salaciousness. “Oh-hh. You’re a virgin, then?” When you don’t answer, he pokes the end of your nose with a finger. “I read about it. It doesn’t matter to me. Humans attach importance to silly things, don’t they?”

Something like humiliation and hurt puffs up in you. He doesn’t take anything seriously, at least not when it comes to you. It’s never bothered you too much. It was part of the charm, the game, of being with someone like him.

But this is… different. Isn’t it? And it bothers you, deep down, even though you really forfeited all rights to any sort of normal relationship expectations the moment you willingly kissed a literal curse.

“It’s not silly.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you think back to fumbled romances from before Mahito. Awkward make-out sessions on the couch that always ended in you telling your dates that you weren’t ready to go that far, and they either smoothly accepted it and got their time’s worth with sloppy kisses and gropes or got the hell out of dodge, and you’re not sure which was more hurtful in the end.

And then came Mahito. And he was different. And a curse. And you were in something-like-a-relationship with him, but you didn’t know what to call it when the person you were seeing couldn’t be seen by anyone around you and he tortured people (to death, or not, and you definitely knew which one was worse in that case) for fun and “science” and you, sick and selfish thing, still loved the way he pressed kisses up your neck to feel your heartbeat or yanked your bottoms down to taste what was underneath or simply held you all night while you watched movies.

And now he wants to push you down onto your bed and fuck you, and you don’t know what to do or say. You don’t want it, but you knew it was coming, like it always does in any relationship. Was it any wonder that it came, too, in this one?

Mahito puffs air in your face and you flinch, startled out of your thoughts.

“Where’d you go, hmm?” You feel his fingers on your chin and you know what’s coming when one of them slides along your lips. One of Mahito’s fingers hooks onto the side of your mouth, and if you weren’t used to him playing around with your body like it was a lump of clay, it would have bothered you. Instead you wonder when he last washed his hands, even as he stretches your lip upward, a mockery of a half-smile.

“Humans are silly. You’re silly,” he says, all matter-of-fact. Then he sighs, put-off or tired or just pretending to be in order to make himself more palatable, more humanesque, to you. You can never tell with him, and that’s part of the thrill. “Is it because you…”

He releases your lips and taps his chin, putting on a show as he thinks for a moment, digging out information from whatever well of knowledge he stores things in. He normally pulls out trivia about humanity that would be better suited to some sort of criminology class. But today it’s something far less morbid, though hardly any less anxiety-inducing.

“Are you saving yourself for marriage? Is that why you don’t want to have sex?”

Your cheeks feel impossibly hot.

You shake your head, looking down, unable to look at him. He never has a problem staring at you for what always feels like a terribly long time. Sometimes he does it so you’ll give him the answer he wants. Other times, it’s to study you--or that’s what you think, anyway.

Mahito pouts. “Oh. Darn. I was thinking we might have a wedding, if that was the case. I’ve always admired those pretty dresses in the windows.” He sighs again. “Probably couldn’t invite him, though, anyway. He wouldn’t approve.” He smiles again, bright and peppy, all imitations of tiredness tossed aside like an old coat. “Did you know he wanted me to kill you the first time I brought you up?”

You nod, because Mahito has had no problem telling you that his companions think he should have killed you a long time ago, and sometimes he thinks about it. But then he remembers how much fun you have together, so he puts it off for another day.

And the thought hits you like lead: If you won’t have sex with him, will he kill you? Will refusing make you too annoying or boring to put up with? Or is it better to say no and keep up the chase, make him fight for you? It was almost dizzying, the way relationship games became serious with Mahito around. A regular guy might just break up with you. Mahito might just break your neck.

“Then… oh!” His expression brightens and he looks so sweet like this that you can almost forget what he is and what you’re doing with him. Almost. “You’re worried about the pain.” He nods, a mockery of sage wisdom. “I’ve read about that, too. He tilts his head back a little. “In novels. It’s cute…”

“You’re cute,” he says, and that’s a good sign--right?--because it means he still wants you. And you’re at least another step farther from being turned into some awful experiment in a sewer.

His lips press against your ear, and his voice is too close and he’s too close, but you signed up for this when you let him in your life, didn’t you? You let him hold you and kiss you and if you didn’t think he’d eventually want more, you were lying to yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, and it does nothing but make you worry more. “I’ll be gentle.”

The most awful thing of all is that you can't tell if he's being genuine or not.

He grins, a sticky smile that oozes an awful dark pressure that makes your stomach clench. It would be better, you think, to do what he wants. Since he seems to want it so much. And… you should be flattered, if anything. Right? Be flattered. Be grateful. Appreciate that some all-powerful curse wants to press you into a mattress and have sex with your body and pull out your mewls and moans like he’s done before, albeit in a far less intimidating fashion.

Mahito presses a chaste kiss to the end of your nose, then pulls back to examine your expression.

“That’s what I’m supposed to say, isn’t it?” His fingers card through your hair up your scalp, scratching just a little too hard to feel nice. “So you don’t fight as much?”

You swallow, and your throat is so tight that your spit might as well be needles.

Mahito, not wanting for an answer, presses his hands against your shoulder and pushes you harder against the wall as he moves in for a hungry kiss. Behind you, the poster rips.

#mahito x reader #yandere mahito #yandere jujutsu kaisen #afterwitch writes #this is what I mean when I say i have no idea what's coming when lol #wrote this tonight since I can't get that dialogue outta my head

1K notes · View notes

melobin · 6 months

Text

behind the mask ✧ anton lee

cw. mask kink, dom!anton x sub reader. no pronouns used but reader is female bodied, rough sex, hair pulling, recording, strength kink, manhandling, porn without plot. minors dni

wc. 2.5k

summary. in which the ghostface mask your boyfriend brought for an easy halloween costume becomes an accessory he wears to bed because he just feels so different in it.

an. thank you so much for 500 followers, i appreciate you all and i’m so glad you like my work🫶🏻

inspired by this tiktok

anton was shy, so sweet and so doting on you, always making sure you were okay and you had everything you needed for your day, but he was shy. no matter the situation he was in, he always found himself having the quietest voice in the room, always felt as if other people had more control over him because of how quiet and relaxed nature. whilst that may have not been the case for everyone, it was for you. you were the only person anton enjoyed giving that control to. he trusted you, enjoyed when you took care of him, in every sense. truthfully, he hadn’t had much experience taking control of you in a sexual manor, he tried but dominance didn’t seem to run in his veins. or so he thought.

with the situation anton found himself in, he was sure he had some form of imposter syndrome. had he really convinced himself that he couldn’t dominate you because he lacked experience with it? was he really doing it just because he was hiding behind a mask? well, it’s not as if you didn’t know it was him; in fact, you had encouraged the boy to wear the mask. so why did he feel so different? anton reminisced on the events of the night in hand as he looked down at your trembling body, he could get used to the sight of you laying on your stomach, hair a mess with his cum dripping out of you. yet, he wondered what flipped in him that caused him to treat you the way he did.

“anton?” you called out from your bedroom after hearing your front door, you knew it was him who had entered. he hummed as he walked into your room, a white plastic bag swayed in his hand. “did you have fun?” he nodded and sat on the edge of your bed, removing the jacket he had on. you shifted to kneel behind him, arms wrapping around him as your head rested on his shoulder.

“of course” he placed the bag down on the bed next to him and leaned back a little into your arms, fingers opening the bag and removing the contents. a mask? more specifically, a ghostface mask.

“what kind of cliche are you planning on dressing up as for halloween?” he laughed at your comment, releasing the mask from his hand once you reached down to take it.

“it was the best i could given the places we had go to, i’d take dressing up as a serial killer over some smurf costume that sohee hyung found” dispute his subtle diss toward his friend, his voice was still as sweet as ever. it had always been music to your ears, never once had you wished for him to change it.

“hmmm i don’t know, i think you’d fit right into the village as papa smurf” he rolled his eyes and smiled, fingers moving to trace patterns over the skin of your arm. “i think it’s hot though” his eyebrow perked up at your words.

“hot?”

“mhm, always see those girls on tiktok fawning over the idea of their boyfriends fucking them whilst wearing the ghostface mask” he gulped at your words, noticing the way your fingers curled a little over the mask.

“do you think about that?”

“i mean, i didn’t until you came home with one in your bag” anton paused momentarily, unsure of how to go about the thoughts that were brewing in his head.

“want to try?” the boy himself didn’t know what confidence had come over him, he had never gone into an intimate moment with you were he had planned to take control before hand. he heard your breathing grow a little heavier at his question, he turned his head to look at you, your eyes glazed over as you looked at him.

“do you?” he gulped, unable to stop his eyes from falling to your lips.

“i mean, im not opposed to trying everything once” you giggled at his response, free hand going to his hair to pull his head back a little before leaning down to kiss him. the kiss was messier than usual, your tongue entering his mouth immediately. it wasn’t something anton was used to going straight into, the tongues, the spit, the bitting on his lip. he could already feel how hard he was getting, but he knew he had to turn the situation around to favour him.

you moved around, climbing on to his lap so you could straddle him, mask in the hand that was hanging over his shoulder. the kiss didn’t break, not for at least another 30 seconds. the boy found himself easing more into it, fingers inching down and digging into the skin of your ass as the kiss deepened. he felt a hand sneak under his shirt, his following so he could rid himself of it. once the kiss broke, the two of you didn’t reconnect.

you looked at him, eyes wide, lips swollen. there was a glimmer of playfulness in your eyes, he could tell you were enjoying yourself with this.

“are you ready?” you giggled as you lifted the mask above his head, he couldn’t help but smile at you. it was cute, he hoped and prayed that he could fulfil the fantasy you were dreaming of.

“mhm” he hummed, still in a slight daze from the kiss you two had shared. you smiled slightly, bringing the mask down to pull it over his head. you moved to lay on the bed, anton stood up.

the sight in front of you left you weak as he stood tall, eyes travelling from the mask down to his toned body and then to the bulge in his jeans. your mouth watered, you could feel the slick dripping from your core as you eyed him. he was delicious.

anton could sense the change in your demeanour, the aura you were radiating changed into something weaker. you seemed quiet, withdrawn. submissive. it ignited something inside of him, an unfamiliar feeling. you just looked so sweet and helpless watching him, he felt powerful. he believed it was time to play into the character you wanted.

“you okay, love?” his soft voice sent shivers down your spine as he moved closer to you, fingers trailing over the bare skin of your legs, you thanked yourself for only being in his shirts and a pair of thin panties. “you seem a little frazzled” he sat on the edge of the bed and brought his hand higher, fingers resting on the skin of your thigh beneath your panties. you were frazzled, sure you’d seen the mask things before on twitter and such but having it in front of you, having your own boyfriend in front of you with one on made you dizzy.

his fingers skipped over your cunt, moving to push the skirt you were wearing up and removing it from your body. dropping it to the floor before standing back up to remove his jeans. he didn’t say much, his silence left you feeling nervous, no part of you could guess what was going on inside his pretty head at that moment.

the answer was nothing. nothing was going through his head, it was blank. he had nothing in his brain, you looked so pretty already braless and in just your panties for him. he took note of them, pretty, thin, red. his favourite colour on you, sure you had no idea he was going to come in with the mask and that you’d end up in this position but he couldn’t help but think you wanted him anyway tonight. it made his cock throb in the cool air of the room.

as he climbed between your legs, he sat back on his knees. his gaze focused on your panties and the way they seems to stick to your slick cunt. he brought two fingers forward and pressed against it, breathing hitching when he felt just how soaked you were through them. you were really into this, so aroused, so ready to take him. it inspired him more to play into what you wanted.

his hands grabbed at your lower legs, pulling you down the bed slightly before flipping you onto your stomach, you couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from you as his sudden action. you knew he had strength, you could visibly see it on him everytime he moved his arm in a certain way. it was something that always left you foaming at the mouth, only having dreamed of being on the receiving end of it before now. you felt as if you were gushing wetness at this point, that feeling was confirmed when you felt anton grab your hips to pull them up before hooking a finger over the band of your panties that covered your slit, pulling it out then letting it go so it hit you. you shivered.

he didn’t say much, in fact he didn’t say anything and that just built up your anticipation more. something about the silence aroused you, how he grabbed at your hips and pressed the front of your body against the mattress, all of it left your mind dizzy.

anton opted against removing your panties, thinking the red lace looked perfect against your ass. instead he slid them aside, bringing the fingers of his other hand up to run through your slit. soaked was an understatement. you were drenched, anton swore he had never felt you so wet before, never seen you so compliant to let him do whatever he wanted. he believed it was something he could get used to, he just had to find the confidence within himself to get into this position again.

you whimpered at his actions, “please, just need you” your words seemed slurred “need you to fuck me” never in his life had anton felt how he did in that moment, if it wasn’t for the hour long edging sessions you had put him through in the past he definitely would came, instantly. you sounded so broken without him even doing anything, so needy for his cock. if he wasn’t buried inside of you in the next 5 seconds he felt as if he would’ve gone insane.

so he done just that, wrapping his hand around his cock as his other hand still had your panties pushed aside. guiding himself into you felt like a treacherous act, the initial push of his tip inside of you had you gripping the bed sheets beneath you, eyes squeezing shut as his thick cock invaded your walls.

“anton..” your voice trailed off, it was all he took to push the rest of his cock inside of you. the stretch made you feel weak, legs already skating from the intensity of his thrust. he leaned forward and wrapped an arm around your waist, testing the waters by thrusting into you again, you whined at the feeling and it spurred him on to continue.

everything felt surreal to anton, from the way your panties dragged along his cock with each thrust, how you were squeezing his cock so tightly to the way you cried into the bedsheets when his cock hit a particular spot. neither of you had ever experienced something so intense together, sex had never seemed to feel this good before now. maybe this was how it was meant to be, you played face down ass up for your sweet, loving, strong boyfriend who fucked you from behind.

his cock reached depths you were sure he never had before, when he moved to kneel up he pressed his hand on your back, pressing down causing you to arch it a little more before he thrusted into you again. thrusts now harder that before. you couldn’t control yourself, you were a wreck. tears falling from your eyes, his name the only thing you could seem to remember. anton anton anton. it was your anton behind the mask who was fucking you into oblivion.

nothing could’ve made the intimacy hotter, nothing could’ve made the pit in your stomach grow more. or so you thought. that was until you felt his hand grab at your hair, he yanked you up, you gasped at the feeling, eyes going wide at the sudden light that appeared in front of you. he was recording you, the selfie camera showed the scene to your eyes, you almost broke down at the sight. you were a mess, eyes red, mascara under your eyes from the slight makeup you’d worn earlier in the day, anton on the other hand had you clenching around his cock. the mask moved a little either each thrust, his body damp from the sweat that was falling down him. everything about the sight of the two of you turned you on even more. you weren’t sure what to was about anton being mute through all of this, but it made it hotter.

he dropped his phone, still recording, once he felt your shaking more. he let go of your hair, your body falling into the mattress as his hand moved under your body to your clit. in the past you’d given him direct lessons to where the clit was and how to find it and it seemed they had paid one as his fingers attached themselves to it instantly and he began rubbing it in circles. you needed to cum. anton needed you to cum. there was no way he was going to do all of this only to cum before you, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

his attack on your clit done justice as you felt yourself begin to fall apart, you wanted to tell him you were cumming, wanted him to know that he had fucked you right into an orgasm but you physically couldn’t speak. everytime your mouth open a moan fell out, words getting caught in your throat, stuck there as he fucked you.

it hit you, hard. your legs shook under his grip, you bit down on the pillow under, your orgasm triggered his. he had been holding off for a while, the moment he felt you release after him he let it go. fucking you through it, long spurts of his cum shooting deep into you. any other day he would’ve panicked cumming inside of you but today he decided he wanted to, no, he needed to see his cum dripping out of you once he pulled out.

when he did pull his cock out he heard you whine, his eyes falling to where his cum began leaking down your leg. he almost grew hard again, but then he looked at you laying there, limp, eyes closed, hair a mess. he had to lay with you. h picked up his phone and stopped recording, throwing inside before laying with you, arms wrapping around you. your own hands lifted up to remove the mask from him. his face was flushed, eyes wide as he looked down at you, lips swollen and a little bloody, you realised he’d been biting them the whole time. not much was said, you placed your hand under his chin to beckon him down to kiss you and he did. it was soft, sweet, nothing like the boy who’d just fucked you. when the kiss brine you looked at him and laughed.

“we’re keeping the mask”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

tag list. @starrypen @austirecs @antinitonny @wonbons @nctxtrash @iridescentboba @annton-s @moons4yu @kpoprhia

#riize smut #anton smut #✧ hard hours ✧#✧ melody posts

851 notes · View notes

qlossytbh · 22 days

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 You and Spencer seem to have a lot more in common than you let yourself on to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 trauma dumping between reader and Spencer, the two of them have fucked up childhoods, sexual tension (?), mentions of schizophrenia, mentions of depression and attempted suicide, reader has a fucked up dark humor

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this was honestly just an idea that came to me while watching season one finale, he’s just so *chefs kiss* and I wanna give him a hug. BY THE WAY IM ONLY ON SEASON TWO SO DONT SPOIL and i’m still trying to develop the characters in my head. also i feel like it’d be super funny for season 1/2 Spencer to be with someone with a super sarcastic and twisted humor

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was an uncomfortable silence and you acknowledged how the events of that day personally affected Spencer. It was like the air was thick and both of you wanted to speak but didn't think of doing so. You glanced over at Reid from your spot next to one of the file drawers, wondering how he was holding up. You saw him shifting in his chair as his eyes scanned through a few of his own files that sat comfortably in his lap.

It had never even occurred to you that Spencer's mother had been schizophrenic, much less that she had been put into the Bennington sanitarium. Earlier, while she was helping out with the case, things seemed normal. Sure, she was a little reserved and seemed constantly on edge, but you thought that was just another one of her odd traits. But when you and Morgan were covering for Reid as he practically jumped head first into a room with a bombed UnSub that was keeping Rebecca Bryant hostage, he briefly started mentioning all these connection with his mother and then stated very explicitly that she was borderline schizophrenic. You looked at Morgan in shock and nearly dropped your gun in shock.

Spencer was one of those people who had always been a closed book with himself, because god knows he loves to talk about other things, but those things never associated with himself. It was like a distraction he put up for people to latch onto so he avoided people asking about him. Since you and Spencer had become friends he'd never really talked much about himself and his personal life. He always preferred hearing you ramble about some random personal drama you were dealing with. He even found it endearing how you'd arrive at work and immediately started venting rapidly and furiously about something as stupid as how you hated slow drivers or how people were waking slow on the sidewalk.

Thats probably why everyone always pried and teased when it came to your dynamic. The two of you complimented eachother perfectly, at least that's what everyone would always tell you.

Spencer could be a little more uptight and calculated, struggling to let loose while you however, usually took most things with humor. Sometimes your humor could even be a little dark and twisted. You joked around— sarcasm being your main powerhouse of humor, which unsurprisingly was very hard for Spencer to catch onto. You usually found yourself regularly explaining to Spencer that you were only joking, it happened regularly. You only found it endearing though and somewhat entertaining.

But that's exactly why you and Spencer worked so well. Spencer's grounded way of thinking helped you see things in a different light and he brought the best out of your critical thinking. He worked as a real life anchor and you helped Spencer get out of his overthinking, grounding him and helping him see things with a little more light. What you lacked he recompensted, and what he lacked you recompensated. The two of you filled the gaps the other was missing. A real power dynamic as Morgan would frequently quote.

But in situations like now, you truly wondered how much he could be potentially hiding about himself. You felt like you knew him so well but simultaneously not at all. That's what drawed you in so badly. Spencer had so much in his head and all you wanted to do was insert yourself into it and dissect every and any thought possible. You truly wanted to understand his way of thinking.

You shifted on your heels, sneaking glances at him trying to figure out how you could potentially check if he was okay. Because by the way his knee bounced nervously and the familiar furrow in his brow, you knew his head was racing uncontrollably. You let out a heavy sigh and he turned to you which only caused you to nervously look away and back down at the file in your hands. Suddenly you were the one bouncing your leg nervously.

There was this awkward wall between the two of you that you needed to break through, so without another thought, you set the file down and made your way to the couch he was sitting on. He sat on the left side, allowing his elbow to rest on the arm rest while he scanned his eyes through the papers that sat in his lap.

Without a single word, you sat on the farther right side and faced him. Your eyes bored into the side of his face and after a few seconds, he became nervous with the realization that your piercing gaze was on him. You leaned back, and kicked his foot gently in an attempt to grab his attention. He turned to you, humming silently but still clueless to your intentions.

You narrowed your eyes as him "What's going on in that pretty big brain of yours?"

He fumbled slightly with the papers in his lap as he opened his mouth to answer bu then clamped it shut. "Uh, I'm reading through the various files about the case and how we—" He started, gesturing to the papers

You were quick to cut him off. "No— I mean, how are you?"

He looked at you severely confused, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm....good?"

"Good..!" You continued, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow hot. Well this was severely embarrassing "Great, yeah that's— uhm, great."

There was a silence, again. You looked down at your hands and nervously played with the rings that sat comfortably on your fingers. It dawned over you that this was harder than you thought it was going to be. You didn't know how to approach a delicate topic with him, all you knew what to do was to joke around, so this was becoming harder for you than you had anticipated. When you looked up at him, he was looking down at you and your blazing hot cheeks.

"You're blushing," He stated bluntly, scanning your face. Your eyes suddenly blew wide and you felt yourself choke on air. "Which either means you're feeling embarrassed, or nervous, or—"

"What? No!—" You groaned and pointed a finger at him. "Don't go all profiler on me. I'm the one who asked you how you were doing!"

"But didn't I specify that I was doing good...?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused. You deadpanned at your best friend and he suddenly grew small under your gaze. You dragged a hand across your face with a groan.

"Spence, I'm not talking about that.." You looked him in the eye and took a breath. "Are you ok?"

Spencer definitely took his time answering. You sat there, looking somewhat stupid waiting for his answer as all he did was scan your eyes, looking for— something..? Spencer was confused and he wanted to get to where you were going with this conversation but he genuinely had no clue as to what you were trying to get at. Realizing he wasn't catching on, you continued.

"You know for someone as smart as you, you sure are slow," You shoved his foot once again with your own and smiled at him. "I didn't know about your mother."

"Oh.." He then slumped with realization as a weak smile reached his face. He looked down at his files and fumbled with the corner of one of them, folding and unfolding it gently.

"Yeah, 'oh'," You teased. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer trusted you more than life itself, he knew he could tell you but right now he felt this piercing anxiety. Vocally admitting something that he may have some underlying issues with, letting you know that, terrified him. This was hard for you as well. You cared about him and you didn't know if he was or wasn't comfortable sharing this with you. But guessing on his usual demeanor, you'd take a wild guess that opening up isn't his favorite thing to do. You couldn't blame him though, you had the same problem. He looked up at you and just seeing you there waiting for him patiently to tell you anything was enough to make him crack.

"Schizophrenia is a life long illness," He said. "Her meds keep her stable but she still has bad days at the sanitarium."

You nodded your head softly as all your attention was suddenly directed to him and only him. "I don't remember much about when she was first admitted but I do remember that she used to always read me these poems."

You smiled to yourself, and he followed suit. When his gaze fell from you to the wall in front of him, you opened your mouth to speak. "How come we never realized you ever leaving to go see her or visit her?"

"Because I didn't," He admits. His brows furrowed faintly. You sat in silence, pushing for him to continue speaking. "I don't."

"How come?" You asked, lookin down and picking at your nails. He shook his head and pulled his lips into a straight line. He didn't really have an answer to what you had just asked. His shoulders shrugged slightly as he seemed at a loss of words.

"I think it's because in some weird, meticulous, twisted way I see myself when I see her." He stated "I see myself ending up just like her."

"I write her letters everyday, just so I don't feel— you know, guilty, but knowing that schizophrenia is genetically passed on—" He shook his head. Your brows furrowed in anguish as you looked back up at Spencer. He never told you.

"Spence," You said, shaking your head. "I didn't know."

He looked at you and got nervous with the way you were looking at him so he brushed it off almost immediately. "Y-You had no way of doing so,"

"I mean yeah, I guess.." You sighed, brows furrowed. A silence then dwelled upon you and you found your head racing at a thousand miles per hour. Spencer looked over at you after a few minutes and saw your gaze glued onto the ground. Because when he noticed how the corner of your lips were tensely tugged to the side and the soft crinkle in your brows, he knew your head was racing uncontrollably.

"What's going on in that pretty brain of yours?" He said pursing his lips as he hugged his arms and nudged your foot and causing you to snap out of your trance. You suddenly felt yourself grow nervous which is something you rarely did and much less with Spencer, but his borderline flirtatious tone and the way he had quoted your previous words, caught you off guard. Your favorite thing was when Spencer teased because it was so out of character of him and it rarely happened.

Not entirely ready to talk about what had awoken in your head, you decided to joke around. "Oh okay, now I get it. You can have a pretty big brain but only I can have a pretty one?"

You could physically see how he rescanned and revisited your conversation and started growing nervous at the possibility that he had offended you in any way. "You calling me stupid, Dr. Reid?"

"What? No! I meant—" He shook his hands franticly, turning his body to face you, face growing red. "That you can uhm, also have—"

You let out a soft laugh and he stopped immediately. "Your joking, of course.."

He felt that his collar was suddenly growing tight. The way you were speaking to him was enough to cause him to melt into putty at your feet and when your laughter filled the room he could feel everything stop. His cheeks grew hot and were practically burning to the touch.

You leaned forward and pulled at the end his tie. "Now look who's blushing."

You let him go with a laugh, and fell back shaking your head as Spencer's breaths grew even shallower and he became even more nervous. You grossed your arms over your chest and looked at the floor.

"You're not alone you know," Your words had caught Spencer off guard as he tried to recompose himself. He looked over at you but your gaze remained on the floor.

"What—" He tried saying but when his voice came out all shaky, he quickly cleared it out as embarrassment seeped in. "What do you mean?"

"You're not alone with all the— fucked up family melodrama crap," You shrugged and spared him a slight glance. "I get it."

Spencer watched you closely and realized, due to your body language, the way your face was all scrunched up and basically just knowing you, that something was up and you were hiding something. He waited intently, expecting you to go on further. You brought one of your knees to your chest while the other hung off the couch. "I remember when my sister was admitted to a psych ward, I had this huge inner turmoil, kind of similar to what you telling me now with your mom."

Spencer being taken a back was an understatement. You'd always been so put together, so happy most of the time and you've always been the brightest light in the room. You also never showed any signs of having this going on in your personal life that he almost felt stupid for not seeing it, but you knew how to hide things pretty damn well. It was crazy how someone could be going through the worse and can hide it so well.

"She was severely depressed, she tried to end her life like, four times?" You rested your chin on your knee and laughed softly. "Lost count after a while."

"That's not funny—" Your face fell in realization that it wasn't a topic or time to joke around. He smiled to himself, finding your dark twisted humor somewhat concerning, but also alluring.

"Anyways, the first few times didn't really take a toll on me, and I'm not sure I can say why," You paused. "Maybe I just didn't allow myself to feel because I knew that if I did, I'd fall apart and I couldn't let that happen, I didn't want anyone to see it happened and maybe if i avoided doing os, i could pretend like it never happened but the time she ended up in the hospital was scary, to say the least."

"I had called 911 and she couldn't be alone before the ambulance arrived. My mom was coming home from work so she gave me specific order to not let her out of my sight. When I tried to stop her from leaving the house, she attacked me," You took a deep breath and smiled. "Couldn't even do anything about it,"

"I think the worst part is that I was just trying to help but with the state of mind she was in, she only saw me as a threat. She'd say the most nastiest shit just to get at me," You looked over at Spencer. "Which worked, in case you were wondering."

"She got taken to the hospital and I never spoke to her again," You shrugged, pulling your lips into a straight line. "Things just fell apart after that but, I don't feel guilty about not seeing her... I think."

"I offered her help and comfort, time and time again, after every attempt, I'd always tell her that I was right here if she needed me." You looked at your hands. "I wasn't going to let her destroy me and treat me like that after I had offered to help so many times, theres a certain point where you just can't help anymore. I couldn't help her if she didn't want to be helped. I had to accept it wasn't something I could fix, as much as I wanted to."

Spencer stared in silence. You looked at him and smiled. The two of you just sat in that confusing but comforting silence, staring into each other's eyes and letting this new light you had discovered about the other settle in. There was something unfamiliar yet satisfying pooling around you two. Something about seeing someone's vulnerabilities and listening and deciding to stay around was so sacred to you. Being the comedic relief in peoples lifestyles was specifically a way of avoiding letting anyone know and see your darkest sides, but somehow Spencer gave you enough security to let that go and be fragile with him and you now felt closer to him than ever.

"Look at us," You gestured. "Bonding over deep rooted family trauma's."

He shook his head and let out a laugh that in that specific moment, was music to your ears. You looked down with a smile.

"You know," He said, making eye contact with you again. "I find it very intriguing how most people don't know what's going on in someone else's head or life until they directly tell them, no matter how close they are,"

"Here, people usually tell me their secrets all the time, so I know a lot about others" He shrugged with a smile, diverting his eyes from you once again and right into his lap. "I think it's cause they know I don't have anyone to betray them too."

This saddened you, is that really what he thought? That he had no one to go to? Before you could dwell on it, he shot you a smile from the side. "Except my mother, I tell her pretty much everything."

"I knew you were a Momma's boy," You accused. "I bet you tell her about me all the time."

You had initially been joking but Spencer smiled softly and shook his head. "I do actually,"

Your laugh slowly faded but your smile remained. He looked at you closely, scanning your every movement with nothing but fondness. You felt your pulse in your throat and without missing a single beat you scooted forward on the couch, allowing yourself to be closer to him. He swallowed thickly, before you took his hand into your own.

"I think," You started, looking at his hand in your own as your fingers carressed his knuckles softly. "People go to you because they know they can trust you, and that isn't a bad thing."

"I haven't told anyone about my sister, and I didn't tell you with the security that you wouldn't tell anyone because you don't have anyone to tell," You looked at him. "I told you because I trust and care about you, Spence."

Never before had Spencer thought that he would ever be able to confide in anyone the way he confided in you. Just like you had stated before, you and Spencer brought the best out of each other, even if that meant talking about the worst. After a little while of silence you pulled Spencers arm open.

"Scooch." You fumbled around before letting yourself fall into his side, cuddling into him as much as you could and letting his arm drape around your shoulder. You grabbed his free hand and interwinded it with yours, smiling at how perfect his hand felt in yours. You felt your face flush at the newfound proximity, but it felt too good and too natural that you didn't have it in you to overthink. Spencer could say the same as he felt his body relax into yours. After a while of the two of you basking in each other's touch and comfort, you pulled away momentarily.

"If you ever scare me as much as you scared me today when you jumped in head first to talk to the UnSub, I will make it my personal job to make your life a living hell." You warned, looking at him intensely. He rolled his eyes laughing, and pulled you back into his side.

"Yes ma'am"

352 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 5 months

Text

His pretty girl -Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

I looved ur makarov fic n im here to request smth else w him, there's barely anything w him its sad How would makarov treat his dear wife when she's sick? I'm kinda sick rn so.. : 3 ---- F!Reader, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, nothing but fluff ----

A/N: short but good…I hope…

Vladimir was gone for some weeks. He couldn't come in contact with you so when you didn't show up to greet him he was worried. The drive home was usually calm but this time, he rushed it. Avoided all cars and soon, ran inside. The image he saw before his eyes, oh did it melt him. You were curled on the couch. The blanket slowly falls off your body. Used tissues all over the coffee table and floor. The tea was cold and your soft breathing gave him even more reason to clean the area as quietly as possible. Your shared bedroom was cleaned, all dishes washed and then he carried you to bed. The medication you took to sleep was so strong you didn't know he even carried you to bed. That entire night, he checked your temperature, kissed your forehead and held you against his chest.

When you got sick, the first time, he panicked, called a doctor and yelled at him when he said that all you needed to do was drink tea and take it easy. Now, knowing his pretty little wife too well, he knows all he needs to do. 8 am, have breakfast ready, with tea on the side and orange juice just in case you want that one more and it must be room temperature, not cold. He must put on some video as you eat because you like to catch up on some show as you eat. You like wearing his shirts more because you swear it makes you feel better, which is bullshit because he knows you like to just have a reason to wear his clothes.

He must wash all dishes, not complain about being tired because how dare he. Makarov knows this well mainly because it worked the first 4 times and this time it is the same. After breakfast, washing dishes, he has to take you on a walk, the air, the way you smile, oh he knows the fresh air helps that stuff nose and he also gets even more private time with you.

Lunch for a day or two is chicken soup, his grandmothers since he knows you loved it any time you were sick. Kisses on your forehead all day is a must, you know that. If you groan and push him away, he gives you a little frown and moves closer. "You know kisses are a part of the remedy, my pretty girl." He grins when you give him your lazy smile. Your face is hot from both the fever and from his lips. Once he and you eat lunch, he cleans the home and don't you dare walk to the bedroom, he has made it clear he needs to clean and sanitise the bed.

If he has a meeting, he doesn't go to it, it's over the phone as he is in bed and has you cuddled to him. You can't argue against it. Your husband must give cuddles while on the phone. It's a rule at this point.

At night, he makes dinner, makes sure it all tastes wonderful and then feeds it to you since wrapping you in a burrito can't let your hands move. It's a funny but cute image. You, sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around you which makes you look like a cute little bug as your husband feeds you dinner. Oh, the frowns and pouts you give to his giggle and laughter won't help, he just adores you this way.

After dinner, more cuddles and kisses come by. He calls it 'kiss the sick away.' When you lean on him he knows this is to sleep but he can't allow over 3 naps per day when you're sick. So, he carries you to the bathroom. Gives you your medicine, and takes the blankets, clothes and anything in between off you. The bath was set to a very comfortable temperature.

He undresses too and once he has both of you in the bath, he kisses your shoulders. Your warm back on his chest as he cleans your body with so much gentleness it has you leaning on him and smiling. "That's what you needed huh, pretty girl," he kisses your wet shoulder again and wraps his arms around you. You kiss his bicep and he chuckles. "Don't start, my love," he whispers. The lights dimmed, him and you…this is the perfect way to get better. He hums a song, the same one he married you to and the same one he hums when he is far from home.

"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers and kisses the nape of your neck. "I love you more," you whisper back. "We both know who wins this, so do you want to start this game?" He kisses your neck again and chuckles. In moments like this, in which the world is kind and calm, he appreciates life like any normal person would. "You always win, i want to win this time." You pout and know damn well he can't say no to his pretty wife. "Fine, you win this time but we both know I have a long winning streak in this game." He grabs your hand and kisses it. In his head, he already won. And in this life, he truly did.

A/N: Makarov and Ghost are the kind of man to give me a Hozier song kind of vibe and that is what feeds my fluff brain

Tags:

@makarovsbbg @sans-chara @selarus @liyanahelena @hilmiponken @personwhosucksassatmath @undercover-smutlover @ontopofyourceiling @kielsegur @johfamm0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rivivienner @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

683 notes · View notes

mikobeautifulheart · 2 months

Text

How JJK men react when they (or you) "accidently" fall on you (or them).

Including: Yuta, Yuji and Megumi

Tw: none unless you don't like falling over.

I KNOW THE TITTLE IS PAINFUL AND THE FIC IS NOT TOTALY EDITED. IM SORRY.

♡Yuta♡

All the second year students were at the traning field when you noticed that you forgot your phone.

Normally that wouldn't bother you, but today Yuta was supposed to come back from his training trip in Africa. There was nothing official with you guys but everyone around you could feel how much you both fell for each other. Just like the day he first arrived, you introduced yourself (probably the only person who did) to him. It was just like two wires fused and after that you guys became close. But it ened when Yuta left and you felt loke it was back to old times again with Maki, Panda and Toge.

"MAKIII" you yelled across the field as Maki was in the middle of her warm up lap.

"I NEED TO GO GET MY PHONE, ILL BE BACK SOON" You yelled getting a thumb up approval from her.

So you ran off the field and onto the path past the shed of cursed tools and straight to the main building in Jujustu high. You swung open the door and sprinted down the hallways.

Yuta was supposed to text you when he got back and nearly at the dormatrys because they changed the locks while he was gone and getting him his own key would take a while with his seemingly 'sudden' return. Luckily you had 2 keys made because you wanted a spare just in case it came handy.

You swung open the classroom door when you realised you forgot where you left your bag, which held your phone and pair of keys. You searched up the whole room panicking but to no avail. You looked at the clock on the wall. 4:00 pm. Yuta was supposed to be back at 4:10 and you figured the only other place your bag would be was on the bench bu the traning field...

Letting out a loud sigh of frustration you didn't want to waste any more time so you took a short cut to the oval. Right through the buildings window. You stood at the edge and pushed off landing harshly on the ground making you stumble a bit before sprinting again.

You made it to the field at 4:03, a new record, but still with your frantic searching you couldn't find your bag.

"I have to be quick before Yuta gets here or he'll be locked out the dorms!" You said franticly knowing your 3 classmates were watching you and wondering what you were doing.

You felt a tap on your sholder

"Tuna mayo Shakke."

(*We moved class rooms today remember?)

Your eyes went white realising you looked in the wrong room.

"I KNEW IT WAS IN OUR CLASS ROOM" You yelled before running again.

This time you went to the right room and saw your bag on your desk. You snatched it and looked at the time on your phone 4:11.

You said you would met Yuta at the schools enterance but there was no way you would make it there in time...unless you ran. Again.

You spun on you heals and with the last and most of your energy you ran head first into some body making them lose thier balance because the last thing they expected was getting rammed head first in a deserted hallway.

THUD

You fell onto your back in shock not realising the person hand was holding the back of your head making sure it never hit the ground.

"Are you alright!?" He asked looking down at you

It was Yuta.

"Yeah sorry about-YUTA?!" Your face flushed as his body caged your on the floor

"Sorry I didn't see you running then and just got in your way."

"NO, NO IT WAS MY FAULT" you were losing your sanity, he was so close and so...diffrent. His hair hung over his eyes and his body frame was way bigger from the last time you saw him.

He suddenly turned his head away from your gaze but you could see the red tint in his ears.

"Nice catch" you heard some one say

Both you and yuta looked down the hallway to see Maki standing there with a cursed weapon.

Immediately Yuta got up embarassed and offered you a hand up.

"Uh welcome back." You tried to act normally but that moment would live in your mind forever.

☆Yuji☆

You were in the library studying for Gojos "surprise quiz" that was taking place tomorrow. How were you going to get through all the subject set in the quiz with only one day's notice? Well you concluded that Gojo was not a very qualified teacher.

On the list of study books you'd need to read to take notes from there was one that was up impossibly high up on a shelf. But it was okay because there was a ladder at the end of the shelf you would just have to bring over.

You pulled the ladder over and made sure it was stable by shaking it a few times slightly, knowing there wouldn't be anyone to hold the ladder for you because Megumi, Nobora and Yuji were all currently out on a mission that you were no put on. It was a but disappointing but it was the perfect opportunity to study.

You got up on the ladder, when it came to the last step you got a bit nervous because the ladder began to shake a bit. But you took a deep breath and managed to make it up there without falling. You grabbed the book quickly got down the ladder. You put it on top of the other books you were using. You walked back to your table with all your study notes and materials.

It was a successful hour because you felt like you were finally ready. So you packed up your things and began to put the books back. Until it came to the high shelf. You tested the ladders durability again and finally took the first step. When tou were half way up, book tucked beneath your arm, you heard the library doors open and two people arguing. You already knew it was Nobora and Yuji. And if Nobora and Yuji were there then Megumi must be tagging along to. You kept climbing but a little faster so you could greet your friends back from their mission, however when you got to the top step you heard Nobora.

"JUST TELL HER YOU DAMNED IDIOT OR YOU'LL LOSE YOUR CHANCE!"

You looked down the ladder and saw the three (as predicted) walking toward the ladder when Nobora kicked Yujis back sending him forward right into the ladder you were on. With his instincts he grabbed a side of the ladder which only made him land on his back.

You let out a panicked gasp as you felt yourself lose your footing and fall off the ladder.

Nobora and Megumi watched in shock as the suddenly saw you fall off the ladder and crash...right into Yuji. Thank goodness for Yujis reflex skills because he managed to catch you. Catch being you landing the back of your head into his chest.

"YOU IDIOT" Nobora yelled

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED MY PRECIOUS Y/N"

"ME KILL HER? YOUR THE WITCH THAT PUSHED ME!" He yelled in retaliation you slowly sat up in-between his legs.

"Are you okay?" Yuji sat up to crossing his legs almost trapping you between him.

"Yeah I'll be alright" you mumbled but before you could rub the back of your pounding head you felt yujis hand on it.

"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time, really I didn't mean to hurt you"

"I know, it's okay Yuji I know you wouldn't purposely hurt me."

A blush spreads across his face and your body warms against his.

You look around trying to avert his gaze before realising that you didn't have the book any more.

"Huh? where did my book go..." your eyes wander to Megumi who's rubbing the top of his head with one hand and holding your book with the other.

"Here" He mumbled in pain.

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS ♡♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: yeah I'm not entirely happy with the Yuta part but maybe I'll re write it if you guys want. Also if you want a part 2 with other characters let me know because I was going to add Megumi but didn't.

283 notes · View notes

kissohee · 6 months

Text

losing ur virginity with riize members ot7 riize x fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : N/A ☆ mdni! warnings; mention of corruption kink?

shotaro ☆ losing your virginity is such a huge thing, and shotaro is always very happy that you want to lose it to him. however, he needs you to be sure you want him to take it for weeks before he actually does. just in case you were only feeling that way at that time, and he only wants to do it when he knows you are 100% ready. eunseok ☆ since it's your first time, whatever happens is up to you. if you want to ride him, you can. if you want him to be in control, he can do that! he doesn't really care about how he feels in the moment, and is more focused on you. he might have to remind himself that it's your first time quit a lot because he'll go overboard without realizing. lots of aftercare after though, he'll do anything for you. sungchan ☆ he's very excited but he pretends to be very calm about it. just the thought that he'd be taking your virginity had him hard before it even happened, which made him realize he had a corruption kink he had no idea about. but it doesn't show when it happens! he's actually very soft, looks can be deceiving. wonbin ☆ unlike sungchan, he is very calm about it inside. last thing he'd want to do is freak you out, and he never cared about virginity that much anyways. but nonetheless he's very thankful you trust him enough to lose yours with him. he'll hold your hand a lot during, and he'll constantly be kissing you. seunghan ☆ will prepare a dinner date beforehand. losing your virginity is a one time thing, and if it's not perfect, he would beat himself up over it. im talking rose petals, candles, soft music. he even changed all the bedsheets just to make sure the experience is amazing for you. and it is, he's very soft and he'll take it extra slow. just for you. sohee ☆ all you have to do is say the words "i want you to take my virginity" and he's practically jumping from happiness. we know he's extremely horny so he's been looking foward for this day to come. definitely less prepared, but that's what makes it more natural. he makes so many noises and he can barely stay still during, it makes you wonder if you're the one losing your virginity. anton ☆ anton truly believes that when the time comes, it comes. he's never seeking it out and he let's life do it's thing. when you're ready, of course you tell him and he makes sure to walk you through every step. it's very lighthearted, you guys might even laugh a bit if he's too big for you (which he is, lets be real).

ill probably write a "riize losing their virginity with you" ver later - 🐠

#riize smut #shotaro smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #sohee smut #anton smut

674 notes · View notes

sixosix · 7 months

Text

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader #lyney fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

skyburger · 24 days

Text

whos your favorite of the crusaders from part 3... i think i love baofu the most tbh

#persona 2 #baofu #jjba #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #joseph joestar #muhammad avdol #jean pierre polnareff #persona 2 eternal punishment #kaoru saga #p2ep #p2 #this is making me laugh stupid hard ITS NOT EVEN A GOOD BIT. THIS IS A STUPID BIT. but its really funny to me right now #im too lazy to type out context for this just search like the words ''baofu'' and ''joestar'' and youll probably find it #i mean. if tumblr search decides to work. but thats not up to me #(all jokes aside if u like cant actually find it just send me an ask and ill find it for u)#...should i tag this. i might tag this. i think im gonna tag this i want to really confuse and/or annoy someone #maybe even both if im lucky #and in case you were wondering (which im sure you were not):#i did actually google heights for this and try to make it roughly accurate. like i put a stupid amount of effort into this #not that much. but like for what this is? wayyyy too much time went into it #its okay though i had fun. peace and love on planet earth #muffin mumbles #edit: just remembered i think tumblr only shows the first few of ur tags im going to move the character tags to the front #so if these tags seem like theyre in a weird order. Thats probs why

19 notes · View notes

rinkkuma · 6 months

Text

୨୧ HAUNTED HOUSES

ft. isagi yoichi, sae itoshi, & michael kaiser

tags. a bit of cussing, gn!reader, kaiser being a little shit as always / author's note. HI GUYS im back on my writing grind Kinda maybe hopefully. i also cant believe its almost halloween already… anyways! i hope you guys like this small piece while i try to ease my way back into writing <3

ISAGI is the sweetest ever. you two stand side by side while he wraps his arm around your shoulder, holding you close. does not matter if you're scared or not, just wants to keep you close just in case. they're actors yoichi puts on a brave face and honestly is pretty good at it until, a clown jumps in front of him out of no where. you try so hard to not laugh, but it ends up coming out. “don't laugh at me!” yoichi mumbles as he adjusts his shirt, acting like nothing had happened. “i'm not!” as you gently punch his arm and lean into his warmth.

SAE doesn't know how he got here. is he scared? you honestly cannot tell because of his imitating, but oh so pretty resting face. in reality, he does not give a flying fuck about the actors. what he is really wondering is why people pay to get scared like? but hey, if you want to he'll go along with it. he stays behind you to make sure none of the actors scare you from behind, which he almost punches one because of one really good actor (emphasis on the really good he swears) scaring him. what really gets him screaming, running, crying is a section where the actors have fake chainsaws and start chasing you two. well, at least you got to see one thing that phases him.

KAISER laughs at you the whole fucking time. some of the actors even start feeling bad about scaring you because of how much of a ruckus he's making. “your scream is kinda cute sorry, baby.” he says as he's laughing up another storm. “oh you're so sleeping on the couch tonight.” you mumble. “you wouldn't dare.” he gasps as he deadpans you. “i would.” “you wouldn't.” “i would.” this keeps going until you two finally reach the end of the haunted house, completely forgetting that people were scaring you.

#blue lock x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #blue lock #blue lock fluff

461 notes · View notes

calumfmu · 15 days

Note

i really love your fics! could i request steve x f’girl reader? i love flipping tropes on their heads!

Hiiii!! Thank you so much <3 Sorry that this took so long, I'm getting out of a writer's rut, but this definitely helped me. I hope that this sufficed. I wasn't sure how smutty you wanted it, so I kinda met you in the middle. Steve x Fuckgirl!Reader 18+ mdni; smut-ish, heavy petting, making out, premature orgasm (lol quick Steve), allusions to sex, 4.4k+ words (Jesus h Christ, Im trying I swear)

It was late in Hawkins when you stumbled into the Family Video, sunset spreading golden orange and yellows across the sky. An overhead bell rang above you, signaling your arrival to the near empty store.

“Welcome in,” you heard a far away, meek voice say to you, you looked up to see a brunette girl, hair cut short and over sized vest hanging over her small frame. You raised your eyebrows in a greeting to her, hand waving slightly in her direction. Noticing how she blushed in response and quickly ducked her head, you laughed to yourself, used to those type of reactions from people—women and men alike.

You recognized her from school, a few years younger than you, was in band or something of the sort. Not really your crowd to hang with, but someone you briefly remembered from that time. She ran over to say something to another worker a few feet away from the counter, stumbling over her feet in the process.

Searching through horror films, you were bent at the waist, blue denims squeezing your hips in all the right places. Running your fingers over the VHS cases, you were startled by a hip crashing into the shelf next to you. The man to which it belonged to faked his cool, leaning against the shelf with one elbow, and his other hand running through his hair, smoothing it back into place.

Giving him a once-over with a raised eyebrow, you stood to your full height. He smiled at you, brown puppy dog eyes crinkling behind the size of the grin.

“Welcome to Family Video,” he rushed, sticking a hand out for you to shake. You eyed the hand briefly, smile toying at the corners of your mouth as you reached up to meet it.

“I think she’s got you beat, big boy,” you laughed, nodding your head over to the brunette who leaned over the counter to watch your interaction. Upon noticing you look at her, she turned around quickly, pressing random buttons on the cash register as if she hadn’t been staring.

The man turned to look at her, red blush covering his cheeks. “We just like to give all of our customers equal satisfaction, if you know what I mean.”

You gave him a face, wincing at the attempt of flirting he tried giving you. Turning back to the tapes, you were set on ignoring him, not really interested in his attempt for… whatever this was. He didn’t let up, choosing to straighten up and adjust his collar, fixing his sleeves as you found sudden interest in a description of a movie.

He cleared his throat, “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

His hand shot out again for you to shake, dropping it once he realized he had already done that. The girl’s laughter in the background urged some of your own, this man—Steve—being the worst at flirting you had ever seen in your life.

Clearing his throat, his voice was shaky as he said, “What can I help you find today?”

You briefly looked at him, noticing the confidence he had that flowed off of him. It was in the wrong place though, his flirting, if you could call it that, was all terribly wrong, nothing of the sort that you would expect from someone with his looks. There was something about him though, something that made him seem like he knew what he was doing even if his efforts were being missed. You could tell he had some sort of game, it all being lost on you.

“Think I’m managing just fine here.”

He chewed at the inside of his lip, seemingly wondering how to get around the rejection you gave him, short answers not giving him any room to continue. You grabbed a different movie off the shelf, satisfied with it as you turned to move towards the counter. He blocked your path, chest broad as his arms were crossed over it.

You ran your eyes over his chest, admiring the way the material stretched taut over muscle, showing off biceps you would love to imagine wrapped around you. Smirking up at him, you indulged in the feeling, ready to have some fun with the nervous boy stood in front of you.

“I can give you a few suggestions, hon.” The nickname had you staring up at him, eyebrows shooting up yet again. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really, I don’t think someone like you should be watching that alone.”

You pushed past him, fingers at your side lingering at his waist as you walked up to the counter to rent out. The girl—Robin, her name tag read—moved to help you, only to get knocked out of the way by Steve, his hurried attempt to make it around. Squinting your eyes at him, you shook your head, humour finding you as you realized his attempts wouldn’t stop.

“Watch it, shithead,” she grumbled, bumping him with her shoulder as she replaced him on the floor.

“Good thing I’m not watching it alone,” you smiled up at him, placing an ID on the counter for him to run your information. He said your name out loud, eyebrows wiggling at the mention of it. Rolling your eyes, you continued. “I’ve got a date with Billy Hargrove.”

Your thumb pointed outside, a blue Camaro parked outside the store that he noticed for the first time. Its loud engine could be heard from inside the store, rumbling so deeply you could feel it if you stopped long enough. His face fell, fingers faltering at the computer as he looked over at you.

“Billy? Seriously?”

You giggled, leaning across the counter as you decided to play into the game he was attempting—yet failing so miserably at. You smirked as his eyes dipped at your chest, noticing the way your low scooped top exposed more than it should’ve of. He tried to cover it up, clearing his throat as he made his return to the computer.

“Oh shit, did you have a date with him too?”

The look he gave you was incredulous, eyes deadpan as they cut to you.

“I’m just saying… not the best option,” he pointed to the tape in front of you, “to watch on a date with Hawkin’s worst option.”

You leaned even further, voice dropping lower. “Yeah, I don’t think the plan is to exactly… watch the movie.”

His face flushed as he turned to look at you, sliding the ID back over to you. Your eyes were hungry as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, audible gulp filling the room. This was your favorite part about being the town’s “most eligible bachelorette”, watching people crumble around you even when you did nothing.

“Well, what are you doing after?” He leaned into your space, face closer to yours as he tried mustering up the confidence he once had. “Bet I could show you a better time than that Hargrove guy.”

A small tapping sound filled the tense air as your fingers moved across the counter, imitating a walking motion with your index and middle. You trailed them up to Steve, ‘walking’ them up his body until you met the junction of his jaw, hand reaching out to lightly rub him on the cheek.

Your fingers traced the light dusting of stubble, feeling the prick of the hairs underneath your fingertips. His eyes were focused on you as you touched him, eyes low with a glimmer behind them.

“Is that so, Steve Harrington?” You pouted at him, his eyes clouding over as your hand ran across his cheek to trial to his hair. The sound of his name on your lips had him gaping, teeth running across the expanse of his bottom lip. Giving his hair a light tug, he leaned into it, mouth dropping as you removed it, placing it back onto the counter.

You leaned in closer to his face, inches away from his mouth as he subconsciously moved closer to you as well. From the close proximity, you could feel his breath on your lips, the scent of spearmint hitting you. His eyes remained low, fixated on your mouth.

Right as he leaned in to close the distance, you moved away. “Maybe next week I could pencil you in, I’ve got another date at 10. Busy gal.”

You gave him the fakest smile you could manage, grabbing the tape before turning on your heel. Making your way to the door, you turned around once more, noticing the way his eyes were glued to your hips.

“I’ll be back Friday,” you said, his eyes shooting up to yours. He seemed stuck in a trance, mouth parted into an ‘o’ as he stared at you, deep red flushed across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. That Robin girl stood in the distance, her own look of shock present on her face as she apparently had been watching the entire interaction. “You know, return policy and all.”

You spun around, swinging the door open as you exited. Robin’s voice was the last you heard in the store, ‘The Scoops legacy continues.’ Billy’s car revved at you, engine blaring through as you swung your body inside.

“Took long enough, sweetheart?” His sunglasses were low on his nose as he looked over them at you. You fought the eye roll you wanted to give him, the smacks he gave to his gum overwhelming you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, coy smile on your lips as you reached a hand to place on his thigh. His foot hit the gas again, revving the vehicle as you trailed your fingers over his groin. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

The speed in which he pulled out of the parking lot was nearly comical, your head slamming back into the head rear as tires screeched on black asphalt. Thoughts of the Harrington boy filled your mind as your plans with Billy became closer to reality, he wasn’t supposed to be in there—wasn’t supposed to be clouding your judgement especially when your entire MO was not to let anything linger.

The doorbell rang as you were in the middle of throwing a shirt on over your exposed chest, the final bit of credits rolling from the horror movie you picked out. Irritation pricked at the back of your neck, figuring it was Billy, returning due to forgetting something or to finish the job.

Marching over to the front door, you prepared to yell at the blond. You had kicked him out of your place, frustrated as he had a few too many to get it up. He had been pushing at you for weeks, practically begging to get a date with you, and the second he got one, it ended like this. It was disappointing to say the least, yet what was to be expected every now and then from the pick of Hawkins.

Throwing the door open, you hissed, “What do you want, Bill—oh.”

A pleasant surprise. It was Steve, red flowers in one hand and a VHS tape in the other. He looked nervous yet hopeful, tight blue jeans and a crisp polo, covered by a black jacket. Tilting your head, you looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to be at your doorstep. Let alone, not knowing how he even got your address in the first place.

“So, this is the right place,” he beamed, stepping through the front door as you moved to the side, too shocked to even question it.

You closed the front door, following him into the living room as he turned to give you the flowers. You accepted them, looking down at them in shock as he became suddenly nervous, teeth returning to his bottom lip to chew.

Your mouth sputtered briefly, “What is—how did you—Steve, what are you doing here?”

He clasped his hands in front of himself, teetering on his feet as he nervously gazed at you. You felt slightly exposed, a foreign feeling, as you stood there in a plain white t-shirt and pajama bottoms. You crossed your hands at your chest, pushing down the feeling as he stood in front of you. Straightening your posture, your eyebrow arched at him, throat clearing away the thought of him looking so good in front of you.

“Well, you said you were hanging out with Billy to watch, y’know—“ his thumb pointed to the TV, his mouth quirking at the corners awkwardly, “and that’s only like an hour, 30. Then, you said you had a date at 10, leaving you a few hours to, uhh, hang or… something. Busy gal, ya know?”

The repeated words from earlier had you blushing this time, a smile crossing your face as he made himself comfortable. You tried to immediately get rid of it, a step out of character from your usual when it came to boys. His face flushed as he held up the tape he was holding: Fast Times at Ridgemont High. You stared at it and him, eyes jumping back and forth.

“Fast Times. Short runtime. Perfect duo, if you ask me,” he smiled, hair falling into his face as he stepped a bit closer to you. You laughed at him, feeling too shocked to even argue with him.

You led him into the living room, taking the tape into his hands before setting it up in the player. He fell onto the couch with a sigh, leg shaking nervously as he looked around the living room. You made your way over to him, sitting next to him as he looked at you, smile wider than ever.

“How did you know where I lived?” The TV was loud as it started, the two of you jumping at it. The two of you laughed as you realized you had ended up a bit closer to him, hand resting on his thigh. Removing it, you settled back into the couch, clearing your throat as you tried to remain cool. You didn’t like this, how Steve made you nervous despite not doing anything. That was supposed to be your role, he was supposed to be the one falling to your feet.

“What do you think we need your ID for over at the store?”

Shaking your head, you took a good look at him, noticing the way the man had moles dotted around his face, marking him in perfect places. In this moment, you did recognize who he was, him being a year below you when you used to run Hawkins High. He had stepped up to bat by the time you hit your junior year, rumors of him running rampant around the school. Based on this version of him that stood in front of you, you couldn’t tell what had happened to him—where his confidence and irresistible charm had gone.

“You’re so—“

“Smart?” He finished for you, blushing. “Nah, I can’t take credit for that. It’s all Robin, she’s, like, my wing-woman at this point.”

As the movie started, he began to relax, settling into the couch, and his palms rubbed the cloth over his knees, legs parted. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, yet body turned to him, engaged in conversation that allowed you to get to know the man in front of you. The movie was a blur in the background, the two of you facing each other, inches away with hands just shy of touching each other.

The landline rang, pulling you out of the conversation, Steve’s gaze lingering on you for a second too long as you contemplated picking it up.

“You’re not going to get that?” The drop in his voice had you distracted, mind wanting to hear just how low it could get.

“Uhhh… I’m just going to let it go,” you answered, leaning into him. The phone went silent, his eyes briefly darting to it before returning to you. You were much closer to him now, your tongue licking at the corner of your mouth. “Can I try something, Steve?”

“Uh huh,” he whispered, hand shooting up to place on your cheek as you leaned in. Your lips met, two pairs of eyes fluttering shut. He was soft, lips fitting snug into the shape of yours, tongue warm as it found its way into your mouth.

“You’re gonna get it now?” He muttered against your lips with a slight smile, pressing soft kisses to you. You hadn’t even noticed the phone was ringing again, too caught up in the way his fingers felt in your hair, the other planted softly at the base of your neck.

“I guess I should,” you didn’t even open your eyes, continuing the kiss as you began to straddle him, pressing him into the plush couch cushion. The phone went silent once more, only to be ringing again, in what seemed like a more urgent matter if that was even possible.

“For fuck’s sake,” you exclaimed, pushing off of him as you stormed over to it. “Who is it?”

Steve’s face was flushed, his hands adjusting his hair and pulling at the rumbled front of his shirt. He sat up slowly, pressing the back of his hand to his cheeks to cool them as he began to notice how flustered he had become. You trailed your eyes over him from across the room, hunger in your eyes.

“Oh, Billy—hey.”

The name had Steve stiffening, his face dropping as you continued the phone call. He directed his attention to the television once more, pretending to tune out the conversation, yet you knew he was listening.

Billy’s words in your ear were droning on, a blabber of speech that sounded strikingly similar to the parents in the Peanuts cartoons. You fought the eye roll, even if he couldn’t see it, you had to save face in front of Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, babe…” You spoke to him, putting up your best good girl voice that normally works in this situation. Steve’s head ticked slightly in your direction, eyes squinting barely. “Of course, we can try again. Anytime.”

Steve stood up, hands dusting over his jean pockets as he dug his foot into the carpet. He seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with himself, hands moving from in his pockets to outside to crossed at his chest to finally rest at his hips. He cleared his throat, you pulled the phone away from your ear to listen for his next words.

“Hey, uhh, I think I’m going to get going,” he muttered, face flushed as he pointed his thumb towards the front door. As he went to go turn, you hung up on Billy, ignoring his shout of protest as it hit the hook.

“Wait! You’re leaving?” You asked, rushing over to him as his back was turned to you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, fingers urging him to sit down before you returned to your previous position, knees caging in his hips, your bum pressed firm into his lap. His fingers came to rest at your fingers, spread wide over the expanse of skin, slightly pushing up your pajama top.

“I… you seemed busy,” he sounded distracted as you began to press kisses to his neck. His head hit the back cushion, hips rutting up into yours before he could even think of it. You ground down on him, a roll of your hips pulling a guttural moan from him.

“Can’t we have some fun first, Steve?”

His eyes fluttered shut at your hips worked magic over his, the bulge in his jeans growing by the second as your fingers explored his chest, finally feeling the firm press of muscle beneath them. Meeting his lips again, you pushed the kiss further, licking into his mouth with a fervor behind it.

He placed a hand in your hair, pulling you into him as your chest pressed against him, pants escaping your mouths.

“It’s okay, Steve,” You whispered against his mouth, arching up into him. He was beyond hard in this moment, grinding up into you as you worked him, movements slow, yet calculated over him. “I’m yours for tonight.”

He nodded into the kiss, pulling his hand towards the front of your sleep shorts, fingers dipping below the waist band to brush over your pubic bone. You gasped at the feeling, head pulling away from him to look down at his hand disappearing behind your shorts. His fingers brushed over you, slight pressure applied to your clothed clit.

You arched into the touch, your own hand coming to rub at the front of his pants, brushing over his bulge pressing at the front. The two of you became breathless, heavy pants filling the room as you rubbed at each other. His fingers moved in circles over you, the material of your panties separating the skin-on-skin contact dampening with each movement.

“You know, I’ve—“ his voice was strained, caught in his throat as he spoke, eyes low as he looked up at you on top of him. “I’ve always had a crush on y—“

You kissed him again, swallowing his words as the confession left your mouth. Your heart began to pound in your chest, arousal briefly leaving at the words. That was something you didn’t do, no, definitely not. He wasn’t going to sit here, look pretty as he fell apart, and confess his true feelings for you.

His breath hitched even further as you slipped your hand into the waistband of his jeans, gripping him through the thin material of his boxers. Fuck, of course, he’s huge, you thought to yourself. His looks, of course, weren’t enough for him.

The grasp on him had him mewling, hips coming up off the couch as you felt around, giving him light tugs. He tried keeping up the movements with his own fingers on you, failing as he fell apart under your touch. With a low moan, his hips stilling as he came, eyes squeezed shut with his chest heaving rapidly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tongue darting out to dampen his red, kiss-swollen lips. You kissed its traces, giggling at him as he opened his eyes to meet you. You were tempted to sit there for a moment, get lost in the deep amber of his eyes, find yourself a home there. That wasn’t your MO, you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

You pulled yourself from him, clambering off of him as you adjusted the front of your clothing. Glancing back at the tape forgotten on the tv, the credits began to roll, the distorted flashing of the Ridgemont Mall showing on screen.

“Hey, you didn’t even—“

You cut him off, smiling as you began to walk towards the tape, turning it off as you spoke, “You better get going.”

You handed him the tape, tucked into its sleeve as he sat on the couch, shirt ruffled up, pants loose at the waist, dark patch wet at the front. He glanced down at himself, embarrassment flooding his cheeks at the state he was in.

“What about…” He didn’t finish his words, shaking his head as he stood up off the couch. You sat in silence with one another as he fixed himself, his hands running through tendrils that lay across his forehead.

Walking him to the front door, you chewed at your bottom lip, feet shuffling under you as he stood in the door frame. You avoided eye contact, hand clasped on the door as he stood there, searching for something to say. You felt if you looked at him, you would cave, would give in to feelings that you knew would be bad for you.

“Could I, at least, see you again?”

The sound of his voice had you looking at him, heart beating faster as he looked so sincere with the porch light casting a halo around him. He looked unraveled, yet in the best way, cheeks still coloured red from his high.

You went to shake your head, wanted to explain your thing when it came to situations like this, yet you found yourself pausing in the movement. His confession earlier stung at you, eating away at a part of you that was surprising to even be there in the first place. Reluctantly, you nodded, ignoring the beam he gave you immediately.

“Friday,” you supplied, knuckles lightening in color as you gripped the wood. As he opened his mouth to speak, you covered it quickly, “Return policy and all.”

The joy was gone from him, smile falling just as quickly as he gave it to you. If there was any time for you to feel like a villain, it was now—this opportunity feeling like taking candy from a child. Only it was worse. Yet he had to know this was just how you operated, his own rumors that once circled the town not straying far from your own. Turning on his heel, his head was low as he made his way down your walkway.

Slowly, you shut the door behind him, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned to rest your forehead against it. The feeling of guilt in your chest was inexcusable, the length of time you had even known this boy too short to make up for it. His confession earlier lingered in your brain, wondering what might have happened if you urged him on, pressing details of his crush.

You fought the thoughts for the rest of the night, ignoring them as you were pressed into the back seat of another boy’s car at Lover’s Lake. Had to focus on the feeling of the stranger’s hands on you, the feeling of him inside of you as windows became steamier, clothes were shed. Notches on your belt were what they seemed, nothing too much to think about as you ignored the gnawing in your chest.

Friday came and went, Robin standing behind the counter as you pressed the tape over the counter into her hands. The boy that remained on your mind was nowhere to be seen, missing from the floor as your eyes searched the heads appearing in between aisles of films. And if when you asked about his whereabouts and Robin gave you an answer alluding to him coming down with something, you definitely did not fight the feeling to be upset, figuring it was just as much nothing to him as it was to you. You didn’t call Billy back that night, didn’t pretend it was Steve instead who was kissing you, arching you down in a way you would’ve loved to be with him with.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington smut #smut #loser!steve #ugh love him #that's my baby #I hope you enjoyed this #requests

183 notes · View notes