#pulling a shirt over his fireproofs so you can’t see his body

[leclercskiesahead]

First days (first dates)

#charlos #Charles was like this. fancy little guy with his sunglasses #looking around being like where do I find myself a hot man #and seeing this Spanish dude in the pool #but also Carlos literally just wears his team gear #pulling a shirt over his fireproofs so you can’t see his body #meanwhile charles is displaying his whole waist #but this clueless Spanish guy isn’t getting the hint #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc #f1 #the narratives from this picture alone #pre-Ferrari charlos

[sincerelyneo]

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it. 

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.” 

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 

Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker. 

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 

But you do it. 

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 

You groan, I'm going to my room." 

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 

“What are you doing?” You spit. 

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy. 

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?" 

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question." 

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face. 

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 

Fuck no. Absolutely not. 

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 

"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 

He’s thought about this? You know you have. 

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off." 

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely. 

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl." 

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 

"You want it." He says point blankly. 

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget. 

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats. 

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now. 

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 

"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 

"I was hot." You shrug. 

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh. 

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop smut #nct hard hours

[dilemmaontwolegs]

helloooo, could you write a fic where the OC is also a f1 driver and they're Lando's rival, buutt one race weekend she goes into his driver's room to argue with him but they do more because they're both frustrated? like pure smut

The Fine Line || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!driver!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, angst, smut WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist

No one tried to stop you as you stormed through the McLaren garage, ascending the stairs two at a time just to reach the driver's room quicker. Your heel planted on the door and it flew open with a bang and left a handle sized hole in the plaster where it struck.

"I get that you don't like me but you don't have to drive me into the fucking wall, Norris."

Lando had barely returned to the room after crashing out of the race with the collision but you were too angry to see the state of his undress, his fireproof shirt carelessly strewn across the floor.

“You really think too highly of yourself,” he scoffed, pulling the door out from the wall and slamming it closed. 

“So you didn’t cut into my line and take me out?” you dared, the video footage proof that it was exactly what he had done.

“I can’t stand you, why would I want to go anywhere near you and your precious racing line?” he growled as each step brought him closer until he was dominating your personal space.

Your lips pulled up into a taunting smirk and you tilted your head back to meet his eyes. “You are awfully close, for a man that doesn’t want to be near me.”

His eyes traced the curve of your lips before he dragged them back to your eyes and he dipped his head to whisper in your ear.  “You came here first.”

Your mouth was dry as you swallowed and the room suddenly felt too hot. “Because you put me into a fucking wall, Norris.”

“This is putting you into a wall,” he said as he pushed you back. 

You waited for the impact but his arm snaked around your back and his palm cradled your head before the contact came. His entire body was pressed the length of yours and a needy whine escaped your lips as the race high and adrenaline left your body screaming for an outlet. 

“You like that? Hmm?” he smirked but you returned it as you rolled your hips and felt his erection proudly digging into your stomach.

“Don’t take it personally, Norris, it’s not you, you just have the right…bits.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He fingers toyed with the zip and your collar, waiting to see if you would slap them away in this strange game of chicken. The only sounds were the quickening of your breath and the tear of Velcro before he drew the zip down your body and saw your skin-tight fireproof shirt beneath. 

You dragged your nails down his back and smirked as he groaned at the heat that flared from the five angry red lines. Nipping at his jaw, he bucked his hips before you pushed him away. “And I don’t care.”

“Bullshit,” he chuckled when he recovered and combed a hand through his messy hair. “Just admit it, you want me.”

“I want you, Lando,” you admitted as you opened the door. “I want you…to stay the fuck off my race line.”

Two Months Later You had the cash ready in hand when the knock at your door came, but it wasn’t who you expected on the other side. 

“Blocking me?” Lando huffed as he pushed his way inside your suite. “That’s fucking low.”

You rolled your eyes at the scathing attitude. “You think I wanted a penalty? I wasn’t even impeding you, there was plenty of room if you used your eyes to look for something other than the paddock bunnies.”

You started to close the door when the food you had ordered arrived, the poor man looking unsettled as his eyes danced between you and Lando. “Are you alright, ma’am? Would you like me to call security?”

The hostility was palpable and you chuckled as you took the bag, handing the money over with a sizable tip. “I can handle him, thanks.”

He clearly wasn’t all that satisfied but nodded and left, wishing you a good evening before you closed the door. The entire hotel didn’t need to hear you and Lando’s war of words. 

“You can’t even handle qualifying,” he scoffed, peeking over your shoulder into the bag. “Is that katsu?”

“Yes, and no, you are not getting any.” You wanted to eat it while it was hot but you couldn’t ignore the papaya elephant in the room. “Did you come here for anything else?”

“Like what?”

“How would I know? I don’t know what goes on in that little head of yours. But I picture it’s something like that monkey banging cymbals together on repeat.”

“You were right with the banging,” he muttered as he helped himself to your mini bar. “Wrong with the animal.”

“Gross.” Effectively put off your food, you pushed the dish away and decided a drink was better. Lando was leaning against the countertop, his legs wide manspreading and his arms crossed, trying to look dominant. He watched you bend down to grab a miniature bottle of champagne from the fridge, not bothering with a glass as you popped the cork. 

“Want a sip?” you offered. “It’s the closest you’ll get to tasting victory.”

“God I hate you,” he growled as he pushed your hand away. 

You chuckled and took a sip of the sweet bubbles. “There’s a fine line between love and hate. I think you’re just confused.”

“Okay, I love to hate you.” 

You stepped between his legs and placed your bottle next to his on the bench. He watched with half hooded eyes as you reached for his belt and made no effort to stop you from unbuckling it. “Is that why you always find a reason to come to my room?”

“Don’t act like you don’t get off on it too.” His arms uncrossed and his hands drifted over your hips before disappearing into the back pockets of your jeans where he squeezed your ass. His breath teased the shell of your ear as a hand snaked up your neck until he cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing beneath your eye as he whispered, “I remember seeing tears last time, you came so hard.”

“Those were tears of disappointment, that you couldn’t last longer,” you lied. The bastard was right, no one could make you angry like he could but it made for some explosive sex. 

“I can go all night, baby,” Lando chuckled darkly before his hand dropped to the base of your throat and he crushed his lips to yours. His fingers tightened slightly, warning you of his strength as he pulled back and bit his bottom lip in contemplation. “Guess I’ll just have to remind you again.” 

The colours of your clothes clashed as they were abandoned to the floor, his McLaren papaya and your Alpine pink proving just how badly the two together were. But it didn’t stop you from taking him to your bed, from your bodies colliding with desperate need, from crying out his name in ecstasy. 

His body bore the marks of your nails, and yours held the marks of his mouth, where he had nipped and sucked his way across your collar. There was no care given between you in the primal need to chase a high, an outlet for the fire that burned inside of you, except for where you marked each other.

“There they are,” Lando chuckled proudly as his fingers left bruises on your hips, pulling you back to meet his hips with every long hard thrust. His pace was relentless, your thighs shaking as you lost all sense of self and screwed your eyes shut as you felt them begin to sting. 

Your throat was hoarse and your lips swollen from the dominating kisses that stole the louder cries from them. His skin was slick with sweat and his breath came in quick pants as his forehead crumpled in restraint, his teeth clenched together. 

“Go on, baby, open your eyes for me,” he taunted as a tear escaped the corner, disappearing into your hair as you shook your head. “No?”

He didn’t like to be denied and his palm slapped down on your clit, eliciting a sharp whimper as it only intensified the heat in your core. Your back arched and your lips curled into a smirk before parting with a drawn out moan as he snapped his hips even faster, the room filling with the sound of his skin slapping yours. 

“Open. Your. Eyes,” he growled, pinching your nipple sharply.

“Ah,” you cried out as your eyes flew open and to meet his. The heat exploded as you came again, the waves of the orgasm rocking your entire body and his jaw fell slack at the feel of your walls clenching tight around him.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he succumbed to his own release. He pulled out and spilled himself over your stomach, fisting his cock and squeezing out every last milky drop before sitting back on his heels panting. His face was smug as he memorised the sight before him, your eyes half closed, your lips parted, the hickeys he left on your collar, the mess he left on your belly, your clit swollen and oversensitized, your cunt dripping with your arousal. “Fuck.”

He climbed off the bed, stumbling a bit with lightheadedness before catching himself and grabbing his clothes. You rolled over like a lazy cat and watched him dress just as quickly as he had undressed before leaving without a goodbye. You would have remained silent too with his exit except you heard the telltale crinkle of a paper bag and everything you felt before came crashing back.

“Get your own fucking food, Norris!”

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #lando norris smut

[rafeandonlyrafe]

life of a race car drivers wife

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, quickie

you run down the pitlane towards the podium, following closely behind his team in all red. you watch in awe of your husband as he pulls his car into the number one spot. the team members let you push to the front, pressing yourself against the fence as he gets out of the car, throwing his arms up in the air as the crowd cheers.

you let out a loud cheer as he jumps into the awaiting crowd of mechanics, engineers, and strategist that all pat him wildly on the back and helmet. he pauses to give the team principal a firm handshake. you see tears in some of their eyes. this is so much more than a race win, it’s a championship win, both for the driver (your husbands first) and the teams constructors championship.

your husband pulls off his helmet and then his balaclava. you watch as the camera flashes increase, listening to the shutter sound triple. you smile at him as his eyes scan down the metal fencing to find you.

“baby.” rafe breaths out, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you as flush to his body as he can with the fence in the way. “i’m so proud of you.” you sniffle, holding back your urge to cry as you press your face into his race suit. 

“couldn’t have done it without you.” rafe says, taking your jaw into his hand and tipping your face, pressing your lips together. you know that the picture is going to be posted all over the internet, but you don’t care as you let him deepen the kiss, showing a bit too much passionate if it wasn’t for the fact that he just won the championship.

“i love you.” you tell rafe as he pulls away, knowing he can’t stay much longer, that he has to go to post race interviews, receive his trophy on the podium, spray champagne, and then all the media and team duties after that. 

by the time you finally get rafe alone, he’s in his drivers room, finally getting a moment to shower and change, to take a breath in peace as he processes the emotions of the championship, what he’s worked so hard all season long for, spending countless hours in the gym and on the racing simulator, pushing his body and his car to the maximum every race weekend.

“how are you feeling?” you ask with a giggle as rafe sits down on his massage table, resting his head back against the wall.

“i think the only time i’ve ever felt like this is the first time i fucked you.” rafe says, making you laugh and slap him on the thigh.

“come here.” rafe says, beckoning you to sit next to him, but you take your preferred place, pulling yourself onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

you run your hands through his hair, fixing it despite the sweat and champagne that is covering it, soon to be washed out when he takes his much desired shower.

“god, i kind of don’t want to go to the team party tonight.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your lips before resting his head against the wall again, exhausting from the hard battle on the track.

“you have to though, rafe.” you laugh, tugging at his race suit, opening them up and unzipping it so you can push it off his shoulders and down his arms. you bite your lip as you admire the way his fireproofs cling to his skin, showing off every groove of his body, his large pecs and defined abs. “besides, you’re going to get to the club and drink and dance with me, and you’re going to have fun. you can’t not celebrate a freaking world championship!” “i would just rather celebrate a different way.” rafe says, squeezing your hips down against him, giving you a smirk that you recognize.

“we could…” you say, grinding your hips forward. “we have enough time if we hurry.” “fuck.” rafe moans, and you feel him swelling underneath you. “get undressed, hurry.”

you smile and hop off his lap, rushing to pull your shirt off, bright red, to match rafes suit and racecar. you tug your jeans off next, cursing their tight fit as you struggle for longer than you’d like before getting them off. by the time you’re nude, rafe is undressed as well.

“come on.” rafe says, gesturing to the massage table. you nod and lean yourself over it, knowing rafe is going to get a knock on his door in about 15 minutes to hurry up and get finished with his shower.

he still takes a moment to drop to his knees behind you, spreading you skin and pushing his mouth in between your thighs, licking at your clit and then entrance to make sure you’re nice and ready for him, even though you’ve been wet since he overtook his teammate for the lead with 10 laps to go.

“favorite taste, better than the sweetest champagne.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your clit as you let out a low moan, trying not to sound too loud, knowing the walls are thin. “promise me i can taste you more later, when we have time.” rafe says. one of his favorite celebrations is to bury his head between your legs and not to come up until you’re literally crying. 

after his first race win, he made you cum on his tongue 10 times, the number of race starts that it took him until he was standing on the top step of the podium.

“of course, rafe.” you nod, feeling his hands squeeze your his before the head of his hard cock presses against your entrance. you press your face into the sheet covering the massage table, hoping it helps muffle your moan as he pushes inside.

he barely gives you a moment to adjust before his hips start snapping into yours, an obscene slapping noise filling the small room as his flesh meets the skin of you ass.

“this good baby?” rafe asks, wanting to make sure that the pace was okay. you nod, knowing you’re going to make sure he’s the focus right now, his pleasure, his celebration for the championship win.

you push your hands against the table to bring your body up, starting to gently rock back against him to meet his every thrust. “god, baby.” rafe mutters. “this is better than any trophy i’ve won.”

you start to meet his thrust in earnest, pushing back against him so you’re coming together is hard and deep, feeling only the slightest bit of discomfort inside of you as he uses your cunt.

you squeeze your pussy around him, clenching with every thrust, every time he pulls out before pushing back in, like you’re trying to keep him in forever, a luxury you know you don’t have, responsibilities and time bearing down on you.

rafe moves a hand from your hip to your front, rubbing at your clit with two fingers, trying his best to get you off while still moving harshly.

“yes, yes, yes.” you moan, bringing a hand to press over top of rafes, the one thats rubbing your pussy, so you can keep him there, letting him know you much you like it, how much you need it.

“baby, i’m close.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

“cum in me.” you moan out, knowing if anyone was close by they’d hear you, but you don’t care. besides, they’d probably understand. understand that you’re simply congratulating your husband on a spectacular race, in his name joining those of legend, going down in the history books forever. “cum in me, my world champion.”

that seems to spur rafe on to finish, becoming almost animalistic, not holding back his grunts as his cock swells inside of you, fingers moving almost unbearably fast against your clit.

“right there!” you shout, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure becomes too much, too good, overwhelming your senses. “right fucking there.” “god, i’m coming.” rafe moans out, and you feel it soon after his declaration, his release, inside of you, thick and warm, filling you as your orgasm soon takes over your body, rafes fingers never slowing as he works through his own high, hips grinding deliciously against your bum.

“staaa-stop, oh my god.” you eventually have to push rafes hand away as your clit pulses, becoming too sensitive for his pace. you press your fingers firmly against your clit, needing the pressure but not the stimulation. 

there’s a sudden knock on the door, making you jump, pussy clenching around rafes cock, making him groan out before he’s able to answer. “who is it?” “we’re almost ready for more photographs, are you finished?” they ask, the voice of his media rep clear as day through the shut door, making you realize even more how unmuffled the sound is.

“give me 10 minutes.” rafe calls back, giving you a slap on the bum as he pulls out of you.

“fine.” his rep sighs, “but actually 10 minutes, we’re waiting on you world champ.” “come on.” rafe says, tugging you towards the shower. “shower with me.”

you come out of the drivers room, both clean and redressed. rafes arm is around you, hand squeezing you against his body, trophy in his other hand as you re-enter the garage. once they notice rafe is back, they erupt into cheers, clapping for their world champion. rafe waves, and you duck away, knowing that you have to wait for you next moment with rafe, but that’s the life of a racing drivers wife.

#reupload! #rafe fic #rafe smut #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot

[sionisjaune]

Post Australia emotionally fraught brocedes phone sex set loosely in the dirty valentine verse for @blorbocedes who has been bothering me about teasing brocedes and not following through:

“Hey,” Lewis gasped into the phone. He felt the way his throat was raw, chafed-at by his own breath. “I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

Nico snorted. Lewis imagined him combing his fingers through his hair, holding his phone between ear and shoulder and rolling his eyes. “I have the broadcast on,” Nico said. “What a shit show. Where are you?”

Lewis glanced side to side, as if he should verify where he was. The cold walls of his driver’s room greeted him.

“Driver’s room,” said Lewis. He could still hear the sound of his engine failing. He’d had a bad premonition since free practice.

Nico clicked his tongue. “Good,” he said. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Lewis pulled the phone away from his ear, shocked. He replaced it, cupping it gently with one hand against his ear. “We’re not—“ said Lewis. He and Nico hadn’t spoken in a handful of weeks, Lewis busy with the foundation and the team and next year’s team and Nico jetting across Europe doing whatever he did.

“We can,” said Nico. “If I were there, I would fuck you right now. Let’s pretend I’m there. Do you remember Qatar?” Nico’s voice twisted slyly. Of course Lewis remembered Qatar. He remembered his leg draped over Nico’s shoulder, splayed open on the massage table inside the hospitality, Nico rushing to dress afterwards so he could run back to the Sky box in time for the post-race press.

“You do,” said Nico. “Lewis, touch yourself.”

Lewis slipped a shaky hand down his body and cupped himself through the thin material of his fireproofs.

“Are you doing it?” said Nico. “I think you are.” He was nearly purring through the phone now. Lewis performed a mental calculation and ascertained that, in Ibiza, Nico must be awake at an absurd hour in order to take Lewis’s call. Lewis pictured him standing on the back porch, leaning against a bleached wood rail and gazing onto the beach, his phone glowing beside him.

“Slowly, at first,” Nico instructed, and Lewis listened despite himself, his eyes fluttering shut and the white walls of his driver’s room melting away as he massaged his dick through his fireproofs. He heard the sharp intake of breath when Nico paused. “You’re trying to deny yourself,” said Nico. He laughed flatly. “Take your clothes off. I know you don’t want to enjoy this, but I’m going to make you. Sit up.” Lewis shifted his phone to the other side and lifted himself off his back. He shimmied his fireproofs down his hips and pulled them off. “Shirt too,” said Nico through the phone, as if he could see Lewis. “Now lie back down,” Nico insisted.

Lewis flattened himself back on top of the sofa, completely naked, his thighs splaying. His hard cock flopped against his thigh, thick with blood. He wrapped a hand around it and bit down on a groan.

“Good,” said Nico. “At least you’ll get something good out of today. At least you won’t—“ Nico paused. Lewis knew that pause—the diabolical silence when Nico was planning some scheme to catch Lewis off guard. “At least you can’t fuck this up.”

Lewis’s lungs seized, and simultaneously, a disorienting wave of arousal coursed through him. He squeezed the base of his dick instinctually, his hips arching off the bed.

“No,” he pleaded.

Nico seemed to hesitate before speaking. “Oh, I think so. I think you’ve been underperforming. But you can perform for me right here, right now. I want to hear you get yourself off.”

“Fuck you,” said Lewis, stripping his dick, eyes squeezed shut.

“You wish I would,” said Nico, bored. If he had a landline, he’d be twisting the cord around his phone. Instead he was probably sleek and wireless and holding a giant iPhone to his ear, expressionless. “You want someone else to take charge. You want your life to stop being on you. But you have to do it yourself now. Come on, Lewis.”

Lewis rubbed his thumb under the head, teetering on the precipice of a toe-curling orgasm.

“Do this for me,” Nico murmured. “Make up for the boring fucking race I had to watch. I pay to see Lewis fucking Hamilton, but I didn’t see him on track today.”

“Not my—“ Lewis groaned, jerking himself ruthlessly. “Fault—“ he said. His back arched when he came all over his stomach, ropes of come painting his abdomen. Silence followed over the phone while Lewis panted. He didn’t think Nico was ever trying to get off, was probably just high-handedly directing Lewis’s orgasm before breakfast. Lewis tried to imagine a younger Nico that Lewis would have actually listened to. At that time, he would have been more inclined to throw Nico around himself and make him follow Lewis’s commands.

“Was that,” said Nico, “okay?”

A thick exhale escapes Lewis’s mouth. “That was fucked,” he said.

“No kidding,” said Nico. Lewis noticed that he grew laconic when he was unsure of himself.

“You know it was just a mechanical error,” said Lewis.

Nico clicked his tongue again. Lewis could picture him rolling his eyes. “Of course I fucking know. But it doesn’t fit with the ‘you fuck yourself to make up for your shit performance on track’ narrative I was building.”

“Of course not,” said Lewis, growing aware that he was completely naked in his driver’s room, his own come all over his stomach, and Nico’s voice on speakerphone while the race still raged outside. “Hey. Are you going to be staying in Ibiza for a few more days?”

“I can,” said Nico slowly.

“I’ll… stop by,” said Lewis.

“I’m working in China,” said Nico.

“China,” said Lewis.

“I’ll be there,” Nico clarified, sounding impatient.

“That’s not for—“ said Lewis.

“Four weeks,” Nico finished.

“I’m booking a flight for tomorrow,” said Lewis. He was already swiping through his phone, messaging one of the assistants to find him a flight to Ibiza that worked with his schedule at the factory.

Nico sighed. “Should I prepare to get back what I gave today? You might have to warm me up first. I haven’t—”

“See you,” said Lewis

#i wrote this #brocedes #dirty valentine

[whorekneecentral]

Can you pretty please give us you being an employee for Mercedes and having grown really close to Lewis during your time working there, and one night you’re alone in your hotel room trying so hard to get yourself off after a long day of being sexually frustrated between Lewis’ teasing and seeing how hot he (and his massive bulge) looks in his race shit. But while masturbating you didn’t realize that you accidentally called Lewis and he’s been listening to you while simultaneously getting himself off. And when you realize this, you’re all embarrassed and on the verge of freaking out until he soothes you and let’s you know that he’s on his way to your hotel room so you can be fucked properly 😌

And cue you both being in for one hell of a night 😮‍💨

okay pur this is so hot, how did this get buried in my inbox ?? - part two

His press officer followed him everywhere. Everywhere Lewis was, you followed behind. Not just because it was your job but because you actually liked the guy. 

You and Lewis got on well, you had the same sense of humour, got along outside of track, your personalities complimented each other. 

Everyone seemed to notice that; the fans commenting on how sweet you and Lewis were. 

A picture of you two went viral, Lewis give you his coat as the rain came down, holding the umbrella over the two of you as you walked back to the Mercedes hospitality together. Lewis’s coat swallowed you whole, the jacket too long and too big on him so it basically covered all of you. 

It was late in the afternoon when you got back to the hotel, Lewis driving the two of you back. 

Once again, you were wearing his coat because you left your sweater in your room that morning. The driver walks you to your door, you give him back his coat. “Thank you.” you smile as you hand it back to him. 

“No worries, sweetheart.” Lewis rests a hand on your arm, “sleep well.” 

“You too,” you step into your room and shut the door. You were exhausted, quali was washed out by the rain, the media in a frenzy about the starting grid. 

Lewis didn’t bother changing before press today, his racesuit hanging off his hips as he spoke to the reporters. His black fireproofs clinging to his body. The image engraved in your mind as you dropped yourself on your bed, you stretch and relax into the mattress. 

You just needed to relax for a bit before doing some work for tomorrow. 

Your white shirt smelled like Lewis’s cologne; strong and manly. Your head was swirling, next thing you know, your hands are between your legs. 

The phone on the bed was unlocked, you didn’t even realize with all the shifting, you had accidentally called someone.  

Lewis was confused when your name popped up on the screen, he sits on his bed before he answers. “Y/n?” he asks, the line was quiet. Lewis calls you name again before he realizes what had happened. 

You called him by accident. 

Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a faintest moan. Surely he heard wrong. 

There’s no way you’re - “Lew,” you breath, your voice light and airy.

You were touching yourself.. on the phone with him... to the thought of him? 

No, his ears were deceiving him. There’s no way in hell he’s hearing right. 

“Lew - oh, like that.” You mumble, your back arching slightly, the knot in your stomach tightening. 

Lewis sat quietly on the other end of the line - it was wrong to listen but he couldn't pull himself away. 

To hear his name fall from your lips like that was like heaven on earth. 

The sound slipping past your lips was angelic, his cock twitches just at the sound. He can’t help but think what you would feel like wrapped around him.

You were laying there, catching your breath when you heard him call your name. Your blood run cold, unsure if your mind is playing a trick on you. 

“Y/n,” you hear again, you flip the phone that was tossed on the bed over. Lewis’ name on screen, 12 minutes into the call. 

“Lewis, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you, I hope you don’t think I'm-” “Sweetheart, I’m coming over.” He cuts you off and you sit up, confused. 

“What ?” You ask him. You can hear the shuffling on his side. “You can’t think I would listen to all of that and not fuck you afterwards.” Lewis tells you, walking down the hallway to your room. 

Before you could protest, there’s a knock on your door.

“Open the door,” he tells you over the phone, waiting for you to come and do it. 

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #I strayed from the ask a little sorry!

[lxndonorris]

all dressed up - Pierre gasly x Charles Leclerc

Pierre Gasly x Charles Leclerc Theme: smutish, teasing, touching, swearing (not too explicit) Pierre dresses up for Charles during winter testing to tease him a little, while Charles gets really into it x word count: 910+

Winter testing in Barcelona, all of the teams are doing their best to check the performances of their cars, their drivers, and the overall new setting. Pierre is still in his hotel room, getting ready to leave for the paddock. Today, it’s his turn to test the new AlphaTauri later throughout the day, while Yuki is just ending his segment. He stands in front of the mirror, just putting on the new leather jacket that he got just for this occasion, and once his arms slide into it, he smirks at himself. 

“That’s for you.” He growls, thinking about his boyfriend Charles, who’s just ending his section of testing as well. It sucks not to do this together, but at least, he can have some fun teasing him, looking even better than usual with his hair nicely done, obviously the tight leather jacket combined with a white shirt, slim fit jeans, and a pair of black shoes. Pierre runs a hand through his hair, his scruffy beard before he puts on his favorite cologne, and of course, it will drive Charles insane.

He puts on a pair of sunglasses and leaves. Just after a few minutes, he enters the track through the main building as his phone starts ringing inside his pocket. Pulling it out while waiting for the check-in, he notices a message from Charles, telling him that he’ll be waiting for him inside the changing room. Smirking again, he puts the phone back and heads inside. Smelling fabulous, he greets a few other drivers, staff, and media people, before he stops in front of the door. Taking a deep breath, he enters the room. 

At first, he can’t see anyone, until he spots Charles, still wearing his racing suit and fireproofs, with the sleeves of the red suit hanging down at his tiny waist. Before he can say anything, however, Charles turns around, one eyebrow raised, but as soon as he realizes who’s standing in front of him, his eyes start glowing intensely, his mouth ajar, and a few drops of sweat running down his cheek. “Pear?” He groans silently, which causes Pierre to smirk mischievously. “Hey, babé,” Pierre says, his voice breaking slightly when he takes a few steps closer towards his boyfriend. “How was training?” He says, one hand running along Charles’ waist, pulling him into a soft, loving kiss. 

“Mhmm. Very good.” He growls, looking right into his man’s eyes. “But this?” Charles separates himself from Pierre, looking down at his body, licking his lips in anticipation. “That’s perfect, pear.” Pierre does the same, placing one hand at his chest, letting it slowly run down his body, feeling his tensed muscles, nipples and pecs through the tight, red fireproofs. “It’s for you, just for you.” He says quietly, and their eyes meet once more as Charles lays a hand at his boyfriend's cheek, tracing Pierre’S jawline with one finger, through the scruffy beard until he reaches his lips, gently touching him with his thumb.

“I love it. I love you.” Charles says, his accent a little rougher than usual, a sign that he’s really turned on right now. “I love you too.” Pierre smiles, kissing him again, and again, but then, Charles takes the lead, turning Pierre around, tenderly pressing him against the lockers behind them. “Charles, what are you doing?” He giggles, as Charles stares at him, his burning gaze sending shivers down his spine. “I want you, I need you.” He growls, kissing him softly while biting his lower lip. 

“Is that so?” Pierre frowns, raising an eyebrow. “Right here?” He smirks, causing Charles to do the same. “Yeah, right here.” He growls and wastes no time. Carefully, he starts kissing Pierre, again and again, while he puts a hand at his chest, stroking him all over his body, his pecs, nipples, down his stomach just stopping at his treasure trail. Pierre’s breathing gets heavier, his body tenses rigidly and he leans his head back against the cold lockers, letting out a long, soft moan. “Fuck, Charles. This feels so goood.” He breathes deeply, and grabs Charles's waist, securely holding him in place. 

“Then wait till I’m done here,” Charles smirks, his hand now slipping underneath his shirt, letting his fingers run across Pierre’s soft skin, feeling his muscle tensing instantly. “Mhmm.” Pierre moans, wrapping his arms now around Charles’ back, as he starts placing kisses all over his neck, and everywhere his lips touch his skin, it burns, burns intensely. “You smell so good.” Charles takes a deep breath, letting his man’s scent intoxicate his mind, and all of him reacts in an instant. “I knew you’d like it.” Pierre groans, while Charles grinds on his body. Now, he goes even further, removing his hand from underneath his shirt, to grab PierreÄs crotch firmly, rubbing his dick with the palm of his hands. 

“Fuck.” Pierre moans deeply, and leans into his boyfriend, kissing his neck now, before breathing into his ear. “Save it for tonight, I really need to change.” He giggles, his voice husky and rough. “But I need it, now,” Charles demands, placing a hand at his neck, looking back into his eyes. “Me too, but, I really, really need to go.” Charles regains his composure, as Pierre kisses him onto his lips one last time. “Fine, I will wait for you.” He says and caresses his cheek. They cuddle for a little while longer, and chat, as Pierre gets ready for his segment. 

#Charles leclerc #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc smut #Charles leclerc one shot #Charles leclerc blurb #Charles leclerc fanfic #Charles leclerc fanfiction #Pierre gasly #Pierre gasly imagine #Pierre gasly smut #Pierre gasly one shot #Pierre gasly fanfic #Pierre gasly fanfiction #Piarles

[ampintherain]

I’m Yours:

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Chapter VI

Y/N is Kenny Ortega’s ‘niece’ after going through a rough breakup, Kenny decides to fly her over to stay with him, will her broken heart mend?

(Female Reader, NO SMUT, Romance, Friendship, THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FANFIC/IMAGINE, I hope it’s good, Kenny is lifelong family friend so reader calls him Uncle Kenny. I’m British so the writing is going to be British so like ‘mum’ not ‘mom’ yanno?)

Warnings: swearing mostly

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“I don’t need to” he said, causing my heart to flutter, the things this boy does to me. 

Y/N

“Hey! you!” I heard the voice of a Canadian from behind me, I turned around and saw the smiling face of Charlie coming towards me, his torso lowered as he ran towards me with his arms open, I raised my eyebrow at his antics before I was lifted in the air and spinning around, I squealed at the sudden change and lightly tapped Charlie’s shoulder to put me down,

“Let go of me you weirdo” I laughed before Charlie let my feet hit the ground, he stared down at me with a cheesy grin plastered on his face, I rolled my eyes playfully and pushed Charlie towards the trailer, “you, Charles, have to get ready. Busy day today” I smiled, just as I opened up the door to costumes and pushing Charlie lightly,

“Okay beautiful, okay” he said, laughing at me as he closed the door behind him, I blushed at his kind words and turned around to see Madison and Jadah smiling at me,

“Girl, he totally likes you” Jadah stated just as I came up to them, I scoffed playfully and laughed at the statement, “he does! Everyone can see it but you” Madison nodded in agreement, pulling my arm and linking hers with mine, Jadah doing the same.

“He’s always around you Y/n, he always needs you nearby” Madison smiled, “it’s cute, it’s like he always wants to check up on you” she continued to tease, I rolled my eyes at the girl,

“You’re so funny” I drawled out sarcastically, walking with the girls to set, as we walked the girls continued to list the things that ‘obviously show’ that Charlie is ‘in love’ with me,

“He steals glances at you every single chance he gets. He is with you every single time we’re on a break” Jadah started, Madison nodding in agreement, I groaned, the list also contained this:

-I am the first person he goes to every single morning before shooting.

-He watches my Instagram and Snapchat stories repeatedly

-He has my post notifications on

-Madi and Jadah hear Owen and Jeremy tease him about me every day

-Charlie always fixes his hair and clothes every time I’m nearby

-He calls me and only me, beautiful, gorgeous, lovie.

“And and AND! Miss L/n, did you know that every time we’re in a scene and Kenny yells cut, the first thing Charlie does it come up to us and asks if you thought he looked good in the scene, or if you were impressed with his acting or if you thought-“

“Okay okay!” I sighed, cutting Madi off, “oh look, there’s Sav, I’m gonna go. See you guys later” I unlinked my arms with the two girls and ran over to Sav, calling her name,

“Oh hey sweetie” Sav smiled as she wrapped her arms around me, “oh look, there’s lover boy” she whispered in my ear before turning me around by my shoulders, I smiled as Charlie wandered over to us dressed as Luke,

“Ew what do you want Stink” I joked, as Charlie wandered over to us dressed as Luke, smiling,

“You” he answered simply, causing my heart to do a flip, I can’t seriously be falling for a guy this soon, really? I thought to myself, it’s not possible. I shouldn’t. Charlie quickly eased my thoughts as he engulfed me in a tight hug, “I want you” he whispered just within ear shot, “to stop calling me Stink” he pushed me away before running off to set towards Madi, Jeremy and Owen.

I watched as everyone started the scene, and since the girls had mentioned their list, that was all I could really think about. It was like my senses had heightened and I noticed everything that Charlie did. He really did steal glances at me, he really did adjust himself whenever he thought I was looking.

“Right guys, cut. 2 minute break, I’m just gonna check on the scene and see if there’s any adjustments needed for the scene” Uncle Kenny announced, and that was when I saw Charlie pull Jeremy and Owen to the side, they huddled together, I tilted my head to the side and saw Charlie look back over to me, I scrunched my nose at him playfully before beckoning him over, Charlie suddenly went wide eyed and ran his hands over his jeans, he bounced on his feet slightly before heading over to me,

“Uh hey, wassup?” Charlie asked, almost nervously, I smiled up at him and took a hold of his hand, his nerves eased slightly,

“Hey, you were really good” I assured, tugging lightly on his hand and smiling up at him, “you’re little grumpy face is so cute” I complimented honestly. I watched as the nerves washed away and Charlie beamed down at me, my hand still in his as I felt his thumb run lightly over mine.

“Really?” He questioned, I nodded enthusiastically and continued to smile at the sweet boy in front of me, he bounced on his feet and swung our hands slightly, “Thanks Lovie” he smiled,

“You’re most welcome” I replied, he booped me on the nose, causing me to scrunch my nose slightly,

“You’re cute” he tilted his head to the side, staring down at me with his gorgeous eyes, I could feel a blush slowly creep up on to my cheeks, I averted my gaze,

“You’re so silly” I laugh at him, trying to cover up the effect his words had on me, he smirks down at me and turns to look at the set behind him,

“I should get back, are you still gonna be here when I’m done?” He questioned, I looked at Charlie with an ‘are you serious’ look,

“Seriously Charles? Of course I am, I have to wait for Uncle Kenny” I laughed, he slowly nodded, mumbling ‘right’ repeatedly before chuckling and letting go of my hand and running over to the set.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“Hey” I heard a voice speak from above me, I looked up to see Marcus, one of the cast assistants smiling at me, “can I join you?” He questioned, pointing towards the seat in front of me,

“Oh sure Marcus, of course” I smiled slightly before looking back over to the set, watching my friends do what they did best, I glanced back over to Marcus to see him staring at me whilst drinking from his water bottle, “you okay?” I questioned cautiously, becoming slightly concerned at his prolonged eye contact,

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just admiring your beauty” he winked at me, Marcus was around my age so it wasn’t weird, and it wasn’t like he was unattractive, in fact, he was the exact opposite. He had these piercing green eyes, floppy chocolate brown hair styled down the middle like Leo Dicaprio in Titanic, his nails were painted black, his face was dotted with freckles and he had a small nose ring... however, it still made me feel uncomfortable and I couldn’t really explain why.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

Charlie

I glanced over to check up on Y/n, like I do every single day, I couldn’t stand not being near her, I hadn’t even known her that long and it was like she consumed every thought.

“Who’s that?” I questioned, tapping Jeremy on the shoulder lightly, pointing slightly over to Y/n sat facing some guy, they were chatting and I could tell that Y/n wasn’t feeling too comfortable by the way her laugh wasn’t as joyful as it usually is, and how she was shuffling in her seat.

“Oh, that’s Marcus, he’s Tori and Sacha’s cast assistant” Jeremy explained, “he’s like 21” he continued, I nodded and overheard Kenny call for a 30 minute break, that was enough for me to put on the blinkers and make my way over to Y/n.

I wrapped my arms around her from behind, my arms draping over her shoulders as I rested my chin lightly on the top of her head, I felt Y/n jump slightly as the sudden contact of my arms on her, she tensed slightly before I watched her glance down at the bracelets donning my wrists, her body lost all its tension and she traced her soft fingers over my exposed skin on my arms “Hey Lovie, we’re on a break for a half hour, wanna come grab lunch with me?” I asked, Y/n looked up at me and then over to Marcus,

“Uh yeah, you two go. Um it was nice talking to you” Marcus mumbled, getting up from his seat “I needed to get back to work anyway” he laughed shortly before heading over to Sacha’s trailer, Y/n stood up and smiled at me,

“Thank you... I was feeling kinda awkward” she giggled slightly, I tilted my head slightly as a signal for her to explain, I knew it was something more than what she was letting on, “my ex, he um dressed and looked similar to Marcus, kinda made me feel weird” she explained simply, I tugged her arm lightly and brought her into my arms, rubbing my hand up and down her back, I could feel her body shake slightly as small and quiet sobs left her body,

“Hey, hey” I whispered quietly, resting my chin atop her head once again, “he isn’t worth these tears beautiful girl, you deserve so much more” I soothed, Y/n sniffled slightly before removing her head from my chest, she wiped away her tears and looked up at me, her eyes glassy, she smiled weakly and nodded,

“I’m not even crying over him... it’s just, I don’t know...” she sighed in defeat, I waited for a few seconds before Y/n continued, “I just feel like maybe I don’t deserve to be loved, I was with him for so long and for half of it, he was with somebody else...” Y/n mumbled, fiddling with her t-shirt nervously,

“You” I began, taking her hands in mine to stop her fiddling, “my Lovie, you are more than deserving. You deserve the world and more, he just is too blind and stupid to see how amazing you are, you’re beautiful Y/n, so beautiful” I cupped her face in my hands as she looked down,

“But Quinn is everything I want to be, she’s so so beautiful, I don’t know why I thought Zac would just want me, always, y’know? Especially considering Quinn was always around... I was so stupid” Y/n sighs in defeat, I watched as she went to speak again, about to tell me more self-deprecating words but before she could I cut her off.

“Nope, don’t say anything else misses, I don’t want to hear you put yourself down anymore okay?” I stated as I took her hand and began to walk with her to catering, I walked slowly just in case, I didn’t want anyone in catering to hear this sensitive conversation with Y/n “Look Y/n, you’re incredible, I’ve never met this Quinn but I can guarantee you that your beauty goes above and beyond what Quinn has. Not only physically but your personality is the most beautiful thing. Zac was stupid to let you go but he’s done the rest of the world a favour because now us single guys have a chance at having you.” Y/n blushed slightly at my words before laughing and shaking her head,

“That’s not true” she stated, dropping her head, she continued to walk as I stopped in place, I pulled her back lightly, “it’s not Charlie...” she continued

“It’s one of the truest things I’ve ever said, look Y/n, you’re perfect, absolutely perfect, I have never met anyone as beautiful as you and I doubt that I ever would. Zac truly is the biggest doofus” Y/n giggled at my use of words, “he is! He’s an idiot for letting you go Angel, he truly has done the single guys a favour because we are always searching for a girl like you. A girl with a kind smile, joyful laugh, twinkling eyes. You are everything that anyone would want” Y/n looked up at me through her eyelashes as a tear slipped out, I quickly caught it with my thumb, wiping it away.

“Really?” Her voice cracked, half smiling up at me, “you really mean that?” I nodded happily,

“I really really mean that” I assured, “come on now Lovie, let’s go get some food” I changed the subject quickly in order to make Y/n feel a bit lighter in mood, I bent down and tapped my back,

“What are you doing?” She laughed.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

Y/N

“Get on” Charlie whined, I rolled my eyes and jumped on Charlie’s back, he adjusted my comfortably before walking further towards catering,

“So what’re we having this time?” I questioned, Charlie shrugged, “how about waffles with peanut butter, bananas and maple syrup?”

“Oh definitely! That sounds like the best, I’m gonna have some pringles with mine though” Charlie said as he placed me back down on the floor, we walked together through the catering hall before grabbing our food,

“Your obsession with putting pringles on things is disgusting” I joked, rolling my eyes. We both sat down at a table with Owen, Jeremy, Madison and Savannah. Jadah was still grabbing food with Sacha and Tori.

“Look at this Charlie, look, Y/n knows how far to go- this waffle looks amazing” Owen said, pointing down at my waffle, “I bet you it will taste great” I nodded and offered Owen a bite, he accepted happily and nodded approvingly, “see? Yep. Amazing... but this! This travesty in front of you. Too far” I laugh at Owen’s dramatics and continued to eat my waffle,

“Don’t knock it unless you try it O, this is amazing” Charlie said as he squashed the Pringles in his waffle and took a bite, i scrunched my face in disgust as Charlie munched happily.

“Nope... I’m with Owen on this one. It’s gross” I said,

“Charlie, you’re nasty” Madi joked, causing the table to laugh, “you need to be checked” she continued, Charlie rolled his eyes and continued to eat his concoction happily.

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“Hey Y/n/n” I heard Charlie call at the end of the day as I was walking towards my Uncle Kenny, I stopped in my tracks and turned around, smiling up at the bouncing boy,

“Hey Bub” I smiled, the new nickname causing Charlie to blush slightly and smile at me, “what’s up?” I questioned, Charlie began to shuffle on his feet nervously, “hey... Charlie... talk to me” I assured soothingly, Charlie took a deep breath and nodded

“Okay, so” he began, looking everywhere but me, “Iwaswonderingifmaybeyoupossiblywantedtogoutwithmetonightmaybe” Charlie said quickly, so quickly that I couldn’t pick up what he was trying to say,

“Huh?” I asked, tilting my head, “I didn’t catch a word of that Charlie” Charlie took another deep breath and finally brought his gaze to me, keeping eye contact, I watched as his pupils dilated causing me to tilt my head in confusion,

“Okay okay... right” Charlie mumbled, still looking at me, “I was wondering” he began as he fiddled with his fingers, I reached over and took a hold of his hand smiling, his nerves quickly dispersed as his eyes searched my face, “I was wondering if maybe... you would wanted to go out with me tonight...? It’s fine if you don’t want to, I get it like you’ve just gotten out of a relationship and you’re still hurting, I get it but” Charlie rambled, I giggled at his adorable state and shook my head,

“Charlie, I would love to go out with you tonight” I smiled, Charlie looked up at me and scrunched his eyebrows together,

“Really?” He asked, “you really want to?” I nodded and swung our hands together,

“I really really want to” I went up on to my toes and planted a light kiss to Charlie’s cheek,

“O-okay, right. I’ll pick you up at 8?” He questioned, I suddenly was glad that today was a half day shoot, it gave me enough time to prepare and possibly go shopping to get a new outfit,

“8 sounds perfect” I smiled, Charlie nodded and jumped lightly on his feet before pulling me in for a hug, leaving a light kiss on top of my head and suddenly running off to his trailer, waving goodbye to me.

“I told you he liked you!” Madi yelled from behind me, I span on my heels and half smiled at Savannah, Jadah and Madison all huddled together smiling widely at me,

“Okay okay” I gave in, “you three are geniuses, but can you please help me out? I have no idea what to wear...”

“Oh my god, shopping?” Savannah questioned, Tori came up from behind me, wrapping an arm over my shoulders,

“Hey girl,” Tori smiled, “I heard shopping” she joked, “what’s the occasion?”

“Well our lovely Y/n has got herself a date...” Jadah trailed off before rushing over to me along with Sav and Madi, they all cuddled me in and squealed with excitement,

“Wait wait... with who?” Tori questioned excitedly, “is he cute? Do we know him?” She continued, we all pulled away from our hug just as Charlie walked past with Owen and Jeremy, he glanced over at the small huddle of girls and smiled at me, my lips pursed in pursuit of trying to hide my smile as I glanced down at the floor, “no way! I knew it!” Tori whisper-yelled.

“Okay I get it, you all told me so” I laugh, “now can you please help me!” I begged, tugging on Tori’s arm, the girls laughed and nodded, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Kenny telling him the situation and he quickly replied saying it was all okay and that he was going out for the evening with Mr Reyes anyway.

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“Okay so we’ve settled on this dress right? Have you got anything to wear with it?” Savannah questioned as she held up a burnt orange dress, I nodded,

“I just don’t have any shoes” I admitted, the four girls in front of me nodded, Madi took a sip from her smoothie before pointing over to a shop,

“Why don’t we try over there?” She asked once she had taken a sip of her drink,

“Yeah why not, let’s go” Jadah agreed, I quickly ran over to the counter with the dress for the date alongside some other clothes that I just wanted to buy because sometimes I just couldn’t help myself before going back over to the girls, Jadah took me by my hand and walking with me and the rest of the girls to the shop Madi had suggested. We looked throughout the shop, each girl picking up shoes and showing them to me for my approval.

By the end of the 3 hour shopping trip, each girl had bags upon bags of clothes, accessories, shoes and anything else that they wanted to buy, me included. “Well I’d say that was successful” Savannah commented, causing us all to erupt in short laughter, “it was fun having a girls day! We need to do it again” she continued,

“Oh for sure, this whole thing was very therapeutic” Tori agreed we continued to walk further towards a the parking lot before we all went our separate ways, Mr Reyes was picking up Jadah and Madison, Tori was driving Savannah back home and Uncle Kenny was picking me up.

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Charlie

“Owen! I haven’t even planned out this date properly, it kinda happened in the spur of the moment. Where do I take her?” I ranted as I paced through the living room,

“Charlie... I don’t think that Y/n is going to be the kind of girl that really cares about where you take her, I also think she’s the kinda girl who would want a date that isn’t classed as ‘basic’ you get what I mean?” Owen said in an attempt to calm me down,

“Okay okay... so what do I do? I’ll pick her up at 8 and then I could take her to a small diner in Vancouver and then we could go to a viewing point maybe? Dude I don’t know” I stressed, tugging at my hair,

“Charlie... that’s the best idea, that will work perfectly okay? Do that, I’m sure she’ll love it” Owen said, I nodded and huffed, still stressed out. “You really like her don’t you?” He questioned, I sighed and sat down next to my best friend,

“Yeah man... She’s had me since day one, I’ve been hooked. She’s just beautiful, she’s so perfect. She’s kind and caring and funny... I just want to show her what it’s like to be truly loved because Zac, her ex, treated her like shit” I explained, looking over at the clock on the wall,

“You better start getting ready dude” Owen spoke my inner thoughts as he patted my back and pushed me upwards off the couch, I nodded and walked over to my bathroom to start getting ready.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

Y/N

“You nervous Star?” Kenny asked as we entered the apartment,

“Can you tell?” I questioned back, he nodded slightly, “It’s been so long since I’ve been asked on a date, I hardly ever went on dates with Zac. I think in the entirety of our relationship, we went on like 7 dates” I explained, Kenny took me into his side and patted my head lightly,

“Well I know my Charlie, he’s going to give you the best date of your life okay? No need to be nervous, just think of it as two friends going out, everything will be fine okay?” Kenny assured and he swayed with me. I nodded and rested my head against his chest, “you, kiddo, need to start getting ready” he said as he lightly patted my upper arm, I nodded and carried my bags into my bedroom.

Once I got into my bedroom, I tipped up each bag and watched the contents fall onto the bed lightly, I rummaged through the pile of clothes and shoes before pulling out the burnt orange dress and some small heeled black boots. I placed those items further up my bed before putting everything else in it’s rightful place. As soon as I had finished putting everything away I pulled out my black turtle neck top and my black socks that went up to just below my knee, I placed those items on my bed alongside the dress and boots.

I quickly hopped into the shower, washing my hair and body and shaving over any growing hairs, I stayed in the shower for around 20 minutes longer than I should’ve due to listening to my music and performing a non-existent concert. I jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body and rubbed my hair dry before brushing my teeth and putting on a face mask, I dried my hair with a hair dryer before curling it lightly, letting my hair flow freely once I had finished. I peeled off my face mask and wiped away any residue before applying some natural looking makeup and swiping some nude coloured lip stick across my lips, I set my makeup with some setting spray and placed some curling moose in my hair and hair sprayed it to keep the curls.

I applied some moisturiser to my body before spraying some deodorant and my favourite perfume, I stepped out of the shower and promptly got dressed, I searched for my black crossbody bag that was hidden somewhere in my wardrobe just as my phone chimed, I wandered over to my desk and picked up my phone to see the message from Charlie

>my favourite Canadian🇨🇦- Hey, I’m outside. No need to rush though okay? Come down when you’re ready Lovie ❤️

I smiled down at the text, although it was a small gesture but it was the first time he had sent me a heart and I couldn’t help but feel my heart race.

<I’ll be down in a second, just grabbing my bag ❤️

I rushed into my wardrobe and pulled out my bag before checking myself over in the mirror, Hm, I like it. I thought to myself as I twisted my body to look at the side and back of my outfit.

I rushed out of my bedroom, stuffing my keys, purse and phone in my bag, “you look beautiful Star” Uncle Kenny smiled at me,

“Thanks Uncle Kenny, I gotta go though, Charlie’s waiting for me” I said breathlessly due to the nerves kicking in again,

“Okay Munchkin, you have no need to worry or be nervous okay? Besides nerves are a good sign, it means you like him” Kenny said as he cuddled me in,

“I do like him, I really like him... I shouldn’t though should I? I mean Zac and I broke up not that long ago and I” Kenny promptly cut me off,

“You texted me 3 weeks before the break up with Zac saying that you were feeling off about the relationship, you convinced yourself it was a blip but you knew that you two were heading south. I see the way you look at Charlie and how he looks at you... and how you two look at each other. You liking him is not a bad thing okay? You can’t help what your heart feels so, you go and have fun. You got your keys?” Kenny asked, I nodded and pointed towards my bag, Uncle Kenny ushered me towards the door and waved me off as I rushed down the hall to the elevator.

“Hey” Charlie said as I left the main building, see Charlie stood outside of his car holding a sunflower, “you look beautiful... sunflowers are your favourite right?” Charlie questioned as he handed me the flower,

“Yes they are... and thank you, you look very handsome” I complimented, Charlie was wearing some brown boots, dark blue jeans with a plain white tee and brown courdory jacket. I twiddled the sunflower in my fingers, Charlie opened the passenger door for me and closed it after I had sat inside.

“You okay?” Charlie asked as he drove down the street,

“Uh yeah, just not really used to dates, I haven’t been on many” I admitted, Charlie’s jaw instagntly dropped,

“Wait... you serious?” He questioned “Zac’s such a loser man, if I was him, I’d be taking you out on dates every week” I smiled over at Charlie, “I’m serious”

“I know you are” I replied, “so where are we going?” I questioned, scrunching my nose, Charlie placed a single finger up to his lips, “it’s a secret is it?” Charlie laughed,

“Yes it is Lovie.” Charlie turned the music up and continued to drive for another 10 minutes until he pulled up into a parking lot. “We’re here” he said as he put the car into park, I unbuckled and went to open the door, “ah ah ah, what’re you doing?” He questioned,

“Opening the door...” I said obviously, Charlie tutted at me before ordering me to stay still as he hopped out of the car and opened my door for me, “oh you’re such a gentleman” I joked as I slipped out of my seat, Charlie took my hand in his instantly and intertwined our fingers- yeah Charlie and I had held hands before but never interlocked, this was another small detail that caused my heart rate to race. Charlie closed the door behind me with his spare hand as he moved our interlocked hands over my head so his arm was behind my neck, I readjusted my hand so it held his comfortably as we walked towards a cute diner that had a 50s style to it.

Charlie opened the diner door for me and walked us over to a spare booth, I slipped into the comfortable seat across from him, “this place is so cute” I smiled, looking around at the pink and dark mint green colours of the diner, I reached over and grabbed a menu and looked back up at Charlie, “what?” I questioned as I saw him staring at me,

“You’re just so beautiful” he sighed happily before he reached and took a hold of my hand again using his other to grab a menu and look through to figure out what he wanted.

“What can I get for you?” A waitress asked tapping her pad with her pencil lightly,

“Can I have the Neopolitan shake and the cheeseburger and fries please” I asked, the lady nodded and wrote down my order,

“And can I have the same but with a lemonade?” Charlie said, the waitress nodded and smiled at us before walking off and giving our orders to the chef. I looked over at Charlie as he ran his thumb over my knuckles before lifting my hand up and placing a kiss to my knuckles.

Our food came quite quickly and Charlie and I ate just as quickly, talking slightly in between. Uncle Kenny was right, it was like two friends just hanging out, however Charlie consistently added cute little moments, whether it was taking my hand in his or leaving a few kisses on each of my knuckles or dropping in compliments every now and then. Soon after we had finished, the waitress had come with the bill, “what’re you doing?” Charlie questioned as I reached into my purse,

“I’m paying for my half...” I said, Charlie shook his head and snatched my purse from my hands, “Charles!” I stated, reaching across in an attempt to get my purse back,

“Nope. No. I’m paying. I asked you out on this date, so I’m paying, the next date you can pay” Charlie said as he sent me a wink, I huffed and sat back in my seat, watching Charlie pay for our meal. “Now come on, the dates not over yet Angel” he smiled as he handed my purse back, I tilted my head in shock and slid out of the booth, Charlie tucked me into his side and we thanked our server before leaving the diner and getting back into the car.

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Charlie

I pulled up and parked my car at the viewing point before clambering out and walking over to Y/n’s side, I shook my hands in an attempt to calm my nerves “it’s okay Charlie, it’s been going well so far” I whispered to myself “everything’s fine” I continued before I opened the passenger door, I took ahold of Y/n’s hand and closed the door behind her, I brought us to the front of my car and sat on the hood, tapping the spot next to me for Y/n to sit.

“Wow” she said as she saw the lights of the city, “this is so beautiful” the girl next to me snuggled into my side voluntarily and I slowly wrapped my arm around her shoulders bringing her in closer, playing with the curled ends on her hair and that was how we stayed, sat in comfortable silence, her soft hair falling over my fingers as I twirled the curls, Y/n’s hand placed softly on my chest drawing faint pictures.

“Hey” I said quietly after 15 minutes of the comfortable silence, “are you cold?” I questioned as I felt the girl shiver in my arms,

“No no, I’m fine” she smiled and waved me off, I shrugged my jacket off regardless as I knew she was lying, I draped the jacket over her shoulders and watched as she slid her arms through the holes, wrapping the jacket around her torso tightly,

“You look good in my jacket” I said, playing with the collar before pulling her hair out of the back of the jacket that it was tucked within, Y/n blushed and lowered her head, her gaze focusing on the sleeves of my jacket, I tilted my head, this is is Charlie... I thought to myself, I sucked in a deep breath before slowly breathing out to try and calm my nerves, I lifted my hand and tilted her head up to look at me, I watched as her pupils dilated once they had focused on my face and smiled at her, “okay... I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks...” I trailed off causing the beautiful girl in front of me to become confused, her eyebrows knitting together slightly and she bit the inside of her cheek, twisting her mouth to the side.

“Do what?” She questioned, I didn’t reply, instead I cupped her face lightly in my hands and brought my face closer to hers, I felt Y/n close the gap as my eyes fluttered shut, I leant in closer and before I knew it my lips were on hers, they were softer than I ever imagined and they tasted a bit like the shake she had earlier, our lips moved in perfect harmony but before I knew it, we were both pulling away.

“Sorry... was that” I said before I was cut off by Y/n’s lips back on mine for a short but sweet kiss.

“It was perfect” she smiled, I nodded and pulled her in for one more kiss, quickly becoming addicted to the feeling it gave me.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 💜

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#Spotify #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagines #luke patterson imagine #charliegillespie #jatp cast #luke patterson #jatpweek #julie and the phantoms #julieandthephantoms #luke julie and the phantoms imagine #fanfic #julie molina #jatp reggie #jatp fandom #fantoms #fandom #my story #romance #newauthor #chapter six #julie and the fat ones #sunset curve #julie and the fantoms #jatp #jatp alex #owen joyner #jeremy shada #madison reyes #savannah lee may

[anayaahwrites]

KOT Ficlet #5 (Momoya Natsu/ Yoshinaga Atsumu)

When the lights start flashing like a photo booth (And the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof.)

Warning: Themes of underage drinking and implied sexual content.

Natsu roughly based on this art by @sasukeslove

A small AU on MomoYoshi's first meeting:

...

Natsu is six when he learns about Angels.

He’s perched on mama’s lap, carrying a new storybook with tiny hands and slowly pronouncing all the words. Her proud smile encourages him to read the larger words too, the ones he’d avoid out of embarrassment—something about a pro-fe-cky and a pro-mice that He exists up there somewhere, over the pillowy clouds watching down on them.

Mama tucks him in that night and tells Natsu to close his eyes and pray because Angels only come to good boys.

He’s ten when it all sounds like bullshit to him.

Over the years, Mom’s rosy smile had withered into a fatigued sigh, a cry for help to the God that never answers no matter how much they pray. Dad was more a guest than a resident. He came around once in a while to eat lunch—with a taut smile plastered eerily over his smooth features—and swiftly vanish to not return in that week .

They’ve stopped waiting for him and Natsu stops asking questions.

He’s thirteen when he meets Sei, a child around his age, except so much more charming and calm and composed for someone that carried half the same set of genes Natsu had. He learns of his father’s betrayal and is honestly shocked at his own lack of surprise. Still, he questions his God and why why why would He let mom’s heart shatter like that?

Sei is quick to laugh and tell him that God doesn’t exist and mom is just a victim to their monster of a father.

So he goes home that day to his outraged mother, hair coloured like glittery Christmas tinsel and sapphire lenses replacing his usual shade of honey brown. She snaps at the sight, yelling at him till her throat closes up, till nothing but a harsh sob escapes her and he lets her. They both had to cope somehow.

By the fall of his fourteenth year, he gets pierced four times and stops talking to his mother almost completely.

To hell with dad. To hell with God.

Natsu is fifteen, and he doesn’t care about anything anymore.

He’s fifteen and quickly realising from his daily job as a guitarist in the club that girls aren't attractive no matter how much they flock around him. He still humours them sometimes, a touch here, a kiss there since the pay is good enough for him to add some extra service on his part.

Mom plies herself with work as often as possible, to douse her misery in the decayed scent of piled papers and clunking keyboards. She leaves Natsu to deal with everything else on his own like the obedient son he is, letting him go like dad left her.

Natsu is alright, though. He’s done this far longer than she knows.

He stops reaching out to her, stops talking to someone up in the skies, settling instead to live a tranquil life in the shadows, under the dependable shade of music. He hates people. He hates the world.

Natsu is basking in the warmth of another uneventful day in the club, when in walks a boy out of fucking nowhere and his entire world tips on its axis.

The boy takes shaky, wary steps as if he were balancing on a trapeze. Dark black bangs like thick black rain spill over the side of his face, half covering wide brown eyes. Splotches of pink and porcelain white stick out where his sweater ends and skin begins. He’s small and delicate and beautiful, Natsu’s heart skips a beat. Or two. Or maybe three.

And why should he lie? Natsu has seen beautiful, quite a few varieties of it too. But this…this was different. This was unreal.

The boy looks around nervously before he catches something and there’s a spark in those hazel eyes, sharp and electric, a smile tugging at his lips.

Natsu follows his gaze. On the stage lies his own guitar—a pre-performance habit for people to know he was next. He took great pride because this itself garnered more clusters than anyone in the entire house.

Natsu smiles. So he was a fan.

He downs the customary shot of vodka, waving at the people before hopping on stage and wrapping the sling around his neck. He scours the audience for a familiar face and it doesn’t take a lot, to spot a splatter of ink black in the crowd, batting eager eyelids at him. The smaller boy realises the attention on him and glances behind to confirm his suspicion.

By the time he swings around, eyes blown wide in a stare, Natsu plays the first chord.

In an instant, his expression shifts to a mix of awe and interest, a silent worship and a loud cheer compiled in one small, thin body. He claps more than anyone else in the room, beaming like a floodlight by the time Natsu finishes.

It was nothing strange. He played among cheers every day but none felt as satisfying with this voice hooting and clearly standing out from his regular gang of squealing girls. He throws his head back laughing back stage when no one is there to see.

By the time Natsu gets out on the floor again, a little more thrilled for the night and dressed in something less flashy, he’s gone. He screws his lips in displeasure and asks his friend to make him something stronger than the usual.

This happens more nights than not, and it was frustrating him.

The moment Angel boy—as he’s dubbed him, steps in through the door, Natsu traces his every move and quickly registers a pattern. He only comes around on days the club was the busiest—specifically during Natsu’s performance, talks to no one and leaves before he has the chance to even ask a name.

Not that Natsu was interested in him or anything. He was just curious, is all—why this boy looked like a starved pet every time he saw him on stage and if he really smelled like soft winter blankets and warm fireplaces, all angelic and pure.

Okay, so maybe he was a little interested.

Months pass like that.

The mid-November chill comes with its blistering snowstorms and the club is jam packed—winters were some of their busiest months—and Natsu’s up to perform. Instead of preparing, he watches the door resolutely from the bar, tapping impatiently at the table.

As routine, it barely opens a crack, and he sees a sliver of ebony snaking it’s way through the crowd. The boy stands on his tippy-toes which don’t give him much of a view, so he does these tiny jumps—that are so adorable, for a second Natsu forgets his own name—and scowls when he notices no guitar on stage.

He checks the time, the stage and then scans the crowd. The anticipation throbs through Natsu as he follows his eyes cross the room in slow motion, dragging dragging until they eventually land on him. Everything stills—the thundering music, the singing and all he can hear is the low thump of veins against his skin.

It’s over in a flash.

“That your Angel boy?” The bartender gestures at the figure turning tail and running, drying the pad on his prized work station. He skillfully pours two coloured liquids into an oddly shaped glass and passes it over the counter to him.

Natsu hums, swirling the absinthe stained drink in hand, eyeing the smaller boy gasp as a couple slams against the door, clearly piss drunk with her suspended over his thighs and gyrating her hips into the man.

“Hey, chief.”

“Hm?”

“You think I can get off early tonight?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Like when?”

“Like now.” Natsu answers, never letting his gaze falter from the head full of black hair slowly receding through the crowd, horrified.

The man guffaws, lifting a glass of water—since he can’t drink on duty—and clinking it with Natsu’s.

“Must be fuckin’ Christmas if you’re taking interest in anyone, so I’ll let this one pass. Don’t scare him off now. He already looks like a trembling lamb.”

Natsu knocks back the contents, swallowing the liquid till it numbs his entire mouth and smirks.

“I’ll try.”

So he follows the boy. Hands are immediately all over him from faces he recognises in passing—a girl he once kissed, someone that made him cake, but he pushes them off.

His boy of interest forces the hood of his shirt up all the way, and glances behind him once before increasing his pace. Maybe the lights are really getting to him and maybe Natsu is a little tipsy when he reaches out to grab his hand.

The boy flips around to lock eyes frantically, as if a ghost had seized him.

“Hey.” Natsu musters his sweetest smile.

“Hi..” The boy replies.

And oh, his voice. It’s sugary sweet and so so soft like—like actual rolls of smooth and silky cotton had woven them. He blushes fiercely under Natsu’s relentless gaze and stares where their hands were connected in a tight grip as if it burned holes through him.

Natsu frowns. “Don’t run.”

The boy’s gaze shoots up, and he’s pulling away.

“I-I’m sorry I really h-have to go—”

“It’s my birthday.” Goddamn, he must be really wasted to admit that. Now that he thinks about it, what did he just drink?

Twentieth November, the day he was born and incidentally also the day he found his father’s tongue down another woman’s throat, holding a child over his shoulder.

“Oh,” The boy stops, pursing his lips and letting the hood go all the way down before flashing easily one of the most ethereal smiles Natsu has ever seen.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he replies awkwardly. “It’s not going really well.”

“No?”

Natsu nods. “It’s nothing different.”

“You want it to be special?”

The buzz in his nerves practically screamed a yes to that—he wanted something to remember, to bury the horrible memories he associated with this day, for the days he wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted to fit it all in this one boy in one night, this angel he didn’t even know, to free him from himself.

Natsu tightens his grip. “Dance with me?”

Oh boy, the alcohol was talking.

Angel boy looks at Natsu with wide doe eyes, peers back at their hands and gulps. Natsu frowns and releases his hold. He was drunk, probably a little more than he’d admit to, but he didn’t want to pressurize anyone—not when this boy already looked so out of his element, a beige hoodie and skinny jeans in a club full of scantily clad folk.

But he reverses the roles, grabbing Natsu by the fingers so delicately, he releases a soft hum of satisfaction. He rubs fingers between his own, feeling the brush of calloused fingertips on them. It reminds him of mom’s soft chest rising and falling when she slept beside him because he was her ‘perfect little angel’ and made him feel safe.

He misses it. Misses being safe. Misses being loved.

“Okay,” the boy mumbles, peering from under his natural hood of hair with a light smile. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

Natsu doesn’t really know what he’s doing anymore. The lights blink and they’re suddenly in stop motion. It tricks his brain into thinking of them as pictures trapped some place in his brain forever. So he stares and stares and captures the blush spreading like wildfire across the boy’s face, a smile widening in tandem with the soft beats.

They’re two faces among a thousand on a random winter night. The music isn’t his type nor is his attire anything to be proud of. But this boy. Holy heavens, if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever then the stars should be ashamed because damn, he’d beat them even on a bad day.

His hair sways—a steady swing of left right left right and a pleasant smile sits snug on his features like that’s where they belonged, that’s where they had always belonged and Natsu closes his eyes when their hands meet again.

This is perfect.

It’s when the music stills that they transition to a slower lull of movement, and the blaze of liquor in his blood emboldens him into yanking the boy a little closer. He lets him fall with a small plop on his chest and laughs when he rubs his nose, scowling.

“Why do you never wait back?” He asks, exhaling at the warmth the boy’s presence brings. Natsu puts his hand around his waist and he swears, it was like he wasn’t human, like someone had sculpted him out of clay, moulded to near perfection. And maybe he’s treading into dangerous waters, but his mouth had a mind of its own and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.

“I always look for you after I’m done but you’re never here.”

Pair of hazelnut eyes sheepishly peer at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just.… not good at socializing.”

“So you say,” Natsu laughs, “But you’re doing better than me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“You have to be kidding me you’re so cool—and and so beautiful I really cannot—since the beginning I haven’t been able to take my eyes off—”

He squeaks when he's dragged closer by the small of his back. Their eyes meet. Natsu sees flashes of every happy moment of his life mirrored in them; His first recital, mom’s naturally loud laugh, the first time he played the guitar. They reach into Natsu’s soul and drag out his joy like the reel of a kite.

“I thought you were an angel,” he chuckles so close, he feels the boy shiver against his cheek. “I still do. Everyone here calls you Angel boy. Score a drink from them with that name sometime. I’m sure they’ll oblige you.”

“Angel? I—” He breathes a giggle, twisting silver strands with his fingers. “If there’s any angel here, it’s you.”

But this is fake, he wants to say. It’s fake, artificial, made of desperation because he never wants to look into the mirror and see his father’s face staring back at him. He won’t be him. He won’t.

“Atsumu,” he says. “My name is Atsumu.”

“Atsumu.” Natsu repeats in his head till it rolls naturally over his tongue. Like Atsu meaning heat and summer and everything bright and cheery.

Natsu purposefully lingers near his ear, to breathe his name in the air, smiling, content.

“ ‘Tsumu. It’s cute,” he hums. “You’re cute.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Definitely.” He chuckles.

Atsumu whispers, low and uneasy. “C-can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm.” At this point, his voice gave him a greater high than the drink he had downed fifteen minutes ago. Or was it an hour? He couldn’t really tell and decided very quickly he didn’t care, anyway.

“Why don’t you.. come to school?”

Natsu’s eyes open a crack to glimpse at the boy who trembles softly under him, as if he were admitting to a crime.

“I—” he continues in alarm, “I swear I’m not a stalker I just—Oh my god please don’t misunderstand me—”

“Calm down.” Natsu shushes, smiling apologetically at the few people around him that had been torn out of their aggressive make-out session as if they weren’t the ones that needed a room. God, if he sees another dick hanging out, he’ll have to bust out the chainsaw in the basement and go wild.

“So,” he leads them to a quieter corner with very few people and lesser eyes their way. “School,” he waves a hand dismissively, “It’s boring. Lots of people. Annoying questions. You know the drill.”

“Right,” he gulps. “Right so, I’m uhh—in your class I don’t think you noticed and I’m from an instrument club and someone asked us a question. Something about erotic sounds—wait that sounds bad—not erotic erotic but.…Ah, I’m bad at explaining.”

Natsu doesn’t keep back the dreamy giggle that leaves him, swaying lightly to the music. He’s exactly as he imagined—hell, even his name was spot on—all warm and giggly and fluttery.

“I’m still listening,” Natsu smiles. “Go on.”

Atsumu scrunches his nose and continues. “So one of my club seniors—he comes of a little rough but he’s really nice—went to one of my other seniors house who I think he really likes, and her mother told him it’s—I’m sorry am I too confusing?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Okay, so basically, her mother says it’s the pause in between his words and actions. The space that is just…there. And so I was writing about it—because I write everything—and Oka-kun saw my book.”

Natsu scowls. “Oka is annoying like that.”

The boy giggles this time. “Funny. He said you’d say that.”

“It’d be nice if he attempted to change it, then.”

“And so he told me you play music, where you work and that maybe you could do something good for once—I didn’t say that he did—So…” He moves his hand vaguely around them. “Here I am.”

Natsu hums against his head, bringing him to a slower pace as the song changes.

“I’ll have to thank him for that.”

“You’re not..angry?” He says through furrowed brows. “Oka-kun said you would be if you found out.”

He’s certain if Oka showed up here uninvited, Natsu would promptly kick him out. Because Oka is annoying. Atsumu however….

“So? Did you get your answer?” He asks instead.

The smaller boy makes a face, pulling all his features in to make his button nose stand out more than it already does and pout.

Natsu laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that today. Laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Don’t get me wrong! Your performances are splendid and I really can’t get enough of them but the answer…I still haven’t reached a conclusion.”

Natsu plays with the fingers in his hand, shuffling to let them sink into the gap between his. Atsumu stares and responds by shyly tucking his fingers in.

“Want me to help you?” He whispers, tapping the side of Atsumu’s waist with his other hand.

“Can you?” He whispers back.

Can he? Yes. Should he? Probably not.

But what use is logic anyway, when a boy the embodiment of a sunny summer day amid a bitter winter stood enclosed in his arms?

Yeah. To hell with logic.

Natsu sways his hips, raking his free hand through Atsumu’s hair. He releases a pleased sigh when the tiny fingers between his tighten as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, which was good. Natsu felt the same, like his sanity was slowly slipping through open fingers.

“Spaces…exist everywhere. In words, in voices, in time…” He draws their joined hands to his mouth, dragging wet lips over porcelain skin. Atsumu shudders, breathing in sharp, shallow exhales.

“These hands..there’s a space in between them too if you look carefully. We’re so close,” fingers tighten around his shirt. “But still never close enough.

He runs a palm down the boy’s face that angles and angles till plush, red lips are within kissing distance. They part and blow warm clouds of air that taste mint and chocolate in his mouth. Natsu smiles. “Space is where there is distance. Space is where there is intimacy. Space is where there is friction. And this exciting gap that keeps us wanting to be closer till not even an atom could squeeze in—” he leans in closer, “—is erotic.”

He backs away while he has the physical capacity to do so, before the alcohol overrides every decision in his head and they end up a tangled mess of limbs in some random hotel room, but Atsumu having none of it.

He pulls Natsu to himself, clutching the pleats of his shirt and tugging him down to his lips. Teeth knock loudly against each other and Natsu hisses lightly, parting to lick the tingle in the tip of his incisor away.

“S-sorry!” Atsumu covers his embarrassment behind shaky hands. Natsu wraps thin fingers under his chin, reeling him in slow and steady and closes the distance. It’s soft, like a snowflake on a tree, virgin snow settling on frozen water and ironically, melts him. It boils and freezes, ignites his soul into a firework of bursting flames. He’s touching, feeling, pulling until every inhale feels like fire in his lungs.

“Closer,” Atsumu murmurs, throwing nimble hands over his shoulder and locking their lips together like puzzle pieces on a gameboard. “Make the space go away.”

It’s chaotic, and it’s magical. Like every star in the galaxy twinkled around them tonight, like every blossoming flower settled wherever Atsumu touched him. He’s drunk on vodka, drunk on happiness, drunk on love.

Closer. Natsu pushes a knee in between his thighs. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head.

Closer. The hands in his air pull him in for another searing kiss, pressing for entry, to delve deeper, deeper into themselves. Atsumu nibbles lightly on his lip and Natsu lets him bruise him for tonight. To wreck him, destroy him.

Closer.

They settle for a slower casual rhythm when they part to breathe. He keeps them moving on the floor, smiling against a pair of swollen lips.

“School suddenly sounds much more interesting.” He says.

Atsumu squints incredulously. “We can’t do this at school.”

“No?”

“No!”

Natsu shrugs, pecking the tip of the boy’s nose. “Shame.”

“Then you’ll come?” Atsumu bumps his forehead against Natsu’s. “I’ll really see you tomorrow?”

“If you can walk home straight after tonight, then sure.”

Atsumu gasps and slaps him across the back, blushing as they leave the club, hand in hand, away into the wintery night.

Natsu turns sixteen—a little drunk, a lot happy—but he’s sixteen and he can pinpoint this as the day he falls in love even years later.

And every other birthday is insignificant but so much better, spent at home, in the arms of the boy that saved him in just one night, all those years ago.

Mom only ever asks where he’s going and who he’s moving in with while he packs his bags to leave. She frowns when he answers with the widest smile on his face, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“An Angel.”

Ignore the sloppy writing haha. I'm writing this while travelling back home after a god awful six hour exam.

It felt too plotless to post on my ao3 kdkcd—

If you look at the colouring of Natsu I based it on (go give @sasukeslove all the real love), I imagine the art as the morning after when Oka's annoying Natsu and Atsumu walks in through the door (≧▽≦)

#kono oto tomare! #kotedit #kot #ao3 #dailykot #fanfic #kono oto #ficlet #momoyoshi #momoya natsu #atsumu yoshinaga #Spotify

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Bathroom & mirror

Request: Hey, I was wondering if I could request being at a party with Chris and he goes to the bathroom and you follow only for him to lift you on to the sink and eat your 🐱 then bend you over and fuck you hard watching you in the mirror

Warning: smut, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink, public place

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlists

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

Chris was looking absolutely amazing at the party you both were at. You just wanted to rip his tight shirt off and make love to him. It didn't help that every time you looked at him, his eyes were already on yours, with a smirk on his face. You had to quickly turn away before you ended up melting on the floor.

You took a sip of your wine, feeling it run down your throat. Setting the glass down on the table, you felt a hot breath near your right ear. "I'm going to the bathroom, I hope y'all Join me." 

His words made you shiver. He pulled away and walked to the bathroom. You turned around and looked at him. He turned to look at you, before turning back around and walking to the bathroom. You groaned, hoping out of your seat before making your way to an individual bathroom. Chris was barely in one when he turned around and saw you. He smiled and held the door open for you to come in. You walked into the bathroom, not before Chris slapped your ass. A yelp escaped your lips and you turned around to him. "Chris." He gave you raised eyebrows. "What, I can't slap your ass now?" You rolled your eyes and walked up to him. "It just caught me off guard. He nodded, humming softly.

Chris didn't waste anytime kissing you. His tongue slipped in your mouth making you moan from the warmness. His hands roamed your body before he settled on the bottom of your shirt. After a few minutes of intense kissing, Chris pulled away to take off your shirt, only to attach his lips back on to yours when it was off. You cupped his cheek, deepening the kiss. The sound of your moan mixed with Chris's deep one filled the room. 

Chris picked you up, sitting you on the marble sink. He pulled away looking at you. "Your so fucking hot baby." He attached his lips onto your neck, sucking your sweet spot. "Mm, Chris." You ran your hands through his hair pushing him close. Your eyes were screwed shut as you felt his warm tongue swirl over your skin.

Chris pulled away from your neck and looked back up at you. You could see the hungry in his eyes. He hands went to the back of your neck to give you a quick kiss before he pulled away. His hand fell to your back to unclip your bra. After a few seconds of fiddling, he had your bra off. Chris ran his thumb over your left nipple. The feeling of his cold hands against your nipple made you shiver. He latched his mouth around your right nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, before pulling away with a pop. 

He trailed kisses down from your cleavage, down to your lower stomach. When he did reach it, he unbuttoned your pants, hucking his hand on both sides before pulling them down, along with your panties. He tossed them somewhere on the ground. He spread your legs open, settling himself in between them. You watched as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. "Can't wait to taste you." 

Chris wrapped his arms around your legs before he started devouring you. "Oh my gosh!"

 The sound of his tongue against your sex echoed through the bathroom. You could hear the party still going strong outside the door, but that was not where your mind was.

"Fuck, your tongue feels so good." You moaned loudly, wrapping your hand around your breast. Chris hand squeezed your thigh making sure they didn't close. He moaned Every Time his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. Chris pulled away briefly, replacing his mouth with his left hand. "Does that feel good baby." You nodded, gasping when he swirled his fingers faster. "Yes Chris, it feels so good." 

You heard Chris hum. "That's not my name pup." 

"Fuck daddy." Chris nodded "good girl." He praised, placing his mouth back on your pussy. His tongue ran in between your fold tasting your sweet honey on his tongue. "Taste so good." He whispered before licking up your fold again.

You placed your hand in his, pushing him closer. "Fuck daddy, make me cum." Chris dipped his tongue in your core. You could feel how sloppy it was down there as he ate you out. You rested your shaking arm on the counter, trying your best to hold yourself up. "Mm, daddy I'm so close."

You could feel the familiar warmth of your orgasm coming in your lower stomach. Chris glanced up at you, not bothering to remove his mouth from you. You shook under his touch and before you knew it, you were coming on his tongue. Chris made sure he didn't move until he knew he tasted all of you. When he was sure, he pulled himself away from your pussy right after placing a small kiss on your pussy.

As soon as he was standing up you kissed him. Chris' hand rested on your waist as he kissed you back. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it turned you on even more.

Chris pulled away from the kiss after a few minutes. "Get off of the counter." You did as he asked, hoping off of the sink. Chris turned you around harshly. You looked at him through the mirror seeing his eyes on your. "I want you to watch me while I fucked you. Do you understand?" You nodded slightly. "Use your words pup." 

"Yes daddy." 

Chris started to unbuckle his belt. His eyes never left you as he did. He pushed his pants down, then his boxers. You could see his cock pressed against his stomach as his boxers came off. Chris took a hold of his member stroking it a few times. He used his other hand to push you onto the counter. 

He pushed his swollen tip against your cunt. You moaned softly, still watching him through the mirror. Chris pushed further into you, thrusting in and out during the process. You bite your lip as he gets further in you. When he couldn't go further Chris started fucking you.

He grunted softly when he felt how tight you were. "Shit baby, you're so tight." He gripped your hips getting better leverage. Your eyes were starting to water from how good it felt. 

"Uh.. daddy, you feel so good." Chris' eyes closed as he felt your warm pussy around him. Your hand was gripping onto the counter as he fucked you relentlessly. 

Chris opened his eyes back up looking at you. He let go of your right side and placed that hand around your neck. You lean back against his chest, his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. "I want you to scream as long as you can, so everyone can hear that you're mine."

Chris speeds up in you making you hiss and moan louder. "How's are you doll, huh?" 

"Yours." Your voice was low and that wasn't good enough for Chris. "Louder." He whispered into your ear, while his pace became faster.

"Yours." This time you said it a little louder, but Chris wanted more. "Louder."

"Yours!"

"I SAID LOUDER!"

FUCK I'M YOUR DADDY!" At that moment you came all over Chris's cock. "I'm yours daddy, all yours." Chris spilled his seed deep in you, grunting. You feel against the counter, using your shaking arms to hold yourself up. Chris pulled out of you, pulling his pants back up. 

"I don't think I can walk." You mumbled against your arm. You looked up to see Chris Smirking at you. "That means I fucked you good."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

@chris-butt @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @bval-1 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @raveviolet @rynabarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captainamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @jillanaholland @rororo06 @briannab1234 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @kianifan

#chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans imagine #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans smut

[braveclxrke]

Regarding your Bingo Card- Can I request “Crying into the chest” with Tarlos.

I so want to read it after watching that scene in the promo. 🥺

Thank you ☺️

Thank you so much for the ask!💗

This is the first bad things happen bingo prompt I’ve ever done so I hope you enjoy it! this turned out much longer than I expected so I apologies, I just couldn’t stop writing 🥺

Ao3 link

Title: How do you go on after you lose everything: Take a breath, then another. That’s it 

Summary: The 126 lose a member of their family on a call and TK struggles to deal with it.

Fandom/pairing/prompt: 911 Lone Star/Tarlos/Crying into chest

Word Count: 3.5k

@badthingshappenbingo

TK had had some crazy days in Austin; hurricanes, bulls in cars, and solar flares, but he could never have predicted what was happening right now. 

“Lava?” Paul said, his brow raised as the crew jumped off the truck, the air thick and warm.  “You serious,” He asked, looking over at Owen like the rest of the crew.

The crew passed the police barricades, the air growing warmer by the second. TK could hear the ground cracking, the sounds of screaming growing closer. Smoke now filled the air, as the group looked at the scene before them, bright, glowing lava seeping from the ground, everything around the whole in the middle of the square on fire. 

“Guess you were being serious,” Mateo said, looking around at the 126. 

“Alright everyone stay alert, stay in pairs,” Owen called, holding his mask in his hand, “Tim you come with me and Judd, Nacy with Marjan and TK and Tommy with Mateo and Paul,” The paramedics slung fireproof jackets over their shoulders, Owen and Judd helping to fit their breathing equipment.

“Bet you never saw this in New York,” Marjan said, knocking her shoulder into TK’s, pulling her mask over her face, “Sure you can handle the heat Strand,” She said, and TK could still see the teasing smile on her face through the smoke and mask.

“Oh you know it,” TK smiled back, “You guys sure you can handle the heat?” He said nodding towards where Tim and Nancy were standing.

“We’ve been doing this a lot longer than you kid,” Tim joked, shifting as he got used to the heavyweight of the fire protective jacket. 

“You telling me you’ve faced lava before?” TK asked, his brow raised.

“You have no idea what we’ve faced before,” Tim smiled, looking over at Nancy who was laughing as she slipped her own oxygen mask on. The small group laughed, and for a moment TK forgot that lava was spewing a few feet away.

Continue reading under the cut 

If the worried civilians around the police tape could hear their jokes, TK was sure they would be perplexed. Here they were about to enter a scene covered in lava and they were joking. It was something that came with years of experience, you had to shut off a part of your brain that saw the danger and everything that would go wrong; otherwise, you’d never step into a burning house or in this case; the pit of lava.

TK went to slip his mask on when a voice called from behind.

“Hey!” TK turned around to see Carlos coming towards him, his hand held up to cover his face.

“You shouldn’t be this close to the scene,” TK said, squinting his eyes through the growing smoke. Carlos had no protective gear on, and he could see from the way his boyfriend covered his face with his forearm the heat was intense. Carlos got closer and TK could now see the frown on his face, this time not from the heat, “Please be careful,” Carlos said, his voice serious and low.

TK gave a small smile, leaning forward to place a quick kiss on Carlos’s lips, “When am I not?!” Giving Carlos a wink as he slipped his mask on.

TK walked over to the place where his crew had gathered, waiting to step into the scene. Marjan nodded her head at TK, Nancy standing next to her.

Marjan held her hand up, TK giving her a high five, “Lets roll Strand,” She called as the three of them carefully entered the scene, the other groups going in different directions.

It didn’t take long for them to find someone, lying on the floor, their leg trapped underneath a piece of rock. The group dashed over, being careful to avoid the still growing flames. Nancy got to work while TK and Marjan assisted the woman, talking her through what was being done.

A roar echoed as a rock flew through the air, crashing into the ground. The earth shook and TK had to reach out to stop himself falling, Marjan doing the same, holding Nancy still as she worked.

TK gave a small smile, shaking his head; how did his life get this crazy? TK had been back to work for around 5 months, and it was only in the last month that TK had started to enjoy the job again. The itching fear and anxiety that had embedded itself into his body along with that bullet had just started to subside. TK no longer flinched when he heard a car backfire, or pause before breaking down a door in case someone with a gun was on the other side.

TK felt the sweat drip down his face, stinging his eyes. “We’ve got to move her,” Nancy said. TK and Marjan moved closer, “I need you two to carefully lift that rock while I move her,” She continued, pointing to the rock that was trapping the woman. The pair nodded moving to the rock, their hands poised on either side. “Ready?” Nancy said. Marjan and TK locked eyes through the smoke, nodding as they carefully lifted the rock, the woman crying out as Nancy pulled her free. There was no time to get a stretcher and bring it back, the smoke around them growing thicker each second. Nancy explained to the woman that Marjan and TK were going to carry her out, she nodded as tears spilt down her cheek making marks in the black ash on her face.

Marjan and TK carried the woman through the smoke, the air becoming clearer as they reached the ambulance, placing the woman on a stretcher that was waiting for her.

The ground shook again as another roaring noise filled the air. TK watched as a large rook flew through the air, the smoke too thick to be able to tell where it landed.

Marjan patted TK on the chest to indicate they were ready to head back out when the radio on their chest crackled to life.

“Man down! I repeat man down!” Judd’s voice cut through the chaos of the scene. TK waited to hear his fathers voice, but he didn’t speak. TK felt a cold shiver run through him, his whole body going icy despite the lava a few feet away. “No one enters the scene, it’s too dangerous, we’re bringing him out,” As to prove his point another rock flew through the air, TK didn’t move as it collided with the ground, shaking the earth, It was as if his fear had frozen him in place. “Ambulance on standby I repeat, male hit in the chest with one of the rocks, I don’t think he’s breathing,” Judd continued. Even though TK was strapped to oxygen he’s breathing stopped, caught in his chest and throat. He wanted to reach up and call for his dad over the radio, but his hands were locked by his side. Everything felt slow and blurry as people rushed around him, through the fog TK could see shapes moving towards him; bodies.

Nancy raced past him as Judd and- TK felt the air return to his lungs, his feet unsticking from the ground as he saw his dad next to Judd, covered in dirt and ash but alive. TK let out a relieved breath, it only lasted a few seconds as he noticed who they were carrying; Tim. Everything seemed to speed up as Judd and Owen placed the young paramedic on a stretcher, Tommy leaning over to work on him. He knew people were saying things but he couldn’t hear anything besides the loud ringing in his mind.

Tommy was performing CPR.

Tim wasn’t breathing.

TK felt Marjan grab his hand as they watched in terror as Tim fought for his life.

The paramedic was loaded into the ambulance as it pulled out of the lot.

The 126 just watched for a moment, no one speaking or moving “Alright let’s get back to work,” Owen said. TK could hear how his voice broke, everyone wanting to go be with their friend but there was still work to do. That was the harsh reality of this job, you can’t just leave, the emergency doesn’t stop. Everyone gave a nod, TK noticing the tears that had gathered in Nancy’s eyes as they headed back towards the scene, Tim occupying a piece of all of their minds and hearts.

The truck pulled into the firehouse, the crew slowly jumping off, everyone sore and tired. The lava had taken over 2 hours to manage, from pulling people out, to stopping the continuous growing fire surrounding the scene. TK shrugged off his gear onto the table, pausing for a second to chat his breath before heading up to the bathroom to shower off the shoot and ash.

They had heard nothing from the hospital, no one had spoken a word unless necessary after Tim had left, everyone waiting for their radio to tell them everything was alright. TK had hoped the warm water would wash away the fear and guilt from his body but it did little to ease his emotions.

He had felt relieved. It was just for a second, the smallest moment as he realised his dad was okay but it was relief and the pit in TK’s stomach hadn’t left since he’d felt that momentary relief.

TK eventually pulled himself out of the warm shower, the air of the firehouse feeling colder than he remembered as he pulled on a green shirt and jeans. TK walked out of the washroom to head back down to the lot when he heard a voice.

TK froze as he realised it wasn’t a voice, but a cry. A desperate, broken cry. TK slowly walked to where the cry was coming from.

Eventually, TK came to the door of the large lounge. He could see through the glass that the crew was gathered inside. Paul had his arms wrapped around Marjan and Mateo. Judd was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands.

TK realised it was Nancy who was crying, another paramedic with his arms wrapped around her from behind.

TK took an unsteady step back, he told himself he wasn’t witnessing what he knew he was. Maybe they were tears of relief, maybe this was nothing to do with today's events. TK finally met his father’s eyes, who had noticed him while he had been watching everyone else.

There was no doubt in his mind now what TK was witnessing; grief.

TK didn’t move from the threshold of the door, made no effort to push it open. If he stayed on this side maybe it wouldn’t be true. On this side, everything was the same and life wasn’t about to change.

TK felt his lip quiver as he staggered back from the door, turning on his heels as he walked down the corridor, his mind working on autopilot. TK grabbed the handle of the staircase and started to head down. He only made it halfway before his legs seemed to finally stop working, TK stumbling before falling onto one of the steps, his arms still holding onto the railing.

TK just stared ahead, his mind so wrapped in his thoughts he didn’t hear the footsteps till they were right behind him. The footsteps stopped and TK heard the person sit down, he didn’t have to see them to know who it was; Carlos. TK could recognise the man's cologne anywhere.

“You okay?” Carlos quietly asked, perched on the step behind him, his legs either side of TK.

Carlos' voice managed to cut through the chaos that was TK’s mind, he let his hand fall from the railing above, “He’s dead instead he?” TK asked his voice monotone, no hint of emotion to be found. TK turned around to see Carlos looking down at him, the rims of his eyes red from tears, “Tim?” TK choked the emotions finding his way back to his voice.

Carlos sighed, his lip trembling and that all the confirmation that TK needed, “The hospital did everything they could but, there wasn’t anything to be done,” Carlos reached out, placing his hand on TK’s cheek, “I’m so sorry,” He soothed.

TK just stared straight ahead, the image blurring and shifting as tears filled his eyes. “When I first realised it wasn’t my dad I was…” TK cut himself off, shaking his head of the thought and comforting hand of Carlos, he didn’t deserve it, “...Relieved and ugh” TK shook his head harder, wrapping his arms around his stomach to try and lessen the nausea that was building.

Carlos moved his hand back to TK’s shoulder, his thumb smoothing this skin. “You can’t blame yourself for that TK, he’s your dad, of course, you wanted him to be okay, that doesn’t mean you wanted the others to hurt,” The logical side of TK’s brain knew that was true, but right now that side wasn’t working.

“We’d just become a family,” TK laminated, narrowing his eyes, “I spent months keeping everyone at arm's length and then as soon as I realised I wanted to be here…” He trailed off again like his mind wasn’t capable of finishing a thought, all of them too painful. When TK had gotten to Austin, he had just meant for this to be a job, like it was back in New York. Yet, here TK had found people he never expected to, people that understood him, supported him; a family. “Now one of us is gone,” TK whispered to himself. In the six years, TK had been a firefighter, he had never lost a crewmate. There’d been close calls, people who had to leave the force but no one had ever...died. Tim might not have been a firefighter, but he was part of their family, part of the 126 the same way Carlos and Michelle were; they shared a home. “I was just joking with him a few hours ago,” TK instantly cringed at his light and cheerful attitude he had worn when he arrived at the scene, it seemed so wrong now looking back. “What are we supposed to do?” He asked, not to Carlos in particular, more to the world, but he sure neither of them would have an answer.

“Right now...” Carlos sighed, moving his hand to TK’s back, “Right now we do what we need to do, and get through the day.”

Get through the day. It seemed so simple, but as TK sat on the stairs the end of the day seemed almost unreachable. “I don’t know about tomorrow,” Carlos whispered.

It was the break in the man's voice, the tiredness in his eyes that lifted the last bit of fog from TK’s mind.

“I’m sorry,” TK finally said, his voice a fraction more stable this time, “I know you’ve worked with him for a long time,” TK said, his hand reaching out to take Carlos, “He’s your friend to,”

Carlos had been in Austin years before TK had even arrived, as had Tim. The two had known each other for years, worked together on cases that TK probably knew nothing about.

Carlos just nodded, the lump in his throat bobbing as he blinked quicker, “He was everyone’s friend,” he said.

The use of the word was and not is caused a tear to roll down TK’s cheek, a moment later the same happening for Carlos; they were speaking about Tim in the past tense.

“This isn’t meant to happen to them, we’re the ones that are meant to run into to danger,” When TK became a firefighter, he knew danger was a part of everyday life, he’d gotten use to it, but the paramedics, they were meant to save lives and be safe, not run into the fire with them. TK looked away down at the empty lot. All the trucks were there, even the ambulance, everything looked the same but nothing was. “My dads in remission, I’m back to work, everything was just going right and now-” The constant worry that something was about to go wrong had finally quieted down, the fear that he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop had stopped. “I just don’t understand,” TK asked, again not to anyone in particular.

“Neither do I Ty,” Carlos said, his arms coming to wrap around TK’s shoulder, his head resting in the crook of his neck. “But we’ve all got each other, and we’re going to get through this,” He said. TK closed his eyes, he hadn’t even thought about the crew, how they were feeling. “You wanna go see your dad?” Carlos whispered.

“No,” TK quickly said. He knew it was selfish, he knew he should go see his crew; his family, but that made it too real. TK wasn’t sure he could face that right now, his mind was still too confused and overwhelmed, “I just wanna sit here for a little longer,” He warily said. He knew he would have to leave eventually, but right now he just wanted to sit here.

TK felt Carlos pull back, “Want me to leave you alone for a bit?” He asked.

“No,” TK didn’t even have to think before he answered, “I don’t want you to go,” TK whimpered, suppressing those sobs that were growing in his chest, aching to get out.

It was a sentence that was drenched in double meaning. TK didn’t want Carlos to leave right now, the man brought TK comfort in ways that he couldn’t describe. But he was also asking something else, begging Carlos to never put TK in this position, to never go to work and not come back.

TK felt Carlos’s hand run through his hair, a light kiss being planted on the top of his head, “I’m not going anywhere,” He assured.

TK turned around, Carlos was looking down at him, his eyes glassy but still full of such love and support. TK leaned forward, Carlos coming to wrap his arms around him, his lips pressed into TK’s hair.

TK rested his head against Carlos's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat below. “This wasn’t meant to happen,” TK muttered again. There were hundreds of things that weren’t meant to happen; his dad wasn’t meant to get cancer, TK wasn’t meant to be an addict, he wasn’t meant to get shot. Life didn’t work like that though, bad things happened that weren’t meant to, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“I know, I know,” Carlos murmured into TK’s hair.

TK squeezed his eyes shut, a tear leaking out of the side and running down his face.

TK knew the stairs were solid, unmoving, yet he felt unbalanced like everything had shifted and was still changing. He held onto Carlos' chest like it was a life raft like it was the only thing that kept him grounded. There were no words left to say, nothing to make the pain in his chest, and everyone else's less.

TK tried to take a breath in but it got caught in his chest, the sobs that had been struggling to escape finally erupting through. Carlos' arms wrapped around him tighter, as the man whispered words of comfort into his hair but TK couldn’t hear over his own cries.

The men just sat on the stairs, holding onto each other as a new world shifted around them, one that wasn’t the same as before and never would be.

“We’re going to be alright,” TK barely heard Carlos’s words over his cries, but they settled into his chest and mind.

We’re going to be alright it seemed hard to imagine right now, as TK cried into Carlos’s chest, the rest of his crew mourning in another room. TK’s cries still caught in his throat as he clung to Carlos, he took in a shaky breath, his sobs growing further and further apart till it was just hushed cries.

TK pulled himself back from Carlos’s chest, blinking a few times to clear his eyes, reaching up to wipe the tears from the corner of Carlos’s eyes.

TK stood from the steps, his breath still shaky. Carlos stood as well, taking TK’s hand as the pair just stood there, “You ready?” Carlos asked, nodding towards the lounge above them.

TK bit his bottom lip, his eyes still blinking quickly to clear the tears.

“Yeah,” TK nodded, his thumb smoothing Carlos’s hand.

‘I think we’re going to be just okay’ TK had once told his dad, and at the time he didn’t believe it, yet things had turned out okay. “We’re going to be okay,” TK said as he started to head up the stairs with Carlos, taking in a few steadying breaths.

Things wouldn’t be the same.

And they wouldn’t be easy.

But they would be okay. The 126 had one another, they were still a family and nothing would change that.

#immermagical #badthingshappenbingo #aj writes #tarlos fic #911ls fic #911 lone star #usersneetches #tuserjamie

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {23}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, information dump and time jump - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

The final qualifier of the season had come to an end in Abu Dhabi. 

With only one race to go for 2023 the championship points were so close between the fourth and ninth positions that Pierre could finish anywhere among them. His third row starting position on the grid had put him in a good spot to get some last minute points and move up, but we would have to wait and see what tomorrow would bring.

The last six months had been a whirlwind and our passports were full of stamps from travelling wherever Pierre’s races took us. Whenever there were a few weeks between races we would either head to the family home we had purchased in Rouen or visit my parents in Manchester. 

We still kept the house in London but it was rarely used, in fact, Charles had stayed in it more nights than we had since moving to France.

Addie loved our home in Rouen and it was only a few minutes drive down the road to Pierre’s parents. Moving there had been one of the best decisions, giving me a fresh start and even more family for Addie who had instantly been adopted into Pierre’s family. She loved having cousins her age to play with whenever we visited and no one would have guessed they weren’t related by blood with the bond they shared. 

“Daddy!” Addie squealed as she saw Pierre’s car pull up into the box. 

“Patience,” I reminded her as she tugged on my hand and tried to pull me across the garage towards him. “They need to put the car away first.”

She shifted on her feet impatiently as it was wheeled inside but the moment she saw his steering console placed on the hood she tore her hand free and darted through the pitcrew. She was pretty much a part of the car’s cool down routine now and the crew all knew to watch out for her as they removed the wheels and she jumped up and down at the front wing waiting for Pierre. 

Her arms were already reaching for him before his feet touched the ground and she didn’t care that he was hot and sweaty in his race suit, she still flung her arms around his neck. “Did you go fast, daddy?”

“Very fast, ma fille.” He put her down when he reached me and unzipped the race suit with a relieved breath as cool air rushed in before giving me a quick kiss. “Have you seen my parents yet?”

“No but mum texted me an hour ago when they touched down so they can’t be too far away.” I shook my head and looked at my watch. “I could do with them hurrying up since Granny has my dress and your suit. At this rate we will have nothing to wear.”

“She’d probably prefer that, for me,” Pierre joked and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. 

“You can’t even joke about that because it’s true.”

Since it was the end of the season all of our family was coming to the race in support of Pierre but before all that could take place we would be going to the driver’s dinner. It was an event that brought all the drivers and principles together to mingle with the rich and potential sponsors to ensure more cash flow for the following year. 

Essentially, the guys were artwork put on display. And since it would be in the presence of the uber rich, I wasn’t going to be arriving in an off-the-rack dress. Unless Granny was running fashionably late.

“You should go shower,” I said as I nudged Pierre towards the hallway. “I need to quickly finish this report without you distracting me.”

“I haven’t even done anything,” he objected. 

My eyes trailed over his body from head to toe then slowly back up his body. The skin tight fireproof shirt showed every dip and crevice of his toned muscles and I bit my lip. “You don’t have to, I just look at you and forget what I was doing. It’s very inconvenient.”

His smirk grew and he stretched his arms high, looking just like a normal driver doing some warm down exercises but he knew what he was doing as it pulled his shirt up and bared his abs. The peek of golden hairs trailing down his navel caught my attention and I had to tear my eyes away from where they led before slapping his arm lightly.

“I could penalise you for that, Gasly.” I flicked my FIA badge pinned to my chest. “Coercion of an official is a serious offence.”

“Coercion?”

“Mhmm.” I stepped closer and rose on my tiptoes. “You threaten my sanity when you do that. You know it drives me wild.”

He grinned wickedly at my confession and winked. “As an official, you really should have a little more self control, madame.” He ruffled Addie’s hair and waved as he went to his changing room, whistling a cocky tune as he did and I narrowed my eyes at his back as he retreated. 

“Is daddy in trouble?”

“No, mija, quite the opposite,” I replied as I turned my attention to Addie. “Want to finish your picture?”

We went back to the table we had commandeered and Addie returned to colouring in the car I had drawn for her while I opened my laptop. 

When I had imagined working in Formula One I thought it would be in one of the teams but half way through the season FIA announced there would be new regulations for the cars in 2024. To ensure the cars met the regulations the FIA needed more mechanical engineers familiar with the technology and I decided to apply. 

There were half a dozen of us in my team so it wasn’t a problem that I couldn’t work with Alpine since it would be a conflict of interest. I rarely worked with Ferrari too, for the same reason, since Charles had become Addie’s godfather at her christening over the summer break.

I still had ambitions of getting a more hands-on role but for now I kept myself busy and it was flexible for childcare and fit into Pierre’s schedule, plus we still got to go home together each night to whatever hotel we found ourselves in. My life was balanced and complete. 

I would almost say it was perfect but there was one bump in the road that was currently being fixed, if mum’s vague messages were correct. I would have to ask her about them when she arrived. 

I finished my report on McLaren’s plans for their new suspension and sent it through to the head engineer before closing my laptop lid and sliding it into my bag. Water droplets trickled down my neck and I gasped at the cold sensation before looking up to see Pierre’s cheeky smile beneath his damp hair. 

“You look hot, I thought you might want to cool off.”

I smiled back sweetly. “I’ll remember how considerate you are when my feet are cold.”

My phone vibrated on the table and Pierre grinned as he saw the text from my mum saying they were right outside. He scooped Addie up from her chair and took my hand, his energy infectious as he rushed to get out of the garage.

Granny’s plane must have been full since there were both mine and Pierre’s parents, his four brothers, their wives and children, plus Matthew. The moment Addie saw her cousins she squirmed to get down and ran the rest of the way, barrelling into them with a fit of giggles. 

After a quick round of hugs I finally made it to mum and she pulled me aside so we could talk somewhere quieter. My heart thrashed in my chest as she reached into her handbag and produced a brown envelope made from that godforsaken recycled paper and sustainable sources.

“This is the last brown envelope I ever want to see,” I muttered as I ran my fingernail along the seal, breaking it open with a deep breath. The papers slipped out with little resistance and my hands shook as I saw the signatures on the bottom. “So this is it?”

“That’s it,” mum confirmed with a grin.

I shoved the papers back in the envelope and buried it under the FIA forms in my bag. “I have one more favour to ask.”

“No you don’t, mija.” She pulled another document from her bag and placed it in my hands before patting my cheek. “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

Granny had outdone herself with the masterpiece I wore. It was tailored to my every curve and the design could not have been more perfect. 

Social media was no longer my enemy and with Pierre’s support I had used the platforms to share my story and raise awareness around domestic violence as well as fundraise for charities such as Women’s Refuge. While there would always be those who felt the need to leave nasty comments, the good far outweighed the bad and I no longer dwelled on the bad.

The dress Granny made was a celebration of how far I had come and a statement piece for the fact it was White Ribbon Day, the International Day for the Eradication of Violence against Women. If wearing it encouraged even one person to engage in a conversation then it was worth it, because to say I was uncomfortable wearing it was an understatement. 

“Wow,” Pierre gushed as I stepped out of the bedroom and Granny watched on proudly from the doorway. “You look absolutely stunning. Tu es la plus belle femme que j'aie jamais rencontrée.” (French: You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.)

I blushed at the compliment and looked down at the sleek black dress again. The slit in the skirt reached all the way to my hip and was deliberately on the left side to contrast the scars that ran down my thigh. Pierre loved me, imperfections and all, and he was proud that I didn’t try to hide them anymore.

“I think you knocked the English out of him, honey,” Granny commented as Pierre continued to murmur affirmations in the language she did not understand.

“It happens now and again, when he’s frazzled.”

“I’m not frazzled,” Pierre corrected. “English just doesn’t do justice to how beautiful you look.”

He reached for the neckline, running his fingers along the white silk crossed neck halter to where they joined over my heart and then curved under my bust. Against the midnight black fabric it was impossible to miss the symbol of the white ribbon. It matched the small white ribbon pinned to Pierre’s breast pocket and when his suit jacket was unbuttoned it revealed the silk lining was a repeating pattern of the white ribbon on black.

“Do we have to go?” I asked as I flattened his lapels and ran my palms over his broad chest. “Addie’s with your parents and we could have the whole place to ourselves.”

Granny cleared her throat. “Stop your romantic whispering and get moving. I didn’t come out of retirement so my work of art can end up crumpled on your bedroom floor.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the amused smile from growing on my face before I swiped the matching clutch from the coffee table and made my way to the door. “Let’s go, handsome.”

“I’m coming,” Pierre said after a moment. “Just admiring the view.”

“You’re welcome,” Granny chuffed before grabbing her own clutch. “Now, where’s that husband of mine? I need my arm-candy before I step out on the red carpet.”

Click here for chapter twenty four.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

#pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #running from the flames

[ill-skillsgard]

I bet the first few times Faith and Faust have sex, it still hurts and she spends the first half of it being uncomfortable. But when they finally get to a point where she’s comfortable, she makes the most angelic noise Faust has ever heard in his life and he wants to ram into her more than ever.

Warning: 18+ smut, sex-related pain, a brief mention of weed, one mention of blood, one spooky boy falling deeper in love.

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

When Faust returned home with Faith in tow, a living room full of his buddies, a floating layer of thick smoke and screeching heavy music blaring through an abused speaker system greeted them. Empty beer bottles littered the coffee table, and the ashtray overflowed onto the glass. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence, but the appearance of half his band and several of their friends changed their intended trajectory. Before stepping into the chaos, Faust had sported the makings of an impressive hard-on that disappeared the moment he smelled weed in the hallway. Faith pressed to his side, little fingers still meshed with her boyfriend's. 

"Faust! Fuck yeah, bud, what's up?" Ola called over the music. 

Faust didn't return the greeting. He scanned the living room, then looked at Faith with perked shoulders. 

"What do you wanna do?" He asked her. 

Faith didn't want to be the buzzkill girlfriend who pulled Faust away from his friends, but they had been talking dirty to each other the entire ride to his place, and she was feeling the same capsized arousal he was. 

"Uh, I don't know. Should we stay?" 

He swiped his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, then backed out of the apartment, followed by a chorus of displeased hollering. He closed the door and pulled Faith back toward the elevator. 

"Where are we going?" Faith asked. 

"I don't know... Your place?" 

Faith paled. "I share my dorm with another girl."

"Fuck," Faust whispered. "I really need to get my own place."

He pressed the button for the basement when they entered the car, and Faith looked up at him with confusion pinching her face. He stared ahead at the metal doors as they descended. 

When the elevator opened, Faust pulled her out into a mostly empty corridor. On one end of the hall there was a door leading to a stairwell, and on the other side was another door affixed with a nameplate that read boiler room. Faust led her to the right, toward the heavy, fireproof door. He reached into the inner pocket of the leather jacket, still draped over Faith's shoulders, and pulled out a folded pocket knife. The point was almost needle-sharp, and Faith wondered about the legality of the weapon her boyfriend carried on him, then decided she didn't care. By the dented and scratched look of the door handle, it was not the first time the door was subject to intrusive treatment. Faust picked the lock with ease, then pushed the door open with the toe of his boot. 

The room was dank and musty. A network of metal pipes clinked and dripped as Faust guided Faith inside and shut the door behind them. In the darkness, she clutched the flaps of his coat around her until the light from a single swinging bulb revealed their dirty surroundings. Faust stood in the center of the room, staring at her with a menacing smirk, face obscured in shadow. 

"This place is... nice," Faith hesitated.

Faust ignored the comment and went to her, pushing the coat from her shoulders and lifting her off the ground. He carried her across the boiler room, lips locked, then sat her down on a cold metal workbench covered in sawdust and shavings. She yelped from the chill touch on the backs of her thighs, and Faust chuckled.

Before she complained further, Faust dropped his bullet belt to the floor, and it landed with a grating clank against the hard cement. Faith watched him unzip his jeans before lifting her thigh and stretching her panties to one side, moaning when he saw the tiny slit between her legs.

"Still want it hard?" He asked.

She bit her lip and looked up at him with a nod. "Mm-hmm."

"Well, all right. But don't get mad at me tomorrow when you're limping."

"I won't," she said.

Faust paused just as the tip of his cock grazed her opening. He snatched his hips back, grabbed her face and looked down at her with a stern expression. "Tell me if it's too much."

"Okay," she whispered.

He squeezed her cheeks tighter. "I'm serious. I don't want to hurt you."

Faith nodded, eyes large and shiny in the dull light. Faust studied her face for a moment longer. His heart twinged whenever he looked into her eyes and saw the endless love that lived there. He kissed her hard while easing his way inside her. 

The pressure was still fierce. Faith's body resisted, but the whimper she made helped him set aside his fear of hurting her. Faust crushed his bottom lip between his teeth, rolling his head back as he allowed himself to indulge in her heat without moving.

Faith yanked her panties farther to the side and leaned back to encourage some movement. He pulled out and thrust back in once at a quarter of the power he planned on giving her. Even that was enough to make her wince.

"Oh my God, Faust, you're so fucking big."

"I know, baby. You can take it. It's a lot, but you can handle it, right? You asked for this."

He thrust into her again, but only made it partially inside before brushing up against a wall that would allow him no further. Their anatomy didn't match up, but Faust wouldn't let that stop him from giving her what she wanted. Picking up speed, he kept his eye on her face to watch for signs of genuine pain. 

"Oh... Oh!" She cried out after a deep dive.

"You good, baby? Want me to keep going?"

"Yes, Faust. Please don't stop."

Faust couldn't understand why his concern held him back. Any other girl he'd made squeal from his girth only excited him more. When they wailed from the brutality of his propulsions, he had laughed and kept going, raking his hand through their hair or stuffing two fingers down their throats to keep them from getting too loud. Faith was different. Although he wanted to shove something in her mouth, he liked to watch her lips instead. Liked to see her biting and gaping, running her tongue along the peaks of her cupid's bow before he kissed her.

"Harder," Faith whispered.

Spurred by her challenge, Faust obliged and increased his velocity. The damp air caused him to sweat, but he couldn't stop to remove his shirt. He pressed into her, and she ran her hands up his back, through his hair and over his broad shoulders.

"Fuck, I love your pussy," Faust murmured.

Faith smirked and rutted against him, wincing against the questionable sensation of his cock meeting her cervix. Then, one deep pulse forced a cry from her mouth. Faust resisted checking in on her again, but she noticed he leavened his movements to avoid brushing too hard against her insides. His reduction provided some relief, and she let out a breath she didn't notice she was holding.

"Breathe, baby. You got this. I know you want to be all slutty and eager for me, but it's okay if you can't take it all the way."

"But I want it," Faith whined.

"You're just too little," he reasoned.

"You promised to fuck me hard."

Faust had enough of her arguing and lifted her off the table to give her a few harsh thrusts just to drive home his point. He pressed her face into his shoulder and let her moan out and cry while he ravaged her. While suspended in air, Faith felt smaller than ever as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Yeah? You wanna get railed? Want me to wreck that little pussy until you bleed all over my cock? Is that what you want?"

Her crying echoed off the metal pipes, and though they were in the basement, Faith thought the entire apartment building could hear her getting fucked. 

One moment, she was vertical, and the next lowered to the ground where she sat astride his hips, full to bursting and clenching her teeth.

"Ride it. Ride my fucking dick if you want it so bad," Faust challenged.

Faith's panties snapped over as she struggled to move and hold back her gasps. He growled and pulled the material until it ripped, elastic bands ripping and hanging limply around her groin.

She pressed her hands to his chest, leveraging herself up until she wasn't agonizingly full. Faust gripped her sides, leered, and flipped her onto her back.

"Didn't think so. I knew you couldn't handle this. You like to talk a big game, though. It's pretty cute."

The truth was: Faust didn't want to hurt her. Where he used to take pleasure in a girl's gasps and whimpers, he now saw no appeal in making Faith sob. Her moans were exquisite, but when she seethed and pulled back from him, he felt it like a punch in the chest. 

When Faith finally showed more signs of pleasure than distress, he felt better about spreading her thighs and delving into her with shallow but frequent thrusts. And maybe he'd never be able to go balls-deep in her, but she clenched around his shaft so tightly it didn't matter.

With a few minutes of wheeling his fingertips around her clit, and a little more encouragement, Faith's body shuddered as she came. Her walls clamped on him, and the sounds of her breathy gasps had him coming shortly after. Faust pulled out at the last second and spilled an ample load of cum on the floor before tucking himself into his jeans and helping Faith to a wobbly stand.

"Looks like this might be our new spot," Faust laughed.

Faith shot him a warning look. "Um! No thanks! I mean, I had fun, but I don't want to know what kind of homicidal things have gone down in this creepy-ass room."

He bent to scoop up his jacket, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Nothing homicidal on my part."

"Oh, really? And what exactly do you use this room for then? You popped that lock pretty quickly. It seems like you know your way around."

Faust opened the door, and they both squinted from the fluorescent hallway light. 

"Sometimes, I come down here to smoke."

"And fuck girls?" Faith asked.

"Not me, but my friends have."

"Gross," Faith muttered.

“Whatever, babe. You just got fucked down here too. Guess you’re just as gross,” he bumped her with his hip but didn’t allow her to stumble.

The next morning, while Faust laid awake next to his girlfriend, he noticed bruises on her inner thighs and sighed. If it weren't for the dreamy smile inhabiting her face while she slept, he might have felt guilty. The blotches served as little reminders of their boiler room fuck, and Faust sank back into the pillows, wearing his own soft grin.

#faust x faith #faust stuff #valter skarsgard fanfiction

[fullsunalicia]

hiii! i just found your account and i’m so in love with everything you’ve written!!! can i request a johnny demigod au?

piece by piece — SYH

johnny would rather die than admit he’s not able to fix something. no matter what it is, he’s absolutely certain he can find a way to make it right. correct the clock’s tick. make the light bulb shine again. puzzle the pieces of your heart together. who else would, if not him?

son of hephaestus!johnny x daughter of dionysus!reader

of course you can! thank you for request love, i hope you enjoy! <3

Some people are born with a silver-spoon in their mouth. Johnny entered the world with mechanical tools and screwdrivers in his little hands. At least that’s what he keeps on telling others when they watch him build something.

He’s always had a knack for stuff like that. During experiments, it was always Johnny who got the thing up and working. He loves to create. There’s no better feeling than getting something to work again, like a broken clock, or a flickering light.

There’s only one exception. Johnny’s never tried to fix a heart before, but he’s willing to try.

A loud yelp escapes you as Johnny takes away the wine bottle you were clinging to. Is this your second or third one? Honestly, he doesn’t remember. He hasn’t been paying attention. The only thing that matters right now is getting you away from all the alcohol, and into a bed to sleep your rush off. Your eyes are stained red, rivalling those of a stoner. Your fix is free; it’s called ‘tears’. Truth be told, you’re an emotional mess, and everything spills over the second alcohol enters your bloodstream and chases away the deep-rooted pain inside your chest.

“You give that back right now, Seo.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he deadpans. The frat house is way too loud, overcrowded with people he’s never seen before, but you’re gonna have to deal with that if you’re going to sleep over tonight. Strong arms slide beneath your back and into the hollows of your knees, lifting you up as if you‘re the pound of feathers and not the pound of iron you feel like. It’s a familiar feeling, because Johnny always carries you to bed. It’s a tradition that’s slipped into your drunk habits aswell, since you tend to pass out in your intoxicated bliss instead of helping yourself to an appropiate sleeping place.

Johnny sets you down on a soft mattress, one you recognize too easily. His blankets are freshly washed, and you ignore the laughter falling from Johnny’s lips as you snuggle into them. You look like a toddler. “Aren’t you going to change, (y/n)?” he mumbles, fingertips brushing over your cheekbones. You’re like a sculpture - flawless marble, the perfect depiction of a Greek beauty. Venus de Milo is literally sprawled over his bed. Not many guys can say that. “That croptop must be kinda tight. Here, let me help you.”

“You think you’re funny?” you drawl out. Alcohol makes your tongue heavy, speaking is an effort. He’d never admit it out loud, but you’re rather adorable whenever you’ve had a sip too much. Johnny tucks you in, the soft, plushy blankets covering your entire body. Your eyes are already screwed shut. You’ve got a sharp tongue, but everybody knows how much you trust Johnny. More than anyone else in your life. He’s the one who looks past the drunk facade and sees the sorrow beneath it, the very same your father must have felt when Ariadne left him for eternity. Like an illness, your heart is rotting from an invisible wound, inflicted by someone who didn’t know how to treat you right.

Johnny would. He knows you deserve to be treated like a princess, not some prize. That’s why he broke that guy’s jaw with pure pleasure. The busted knuckles after that were beyond worth it, and the kiss you had left on them was just the cherry on top.

There’s nothing Johnny wouldn’t do for you. His head is filled with thoughts about you and you only, his entire existence revolves around protecting his tiny best friend. You’re his world, and Johnny’s the moon circling it. You just don’t know it yet. Maybe you don’t want him, reject him like Aphrodite did to his father. It doesn’t sound so bad when it means he can still baby you like this, fingers carding through your hair, listening to the appreciative hums you let out at that. When he lowers his head to sneak a kiss on your cheek, cheeky and daring, you don’t fulfill your threats to snap his neck. Drowsily, since you’re already slipping into slumber, you catch Johnny around the neck and pull him down to leave your own peck on his temple.

Whoever in Olymp is responsible for your behavior, whatever Fate had meddled with your creation - he’d sincerely like to thank them from the bottom of his heart for making you a clingy drunk.

Since the first day of college, Johnny has been taking care of you. He had helped you renovate your dorms since you are literally helpless when it comes to building cupboards and setting up some baseboards. Whenever you miss a lecture, you copy off his carefully written notes. And you can bet your sweet ass you’re the first one to take a sip of Johnny’s freshly brewed coffee. It’s not like he has it in himself to stop you - he’s the one who offers you the mug and scolds you for not taking care of yourself. He’s the one who wants to ease off some stress from your shoulders by helping you with your living quarters. He wants to make sure you get the correct notes so you don’t fail during an exam.

It’s only right he’s the one to solve the jigsaw puzzle that represents your heart.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Raise your hand if you think (y/n)’s an alcoholic.”

“Nakamoto, if you don’t shut up, I’ll seriously consider stuffing your mouth with a croissant.” Over the breakfast table, you throw an not-so-evil glare Yuta’s way, but the man only laughs and starts eating his cereal. You don’t really look threatening in your blanket cocoon; you had refused to part from them when Johnny had woken you up and dragged you out of his room. “Seo, put that hand down right now.”

“Lying is a sin, (y/n).” He catches the hand that tried to hit his chest, and you yelp loudly when he tugs you out of your safe space inside the blankets so you can sit on his lap. His frat brothers are staring, all of them aware about the feelings blossoming in Johnny’s chest for the alcoholic he managed to befriend. He doesn’t care, though. He’s too busy adoring the embarrassed blush on your cheeks, so distracted by the sight that he forgets you’re in attack mode. The flick to his forehead actually hurts. “Don’t make me throw you across the table, (y/n). You know I can do it.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you shoot back. Stubborn as always.

Johnny’s arm around your waist doesn’t seem to bother you. You actually continue your breakfast while he rests his head on your shoulder, lost in your natural fragrance. Of course you smell like grapes. The stench of alcohol. But he also picks up roses, the underlying notes of the perfume you had put on last night. According to you, he smells like burnt wood and oil. That doesn’t sound as pleasant as you do, but he’ll take what he can.

The gears are already set in motion. Without you knowing, Johnny plans to cure your broken heart. So when you set down the knife you used to cut open your croissant, Johnny asks you: “(y/n), wanna go on a date?”

You freeze on his lap. Your heartbeat thunders below his touch, like a clock ticking away. Hearts are nothing but clockwork, racing towards your death. The last hour of your life. Until your battery finally runs out. Johnny has a lot of mechanic jokes. “Excuse me? Are you still drunk?”

“You of all people are not allowed to ask me if I’m drunk.”

“Fair,” you mumble, almost offended. But the shock still lingers in your veins, painted on his friend’s face aswell. You turn in his hold to look Johnny in the eyes, the disbelief in yours driving a knife through his heart. “Is this a joke, Seo Youngho? I don’t particularly like to joke about this and you know that better than anyone else.”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking.” Johnny’s fingers tug at your shirt, desperate to feel what’s below. Is your skin as soft as it looks like? If he touches you here and there, what can he coax out of you? His thoughts run wild about you always; sometimes innocently, sometimes anything but. “I’m sick of watching you drink your problems away, (y/n). We all know you’ve gotten over him, you’re just afraid of facing the consequences of what he’s done to you. Let me help you. I can fix this.”

Your eyes are hypnotizing. Maybe this is what it looks like when maenads possess their victims, luring them in with the promise of a good time and better alcohol. You don’t offer him intoxication - you offer Johnny the entire galaxy, every solar system locked into your gaze, a kaleidoscope of human memories, desire, love. One look would make any man lightheaded.

Children of Hephaestus are fireproof. They’re supposed to be blacksmiths, working at any temperature. Only you manage to leave scorch markings where your fingertips meet his face, uncomfortably hot, and still irresistible. Second degree burns don’t sound so bad when you’re the one inflicting them.

“You can’t fix everything, Johnny,” you tell him. The sadness clinging to your voice is centuries old, older than time itself, the common tale of a heart broken that’s never going to be whole again. “No matter how hard you try.”

Johnny clings to you like a drowning man would to his life ring. “You wouldn’t know. You never let me try.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Johnny doesn’t know where you start and he ends. Your relationship is blurred lines, interwoven red strings. There are pieces you’ve been given by him to make you complete, and parts you’ve given away to fulfill him. You give and give and give, never once thinking if it’s going to break you.

That’s why it’s so easy to love Johnny. A very long time ago, you’d already promised him your heart, long before it had been darkened by strangers who never learnt how to treat it. It’s his, in every sense of the word. Over the years, it has been fed with happy things. Johnny’s smile. The pride you feel whenever he wins an award for his experiments and ideas. The giddy feeling he sets off inside you when he lifts you off the ground to twirl you around like a princess. The many nights you used to stay up to listen to him and count the stars, naming them after you while you fell asleep to the sound of Johnny’s pulse. How could your heart belong to someone else, when it’s never known anyone besides him?

As long as there’s a beat inside your heart, there will be love, too. In the many thousand shards that pierce through your lungs and are barely hidden beneath your skin, affection will always pool beneath the blood they draw. You were so suspicious of Johnny’s attempts, yet it comes so easy.

He takes you out to see the city, even though you know every corner of it. Johnny forces you to see it with new eyes, to chase away the bad experiences you connect them with. The park where you had been broken up with turns into the place where Johnny teaches you to skate, arms tight around your waist, the promise of no harm ever coming to you if he can prevent it luring you to try. The many restaurants you had started to avoid because of the couples dining there had turned into date nights where Johnny orders for you and you in turn for him, laughing at the grimace the other pulls when it doesn’t taste as expected. He takes your memories and flips them, good side up.

Your lungs had been poisoned with toxins for a very long time. Johnny was the clean air that helped you breathe. What had once been pain turned into newfound happiness, the flutter of butterflies inside your stomach. The exploding fireworks Johnny sets off when his lips meet your skin.

Where alcohol had once mended was now pure fire. Johnny’s fire, burning you from the inside out, setting you free like a phoenix out of his ashes.

You should’ve known better than to trust this good feeling. A year’s worth of pain is not erased so easily. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Doubt eats away at your heart, casting long shadows of the healing pieces.

❀ ❀ ❀

Johnny hates the theoretical part of his studies. His hands itch to work, to forge, to create. They can’t sit still, and that’s why it takes him hours to finish his assignments. If there’s not the impending doom of an exam lingering inside his mind, there’s no reason for him to sit unmoving on a chair for several hours to concentrate on the task at hand.

But time is running out, and he has to finish this now. He had already slept for the entire day, having eaten breakfast at 3pm since another frat party had kept him awake yesterday. Yeah, he should’ve laid off the alcohol, but you go ahead and try to tell Sicheng no when he begs you to come play beer pong.

That’s physically impossible. There’s not a single soul on this planet that’s able to resist Sicheng’s puppy dog eyes, and he knows. Monster.

That’s why Johnny sits here now. He has to force his short attention span to cling to the paper he’s supposed to be writing on, since he knows damn well he’d grasp at any chance to procrastinate. His thoughts wander to you, like always. His sweet (y/n). The raging alcoholic.

Or, how he likes to call you, his princess.

The petname colors your cheeks red and makes you lower your pretty eyes. His imagination is too vivid - Johnny groans loudly as you conquer his mind again, determined to stay there forever. Daydreams are always conjured by the wish of seeing you. Johnny is so unbelievably whipped.

He’s already decided. The next time he sees you, he’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend. To be his for as long as he exists, and in turn being yours forever. In a room full of people, Johnny’s eyes would still search for you. Who else would he love for the rest of his life if not you?

Maybe he’ll never get to.

The door to his room is thrown open rather loudly. Yuta tumbles in, yawn leaving his lips, before the man freezes in his movements and stares at Johnny. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my room, you know.”

“I know this is your room, you giant idiot,” Yuta hisses. Johnny furrows his eyebrows; had he done something wrong...? What’s gotten the man so worked up? “I’m asking you why you’re here instead of the date you promised your almost-girlfriend who you’ve been in love with your entire life!”

Johnny’s heart drops. It falls and falls into that pit of dread inside his stomach, just like pencil and ruler as he throws it onto the table and grabs his jacket. He almost tumbles down the stairs and breaks his neck, but that’d be worth it if it meant reaching you faster. Taeil yells at him to be more careful, though his words only meet deaf ears. Johnny’s already long gone, bursting through the door as he starts running and prays it’s enough to reach you in time.

You’re not there.

He wonders how he can call himself a son of Hephaestus when he cannot even stop his own heart from shattering at the realization that he may have lost you forever. It would’ve been your anniversary with your ex boyfriend today, and Johnny realizes only now.

If only his father could see him like this. He’d cast him off Olympus, a perfect mimic of what Hera had done thousands of years ago. It’s what Johnny would have deserved.

❀ ❀ ❀

The many messages he leaves on your voicemail remain unanswered. He knocks at your dorm often, but you never open, not a rustle is heard inside. Like a graveyard, there’s only the sound of the wind breezing through your apartment, no sign of life. Your phone doesn’t ring when he calls you from outside the dorm, as if you’re not there. Not home.

Nowhere near him.

Back to square one, Johnny loves you from a distance. His tears soak the blankets you used to lull yourself in, and he spends hours locked inside his room listening to the playlist you created.

In a morbid sense of longing, he even bought that type of vodka you like so much. The one that tastes like peppermint and makes him want to retch, even though you’re able to swallow it up like water. He’s always known you were an alcoholic. For once, Johnny wishes you were here, getting drunk alongside him.

No matter how much the liquor numbs his senses, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about you. Like a broken record, Johnny always ends up wondering how you are. If you feel a little better, even though Johnny stood you up.

Every night, he asks the stars for you. They never respond.

❀ ❀ ❀

Johnny doesn’t know what he’s doing here. There’s no sense to knocking at your door - you’d die before opening it willingly. After all, you had opened your heart to him, and look where that had gotten you.

He almost passes out in relief when your face appears in the doorway, tear tracks staining your face. “Have you come to torture me more?” you whisper, too afraid of your voice breaking. If you can’t even stop your heart from doing it, you’d like to atleast beware your voice. “Go ahead. Let’s see what kills me first, my broken heart or alcohol.”

“(y/n),” he breathes out, and the pain in his voice makes you flinch. It matches the one sitting in your chest, an exact replica. Distance wounded you both. “(y/n), I am the stupidest man alive and I am so sorry I left you standing in the rain back then. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“I’d like to know that, too,” you mumble. Your voice is bitter, but your hands reach to hold his. Is he imagining things, or are you actually tugging him inside right now? Is it wishful thinking? Is that it?

Your apartment looks like a mess, as always. A perfect mirror to your mind. Johnny used to tease you about it. Now, it just makes him feel worse, because he did that to you. “I need to say it,” he suddenly says. “I need you to know.”

“To know what?”

“I love you.”

The three magic words. Instant remedy to any kind of wound, no matter how old, no matter how deadly. You confuse Johnny by laughing, fresh tears running over the old traces on your cheeks.

“I know.” You tug at his shirt and force him down; your scent floods Johnny’s senses when you press your face against the column of his neck. Now you’re home. Right where you’re supposed to be. “Who the else would be patient enough to fix me? I’m a big, fat mess. I should’ve waited for you that day...”

“You should have beat my fucking ass,” Johnny curses, and then he finally kisses you. Like fire, his kiss devours, rampant heat frying your senses and jumpstarting your tired heart. The kiss is way too messy, teeth knocking against each other in a frenzy. This is what you needed - the undying, pure love Johnny provides you with. It’s what you’ve been longing for since the first time you set eyes on him, the very first time his puzzle pieces clicked into place inside you.

Johnny’s never tried to fix a heart before, but he’s also the one who knows yours inside out. It’s only right that he’s the one who puts it together piece by piece.

#idk if i like this #but here it is’ #seo youngho #seo johnny #johnny suh #nct 127 #seo youngho x reader #seo johnny x reader #johnny suh x reader #nct 127 x reader #seo youngho fluff #seo johnny fluff #johnny suh fluff #nct 127 fluff #seo youngho scenarios #seo johnny scenarios #johnny suh scenarios

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Just Leave

“Just leave then!”

One long three week stretch of rain, rain and nothing but more rain left you curled up whenever stopped hoping some semblance of warmth in huddling up out of the wind and rain under your cloak might help the glass grinding feeling in your joints. Most things you could handle but cold and wet never helped anybody and for you it seemed to make every muscle in your body burn sending you for heating pads over ice packs any time you did get hurt, which growing up was a lot. Yet being the youngest member of the Company and to the eyes of the equally as miserable, though far more vocal about it, Dwarf King again you were trying to push leaving later once again putting them just a hair behind schedule.

“What?” He replied in a whisper to your shrill shout revealing a hoarseness in your voice instantly sparking worry that an illness had been missed in the lone female of the group causing all the males to turn reevaluating their view on days past wondering if they had missed signs of curing you earlier.

“I said GO! I can hear you you know! Every night! Just lying in my leaking tent unable to sleep because I’m in so much pain, doing all I can to not be another female emotional mess on top of being useless and ‘deliberately usurping the swift endeavor to recover your birthright’ and to not cry to keep from being hormonal on top of it all to add more logs to the fire. I’m so sorry I’m not forged of stone and that I can’t slam through things like the rest of you. I can barely get up onto that horse with my muscles burning and glass grinding in my joints. I’m wet and I’m cold. Sorry I’ve been hindering you just burn that corkscrew of a contract and head off to keep your schedule, I’ll wander off my own way and leave my burial rituals to some scavenging animals no doubt less grateful to see my end than you would be.”

Open mouthed Thorin stared at you halfway wondering how he had missed all of this, mainly how their words had hurt you by the tears filling the eyes now aimed at the rock you had slept propped up against under the tent you shared with the Ri brothers and Bilbo. Arms crossed against your chest a shiver pitifully foiled only proved that even with five spare layers on already you were soaked and freezing in what seemed to be growing rain. The quiver of your lip did him in and down he sat on the rock behind him placing his hands on his knees absolutely lost on what to say. There was no fixing this clearly, no way to undo the damage their doubts had caused, deeply he sighed and to the best his Dwarf brain could manage he asked, “What might we adjust in your contract to fix this?”

Sharply his eyes flinched wider stunned at the sheer glare instantly making his stone heart thump hard for the alluring reaction to negotiating a contract young Dams could dare to give one day to a future suitor. “That’s what you took from that! Gold digging!” Fueled by rage painfully your hands planted on the rock to shove yourself up sending water flying from your shifting cloak mid turning step, “Just throw some gold at her, that’ll get her to shut up!” You muttered to yourself leaving him wide eyed and confused on his rock while Bilbo rubbed a hand over his face atop his pony assuming he would hear this later tonight in the tent while Balin shook his head to Dwalin’s head plopping into his empty saddle for missing your point.

To a convenient line of stones growing larger hard steps up to your horse nibbling on a plant growing out from between the larger two were taken to grip the knot in stepping into the stirrup. Away from the rocks your horse walked freezing you in place wide eyed a moment only luring Bifur to nudge his pony closer to grip your belt and lift fully realizing the pain in the formerly assumed mocking haphazard drag you did to get up onto the saddle not helping each clearly locked joint hindering the act. Stewing mentally you sat atop your horse already moving onwards with a few of the ponies following after wishing to simply get closer to whatever shelter came. Thorin when you were near to twenty feet away hurried up to mount his own pony walking off without him on top of which he lined up with his cousins wondering what changes to the contract might appease at least one of the issues you had named.

.

“Find the ponies!” Thorin’s shouts echoed over the sheets of hard rain while what they took to be distant threat of orcs having arrived just after finding the Troll hoard. Over his shoulder however he felt the heat of a flame passing by revealed to be a wine bottle with a flaming rag tucked into it. Straight into the face of a warg the bottle shattered lighting up the trio of beasts catching fire from the scattered droplets from the cocktail sending them racing off through the small troop of orc.

Blows had been traded and after being shoved into the hoard the hidden booze by you and Bilbo lit the battle for the Dwarves who didn’t require help seeing in the dark but loved the ease the cocktails sent the foes to split easing their downfall. “THORIN!” Wide eyed the Dwarf King’s hands rose to catch the massive cauldron you had used a makeshift slingshot to hurl his way open end facing him. Ready to shout at you his voice faltered seeing a jagged metal arm come through and lodge into the cauldron soon flung out of his grip by the white orc you had seen sneaking up on him.

Makeshift nets bound Fili and Kili up in the roots of a tree ending a try to ambush the lone white warg freeing them from the path of a crooked spear that crashed into the warg’s shoulder from two now fleeing from the beast now turned to chase after them. Pained grunts followed a sharp squeak luring eyes to your duck avoiding the cauldron Azog kicked off his metal arm causing a stream of blackened blood to spurt out of the stump. Turning to face his Nephews now cornered by the final gathering of orcs Thorin froze to the sound of a metal clash behind him in a body colliding with his smoke scented back. The flames having coated his Dwarf cloak fireproof by design matching each layer coating his men. A sharp sting in his back however had him groaning heavily and turning to find Bilbo covering his mouth to what was behind him.

Stepping forward the blade managing to pierce between two folds in his armored shirt and its detachable sleeve revealed it was barely an inch deep easing his turn to find you in Azog’s hold, off the ground feet pressed to the long sword’s hilt keeping it from pressing deeper into your lower ribs. Deliberately holding your breath trying to keep from injuring your lungs if you hadn’t already. Harsh and swift he flung his blade to the side sending you flying off into the dark cold mud. A quick patter of feet through the puddle filled path behind you found Bilbo racing to help, post throw of the final cocktail at the white warg’s face cloaking Azog in flames easing Thorin, Dwalin, Gloin and Bombur’s ambush turning him into a large dead pincushion sure to hack him to pieces ensuring he was dead.

“Miss Pear!” Squinting through the rain Ori was seen darting off towards your bent self lying back down on your back with legs sweeping out those of the pair of orcs trying to stab between your wiggles to avoid their long swords. War hammer borrowed from Dwalin in hand Ori took the head off of one while Bilbo stabbed into the back of a third he had been tussling with to knock his weapon away having hoped to reach you to cover your wound staining the puddle under you with your free flowing blood. Even on your back stabbing with a broken dagger you pulled from the hoard, abandoned for reason now evident from breaking at its first blow to the legs of the howling orc that abruptly feel to an arrow in its head.

“Elves!” Thorin muttered in the sudden sweep of Elves into the rain soaked battle ground taking out the remaining white warg and orcs. Focus however of the blonde among the group turned to Bilbo nearest to his horse now plopping to his knees beside the collapsed body in the mud. Open mouthed he watched a final struggle once you had turned over to climb at least onto your knees only to collapse into the muddy water pooling under you. Fisting your shirts Bilbo rolled you onto your side easing a coughing breath for you silencing any fight from the Dwarves seeing the blood staining the front and back of your shirts and thighs from a wound Ori had taken a book strap from his satchel he used to cut blood flow to the mystery source of the blood pool growing on your right leg. Handkerchief in hand Bilbo tried to stem the bleed on your chest luring the blonde to jump down lifting you into his arms to again mount his steed and race off towards the hidden Elven keep.

Hoof beats were lost to the rain the farther him and the two chasing him got and without argument the ponies were rounded and loaded up to ride with their regrettably Elven escort. Biting his inner lip Thorin scrubbed and changed grateful for cover and the chance for fires to ease the pain his protector had gained. While dinner was welcome the empty seat meant for their missing member cast a mournful mood over the men eyeing their empty plates. Grinning weakly Lord Elrond entered the dining hall luring all eyes to him when he said, “Your female companion should make a full recovery.”

Thorin asked, “Truly?”

Elrond nodded taking his seat, “Yes, it is not often a blade through the ribs could be, however the angle was lucky avoiding the lungs. Medicine was given to counter the poisoned oil coating the blade that caused the gash on her thigh, also quite inconvenient though far from troubling once it is healed.” Laying his napkin across his lap he stated, “How one so young managed against Spreading Frost Sickness is beyond our comprehension, from what young Mr Baggins has stated you have faced near to a month of rains and frigid temperatures.”

“Spreading Frost Sickness?” Balin asked.

Elrond nodded, “Yes, our Numenor kin face it, thankfully it is not beyond recovery stages, already medicines have been issued to cure it.”

Thorin wet his lips asking, “How debilitating is the sickness?”

Elrond replied, “Three years is the life expectancy once contracted, within a year most are reduced to full bed rest losing more control of movement while they wither.”

Thorin swallowed and lowered his gaze to the salad being set before him, “Has she eaten?”

Elrond, “No, not yet. Resting, sleep tonics were given to encourage much needed time to heal.”

.

Rest, nothing but rest and pitying gazes sent your way filled your days with each member of the Company between quieter times with the Elves come to coat your wounds with more creams and change your bandages. Stirring curious glimpses to the piercing on your naval and tattoo on your right ribcage. A white owl seated in ruby, purple and green curled vines forming a lopsided heart around it in a sea of twinkling stars bright in a blue and black night sky fading to fluffy white and grey clouds below on your side swirling around an elegant compass surrounded by purple doodles of bunnies formed from the clouds bounding or walking around to complete your side piece ending at your hip. An odd jumble but no less beautiful stirring wonder as to how painful it was or the process for the artwork itself several had come to confirm was actually moving. The naval piercing however had a semi known meaning for Dwarves at least, a marker of a wait for your One to have a family that male and female got equally along with other piercings that all held their own meanings.

Sad to see however through where the gash on your thigh had landed disturbed a pink trail of bunny footprints flowing down from the side piece above, half the ink already fading for the choice of color for the work so no damage done on your part knowing you could have always picked something else later. Possibly another bunny themed piece to go with the jackalope outline in grey on your left forearm you’d yet to complete sitting still until you did so. Now however things were different and even though you had an endless supply of ink and your enchanted kit here to continue your dream of owning a tattoo shop there was no assurance of getting customers as the only Dwarves you knew wouldn’t trust you with pitching a tent let alone tattooing one of them. From your bag that had been among your other things formerly in your moving van now a bottomless carpet bag a sketch book had been brought out for you to keep busy now littered with portraits of those new faces you had come into contact with.

All the while trying to work out what was coming in your mind. You had read the books and had hoped for something different. Smaug was waiting with a sickness behind him to spoil the victory of the Dwarf King. You had to fix it, save the idiotic jerk no doubt planning to break your contract and leave you behind. All the same asleep again your book was left open with a sketch of the Company around a fire laughing and talking before the rains came that once Thorin’s solemn stare over you was complete Balin had turned their focus to your book he took hold of along with the pencil between your fingers. Both eased gently out from under your hand they glanced at you in a slumbering shift moving your arms to lay over your belly with the other now draped above your head revealing the tattoo none had seen up close before.

Each sketch and scene was admired along with a few pages of ideas for coloring on your now visible tattoo. All varying from moving to not bubbling up their curiosity if you were a Wizard too and just hadn’t said so. Balin murmured, “A skin painter,” in awe of your skills knowing most of theirs were lost to Smaug in his attack, a highly prized role in their culture aiding in marking special events to wear with pride.

Thorin murmured as he lifted the jumbled blanket over you to your shoulders, “Perhaps we might be able to persuade Miss Pear to remain in Erebor and aid our kin with their markers. A lovely addition to our contract no doubt. No wonder she took to staring at Dwalin’s hands while he sharpened his blades near her.”

Balin, “For now at least, perhaps we might slip back to helping with the surprise.” Gently closing your book he set on the bedside table with your pencil before turning to leave pretending not to notice Thorin’s stolen glance back to you as you rolled grumbling onto your side to nestle under the covers into the pillows even more.

Back to the group they went joining in on the surprise party they were throwing you. An off the cuff remark from Bilbo on his birthday he forgot he’d promised to make his mother’s famous apple turnovers when you’d chanced upon a grove of apple trees past Bree had your own birthday mentioned stirring up a conversation of traditions for the occasion. Apples were gathered and Bilbo beamed being able to have control of the kitchens to make his famous treats for the occasion while Bombur and Nori delved into making a lovely cake.

.

Shifting onto your back one grumble from you came in the cracking of your eyes. Groggily to the edge of the bed you inched and taking hold of the cane left there you stood and crossed the room to the private bath. The gash was mainly closed but to begin putting weight on the leg with badly bruised muscles through the thigh that would take a few days at least more to walk without any irritation. Once through out you walked glancing around not wishing to head back to bed just yet, steadily with your cane you crept into the hall and glanced around the corner of the city that was in view by the open courtyards and walkways. Two steps later and you decided to turn right, following the path to what turned out to be a balcony overlooking a set of fountains over several levels of the city feeding into the one below fed clearly in a turn of your head by a small waterfall from the cliffs above the chasm this city was carved from.

Resting a hand on the marble banister in a lift onto your toes a peering glance to your left gave you a view of distant gardens. Right in front of you a flock of birds passed and turning around with a grin you watched them fly, in their loop around a pillar you followed assuming that they were waiting on you from their second and third loops. Past these halls down a set of steps you eased finding an open garden around another large fountain and a stream filled with ducklings. Pulsing pains in your leg took you to a bench that you lowered onto, softly you exhaled resting your cane against your shoulder between your legs that to a tune in your head your fingers tapped.

“I had not guessed for explorations to occur for at least another day.” Turning your head you couldn’t help but smirk looking over the serious Elf looking down at you.

“Well the birds led me here. You wouldn’t be Lord Elrond, would you?”

Making him smirk as well and step closer gathering his outer robe to sit beside you. “I am.” Looking you over he asked, “You are feeling well? Up for adventure it seems.”

“Yes, thank you, for having me, and helping me. I know it must have been quite off putting.”

“I must say, your wounds were quite astounding. Not many are stabbed through the ribs and live to tell about it. As for your markings in your skin, they are unlike any I have seen. My kin are quite curious how they move on your skin.”

“Oh, magic, back in my old world sketches and even tattoos can move, quite a simple enchantment really. I was a tattoo artist, how I kept food on the table.”

To the sinking of your grin he stated in a tilt of his head, “What is ailing you? Do you miss your home?”

“No,” shaking your head you said, “I had custody of my baby brother, he died last year. I miss him, not the places.”

“How did he die?”

“He got sick, there wasn’t anything the Doctors could do.” Again you shook your head as a tear fell down your cheek luring his hand to fold over your lower arm for a comforting moment.

“I lost my brother as well. I know the pain. You lost your parents as well?”

“They died about ten years ago, just left one day, found out they went to the grand canyon and just, jumped. The state wanted to take my brother but I got a job at the town tattoo parlor helping with sketches and cleaning up until I was seventeen and I could get my license to tattoo and bring in more money for the both of us. Made sure kept to his studies and one day he just couldn’t get out of bed, he died a week later.”

“Should you wish it you will always be welcome here.”

Grinning at him you replied, “Thank you. Wouldn’t expect less from the last homely house in the East.” That had his brow arching up to the curious term used mainly by Elves and Wizards who had known the Undying Lands. “I’ve read about you, and this place, truly is beautiful, much better than the books say.” After a moment you added, “I’m sorry too, that your mom is a bird and your dad is flying a ship and never comes to visit you,” making him smirk again. “Must be hard to explain to your kids without sounding crazy. Then I can imagine them trying to make wings from blankets saying Gran could fly why can’t we.” Luring a chuckle from the Lord recounting instances just like that from his trio’s youths.

“That and my sons, both asking if they shone bright enough, there is a star named after my Ada.”

“Yes,” you said with a nod, “In the vial thing Galadriel has, she’s bottled some of it.” Making his lips part, “In the book she gives it to Bilbo’s Nephew slash Cousin when he goes to destroy the One Ring.” Stiffening the Lord even more.

“Books speak of this? The location of the One Ring?”

“There’s a Goblin Town not far from here, Gollum lives there, he’s River Folk? Something close to a Hobbit, had it for five hundred years now I think. He lives in the caves below them. Stone Giants are in the pass leading up to a hidden trap entrance to Goblin Town.”

Elrond lowly asked, “Were I to escort you to their lands might you be able to aid us in locating it? Once you are recovered, I mean.”

“Sure, the book is a bit vague on the location, but I can give it a go.”

“Thank you, truly. Locating the One Ring-,”

“Could change everything, I know. Save so many lives too.”

“For now, perhaps allow us to show you through Imladris, all the best parts,” his hand motioned towards an Elleth with a wicker wheelchair that he helped you up to walk over and lower into. Crouched down he eased both legs onto the foot rest, taking hold of your cane settled in the holder on the back in his first step at your side to show you the way.

.

“There you are!” All of the Company were there in your room smiling at your return from a simple tour and not having required more healing from a further unnoticed injury or illness.

Straight across your birthday cake between the lit candles your eyes landed on Thorin chuckling to a joke his Nephews were sharing to him filling his glass with more wine. Birthday wishes were sacred, everyone knew that, and just maybe, you could change things for the better. One deep breath and a blow doused the flames with cheers from the Company all wondering what you might have wished for.

…

Another week was all it took and behind Glorfindel you rode to the edge of the Stone Giant lands. In the middle of him and Elrond the pair curious about your reasoning to go with only two of you a tug of your sleeves came before you reached into the pouch in your pocket flinging out a large intricately embroidered cloak that in draping over your arm had their mouths dropping open as it vanished. “Invisibility cloak.” Around the three of you it expanded blanketing you all upon finding a hidden doorway, “Just remember, it won’t muffle our voices.” Quietly through the maze of the Goblin city behind your jean, sweater and boot clad self after the refusal to wear armor over your still slightly sore muscles hoping to not be slowed down.

Miles it seemed you searched between Goblins milling about only to pause with eyes nearly crossing at a puff of perfume in a dispenser one of the Goblins had been inspecting had your hands shifting to pinch your nose. Silently you cast a muffling charm and wide eyed the Lords peered down at you when you sneezed not once but three times. Subtly they gripped the hilts of their blades only to notice the Goblins rubbing their ears and shaking their heads complaining about a buzzing sound. “Sorry,” you whispered, “Remembered the muffling charm though, so, good news,” again you sneezed making the pair shake their heads through momentary grins and join you back to exploring.

One odd dark dip in the path and the duo turned to look with you curious about the path they turned you all to explore. Darkness to a haphazard empty path led to ragged echoes of breathing making you clench a hand onto Elrond’s belt shifting rocks under foot halted the breathing. Down your gaze went luring the pair with you in crouching making their mouths drop open at the golden ring lying in the mud. Carefully into a mint tin you used a dagger from Elrond’s boot to shift then pocket it, sheathing his dagger again you stood seeing a pair of glowing blue eyes peering over a rock. Wetting your lips the pair eyed your hands laid on their elbows, “We need to go,” before they could speak up to the ledge you aparated making them look around in confusion at being under the warm bright sun again. “Sorry, he really creeps me out in the books.”

Glorfindel asked lowering the cloak from his head, “How did you do that?”

“Magic, but I can only go where I’ve been to know where I’m going to land.” To the cloak folding up again in your arms the horses moved closer from their nibbling on some odd foliage on the side of one of the cliffs eager to head home again.

Elrond spoke up after clearing his throat, “Let us return then, and make our plans from there.”

“Well, if you don’t mind I have a few ideas myself.” With a grin you reached up to his shoulders before his hands lifted you up onto the horse behind Glorfindel. Hastily back you rode to the waiting group of guards just outside the cliffs smiling to themselves noticing the successful glimmer in the Lords’ eyes along with their unharmed selves making them all the more thankful their guide had survived that brutal attack to gain this upper hand the allied forces now held.

.

Shoulder deep in your bag while around the desk in Elrond’s study the Lords conversed on possible plans a family heirloom was found and blindly lifted, upright in your room you smirked eyeing the basilisk venom infused long sword encrusted with emeralds. Straight to the open courtyard you walked taking the mint tin out of your pocket that one handedly you opened dumping it and the last three mints out with it onto the stone pedestal in the center. The hiss of the ring had the duo conferencing pause and turn for Elrond to say, “Miss Pear, no weapon can wound that ring!”

The glint of light reflecting off the sword lured the awed Dwarves in to get a look at the stunning weapon to your saying, “I don’t intend to wound it,” Mouths dropped open when you lifted the sword with both hands bringing it down heavily into the hissing ring. Hastily the Lords hurried to the courtyard in the retraction of the sword from the stunningly halved ring that a shrill shriek escaped from making you mutter, “Oh shit,” dropping your sword you knew what was coming and you weren’t fast enough to think of a spell to avoid it. One large pulse and off you alone flew from the dissipating plume of black ooze levitating from the ring crumbling to dust. Wide eyed Fili and Kili were closest, rushing off the open ledge the courtyard was on leaping into the air to fold around you clinging tightly to cushion your fall. Rushing water was what you three ran into, a waterfall that post collision to the rock wall behind it down you three plummeted into the raging river it fed into.

Unable to fight the currents far above Elves had already raced to what they would be ordered to, closing the gate doors inside the currents that you three hit and clung to coughing while the plank ledge was lowered by pulley systems above the arch the gate sat in. Whistles and shouts turned the three of you around to kick off the gate bars to fold your arms around the ledge huffing out, “Now I’m wet.”

Unable to help it Fili chortled pressing his forehead into the wood a moment as Kili said, “Not bad of a ride.” Hoisting himself up signaling Fili to do the same.

They both looked at you in your lip biting try to tug yourself up only feeling your pants slipping down in their move to help you up, “I apologize for the butt, my pants are slipping.” Chuckling to themselves they took hold of your arms helping you up noticing the colorful tattoos on your side along with the white scar of where the sword had exited your back.

Gripping your jeans the waistline was inched up and you sighed seeing how thin the plank ledge was only to grip the edges when Fili caused it to sway in trying to stand up, muttering himself in a belly flop to grip it, “Crawl it is.” Up onto all fours again he led the crawl to the end where a group of Elves helped you all up. Together straightening your clothes to walk you all back to the courtyard filled with the Dwarves relaxed at word you were safely being escorted back no more than wet with your sturdy Dwarf cushions assuring you they had fallen harder and farther growing up with even flashes of their backs proving they weren’t even bruised.

Kili asked looking you over, “Were you expecting the blast?”

“Honestly, kinda forgot about the blast.” Wringing out your tightening braid with curls wishing to spring free now they had soaked up so much water sure to take all day to dry on its own.

Fili, “How could you?”

“Well you don’t see very many horcrux to know the process well to plan ahead for a blast blocking spell.”

Kili, “They have those?”

“Yes, and I am actually quite skilled in charms, however, on the spot, I tend to be spotty with my memory.”

.

“Where did you purchase this sword?” Thorin rumbled once you came into view again wringing out your braid.

“Family heirloom.” His brows inched up shifting the blade resting across his raised hands with an impressed grin.

Gloin, “Must have cost a fortune.”

“Well it’s Goblin made,” that had all eyes on you, “Our Goblins were different than yours, about two feet tall and able to tell real treasure from fakes by looking at it. Mainly run our banks and antique shops now focusing on their skills.”

Oin, “No doubt your Dwarves must be jealous to have lost your service.”

“No Dwarves,” that had another look your way, “Well not like you, dwarves there are people under three feet, more a disfigurement not a race like here, but it wasn’t bought, the one gifted with the sword saved a Goblin’s life and was gifted that, they hate life debts. Absolutely hate them. And Goblin made items are priceless.”

Dwalin, “These gems alone could boast that, even in a silver sword.”

Thorin flicked his hands upwards turning the blade over smirking at the weight, “For this size it is quite lightweight.”

“Well it’s absorbed Essence of Cloud,” lifting his gaze, “along with Basilisk venom, useful on Horcrux.”

Elrond, “Horcrux and Essence of Cloud?”

“Horcrux, when you take a piece of your soul to hide in an object to be immortal, your body can die but the soul lives on. Essence of Cloud makes things lighter, so if I were to drop it also it will float back to the wielder it remains loyal to however it does tend to spark up when storms roll in.” That had his brow arch up, “Like lightning, but only for big storms, like trees torn out of the ground big.”

Glorfindel, “We have yet to face a storm of that caliber.”

“Yes but your trees seem to be a mile wide, I think the largest tree I’d seen there was maybe thirty feet tall, and that might be exaggerated because I was five at the time. There were only four trees in our city all about your height.”

Glorfindel, “How can you survive without trees to protect your village?”

“Um, I don’t know how to answer that.”

Ori, “You must dwell in mountains then!”

“No, no mountains on our island, we have hills, but no one lives in them, the ground shifts and they tend to collapse.” The Dwarves blinked again and you said, “Again, no magical Dwarves live there, just people. Even Wizards have their limits, you don’t mess with mountains.”

Nori, “I am afraid to ask why.”

“Well, the last time a Wizard tried to turn a mountain into a school it sank the entire island,”

Dori, “Ah,”

“But not how you would think, he messed up the spell and brought the mountain to life which began a rampage to eat everyone and everything eventually breaking the faults in the land that just gave in starting to erode with how heavy a mountain is.”

Bofur, “What happened to the mountain?”

“Oh, it took about forty Wizards to blast it apart covering the island that started to sink or it could have gone to other islands too.”

Elrond said, “For now, perhaps it is best we allow you to dry off and the questioning may continue over a meal.”

Pt 2

All –

@himoverflowers​​​, @theincaprincess​​​, @aspiringtranslator​​​, @sweeticedtea​​​, @thegreyberet​​​, @patanghill17​​​, @jesgisborne​​​, @curvestrology​​​, @alishlieb​​​, @jogregor​​​, @armitageadoration​​​, @fizzyxcustard​​​, @here2have-fun​​​, @lilith15000​​​, @marvels-ghost​​​, @catthefearless​​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​​, @c-s-stars​​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​​, @mariannetora​​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​​, @ggbbhehe4455

 Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​​, @jotink78​​, @pastelhexmaniac​​

x Thorin – @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun​​, @queenoferebor​​

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Fallen to Middle Earth

[peteywillproceed]

Photobooths

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Thank you so so much for all the support on Kiss Me! That was my first post on here and I was so nervous :) I’ve had this idea stuck in my head since Youth by Troye Sivan came out, but I never actually finished it (yay for drafts!) Still don’t really know what it is, but anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy it x

Summary:  “When the lights start flashing like a photobooth, and the stars exploding, we’ll be fireproof” - You and Tom have been friends for years, even if you have been keeping your feelings a secret. Sometimes all it takes is being drunk off your ass to finally get the answers you didn’t know you needed...

Word Count: 3,150

The camera clicked and you were blinded, the silly moustache Tom had stuck on your upper lip falling half-way across your mouth as the heat from the lights made you sweat. It was cramped in there, the faded black seat cracked and peeling and the touch screen photo selector taking ages to register your choice. You hadn’t been in a photobooth in years, too smelly, too dirty, too boring. But the alcohol coursing through your body had made short work of any reservations you may have had, too intoxicated by the boy tugging you towards it to care.

“I want the beer goggles too, Y/n,” Tom whined beside you, reaching up to tug them from your eyes. You glanced sideways, swaying in your seat and steadying yourself against his shoulder.

“Take ‘em them,” you mumbled, smiling as he practically snatched them from your head and shoved them over his eyes.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

You giggled, too drunk on alcohol and his presence to care. “It’s your party, dipshit.”

You’d known Tom since year 10, and you’d lived with him whilst you were at Uni, grateful for the rent-free place whilst you were broke. You didn’t know when your feelings for Tom had changed, all you knew was you’d woken up one day and wandered into the kitchen, following the smell of pancakes and bacon. And bam, there he was, shirtless over the oven, towel flipped over his shoulder and sending you a slow grin like he’d planned it all. You were pretty sure that was the day everything had changed, but honestly it could’ve been years ago.

You giggled as the screen slowly counted backwards from three, feeling like you were floating far up in the sky. Tom might have asked you to pull a stupid face, but you were so concentrated on the way his lips were moving that you barely registered it. His hands slid into your hair, threading through the strands and made a peace sign behind the back of your head. You scrunched your nose up and dragged the bright pink feather boa over your mouth, pouting in a drunken attempt to look sexy.

“What are you doing?” Tom laughed as the camera clicked and you were dazzled by the lights again.

“Lookin’ sexayyyyyy,” you threw your hands in the air, frowning at the screen “We only have one more picture left!”

Tom licked his lips, trying to meet your eyes. “Guess we’d better make it special one, then.”

If you’d been sober enough to catch the double meaning, maybe you would have been prepared for what came next. But as the camera started counting down for its final shot, Tom grabbed your chin and turned you towards him, pressing his lips gently against yours just as the click rang in your ears.

For a second, you thought about nothing but the way his lips were moving on yours, the sheer fire that snapped you out of your drunkenness and spread over your skin. You shivered as he cupped your cheek, sure the photo had been taken, but the noise of the party outside had faded and it was just the two of you, your lips moving in time to whatever music was blaring through the speakers.

A strange sensation came over you, the photobooth and Tom’s face beginning to spin, and you jerked backwards at the feeling.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I um…I don’t know where that came from,” Tom stammered, wiping his palms against his jeans.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t him, but blackness was appearing at the corner of your eyes, begging you to fall into the void that awaited. You could see Tom’s mouth moving, desperation crawling into his face, and you tried so hard to make your own form the words you wanted to say. But the tiredness was overwhelming, and soon you were falling into nothing, barely noticing when your head hit the floor of the booth, and Tom crouched over you in panic.

***

The next morning, your eyes opened to a dim room and the scent of caffeine wafting up your nose. Groaning, you tried to sit up, grabbing your head as it began to throb. Dribble ran down one side of your cheek and your hair stood on ends, but as you rubbed your eyes and allowed them to focus, the steaming mug of coffee and two advil tablets placed carefully on the side table drew a smile from you.

You leaned over and choked back the tablets, taking a gulp of the black liquid and savouring it on your tongue. You tried to think back through the mist and fog of last night, remembering basically everything up until you’d gone in that stupid photobooth with Tom. God, you didn’t know why you’d done that, but he’d seemed so excited and it was a chance for you two to be alone, something you hadn’t had in months. You’d have been lying if you’d said you didn’t enjoy the proximity.

“Morning sleepy head,” a familiar, velvety voice whispered.

Looking up, your eyes found Tom’s, and you groaned at the noise. “What time is it?”

“One in the afternoon,” he looked over his shoulder and laughed as he strode towards the curtains and threw them open. “Time to get up.”

“Ugh, Satan,” you mumbled, crashing back into the soft duvet.

“Y’know, I took the day off to keep an eye on you, the least you could do is not compare me to the King of Hell.”

“Sorry, your majesty.”

“Better.”

“Wait you took the day off today?” You frowned, running your fingers through your hair.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You were drunk off your arse and I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, scratching the back of his head. Bizarrely, he kept shifting from foot to foot, like he was trying to decide whether or not to sit down.

“The bed’s not made of lava, y’know,” you blinked, patting the space next to you “you can sit down.”

He nodded, still not moving, rubbing the side of his face as your confusion grew. “Y/n, I think we should talk about last night.”

“Last night? I don’t remember most of it,” you brought the coffee cup to your lips and took another gulp, eyes never leaving Tom’s. “Why? Did something happen?”

Tom’s eyes widened as he moved to sit next to you, a frown appearing on his face. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Nope, sorry,” you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders as you ran a fingertip around the rim of the mug. “Is there something I should remember?”

You started racking your brain, wondering if he’d told you something you should have remembered or pointed someone out to you. If you were being honest, the most you remembered of the night was drowning in his eyes and paying no attention to any of the songs the rather terrible DJ was playing. You tried not to think about how he’d looked in that suit, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and the burgundy jacket that showed off his arms. Right now, he was in his pyjamas, slung loosely at the hips and barely concealing what you knew was there – you couldn’t decide which look you preferred.

Tom looked at you for a long moment, something that looked like pain dancing behind his eyes. You bit your lip and cocked your head, wondering whether someone had said something to him and you’d forgotten. “Shit, Tom, was something said?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he blurted, sighing audibly. “It doesn’t matter, just forget it.”

“Are you sure?” You raised an eyebrow, convinced you were missing something. “Something’s not right.”

“Nah, I’m cool, don’t worry about it,” Tom shrugged, and started to walk towards the door.

“Do you wanna get dressed and go catch a movie? You never have a day off, you shouldn’t have to spend it looking after me.” Maybe you were trying too hard, but the little pinch at the top of his brow made your heart hurt, and all you wanted to do was reach out and smooth it over. And preferably punch whoever had been there in the first place.

He shook his head. “No, I think I’m just gonna go to work.”

“But you took the day off!”

“There’s always something to do,” he laughed, the sound hollow and sad.

“Okay…” you nodded, the coffee cup shaking in your hand. “If you’re…if you’re sure.”

With a final nod, he turned and disappeared from your room, leaving you staring after his retreating back. Whatever had happened there, you wished you could have made it better. Maybe if you could remember what he meant, you’d be able to put the pieces back together and stitch up his clearly broken heart. Seeing Tom upset was like losing a piece of yourself, and until he was fixed you’d be constantly searching for a way to cheer him up.

Half an hour later, you heard the front door slam and the distant sound of his feet ringing on the steps as he left. For some reason, you felt empty, like when he left he took a piece of you with him. All you wanted to do was curl back up in the bed and fall asleep, but it was no use staying cooped up here if there was nothing to do. Sighing, you got to your feet and grabbed your hairbrush, shrieking when you saw the state it was in.

No wonder Tom had practically run away, you had a bird’s nest on your head.

***

Three Months Later

“Tom?” you called out, kicking the front door shut with your foot. “Can you help me?” Grocery bags were piled high in your hands, oranges spilling on the floor as you struggled into the kitchen.

“Here love, let me,” he swept in and gathered the three heaviest ones into his arms. “Harry’s here by the way.”

“Hi Harry,” you yelled “are you the one eating all my chocolate digestives?”

“nrgrnej,” Harry mumbled, stepping into the kitchen with half a biscuit hanging out of his mouth.

“Typical!”

“Can’t help it they’re so delicious,” he shrugged, looking at you with his hands raised.

Laughing, you shook your head and waved your hand in the direction of the bags. “As payment, you can pack those away.”

“Yes, sir!”

You walked into the living room, expecting the bomb that followed Harry everywhere to have crash landed in there too. Sure enough, pillows and blankets were strewn everywhere, the telly was blaring and biscuit crumbs were scattered everywhere, crunching beneath your feet as you stepped into the room.

You couldn’t help the eyeroll that followed, starting the clean up job that would otherwise have taken hours later on. Every so often, you’d come across one of Tom’s socks or a pen he had chewed on whilst making notes on a script, and you smiled at how tidy he was. As you started to finish up and the boys packed away the final can of peas, you noticed Tom’s script thrown on the floor, the bookmark he’d been using turned face up against the grey carpet.

Gingerly, you picked the script up and tucked your finger in the page he’d been reading, then flipped the bookmark over. You smiled as you realised these were the pictures you’d taken in that photobooth all those months ago, probably too drunk to remember to pick them up. But Tom had remembered, like he always did, and a slow grin crept across your face as your eyes trailed across the photos, tracing memories you didn’t know you had.

Until the last one.

The last one you couldn’t remember, but it was clearly there, in black and white, staring you in the face. Your lips on Tom’s. Tom’s lips on yours. And suddenly everything he’d said the morning after, how he’d wanted to talk to you and the hurt look on his face when you said you couldn’t remember anything, came shooting back all at once. You took in a deep breath, hearing noises at the door, and looked up with tears in your eyes.

“Y/n?” Tom said, panic lacing his voice “What’s wrong?”

He ran his eyes over you, freezing as he finally saw what you were holding. You held it out in a trembling hand, lips shaking as you asked him what it was.

“I think I better go,” Harry mumbled, turning for the door. “I’ll call you later mate.”

Tom didn’t reply, still not breaking your gaze and for the first time in the entire time you’d known him, you didn’t have a fucking clue what was going through his mind.

“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he stammered.

“Why not?” Your voice was barely a whisper, the image of what you had wanted so desperately for years still seared into your mind. How could you have forgotten something like that? Something so cataclysmic and beautiful? You’d kissed Tom – and you had forgotten.

“You said you couldn’t remember…I figured you didn’t like it.”

“I was drunk, you idiot!” You hissed, waving the piece of paper in his face “I definitely wanted to know this happened.”

“But why?” he asked, and you stared at him like he was insane until he clarified. “You didn’t remember it, and you passed out before we could talk about what it meant. And in the morning, when you couldn’t remember, I figured maybe you’d just supressed it, and you didn’t want to think about it.”

Your mouth dropped open, thinking about how all this time the man you were in love with had thought you didn’t want to remember your kiss. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

“You really thought I wanted to forget that?”

“Didn’t you?”

“NO! Oh my God, you are blind!” you groaned, dropping the strip of photos. It fluttered to the floor between you, the chasm of space feeling miles across yet only centimetres deep. “I’m freaking in love with you Tom, I’ve been in love with you for years, I didn’t want to forget that!”

His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth kept moving like he wanted to say something. But you were done with wondering whether he felt the same; you’d kissed and now you felt like you could finally let it all out, what you’d bottled up since that day with the pancakes. What only his mum had heard when she’d found you crying on the kitchen floor the day Tom announced he was seeing someone new. What you’d scribbled about ferociously in diary upon diary, convinced you were stupid and he would never see you the same way.

You were done with the pretending, had been for years, and now was your chance to finally say what you’d only thought about in your dreams.

“I fall asleep at night and I think about you, I wake up and you’re the first person I want to see. When you go away filming I sneak into your room and fall asleep there because it’s the only place that smells like you. I’ve spent hours crying over you, sounding pathetic because I was too scared to tell you how I felt. And then this happens, and you don’t tell me about the one thing that could have changed everything! I had to find out through some stupid photo that you didn’t even mean for me to see!”

By the time you were finished, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were panting with exhaustion, relief washing over you as you finally let go of the deepest secret you’d ever had. Tom said nothing, his mouth parted in shock, and you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, wishing you could just fall through the floor and never come back.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around you, gently pulling you into a hug so tight you could hardly breathe. His breathing stuttered against you, and you pulled away so that you were looking him in the eye, your faces only inches from touching. Exactly like that night in the photobooth, only now you could remember every part of this. And you would for years to come.

“I didn’t know that,” Tom’s voice cracked, and your heart broke at the desperation slipping through his lips. “I didn’t know you felt like I did.”

“Like you did?” Your breathing stopped, and you didn’t dare believe you’d heard him right.

Taking a deep breath, Tom gripped your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye, all the bravado stripped back until he was just Tom. Your Tom. “Y/n L/n, I have loved you since the day I met you. Since the day you walked into that classroom, and I haven’t looked back. I never thought you felt the same, and I kept it bottled up for years. For a while, I thought I was over you, but my mum reminded me that love isn’t something that can fade just because you have a replacement.”

“If I could have anyone, I’d still choose you. I’d still choose your stinky morning breath and bed head, the way you can’t cook and the way you can’t stand tomatoes on your sandwich but you love ketchup. I’d choose your body and your mind, you heart and your soul, because you have meant everything to me since the day you first sat next to me in class, and I haven’t seen anything as beautiful since.”

You blinked, barely able to absorb the words let alone process them. You’d dreamed of him saying these words for years, and yet now that you were finally hearing them, it felt less romantic than it was sad.

“You’ve loved me too? All this time?” you choked, letting the realisation wash over you.

“All this time, and more too,” Tom replied, his voice low and thick with emotion.

“And that night in the photobooth?”

You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer. For once, your future was out of your hands, and it lay in the balance of a boy you had loved in private for years. You were quite literally on a knife’s edge, and whichever way you fell you had to hope there was someone to catch you.

“That night in the photobooth was the greatest decision I ever made,” Tom replied. “You’re the greatest decision I ever made.”

Maybe you would’ve heard what he was going to say next, but you no longer cared as you flung yourself towards him and let your lips collide. As electricity sparked against your skin, you found yourself slipping once more into the dark abyss, but this time you were ready. This time the only thing you were drunk on was the scent of Tom – and this time, you were never letting go.

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #fluff #angst #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #peter parker fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction