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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 10: Treat Me Gently

Summary: You and Price take your relationship to the next level. It might be the best decision you've ever made.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral, first time sex, unprotected(ish) sex, reader has an implant, creampie, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, the author is a bit rusty writing smut.

A/N: It's finally here. It's finally arrived, the moment we've all been waiting for! Uh, yeah, it's mostly badly written smut with just a little plot thrown in there. So...I hope you enjoy!

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Your attention is pulled from your book as the couch sinks on either side of you, two bodies joining you. You glance up from your book as an arm drapes itself across the back of the couch behind you. Your eyes flicker between Gaz and Johnny, mischievous grins on their faces.

“We heard you have a date this weekend.” Gaz says, leaning in closer.

Your face warms at his words. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a date...”

“What are you wearing?” Gaz asks.

“Do ye have anythin’ to wear?” Johnny asks.

Their questions give you pause. The most formal thing you have are jeans and, though you doubt Price would care if you showed up in sweatpants, you would like to have something nice to wear.

“Come on.” Gaz says, slapping your thigh before standing. “We’re going shopping.”

“What?” You glance between him and Johnny as they stand over you.

“Already got permission from Price.” Johnny says. “So come on.” He grabs your hands, lifting you to your feet easily. “Let’s get goin’, kitten.”

Your cheeks warm at the pet name, Johnny’s hand settling on your lower back to steer you from the rec room. You don’t have much of a choice but to follow, grabbing a couple things from your room before you leave the barracks with them to a car parked outside. It’s different from the car you and Price had taken to town last weekend. Of course, they probably all have their own vehicles, or at least a few at their disposal.

“I’m driving.” Gaz says, plucking the keys from Johnny’s hand.

“Aww, ye never let me drive!” Johnny pouts.

“Yeah, because with our luck you’ll traumatize her so badly, she’ll never want to leave again.” Gaz says, opening the driver’s side door.

You can’t help but giggle at the dejected look on Johnny’s face as you get into the back, Johnny muttering the entire way to the passenger side.

“I’m no’ that bad of a driver.” Johnny says, buckling his seatbelt.

“Yeah, but both you and Simon seem to be in agreement that the speed limit is a suggestion, not a law.” Gaz says as he turns on the car. “I’d like to make it there and back in one piece, thank you. Besides, Price would have both our heads if anything happened to our girl on our watch.”

Your cheeks warm as you meet Gaz's gaze through the rear view mirror. Your heart flutters at the look in his eyes, the dedication and protectiveness shining in them.

“I wouldnae let anything happen to ye.” Johnny says, reaching back to squeeze your knee for a moment.

You stare out the window of the car as Gaz drives towards town, half listening to the conversation in the front seat. You're beginning to recognize landmarks, buildings, areas between the base and town despite it only being your second trip. They'd be proud of you, you think. At least if something happened, you'd be able to give a landmark.

The farmlands fade into the city and soon Gaz is parking on the street in front of a shop. You take Gaz's hand as he helps you out of the car, lacing your fingers together. Soap holds the door to the shop open, letting you and Gaz walk through first.

It's a nice boutique filled with all sorts of formal wear. You wonder how they even knew about this place, or if they had done some research beforehand. Both make you feel honored that they would even go to those lengths just for you.

They are going to be your pack soon.

Packs do this sort of thing for each other. They take care of each other, spoil each other, make each other happy. It’s hard to be a good pack if one member is unhappy.

“Good afternoon.” One of the workers approaches you. “My name is Emily. Is there something I can help you find today?”

“Our omega has a date with our alpha this weekend.” Gaz says, smiling down at you. “She needs something to wear.”

The worker, Emily, smiles at you. “How exciting! Did you have anything in mind? Style, color, anything like that?”

“Probably nothing too fancy,” You say, eyeing the racks. “And, probably a dress.”

“Alright, we've got lots of options for that. Let's take a look and you can try some on.” Emily says.

Gaz keeps hold of your hand as you follow Emily through the racks, looking at some of the options. Johnny goes off on his own, perusing the racks himself.

“Is there a certain color you have in mind?” Emily asks you.

You hum in contemplation, looking at the many racks. You're not sure what color Price would like, or if he even has a favorite.

“His favorite color is blue, like a dark navy blue.” Johnny answers for you. “Though, I think he'd like you in any color.”

You can't help the way your cheeks warm a bit at Johnny's words. You realize you don't even know their favorite colors. There's still so much about them that's a mystery to you.

“What's your favorite color?” You ask, looking up at Gaz.

“I don't think I have just one.” He says, running his hand over a sequin covered dress on the rack in front of you “I like warm colors. Reds, oranges, purples.”

“Like a sunset.” You say, looking at a tag on one of the dresses, nearly choking at the price.

Gaz gently removes the tag from your hand, giving you a look as you meet his gaze. “Don't even worry about it, love.” He says quietly, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“My favorite color is green.” Johnny says, appearing next to you suddenly.

“Let me guess, Ghost’s is black.” You say.

Johnny's mouth twitches. “Now how'd you come to guess that?”

You shrug, unable to hide your grin. “Call it intuition.”

Emily takes you to the changing rooms, the boys taking seats outside to wait for you to try on the dresses you've chosen so far. You pick a sleeveless, blue, knee-length dress first with a ruched skirt. You already don't like it, but you know the guys will want to see it regardless.

You feel nervous, strangely exposed as you step out of the dressing room and make your way to where the guys are sitting. They both straighten up as you approach, Johnny’s eyes immediately on your legs. Gaz let's out a low whistle as his eyes scan your figure, ending on your legs as well.

“What?” You ask concerned as you stare down at your own legs thinking the worst, like how you might have missed a spot shaving or something.

“Nothin’ love,” Gaz says, unable to lift his gaze from your legs. “Just never seen you in anything but long pants before.”

Your cheeks warm at his words. It's true, the climate had yet to allow for anything but long pants. Even to sleep, you found yourself too cold without long sleep pants.

“Christ, you've got gorgeous legs, kitten.” Soap says, letting his eyes trail your form. “Keepin’ those hidden from us?”

Your face feels like it's on fire as they stare at you, and quickly turn to face the large mirror across from them in an attempt to steady the butterflies in your stomach.

“What do you think?” Emily asks, stepping up next to you.

“It's a little too...churchy for a date.” You say smoothing your hands over the skirt. “Definitely need something fancier than this.”

You try on a few of the others, but none of them are right. Too short, too long, too formal, not formal enough. Johnny brings you more to try, a couple sticking out, but you're not sold on any of them.

The last dress you have yet to try on catches your eye as you pull it off the hook. It's a deep blue color, almost black. It's long sleeved and covers your front entirely, but the back is open. It's short, the skirt hem long enough to cover your ass, but you wouldn't dare bend over. It hugs your figure, accentuating the curves and lines of your body.

Your cheeks are warm as you step out of the changing room, both Gaz and Johnny going slack-jawed as they stare at you. Even Emily looks in awe as you stand in front of them.

“I think you've found the one, love.” Gaz says, his eyes trailing your form. “Give us a spin.”

You do a slow turn, not missing the way their eyes widen in the mirror when they see the back, Johnny still frozen as you turn back to face them.

“How do you feel?” Emily asks, stepping up to you.

“Good.” You say, your face still warm. “Really good.”

“Yeah,” She says, looking you over. “I think you've hit the mark with this one. Let me grab shoes and we'll put the whole look together.”

You turn to face the mirror as she steps away, your eyes meeting Gaz's as he steps up to you.

“You look fantastic, love.” He says, leaning in close over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear. Goosebumps form on your skin as his fingers slowly trail up the line of your spine. “Price is going to want to devour you instantly as soon as he sees you in this one.”

You shiver at his words, biting your lip as his fingers splay out across your upper back. “You think so?”

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “He won't be able to keep his hands off you. Gonna drive him insane, making him sit through dinner looking like a delicious dessert.”

You fear you might start smoking from how warm you feel, glad for Emily's reappearance. You try on the shoes she brings, opting for the shorter heels for the sake of your own dignity.

Johnny distracts you as Gaz pays for the items, spending far too much on you but neither will let you complain. It's what they're supposed to do.

They are your pack after all.

“What about lingerie?” Johnny asks, turning to look at you as you sit in the car.

Your face burns at his question. You hadn't thought about that bit.

“Gotta dress up the whole fit.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Lay off her, perv.” Gaz says, smacking Johnny's chest. “He's right though, gotta make sure the whole outfit matches.”

You feel like you might implode in the backseat. You might not make it to Saturday at this rate.

You wake early on Saturday. You don't have to be up early. There's nothing going on until tonight, no need for you to rise earlier than the sun. Yet, you can't help the anticipation burning in your stomach, the nervous fluttering in your chest. Tonight you're going to sleep with Price for the first time. Tonight you'll allow him closer than you've ever allowed anyone.

You have an outfit, you have fancy underwear, even new shoes. You're not sure how you want to wear your hair. You're not sure on makeup either, though Price has seen you plenty without it and has yet to offer any complaints.

You grab your phone, laying in bed and scrolling hair tutorials until the sun comes up and you start hearing movement in the hallway. You don’t bother changing, pulling on shoes before stepping out. You are hungry, even after spending half the day in town and eating dinner out with Gaz and Johnny yesterday. You slip out the door, coming face to face with Ghost. You tilt your head back, staring up at him.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He grumbles. “Figured you’d be busy getting ready.”

“I’ve got like ten hours until I have to be ready.” You say, blinking up at him. “It doesn’t take that long.”

He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”

You follow him out of the barracks, but you find yourself not having to speed walk quite as fast to keep up with him today.

“Are you upset?” You ask, kicking up your pace a bit so you can walk side by side with him.

“About what?” He asks.

“Price and I.” You say.

“Why would I be?” He sounds genuinely baffled that you’re asking him.

You shrug. “You’re an alpha in the pack too, and I didn’t really ask anyone but Price.”

“Price is your alpha.” He says, as if it’s the most straightforward thing in the world. He’s not wrong, Price is the only one that really matters when it comes to you, since he’s the pack alpha, and he’ll be the one claiming you.

“Would you ever want to be?” You ask, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze as he opens the door to the mess, not answering as you slip into the hall. He stands closer to you than he normally does as you get in line for food, tailing you like a shadow as you find Johnny among the drowsy and hungover soldiers in the mess.

You take a seat across from him, Ghost taking his spot next to Johnny. You can feel the nerves beginning to take hold as you eat, thinking about your date tonight. It’s not like you really have to impress Price much, though you suppose you could make him dislike you rather easily. You’d rather avoid that situation, as there’s no getting out of mating and being claimed by him. You’re going to be part of his pack whether he likes you or not.

What if he finds you boring? You’re not even sure what you could talk about. It’s not like you do much, and he already knows most everything he can about you. The only thing you have to talk about are things you’d rather not discuss during your first date. You’d prefer not to discuss them at all.

“You’ll be fine.” Johnny says as you walk back to the barracks. “Just get ‘im talking, and ye won’t need tae worry about gettin’ a word in yourself.”

Johnny’s words do make you giggle. You’re sure Price has so much more to talk about than you do. You barely know anything about him in general.

It’s ironic that you’re more nervous about dinner than you are about the fact Price is going to take your virginity tonight.

You did ask for this. It’ll be good, getting to know him before your heat starts. The idea of going through your heat with a virtual stranger is terrifying to you, and Price had so willingly offered to do this so that doesn’t happen, so you feel more comfortable with being mated and claimed by someone you at least somewhat know. This is your chance to get to know your pack alpha, your alpha before you’re forced to. This is your chance to make your own decision, to have some control over a life that’s been dictated for you this far.

You spend the morning in a nervous panic, looking up tips online, tutorials, possible questions he might ask and thinking up answers that will make you sound interesting at least. Answers that won’t just be parroting things that he already knows. Gaz brings you lunch, letting you continue to prepare for your date, knowing the chances of you having a breakdown if you’re forced around people are high right now.

You give yourself ample time to get ready, showering and moisturizing, making sure you smell clean and look nice. You do your hair, taking your time to make yourself look decent. You opt for minimal make up, wanting to make yourself seem like you at least put a little effort into your looks.

You're strapping on your shoes when the knock comes at the door. Six o'clock sharp, just as you expected. You take a deep breath, adjusting your dress before you open the door.

John is standing on the other side, dressed in a button up shirt and slacks. You look him over, the fresh scent of cologne reaching your nose. His eyes rake your form, his scent slipping through the cologne as his gaze darkens a bit. Gaz was right. He does look like he wants to devour you.

“You clean up nicely.” You say, looking him over again. His shirt hugs his muscles nicely, his pants obviously tailored to fit him. You haven't seen him in anything but fatigues and civilian clothes so far.

“Was going to say the same to you.” He says, lips pulling up into a smile. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hungry?” He asks, offering you an arm.

“Always.” You say, taking his arm, letting him lead you towards the rec room.

The lights inside are dimmed, the table usually reserved for games set up with a tablecloth and candles, along with two plates covered with cloches, and a bottle of wine. You're not sure when he managed to procure the wine, or maybe he had it saved and decided this was as good a time as any.

“Wow.” You say, impressed by the effort he obviously put into everything.

“I bribed the boys out of here for a few hours.” He says, leading you to the table. “Wasn't easy.”

“I bet.” You say, sitting down in one of the chairs, letting him push it in for you.

He pours you both glasses of wine before taking the cloches off the plates. You blink in surprise at the meal on the plate. Spaghetti, a salad, and bread. It's so simple, yet it takes you right back to weeknight dinners at home.

“You made this?” You ask as he takes the seat across from you.

He nods. “I've amassed many skills over the years. I'm no five star chef, but I can throw things together in a pinch.”

“Well it looks good.” You say, picking up your fork.

It tastes good too. It's so simple, yet it's one of the best things you've eaten in the last month. You miss a lot of things about America, and the food is starting to be one of those.

You and John make small talk as you eat, the wine warming your body and easing your nerves.

“How long has it been,” You ask him as you clear your plate. “Since you were with an omega last?”

“Two years.” He says, taking a sip of wine.

Your eyes widen in surprise. You know they've been with omegas in the past, taking advantage of barrack bunnies and the swaths of willing omegas you know populate near military bases. You just hadn't thought it would be that far back in the past.

“Right around the time the task force was created.” He continues. “We were too busy bonding and working on the task force, by the time we had a moment long enough for anything like that, we didn't need them anymore.”

“That must have been torture.” You say, staring at him wide eyed.

“We're trained for that sort of thing.” He says with a smile. “How to fight off those urges, those needs. When you're in the field, something like that could get you killed. You don't pass selection into the SAS until you can show mastery over those skills.”

“Damn.” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “Still, it couldn't have been easy.”

“It can be hard, once you've been with an omega, to go without. But that's just part of the job.”

“Well, I suppose that's partly why I'm here.” You say, huffing out a laugh.

“Perhaps.” He says. “I'm certain we're not getting the full story.”

The double meaning isn't lost on you. There's a lot they don't know about you, things that are safer buried deep where they can't hurt anyone. Things you'd like to keep buried for the rest of time.

“It’s nothing...bad is it?” You ask, searching his gaze.

“I’d like to think not,” He says.

But...

You don’t need to hear him say it. You know it’s there, lingering at the end of that statement. You wonder how many times he’s been in these situations, forced to place blind trust in someone and hope they have the best intentions in mind. You’re all too familiar with those sorts of situations. Putting blind trust in strangers was your life purpose as soon as you presented as an omega.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He says, staring at you with such conviction you can’t help but believe him. “You’re part of our pack, which makes you part of this team, even if bureaucracy says otherwise. We take care of each other, and that includes you. You’re our omega, regardless of whatever the endgame is for this initiative.”

You feel almost breathless at his words, at his declaration of loyalty to you. You know how much loyalty means to someone like him, the kind of promise words like that uphold. They’d give their lives to defend you. You’d fight to defend them too, if it came down to it. Not that you could do much, but you’d try.

“You’re my omega.” John says, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “I take care of what's mine.”

You nod, trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes. “I know. You've...you've been a better alpha than I could have ever hoped for. Despite everything you've been kind and caring and understanding. I know some things we learned at the institute weren’t right, but...I was expecting a lot worse.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I'm glad I could prove that wrong. I know this situation is weird and less than ideal, but I fear I'll have to tell Kate she was right. She did pick a good omega.”

You smile, preening a bit under his praise. “That’s all I can try to be.”

“You can be so much more than that.” He says, lifting your hand to his lips. His beard tickles your skin as he presses a line of kisses across the back of your hand before turning it, kissing across your palm to your wrist. He presses his nose against the skin there, inhaling deeply. “You’re sure, about tonight?”

Your fingers brush his cheek as he holds your hand against his face. Your heart is thudding your throat at the proximity, those nervous flutters starting in your stomach again. He’s giving you an out, a chance to take back what you had asked for. You know he wouldn’t blame you. He was more than willing to wait for your heat to start, for when you had no choice, when it would mean less because you would be desperate and needy for him.

You don’t want that, though. You want him to want you before his instincts tell him he does. You want to know he’s not just fulfilling a duty, scratching an itch that’s been tickling him for two years now. You want him to want you as you are now. You want him to choose you.

“Yes.” You say, pressing your palm flat against his cheek. “Just...be gentle with me?”

“Of course.” He says, kissing your palm again. “You change your mind at any time, you tell me, yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He takes your hand in his again, standing from his seat.

Nerves mix with excitement as he pulls you to your feet with him, stepping up close to you. His hand lifts, tilting your chin up. Your stomach flutters as you meet his gaze, his eyes warm and soft as he stares at you. Affection shines in them as his thumb brushes your lip before he’s leaning down, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is short and sweet, like the ones you’ve shared with him before. Yet, at the same time it feels different. There’s warmth beginning to blossom under your skin, the kiss not just a simple sign of affection this time. It’s the overture, the appetizer, just a teasing taste of what’s to come.

You hold his hand as he leads you down the hallway, heels clacking on the tile floor. It makes your face warm, the thought that they all know what it means, they can hear it and they know what’s about to happen. They know where you’re going, what you’re about to do.

John opens his door, motioning for you to enter. You haven’t been in any of their rooms yet, you haven’t invaded their own sacred spaces. Your steps are slow and cautious as you breach that barrier, John’s scent washing over you as you step into his room.

It’s neat and tidy, just as you expected it would be. It’s not laid out all that differently from your own, though perhaps a bit more organized and clinical than yours. There’s a shelf next to his nightstand, stuffed with books and what you can assume are souvenirs from places he’s been. There’s stacks of papers on the desk, his clothes and shoes tucked away neatly in their places. His bed is slightly bigger than yours, and you wonder if that’s a perk of his status, or if he pulled some strings once he learned he was getting an omega.

The door clicking shut draws your attention back to John, the click of the handle a finality. You’re doing this. There’s no going back now.

Not that you want to.

John steps up to you, staring down at you. You stare up into his eyes as his hand comes to rest on your waist, his touch hot through the thin fabric of your dress. “You’re sure you want to do this?” He asks, voice rumbling in his chest.

You nod, your hands slowly sliding up his arms, feeling the muscle hidden beneath his dress shirt. “Yes.”

His lips meet yours, beard tickling your skin as he kisses you. You let him lead, leaning into him as he pulls you closer against his chest. He’s so warm, so firm under your hands as you grip his shoulders. His hand slides from your hip to your back, a gasp parting your lips as his calloused fingers touch the bare skin of your back. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. He tilts his head, taking advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes like wine, a quiet sound leaving your throat as he pulls you tighter against him, pressing your body into his. You can feel all of him, the hard ridges, the strength in his body as he cages you in his arms. Your head is spinning, intoxicated purely by the smell and taste of him.

Something rumbles deep in his chest, your entire body shivering in response. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, your hips pressed flush against his. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. You’ve been able to smell the musky tinge of arousal in his scent all evening, and you wonder how long he’s been hard. Has it been since he saw you? Or has he been thinking about this all day?

The thought thrills you, makes your omega preen in the back of your mind. You did this. Your alpha is all worked up because of you.

A whimper leaves your lips as his hand slips lower, smoothing over the curve of your ass. He mumbles a curse against your lips before they blaze a path down the line of your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head, bearing your throat for him. A low rumble of approval vibrates through his chest, his hand squeezing your ass. The sound has your omega practically belly up, the dampness between your thighs intensifying as your scent gets heavier in the air.

John groans against your throat, teeth nipping at your neck just over your scent gland. “Such a good girl for me.” He groans, his hand on your ass guiding your hips to grind against his. “Such a good omega.”

You whine at the praise, hands blindly sliding down his chest to pull at the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers are trembling slightly from excitement, fumbling as you attempt to get his shirt off. You need to feel him, his skin against yours, the warmth of him pressed against you.

“Easy pup.” His voice rumbles against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin before he pulls back, hands taking over to strip him of his button up and undershirt.

You lick your lips as his skin is revealed to you, your hand automatically lifting to touch him. You hesitate for a half a second but he makes no move to stop you. Your eyes trail over his form, over the many, many scars that decorate his skin like some kind of macabre painting. Lines and jagged slices, the telltale star shaped marks of bullet wounds. Cuts and nicks from knives or bullets, you can’t tell the difference.

Your fingers settle on a rather large scar on his side, starting at the base of his ribs and curling around his side. It’s an old scar, but the skin is still rough and uneven. Whatever had caused it, it took a chunk out of him. You don’t want to think about it, about how every scar could have been a close call. How many times he’s been on the brink of death.

“I’ll tell you about them later.” He says, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your fingertips, his beard tickling your skin. “Tonight is about you.”

He pulls you close again, leaning down to press his lips to yours. His hands are warm against your back as he wraps himself around you again, trapping your hands against his bare chest. Your nails dig into his skin as his hands sink lower, grabbing handfuls of your ass. He groans, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. He presses you backwards, and you trust him to guide you until your legs hit the side of his bed.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?” He growls, his voice rough around the edges as his alpha slips through.

“Yes, alpha!” You gasp against his lips, your head tilting back in submission.

“Always such a good omega for me.” He praises you, teeth nipping at your throat. “Good omegas kneel for their alphas.” He says, pushing you backwards so you plop down on his bed. “But a good alpha,” He slowly lowers himself before you, dropping to one knee, then the other as his hands wrap around your ankles. “Kneels for his omega.”

Your face warms as you stare down at him, unable to do anything but watch as his hands make quick work of your shoes, setting them neatly beside the bed. His skin is rough against yours as his hands drag up your legs, slowly parting them. He moves himself closer, kneeling between your parted thighs. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he reaches up, pushing on your stomach until you're laying flat on his bed. He can see up your skirt now, and you're silently glad for the lacy panties Johnny had insisted on.

“Do you trust me?” His lips brush your inner thigh as his hands pause just at the hem of your skirt where it's ridden up almost to your hips.

“Yes, alpha.” You say, lifting your head to stare down at him.

He meets your gaze as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his hands continuing to press upwards until your dress is hiked around your waist. Your heart is fluttering rapidly in your chest as you stare down at him, his gaze leaving your eyes to stare at the soaked lace barely covering your most private parts.

His hands leave your hips to curl around the lace, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric snaps easily, the shreds falling to the floor. Your lip part as you stare at him in shock.

“I'll buy you a new pair.” He says, his hands gripping your thighs to pull them further apart.

The cool air in the room hits your slicked folds, making you shudder. He's barely touched you and already you can feel how slick you are. His lips press against your inner thigh again, blazing a path upwards. His gaze meets yours again as his hands shift to grip your hips, adjusting your position on the bed before he leans in, dragging his tongue through your folds.

You gasp at the foreign sensation, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders. His mouth is warm as it closes over your pussy, his tongue licking another slow stripe up your folds until he reaches the spot that has your inhale turning into a gasp.

He focuses his attention there, dragging slow lines across your clit with his tongue. You let your arms give out, laying flat on the bed again. Little whimpers leave your lips as he teases your clit, your thighs already trembling. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself. Not since before you left the institute four months ago.

You don’t last very long.

Your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as your orgasm is ripped from you suddenly. You let out a cry that’s probably too loud, but you don’t care who could have heard you as your back arches off the bed, pressing your hips closer to John’s face. His hands hold your thighs, keeping you still as his tongue continues to tease your clit, working you through your orgasm.

It’s not until you’re writhing in his grasp, letting out little whimpers that he relents, lifting his face from between your thighs. His beard is shiny with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. It’s obscene and yet, it has heat pulsing straight between your legs again. He lets out a chuckle, the scent of your arousal washing over him.

“Fuckin sweet as sugar, love.” He says as he pushes himself up from between your legs, his body folding over yours on the bed.

His face presses into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your pussy flutters at the thought of him claiming you now, sinking his teeth into your skin to mark you as his forever. He could. It would be so easy for him to do it. His tongue laves over the skin covering your scent gland, a shiver running through you. Your arms wrap around him, holding him against you as your scents mingle, musky with arousal.

“Alpha...” You whine, your hips pressing up against the bulge in his pants. He’s fully hard now, the fabric of his pants providing delicious friction against your folds.

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your throat before he pushes himself up over you. “Soon, love.” He says, moving until he’s standing in front of you. “Think you’re a bit overdressed still.”

Your eyes dart down to his pants. “So are you.”

He smirks, his hands dropping to your waist, slowly pushing your dress up higher. You let him slip it over your head, lifting your arms to help him. You’re bare before him, warmth spreading through your veins as he stares down at you. Your hands lift, coming to rest on his thighs. You can feel the muscle through the fabric, the strength of him beneath your hands. How easily he could take control, pin you down and take what he wants with little regard for you or your pleasure. How easily he could hurt you, snap your bones like they’re toothpicks, bruise and batter your body without even straining a muscle.

Yet he stands here, patiently watching as your hands move closer and closer to the prominent bulge in his fitted pants. He doesn’t even twitch as your hand cups his hard length, your breath stuttering at the sheer size of him. He’s big like most alphas are, or so you’ve heard.

His eyes stare into you as you undo his belt, popping the button on his pants open. He finally moves as you pull down the zipper, helping you tug his pants and briefs down. His cock stands at attention, almost as stiff as he is. You stare at his veiny cock with wide eyes, the tip flushed almost red with how hard he is.

“Christ.” You breathe, staring at him in awe.

You did that.

“Easy, love.” He says, leaning down to wrap an arm around your waist. “I said tonight was about you.”

He moves you so you’re laid out on the bed, your head hitting his pillow. The scent of him floods your nose as he joins you on the bed, the frame creaking as he kneels between your legs. Nerves twist in your stomach as you continue to stare at his cock bobbing between his thighs as he runs his hands along your legs. It’s going to hurt, you know that. It suddenly seems daunting, this request. At least during your heat you’d be so out of it with need you wouldn’t really feel anything. And you’d have plenty of slick to help.

“None of that.” He says, squeezing your thighs gently. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

You nod, swallowing thickly.

“We’ve got more work to do before we reach that point. I’m not just going to stuff my cock into you like some needy pup.” He stares at you. “You tell me and I’ll stop, alright?”

You nod again. “Yes, alpha.”

Your breath hitches as his hands reach the junction of your thighs, one moving to your stomach, the other dragging through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingers. They’re so much thicker than your own, your pussy clenching as he presses against the entrance.

“Relax for me, love.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your stomach with his thumb.

His finger presses into you and your lips part at the intrusion. You clamp tight around his finger, making him groan.

“Easy.” He says, his thumb moving to circle your clit.

A breathy whine leaves your lips as his finger presses deeper into you, reaching further than you ever could. Your hand reaches up to thread through his hair, letting the short cropped strands slide through your fingers. It’s softer than you imagined, though you expect he too had spent the afternoon preparing for tonight as well. The mental image of him lathering himself in moisturizer would have made you laugh if his finger hadn’t brushed against a spot inside you that has your hips lifting off the bed.

He leans down, lips blazing a path up your stomach, between your breasts to your throat. He swallows your moans as he works you open with his fingers, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into your wet pussy only adding to the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel it building within you, heat burning through your veins. Price groans against your lips as your nails scratch his scalp, his cock leaking against your thigh. You want him, need him inside of you. You need to feel him, you need to be close to him.

“Alpha, please.” You whimper, tugging at his hair.

He stares down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Please, what?”

“Need you.” You whimper, grinding against his hand. “Please, sir.”

Price closes his eyes, letting out a groan. His cock twitches against your thigh, his fingers slipping from you. He breathes out a curse, shifting to open his nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of lube, sitting back on his knees to squirt some into his hand. You’re plenty slick, but you watch as he rubs the lube on his cock, tossing the bottle back into the open drawer.

He kneels between your thighs again, staring down at you as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. You feel intoxicated, your head spinning from the intensity of his scent around you and the knowledge of what’s about to happen.

Price folds his body over yours again, the head of his cock brushing your folds. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you, parting your thighs further for him as his tip catches on your opening. Your hands grip his shoulders as he presses into you, the stretch stinging a bit as he works you open. This is it. There’s no going back now.

You don’t want to.

You whimper quietly as he pushes into you, nails biting into his skin. It’s too much, yet you can’t get enough of it as he sinks further in. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls away from your lips staring down at your face.

“Alright?” He asks, stilling where he is.

You nod. “Just need a moment. You’re really big.”

His lips twitch up into a smile, a pleased growl rumbling through his chest. “Don’t start talking like that, love.” He says, leaning down to press kisses to your face.

“Or what?” You ask, your nails digging harder into his skin.

“I might not be able to control myself.” He growls, his alpha slipping out around the edges of his voice.

Your pussy clenches at his words, walls clamping down around him. He lets out another growl, hiking your leg up over his hip. It forces him deeper into you, your breath catching at the feeling of him spreading you open.

“Fuck,” You breathe, rocking your hips to take him even deeper into you.

John’s arms frame your head as he presses his body against yours. Your arms slip around his back, legs locking around his waist as he begins to move slowly, working himself deeper and deeper into you until he’s pressed flush against you. He stills for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as you both breathe. You’re trembling just slightly, overwhelmed with being so close to him, to your alpha. The pain and discomfort is gone, replaced by burning heat as desire pulses through your veins.

“Please, alpha.” You whimper.

He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you, omega.”

Your skin is slick with sweat already as he begins to rock his hips into you. Your hands press into his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex as he moves. It feels good, the friction of your bodies, the way he stretches you open with every thrust. Your head is spinning with pleasure at the thought of being so close to another person, being so connected with someone else.

Not just someone else, with your alpha.

The wet squelch of your pussy as he thrusts into you is loud, the mattress creaking as he picks up speed. You’re trembling, your thighs squeezing around his hips as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You’re not sure how he’s lasted this long, especially without any sort of release for himself yet tonight.

Perhaps it was the training he spoke about earlier.

You’re not sure how he manages it. You couldn’t have that kind of control. Not after this. Not after knowing how good it can feel, how good he can make you feel.

“Fucking feel so good.” He grunts, his breath fanning her ear. His own skin is slicked with sweat, muscles twitching under her hands. “So fucking tight and warm.”

“John!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as he picks up the pace even more, his hips snapping against yours.

“Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good omega? Need you to cum for me.” He grunts, staring down at you.

You let out a whine, arching against him as you seek your second high of the night. His cock brushes that spot inside of you, stars nearly erupting behind your eyes.

“Right there.” You gasp, thighs shaking around his hips. “Fuck, right there!”

You’re being loud but you don’t care, nails dragging down his back as he focuses his thrusts right at that spot inside you. You cum with a cry, pussy squeezing around him. He lets out a loud groan, his hips stilling as he twitches inside you. His muscles go lax, his body falling on top of yours. He manages to keep himself from squishing you beneath him, his face pressing against your neck.

The smell of sex, arousal, sweat, and your own combined scents are heavy in the air. You’re shaking, still wrapped tightly around John as he lays on top of you. He’s breathing heavily, warm breaths fanning against your neck. You don’t want to move, your mind buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm still.

“Alright?” He murmurs, lips pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

You nod, slowly unwinding yourself from around him. “Yeah. ‘M good.”

“Fucking Christ, a man could get addicted to that.” He says, lifting his face from your neck. “Sweet little omega.”

Your face warms more than it already feels, and you lean into his touch as his fingers brush your cheek.

“Let me go get something to clean this mess up with.” He says, pushing himself up so he’s kneeling.

You can’t help but giggle as his joints pop and he lets out a groan at the effort. “Need a break, old man.”

His eyes flash playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Going with the old man insults again, huh?”

You give him a look. “You’re the one grunting while getting up.”

You let out a surprised yelp as he brings his hand down on your thigh, the skin tingling as he gets up. “I’ll show you old man.” He murmurs as he heads for his en suite.

You bite your lip as you begin to feel his release slipping out of you, the feeling causing desire to stir in your stomach once more.

John tsks as he comes back, wiping the mess between your thighs. “Needy little thing.” He practically purrs, stepping away to toss the rag into the bathroom sink before he returns, climbing back onto the bed.

You press as close to him as you can, nuzzling into his neck. Your limbs are still twitching a bit, your mind buzzing from the aftermath of what had just transpired. John wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You press a gentle kiss to his neck, earning a rumble in response. Your own rumble starts up as you purr contently, tossing a leg over his hip to allow you to get as close to him as possible.

He huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Comfortable?”

You purr louder in response, sleep beginning to fog the corners of your mind.

“Good girl.” He says, pressing another kiss to your head. “Sleep. Alpha’s got you.”

Taglist:

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #x reader #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha beta omega dynamics

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prettyfastcars · 3 months

Text

rumours about you | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re not necessarily happy regarding the announcement your family just made – about how you would be marrying one of their allies’ sons in order to unite forces and what not. You had multiple issues with your family making major decisions about your life just like that, but the main one was that you disliked the one they chose for you to marry. Lando. So you decided to confront him, thinking the two of you would work together and find a way to call off the wedding. But Lando has other plans.

Themes: arranged marriage, smut, explicit language, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies ish, degrading kink, dom!lando, slightly bratty!reader

“I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.”

When you showed up to his house – or mansion rather – earlier, his butler told you to wait for him in his study room. The butler also said that Lando would be home soon. You were not very patient at the moment given the unsteadiness of your life, so waiting for half an hour was driving you insane.

Had it not been for the multiple bookshelves to explore and inspect, you would’ve surely lost it.

Lando paused briefly at the doorway upon hearing the sound of your voice. Then he walked into the room in that arrogant manner of his, that maddening smile on his face, and shut the door behind him.

The bastard knew he looked good and he flaunted it always. Nice and muscular, that tailored, dark suit looked damn good on him. Little bit of facial hair, brown curls on his head and those damn pretty eyes. Not to mention those natural, extra long lashes that would make anyone jealous.

He smirked when he caught you checking him out. “Apologies,” He said, “But your future husband is a very busy man, you might wanna get used to it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the large desk, watching said future husband as he walked straight toward the mini bar and began making drinks. You noticed he grabbed two glasses so at least he was polite. But you weren’t here to have drinks and chit chat. So you got straight to it.

“I want you to call off the wedding.” You said.

“This is the third time we’re having this conversation.” Lando sent you a look before turning back to focus on the drinks. “And I’m asking you again, why would I do that?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment. You two had had this conversation twice already. And each time, Lando would just send you home without listening to what you had to say.

“Because…” You trailed off, then tried again, “Because we would be miserable together. I mean,” You chuckled humorlessly, “Marrying to unite forces? Really?” You sounded disgusted, “That’s so old fashioned.”

Lando finally walked away from his minibar with two drinks in his hands. He sipped on one and when he made it over to you, shamelessly letting his eyes roam all over your body before he handed you the other glass. You accepted it and took a sip as well. It was some kind of spiced whiskey, and you welcomed the burn.

He shrugged, sliding one hand into his pocket. “I see no problem with it,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes with his bluish green ones. “It’s been happening for decades in both our families. It’s made us strong, powerful, and wealthy.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, “Then go find someone else. I don’t want to marry you.”

Truth is, you’d known Lando and his family since you were a kid. Dinner parties, galas, birthdays, family vacations, he was always around. And you disliked him even as a child. He was too loud, too popular. Then he got older and got hot, then slept around like it was his job. The rumours that circulated around about him were… not very pleasant.

Lando raised an eyebrow at you. “Why not?” He teased. “I’m perfect.”

You gave him a fake smile and said, “I would rather marry someone who is less of a manwhore.”

He chuckled. “That just means I have more experience.” He stated, then leaned closer and whispered into your ear, “Experience that I can use to turn you into my perfect little wife. Both in and out of the bedroom.”

You scoffed, “You’re disgusting.”

“I’ve been called worse things, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Look just… call it off.”

He asked, “Why don’t you do it?”

“You think I haven’t tried? They won’t listen to me. They say I’m just throwing another tantrum. Like I’m some kind of child.” You stated, finishing your drink and leaning against the desk again. Lando stepped closer, invading your personal space, looking at you like you were some kind of oddity. “What are you doing?” You hissed.

He finished his drink and said, “Just thinking about how I’ll handle your tantrums in the future. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, I’m very good with brats.”

You should’ve known this would be useless. So instead of arguing, you said to him, “If we ever get married, I will never let you put a finger on me. You hear me?”

The asshole smiled like he was looking at a little puppy. “You’re cute when you try to stand your ground, princess.” He said in a lowered voice. “But we both know you’ll turn into a puddle the moment I touch you.”

Then his hands were on you, holding you by the waist as he pulled you into him. Chests pressing together, you were speechless for a moment as you stared into his pretty eyes. He smelt so good too.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Lando smirked, “What did you think you were doing, huh? Showing up at my house in a tiny little dress, asking me to call off the wedding, accusing me of being a whore too.” He chuckled. “You’re a mess, babygirl. Don’t you see it?” He asked. “A complete brat who needs some taming.”

He also noticed the way you clenched your thighs together, like you were craving friction down there.

“Don’t you see you need me?” His voice was softer now, and still condescending. He leaned in and whispered, his lips brushing against the side of your mouth as he did, “I can help. I can make you the most perfect wife for me. Obediently, polite,” He chuckled, “And dirty, but only for me. I’ll handle all your tantrums in private, and I’ll be so, so good to you.”

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your mouth at the sound of his words. They should’ve offended you, they would’ve if it wasn’t for the wetness gathering in your flimsy underwear.

He was so close, his lips just an inch away from your own. His scent was driving you insane. You knew whatever was gonna happen from now on would change everything. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to.

So when he brought his hand in between your legs and slid it up your dress, you let him. You let out a gasp when he cupped you down there, instinctively rubbing his fingers against your dripping wet folds.

Lando scoffed, “See? Told you you’d turn into a puddle.” You whimpered as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “Filthy, little brat.” He chuckled, then pushed your underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out a loud moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet.

“Please…” You begged.

“Please what?” He scoffed again as he slid a finger inside you and felt you clenching hard around him. “Still want me to call off the wedding?” He teased, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. “Answer me, what do you want? Hmm? You want to come like a good girl or do you want to be a haughty brat and cause a scene?”

He stroked you so perfectly, so slowly that it made you lose your mind. “Please, Lando…” You gasped.

He added another finger as he chuckled darkly. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Showing up here again and again, acting all tough and assertive. Thinking you can tell me what to do? Hmm? You think this is how it’s gonna work?” He pulled away a little to look at your pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you everything. I’ll worship your entire fucking existence. I’ll fuck you until you forget your own name. And in return all you have to do is be a good girl, and eventually, my wife. Yeah?”

You nodded a little too quickly. He laughed.

“No more of this call off the wedding nonsense. You hear me?”

You nodded again.

“Good girl. See? You’re learning already.” He removed his hands from in between your legs and said, “Get naked, and bend over my desk.”

As if under some kind of spell, you obeyed immediately. You took the dress off, then removed your underwear and dropped all your clothes into a little pile. You took one look at him and he pointed at the edge of the desk, so you did as he asked.

As your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head, you could hear him behind you as he took his suit jacket off and probably also rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt to his elbows.

Then you felt his hands on you again, rubbing up and down your sides, your hips, your back as he pressed his clothed erection against you from behind. Another whimper escaped your mouth when you felt it. Warm, and hard, rubbing against your wetness.

He bent down and whispered into your ear, his chest pressing lightly against your back, “You see how nice it feels when you’re obedient, baby?” He trailed his fingers down your spine and in between your legs again.

You squirmed under him, against the desk. Breathing heavily as he took his time and touched you like he was in no rush. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you, “Please… stop teasing me,” You sounded just as desperate as you were.

He kissed your ear, making you shiver just at the mere touch of his lips, before saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

The sound of him undoing his belt and lowering his zipper made your heart race. You felt his rough, but warm hands on your body again as he grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet because of course, he wanted to make you suffer some more.

“Are you gonna behave from now on?” He asked, sliding the tip of his cock up and down your slit, making you whine and cry out in desperation.

“Yes…” You whispered. “Yes, just please–,”

The sound of his hand slapping your thigh cut you off. Followed by a slight sting which made you squirm and whine some more. Lando’s voice was deeper now when he spoke, “What did I say about ordering me around? Hmm?”

You tried to push back into him but he pulled away chuckling each time you did. So finally you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl,” He whispered, slowly pushing inside you until he filled you up, feeling your walls tighten around him immediately. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel like fucking heaven.” He groaned, muttering under his breath as he fucked you with shallow thrusts.

Lando grabbed your wrists and pinned them down at your lower back, using it as leverage to fuck deeper into you, harder, faster. He laughed when you began whining even louder, mumbling incoherently as he fucked you.

“Sure you wanna give this up, baby?” He questioned, gradually building up his pace. “You sure you don’t want this little pussy to be full of me each night? For the rest of your life? Huh?”

The sound of of you two fucking was driving you insane.

“You’re gonna be addicted to this cock now, you’re gonna want it all the time.” He boasted. “But you can only have it when you’re a good girl, you hear me?”

His breathy moans, his raspy voice, your body bumping against the desk with each thrust, the sound of metal from his belt clinking together, it was all too much, too good.

“Please…” You whimpered, begging for more.

“Yeah? This is all you needed, isn’t it, baby? Acting like a disobedient brat, thinking you make the rules, all of it just because you needed to be fucked and put in your place, huh?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him.

You whined, “Lando… I–”

He cut you off quickly, “Hold it, don’t come yet.”

He thrust his cock harder into you, making your eyes water and your heart race. Then he just stopped, abruptly. Pulled out and pulled you up from the desk, turning you to face him.

“You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?” He grabbed you by the chin as he spoke, staring deep into your eyes. You could barely form a thought. Lando just scoffed and leaned in to kiss you, hard, before pulling away and saying, “Get down on your knees.”

Lust-drunk and under his spell, you did. You got down on your knees in front of him. You watched how he grabbed his cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth and said, “Now be a good girl, and suck.”

You opened your mouth wider as he slowly pushed himself deep into your mouth. He grabbed the back of your neck and gently guided you.

“That’s it. See? You’re learning already? That’s how a good wife sucks her husband’s cock,” He hissed in pleasure. You looked up and met his pretty eyes. He looked down at you like you belonged there, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth.

You felt his smooth skin along your tongue, tasting his precum as he groaned and hissed in pleasure. You whimpered, circling his tip with your tongue before sucking on it gently.

“Look at me.”

When you looked up at his handsome face, he said, “Fuck… you’re so beautiful, you know that? Come on now. Up.”

Lando had you sit on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck immediately, fingers sliding into his curly hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was a deep kiss again with him growling into your mouth with impatience.

He kissed his way down your neck as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease this time, making you gasp at how good he felt as he began fucking you.

“You feel that?” He asked, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed them further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “This cock can be all yours, baby.” He whispered, lips brushing against your own as he spoke. “You can have it anytime, all day, every day if you want.” He fucked you hard, fast and deep. Your body would’ve fallen on top of the desk had he not wrapped his arms around you to keep you close.

You moaned incessantly, not caring if his butler or housekeepers heard. “Lando …” You gasped, “I’m so close…” You whimpered.

He chuckled. “Are you now?” He teased. “Your little pussy feels so good… so fucking tight like it was made for me,” He whispered against your skin and you barely heard him given your heartbeats echoed in your ear, you were breathless, you wanted more.

You whined as you felt yourself getting so close to the edge again as he pounded into you relentlessly. You felt a familiar pressure in between your legs, all of it getting too much to handle.

“Lando, please,” You cried out, looking into his eyes and silently pleading. “Please, can I come?”

He smirked, feeling your walls clench violently around him. “See I told you I was very good with brats. Look at you no longer complaining, no longer whining about wanting to call off our wedding.” His voice sounded deeper when he spoke. Then he saw that look in your eyes, you were close to losing your mind so he finally said, “Come on then, baby. Come all over this cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You came with a loud cry of his name, walls clenching around him and milking him so perfectly that he followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh tightly and holding you close.

You rested your forehead on his shoulder as you both caught your breath. He wrapped his arms around your shaking body, caressing up and down your back while you held on to him like he was your everything.

“So?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. “Still want to call off the wedding?”

“I hate you.” You mumbled, voice muffled given you’d shoved your face into the crook of his neck. You hated how comforting his body heat was.

Lando chuckled. “Of course you do.” He taunted. Then leaning down to get closer to your ear he whispered, “Your pussy just strangled my cock so hard I’m pretty sure it left bruises on it. But sure, you hate me.”

You whined, squirmed a little because his words made a weird wave of pleasure wash over you.

Lando laughed and said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

#lando norris #lando norris smut #mob!lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

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foxcantswim · 7 months

Text

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Jealousy Hurts]

(gif by me)

Mike starts to flirt with you. Vanessa definitely isn't jealous. Contents: Fluff, Angst(ish), Established Relationship Warnings: N/A WC: 2,220

"No no, like this," Mike laughed as he rolled the ball masterfully, he had been bragging about how good at skee-ball he was so you had asked him to teach you. After all, there wasn't a lot to do on the night shift so you might as well waste some time. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy had been standing a few feet away watching the two of you play, each of them seeming curious.

You rolled another ball but it fell short again.

"Ah, I'll never get it," you groaned, already wanting to give up after failing to get a decent score for the past hour.

Mike smiled at you, stepping closer, "No. Come on. Let me show you." He grabbed another ball and showed you the angle of his arm, "It's simple. Just enough strength in the throw, not too much. And..." he released the ball and it swiftly made its way down the lane and up into one of the high score pockets, "Easy."

"You mean you make it look easy," you rolled your eyes at him and folded your arms in frustration.

He chuckled to himself before holding a ball towards you, "Come on. Let me help."

Vanessa sat in her patrol car outside the pizzeria, her fingers tapping on the wheel. She had been sitting here for almost an hour now, deciding on whether or not to go inside. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the dashboard - 02:40am. She'd usually check in on you every other night to make sure you were okay, but tonight she knew you were on shift with Mike... And yet here she was, pondering on whether or not to go in and see how you were doing. She definitely wasn't here to make sure Mike wasn't going to try anything on you... Definitely not.

Finally, she stepped out of her vehicle and slammed the door shut. She went towards the front doors and peered through the glass, she could see that the lights were on and she could hear faint music. She was about to knock but decided to try the door instead... And of course it was unlocked. Vanessa rolled her eyes in frustration, she couldn't count the amount of times she'd told you to make sure the doors were locked every night.

Upon stepping inside, she could hear muffled voices and laughter - she presumed it was from you and Mike. The stage was empty as she walked past it towards the arcade games, she could clearly see the tall animatronics at the back of the room by the skee-ball machines.

She manoeuvred her way past different games and machines, stepping over loose wires here and there making sure not to trip. She finally made it to the skee-ball machines, she patted Freddy on the arm to let him know that she was there. He stepped out of the way to let her through, however she stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

Mike was standing behind you, one of his hands slowly moving up your arm towards your wrist. Your hand soon lay in his palm, a ball was secure in your hand.

"And you just gotta..." Mike's voice was quiet as Vanessa watched him move your hand with his.

Vanessa decided to clear her voice, making herself known. Both you and Mike turned to look at her.

You dropped the ball and retracted away from Mike with a smile, "Vanessa!" you exclaimed with a smile, walking over to her, "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

Vanessa couldn't help but glare at Mike as you approached her and wrapped her up in your arms, she more than willingly returned the hug as you pressed your lips to her cheek.

"I er... I wasn't aware you two knew each other," Mike coughed awkwardly.

You had been working as an overnight security guard longer than Mike had, you met Vanessa in the first week and you two had hit it off pretty quickly - entering into a relationship only a few months after meeting. A couple of months later, another security guard was hired: Mike. You had only worked duo shifts with him a few times now but you already saw him as a close friend, it was nice to have someone to talk to on long night shifts.

"Oh! Yes. I met Vanessa a few days after I started working here," you said as you pulled away from the hug, Vanessa made sure to grab your hand with hers - she tried her hardest to not keep glaring at Mike. You squeezed her hand in response, "She's my girlfriend. Has been for a couple months now." Vanessa couldn't stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Ah... I'm just... surprised it never came up," he shifted on the balls of his feet awkwardly.

"To be honest I didn't even know you two met," you replied.

Vanessa nodded, "I helped him out for the first couple of days," she stepped ever so slightly closer to your side, her hand still firm in yours, "I wasn't going to come over tonight but I was... passing by so I decided to anyways." She definitely wasn't passing by, her last area of patrol was on the other side of town.

"Well, I'm glad you came," you smiled.

Vanessa smirked at you, "Oh really? You usually complain, saying something along the lines of 'I don't need you to keep me company every night, I'm a big girl'."

You rolled your eyes, "Just because I don't need you here, doesn't mean I don't want you here," you then turned your attention back towards Mike, who seemed to be uncomfortable, "I'm sure time will absolutely fly by now that there's more of us."

"What were you two up to?" Vanessa said, her mind going back to when Mike was practically wrapped around you.

"Mike over here is apparently the best skee-ball player that anyone has ever seen. So he was teaching me how to play. I'm sure I could challenge him any day now."

Mike laughed, "I'm sure you could, Y/N."

The three of you made your way towards the main stage, the animatronics walked behind you.

"What should we do to get through these last three hours, hm?" you wondered, looking around the room.

"I mean... We are at Freddy Fazbear's after all. Couldn't hurt to watch them perform a little," Vanessa suggested, nodding towards the showtime button on the wall. You looked towards the animatronics, they almost seemed excited to get up there and put on a show.

You and Vanessa were sitting at one of the party tables, listening to the music coming from the stage. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were currently performing whilst Foxy stood by your table, he seemed to be enjoying the show.

Vanessa reached across the table to hold your hand, "Sorry for coming here unannounced, Y/N. Just wanted to see how things were going with... Mike."

You nodded, "Him and I became friends quite quickly. It is nice to have someone here when you aren't able to stop by. The animatronics are good company, but it can't hurt to have someone I can actually have a conversation with." You noticed the way Vanessa squeezed your hand ever so slightly as you spoke. You cocked your head at her before teasing, "You're still my favourite, don't worry. I'd rather have you here."

She grit her teeth, "You know, I'm happy you do have someone to keep you company when I'm not here."

A smirk appeared on your face, "Is that so?"

Before Vanessa could answer, Mike walked into the room with a couple of cans in his hands, "I managed to find a vending machine that still worked," he said, handing you a drink. Vanessa gulped hard as she saw him purposefully drag his fingers across yours as you took the drink. He simply placed the other drink on the table in front of Vanessa.

"They aren't out of date are they?" you said, trying to read the scuffed label.

With a shrug, he walked towards the front of the room to take a seat closer to the stage. Foxy followed close behind him before sprinting past him at full speed, jumpscaring him in the process. You couldn't help but laugh at Mike's reaction as he almost threw the can at Foxy.

You released Vanessa's hand in order to open the can, "I mean I am thirsty..." you hummed, a smile on your face.

Vanessa glared at Mike from across the room, "It's Fizzy Faz. It's disgusting."

You noticed that Vanessa was currently glaring at Mike as the man took his seat, "You sure? Is it disgusting or... Do you not want to drink it because of Mike?"

Her eyes snapped onto you, "Because of Mike? Wh-"

"Come on, Nessy," you grabbed her hand across the table once more, placing the can down onto the table, "I've noticed the glaring. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Y/N," she didn't intend for her voice to sound so cold or snappy, but she couldn't help it.

A frown appeared on your face, "V..."

She sighed heavily, "Sorry. Sorry, Y/N. It's nothing, okay? Mike just..."

You had a slight suspicion of what was going on, but you really wanted her to tell you, "You can talk to me, Nessy. You know I won't judge you, right?"

"It's so stupid, Y/N," she laughed, shaking her head.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Vanessa's hand rubbed your knuckles as she tried to think about how to word what she was thinking.

You bit your lip before breaking the silence, "Can you play skee-ball?"

Vanessa was confused by the question, "Skee-ball?"

"Yeah. Are you any good at it?"

"I... I haven't played in a while. But I'd say I've still got it."

"Would you like to teach me instead?" you smirked.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, knowing what you were getting at, "Y/N..."

"Come on, Vanessa. Just admit you didn't like seeing Mike teach me like that."

She scoffed, "Can you blame me? Wouldn't you be pissed if you saw someone all up on your girlfriend like that?"

"To be honest I didn't think anything of it in the moment. I'm sorry, I should've been more aware. I wouldn't give you up for anything. You believe me, right?" you said, hoping for her to understand.

With a sigh, Vanessa nodded, "It's okay, Y/N. I didn't think you were in the wrong," her eyes drifted over to Mike who was currently downing his can of Fizzy Faz, a grimace appeared on his face as he slammed the can down onto the table, "You know he likes you, right?" she looked back at you.

You briefly glanced towards him, "I don't think so..."

She laughed slightly, "Of course he does. Those longing looks, the lingering touches. Him holding your hand teaching you how to play skee-ball. It's every clich�� in the book."

"Okay, so maybe he does. But I promise to turn him down if anything happens, okay?"

With a nod, she replied, "Okay. Sorry for acting this way."

"I think it's cute. Shows that you care about me."

She almost looked offended, "Cute is not the word I would use to describe me."

You let go of her hand, she was surprised by the sudden lack of touch. You made your way round to sit in the seat next to her, "You are cute, whether you like it or not," you leaned your head on her shoulder.

Vanessa couldn't stop herself from resting her cheek against your head. The two of you looked over at the animatronics who were still performing, Foxy now having his own little performance on his own stage.

You stretched your arm across the table to grab your can of Fizzy Faz, you removed your head from Vanessa's shoulder to take a sip...

"It's disgusting."

"Told you," Vanessa smirked in victory, "It's probably years out of date too, I can't imagine what it tastes like."

You put the can back down before turning towards Vanessa, "You should taste it."

"I think I will pass on that, thanks."

"You sure?" you leaned closer.

Vanessa turned her head towards yours. She wasted no time in pressing her lips to yours, a soft smile creeping up onto her face. You smiled into the kiss as you felt Vanessa's hand creep up your neck to hold the back of your head. Sadly, you both needed to breath so she pulled away.

She licked her lips causing your breath to hitch... A grimace soon appeared on her face, "God, it tastes disgusting."

You couldn't help but laugh, "I know."

That didn't stop Vanessa from going in for seconds, though.

Vanessa x F!Reader - Safety Latch (Fluff,Angst,First Kiss)

Vanessa x F!Reader - Total Insecurity (Angst,Hurt/Comfort)

#fnaf gif #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #vanessa fnaf #vanny x reader #mike schmidt x reader #five nights at freddys #mike schmidt

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

not a gamer * fem!driver

lando manages to convince her to start streaming on twitch with him, leading her to influence others to join her

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: butt load of stupidity

notes: initially, i was gonna write a fic solely about max because he was talking about fornite the other day... but i thought how funny would it be if it were to be with some of the guys so here i am

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"hello, everyone," she smiles, reaching forward to adjust the camera as she squints her eyes. "is this a good angle? let me know if it's flattering, okay? i can't not look good on twitch."

lando has managed to convince her to join him for a stream on twitch, insisting that she should start an account as well. she initially refused, claiming that she's not that well-liked to start an account and have a loyal following. even adding on the fact that she's not even a good gamer to begin with.

but lando said that it doesn't matter, and proved her wrong by setting up a poll on his previous stream just to get her to make an account. which, the effort was very endearing.

"you always look good," she squints, turning away the right where her other monitor sits. she scrunches her nose and turns to the camera to stare into it. "logan, how did you even know i was streaming tonight?"

she rolls her eyes when his reply rolls in, claiming that he follows her twitter where she announced it. "it's time for you to go out and do something else besides stalking me, logan," she scoffs jokingly with the roll of her eyes.

"okay, so this is my first twitch stream!" she beams, sitting up straighter as she grabs her mouse. "i'm just waiting for lando to finish setting up, so i'm afraid you guys are stuck with me alone for a couple of minutes. let's get to know each other, i might be doing this pretty often this winter break just to have a bit of a hobby.

"i wanna know what you guys want to see from me."

a comment immediately rolls in.

user1: i wanna see you play fortnite with lando and max

she grins sheepishly, dropping her head. "guys, i'm not much of a gamer. never have been so this is actually my first time-ish touching games in a long while. my longest experience was playing roblox with my younger brother when we were younger."

user2: how about oscar or logan playing some games?

she presses her lips together, thinking of ways she could be able to convince her best friends to join her for some online games. when, neither of them has really dabbled much in the hobby. "i'm sure logan will be pretty keen to try, but i'm not so sure about oscar. i'll try to convince him, though he's back in australia for the majority of the break, unfortunately. the timezone difference is absolutely insane."

logansargeant: guys, ask her what her hobbies are

"logan, get off my chat!"

logansargeant: im gonna expose you on twitter for cyberbullying

logansargeant: #endcyberbullying2023

user3: #justice4logan

user4: #justice4logan

user5: u should talk about taylor swift

“oh, my god! i should!” she squeals. “we should host a listen party when she releases reputation! how good was the 1989 vault tracks?”

user6: omg ur so right

user7: iion slaps

user8: slut! is my favourite i think

“1989 had the best vault tracks,” she nods, lips pressed together. “my favourite is ‘now that we don’t talk’ because i like calling my mom.”

blythe.yln: where is lando!!!

“guys, i don’t know. he texted me 5 minutes ago saying he was setting up his pc,” she grins into the camera. “hopefully he’s here soon.”

dalton.yln: i miss oscar

oscahpastry: i miss u too

“you’ve got phones, yeah?” she grins, “use it instead of flooding my chat.”

user1: yeah guys, some of us are trying to get her attention

user9: u guys get that enough

user10: leave some for us pls

user11: yeah y so selfish

she scoffs. "right, guys? can you believe these people?"

the discord sound makes her jump, lando's voice filling up her headphones. "yo, i'm sorry! i was looking for my keyboard."

"where'd you find it, lando?"

"under the bed. apparently, that's where i kept it the last time i streamed," lando laughs. "okay, let's start off with a little horror game? it's called phasmophobia."

"a scary game?" she looks at the camera. "why would i willingly play that?"

"lando, i'm gonna kill you!" she screeches, eyes closing as the creepy sounds from the game boost in her headphones. she peeks through her eye, watching the two hands on her screen before the screen goes foggy.

lando's laughter replaces the eerie sounds of the game, making her roll her eyes. "i told you to hide and close the door!”

“i didn’t know where the stupid door even was!” she screams back, slamming the table. “lando, i don’t wanna play this game anymore!”

“but it’s so fun!”

“lando!”

logansargeant: that was funny

logansargeant: lemme join u some time

user11: omg

user11: half the grid’s gonna be on twitch?

“yeah, i’m so nice, right?” she jokes. “i’m letting them explore different career options. influencer era or something, i believe.”

oscahpastry: i only created an account to annoy her :/

seb.v5: same

user12: no shot thats actually sebastian vettel

maxverstappen1: so we are all just here waiting for an invite from these two???

logansargeant: theyre gatekeeping the stream from us :(

maxverstappen1: i wanna play fortnite

seb.v5: wait i know that game

maxverstappen1: let me join or i’ll report your account

“that’s not very nice, max,” she frowns. she looks away for a second. “lando, max says he’ll report my account if we don’t invite him to play fortnite.”

“oh, let him report you. just make another account, mate!” lando laughs. “ask him to join us phasmophobia! it’s so fun seeing you scream.”

she turns to the camera with a lopsided grin. “chat, tell lando you don’t wanna see me scream in phasmo anymore please. i’m sick of this game, i’ve got no idea what i’m doing, and i haven’t guessed the ghost correctly this entire time.”

logansargeant: keep playing phasmophobia u pussy

oscahpastry: yeah pussy

user5: its v entertaining icl

maxverstappen1: but phasmophobia costs money

“costs money?” she repeats, confusion on her face. “max? do you need financial aid?”

user10: isnt max a millionaire??????

user13: bro is complaining about a game that barely costs anything while getting paid millions a year 💀

oscahpastry: that’s wild ngl

maxverstappen1: wow i just got cyberbullied.

maxverstappen1: i’ll go get it now damn.

she sighs. “guess we’re continuing with this stupid game.”

“lando, where am i going?” max shouts, her character watching max’s go around in circles, flickering the flashlight on and off. “what am i even supposed to do?”

teaching one person how to play a complicated game like phasmophobia is easy. teaching two, however, is absolutely absurd. lando doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“lando, there’s something written in the book!” she cheers, crouching her character down. she leans into her monitor as she tries to make out what it says. “bitch, it says run!”

she quickly gets up and walks out. “don’t have to tell me twice.”

“run where?” max shouts, his character still running in circles. “(y/n), where are you? escort me out.”

“guys, just stay inside the house and help me out!” lando whines, his character flickering the flashlight at max’s. “turn around, max. i’m here with you.”

“i’m going to the van.”

“no, you’re not! come here and camp the ghost with us!”

“absolutely not! i’m so scared shitless!”

“we should’ve just played fortnite, you know.”

“guys, please! you just have to hold the equipment for me.”

“oh, my god! oh, my god! the front door is locked!” she screams. “the front door is locked!”

logansargeant: lol dsurv

oscahpastry: not so tough now (y/n)

user8: LMFAO THAT GHOST IS HUNTIN

user14: dude the chaos is insane

user15: i need her to stream everyday actually

user16: she’s gonna be an influencer i can feel it in my bones

user17: u guys should try valorant

oscahpastry: i’d join if they play valorant

user4: omg thats crazy

user18: i kinda want to see it

user19: max playing valorant? the rage that man would feel

“lando, i’m dead again!” she screeches, slamming her mouse down into her desk. “we should’ve just played fortnite.”

logansargeant: ur issues with the door are hilarious

user4: i’ll be thinking about your inability to hide in a room for days

oscahpastry: evidence that u wouldnt survive a horror movie at all

seb.v5: maybe you should stick to sitting there and looking pretty

user20: OMG SEB CALLED HER PRETTYYYYY

user21: are we all so shocked?

user22: yeah, he looks at that girl like she aligns the stars in the sky on a race weekend

user23: him during her podium celebration cured my depression (real)

logansargeant: girl why r u just stalking lando as a ghost

“lando,” she whispers. “i saw the ghost in the corner for the room.”

“what?” max asks, voice trembling slightly. “what corner?”

“that corner.”

“what corner?”

“there. i’m pointing at it.”

“i can’t see you, stupid. you’re dead.”

“then that’s too bad.”

“i figured what type of ghost it is!” lando cheers. “follow me, max. let’s get out of this stupid house and play your stupid fortnite or something.”

“oh, how lovely! i saw (y/n)’s chat… something about valorant,” max mutters, following lando through the dark house. “i’ve seen that on tiktok and it looks kinda- lando, why’d you close the door?”

“i told you i saw the ghost lurking more than usual,” she mutters.

“i don’t even know what that means!” max shouts.

“i didn’t close the door, mate!” lando laughs. “go and hide in a room, max!”

“where? i don’t know where to go!” max screams, frantically running around in hopes of finding solace somewhere.

her character follows behind the entity in the game, clearly running around to find max. “oh, she’s coming for you, max! she’s angry!”

“i don’t know where to go!” max screams, his character running by the entryway in confusion. “lando, where do i go?”

“max, she’s coming! go in the closet!”

“what closet? oh, okay! i see it!”

“close the door, max!”

“what door- oh! okay!”

“did he live?”

“i think so. the ghost is lurking outside max’s door,” she grins into the camera, watching the entity walk back and forth outside the room max is in.

“don’t come out yet.”

“not even a chance, mate.”

“okay, she’s gone,” she sighs. “i’m gonna log out and create an account on fortnite.”

“we’re not gonna play valorant?”

“okay, chat, we’re waiting for oscar to finish the tutorial,” she smiles. “we should be in our first game in a couple of minutes.”

user24: bro ur tutorial was horrendous

user25: i love watching people be bad at valorant

user26: shes so real for that though

user27: she’d play sage for sure

seb.v5: i can’t believe you got oscar to join you

user28: and logan 🤨

user17: outrageous that i’ve been begging the grid to join lando’s streams and here she comes casually getting them to play silly games

user3: real

user28: everyone say thank you (y/n)

blythe.yln: i can’t believe u didnt ask me to join u

blythe.yln: i’m the best at valorant

blythe.yln: i’m better than dalton

user29: YES BLYTHE SPEAK YOUR TRUTH

“so, what do i do again, dalton?” lando asks softly. “what’s the ‘e’ button do?”

“puts up a wall,” the younger kid says. “and then it heals you too, but damages other people. even your teammates.”

“who’s this eminem looking bro?” max asks, giggling slightly. “frank ocean, i saw on tiktok.”

user30: my roman empire is blythe being a pro valorant player but this is the first time her sister is trying the game

“well, i’m sorry for doing other things than playing valorant,” she jokes with a smile. “but, yes, guys! blythe plays valorant for a living which is exactly why we didn’t invite her to play.”

user31: blythe is a pro val player!!?!?!?

user31: since when??

blythe.yln: yeah guys follow my twitch, i’ll treat u better

“i’m going to ban you from my chat if you keep marketing, blythe,” she frowns, though a smile creeping up on her face. “where is dalton?”

blythe.yln: dalton is my valorant spawn… i taught him what he knows

user31: dalton to go pro in a couple years?

user32: omg that’s crazy

user1: the yln’s are gonna take over the valorant scene

user6: blythe getting a redbull gaming clutch would be to die for

“mate, dalton, what’s this girl in the yellow jacket do? she looks stylish,” oscar asks.

“she’s got a turret and grenades,” dalton answers simply.

“alright, how do i get her?”

“you gotta play the game.”

“oh, what? that’s so unfair.”

“yeah, i’m sure that sucks that you’ve got to play the game, oscar,” she says. “where is logan?”

“i’m sorry,” the sigh in logan’s sentence making her laugh. “i got stuck.”

“how?” oscar asks with a laugh. “they literally tell you what to do.”

“i couldn’t find the buttons they were asking me to press,” logan mumbles with a hint of disappointment.

“are you actually intellectually hindered, mate?” she cries with a laugh, covering her eyes. “do you not frequent a laptop?”

“not really, no.”

“it shows,” oscar adds on.

blythe.yln: he’s gonna be shit

user5: so real i can alr see it

user11: dude they’re gonna be screaming at each other soon

“let’s do a quick test game,” dalton mutters as logan’s in-game name pops up on the screen. “just a short game.”

“with real people?” lando asks in a small voice. “that can trash talk me?”

“just trash talk them back, mate,” max answers. “easy.”

“just find their ip address and hit them,” logan suggests. “that’s easier.”

“what?”

“don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do it too, (y/n)!” logan whines. “come on, let’s start!”

“how do i defuse the spike?” max screams, looking at the ground as he runs around. “where even is it?”

“your left,” dalton says. “keep walking.”

blythe is now sat next to her older sister, leg propped up in her seat as she watches the screen.

“okay, okay, go to the right and look right here,” blythe mutters, pointing at the screen. “and then aim right here,” she adjusts her sister’s mouse, “when you see somebody, shoot.”

“that’s not fair. (y/n)’s literally got a pro helping her with the game,” oscar complains.

“you’re dead. literally doesn’t matter if someone’s helping you or not,” logan states. “we suck, man.”

“okay, i figured out how to defuse the bomb,” max says softly. “what now?”

“learn to play better,” blythe says loud enough for the microphone to pick up her voice. “i’ll teach you guys.”

“thank you for tuning into my stream,” she grins with a clap. “i appreciate all of the support and teaching me how to play the games. and roasting me.”

logansargeant: bro we suck

seb.v5: should stick to racing and leave gaming to blythe and dalton

“i read each and every comment you guys sent in the chat and they’re all very endearing. except yours, seb,” she stares into the camera with a stern expression, “yours were just outright unnecessary and kinda mean.”

oscahpastry: start a podcast next

maxverstappen1: i wanna be first guest

user16: please stream regularly!!

user10: make oscar play lethal company or i’ll cry

oscahpastry: stop giving her ideas

user21: when r u streaming again

“i will try to stream in a couple of days, after my shoots and marketing stuff with the team,” she grins. “thank you for watching me scream for 4 hours. catch you guys soon. stay kind and stay safe.”

user2: i’ll miss you 🫶🏼

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun

#max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 13 days

Text

wise beyond her years

sol meets someone, and it's doomed from the start. everyone can see it, except her. ingrid tries to balance being supportive and being... a parent?

based [ish] on the manuscript by taylor swift... mostly the lyrics "afterwards she only ate kids cereal and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed"

------

You met her at one of Ingrid’s games. Mapi had gone down to the locker room at halftime, and you’d been content to sit in your seat and scroll through your phone until the team made their way back out. That was, until she slid into the seat next to you and introduced herself.

Camila. She was a bit taller than you, the epitome of Spanish beauty. She spoke English with an adorable accent, and when you looked into her eyes for the first time, you were almost speechless. She looked to be a bit older than you. Maybe around Ingrid’s age.

You should have known better. You should have thought about how odd it was that she’d been sitting a few rows up and only came to talk to you when you were alone. How those first few dates she took you on always ended with her getting you to invite her to the next Barça game.

It was so easy for her. You were… healing. That didn't mean that you were healed. Freud would have rolled in his grave at how oblivious you were. Dating an older woman. Only a month or so after a huge fallout with your mother. Letting her talk you into things you weren’t quite sure about. Let her talk her way into your heart, making promises and declarations of love that came much too soon.

She said that she loved you. And it wasn’t that you believed her, not really. You just thought that if you tried hard enough to be perfect, one day she would love you.

------

Ingrid had made her displeasure with Camila known to you from the beginning. She knew exactly what the woman was up to, it was obvious to everyone but you. She was using you because you were an easy target, and you were vulnerable and young and excited that someone was paying attention to you.

You wouldn’t listen to Ingrid, though. Not when she warned you nicely about Camila, or when she warned you much more seriously. You ignored her words completely, dismissed them. And Ingrid didn’t want to fight with you, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings about this woman that had slipped into your life, so poor Mapi bore the brunt of the Norwegian’s rants about how Camila was not good enough for her Solstråle.

This was the case today. You were off with Camila, and Ingrid was going crazy back home. It had been weeks, and this was still going on. The worry and concern your sister had for you was at a high, it was all she could think about. Mapi felt similarly, but she tried to keep her cool because she knew very well that telling you not to date the woman would only make you want to date her more.

“She’s going to get hurt.” Ingrid said.

“She might. That’s how she learns, though, mi amor. We have to let her make her own mistakes.”

“Did you read that in your parenting book?” Ingrid asked with a slight smirk.

Mapi flushed red, avoiding her girlfriend’s gaze. “It is not a parenting book. It is a… helping sad teens book.” She argued.

Ingrid softened. “María, don’t be embarrassed. Getting a book to learn how to help Solstråle better… that is sweet and thoughtful. Just like you.”

Now, Mapi was blushing again, but this time a small smile adorned her features, though worry was still clouding her eyes. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know she’s your sister, and I do not want to overstep.”

Ingrid just shook her head. “No, you are not overstepping. I couldn’t do this without you, María, and I mean that. You balance me out. I was worried, for a while, about being too much like my mother. You’d never let that happen, though, and it’s like a safety net. I don’t need to worry as much about making a mistake because you’re always there to tell me when I’m not doing the right thing. And you don’t have to be, but you are. I don’t thank you enough for that, my love. I don’t tell you enough, how incredible you are, for being so full of love, and so happy to share it with everyone you meet.”

“I love you.” María whispered back. “I love you, and I love mi sol, and I tolerate her dog, but I love our family. Sol is a special kid and… I don’t know. I just want you both to be happy. I want you both to feel loved and worthy of love because you are.”

Ingrid isn’t quite sure how this conversation about your ‘girlfriend’ had led to this incredibly mushy conversation, but she pulled Mapi into her and squeezed tightly. “ Don’t make me cry, Solstråle will be home soon and she’ll make fun of me.”

Mapi laughed loudly, quickly wiping a tear off Ingrid’s cheek as the front door opened, announcing your arrival home. When you walked into the living room, it was to see Mapi and Ingrid curled up together on the couch, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was the way they were looking at each other unusual, either. Like seeing the other person smile could sustain the other for days. Ingrid and Mapi loved each other so deeply, and so easily, it was clear for anyone to see.

You wanted that, you really did. And you thought you had it where you definitely didn’t. You’d have it one day, though. Something told you that.

-------

You weren’t sitting with Mapi at the match today. Camila had wanted it to be a real date, and not be supervised by your sister’s girlfriend, though she still wanted to attend the match. You’d been excited about it, even though you’d spent most of your free time with her in the past couple weeks. Well, excited until she’d disappeared right before kick off to get you both waters, and had been gone for 20 minutes.

You were really just worried that something had happened to slow her down, so you got up when an opposing player went down and headed off in search of her.

You found her pretty easily, leaning against a wall by the bathroom, talking to a girl. A girl that looked to be about your age, that looked just like you in fact. You tried not to jump to conclusions as you froze, watching carefully from a few meters away. It was obvious, though, what was going on. Even more obvious when Camila reached out and tucked a piece of the girl’s hair behind her ear.

It wasn’t immediately clear to you what to do. You knew you should be angry, but really all you felt was hurt. Before Camila could spot you, you headed back to your seat, and when Camila returned a few minutes later, you did what you were used to. You shut down. You answered her questions with shrugs or nods, even when she started to get annoyed that you weren’t speaking.

You wanted to talk to Frido. Not Ingrid or Mapi, because they’d freak out. Mapi would get all weirdly protective and huffy, and Ingrid would just be furious that you hadn’t listened to her. Frido would listen to you, and tell you what to do. You couldn’t get to the Swede, though, not without seeing your sister and her girlfriend. And by the time the final whistle blew, Camila’s anger was simmering under the surface, and she practically dragged you from the stadium. You quickly texted Mapi, telling her you were leaving with Camila, before your girlfriend pushed you into the car and all but slammed the door. You winced at the sound, knowing that you shouldn’t feel guilty for how you were acting. Camila should be the one feeling bad, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling to just apologize and let it go.

It was like the old version of you and the newer version were fighting. Was this how you deserved to be treated? Had Camila really done anything wrong? Your brain was a mess, and as Camila pulled the car out of the parking spot, and began to drive, you decided that you just needed some space to think.

“Can you take me home?” You asked quietly, looking at your girlfriend out of the corner of your eye. She seemed to relax a bit, now that you’d spoken. Camila didn’t look as angry anymore. Just worried.

“Is everything okay? You’ve gone silent on me.” Camila asked gently. Or, at least, it sounded gentle. She was giving you a kind, concerned smile but there was a look in her eyes that made you kind of uneasy. You ignored it, focusing on the softness, letting yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You told yourself to be honest, that it was probably just a misunderstanding. That Camila would make you feel better about it, explain it all away. And everything would go back to normal.

“I just… I saw you talking to that girl by the bathroom. It looked kind of cozy.” You said cautiously. The car came upon an intersection, a red light, and Camila came to a stop before she looked over at you. The concern was gone from her face. The softness nowhere to be found. She just looked furious at you.

“Did you follow me to the bathroom for a reason?” She asked venomously.

You shook your head, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. “No, no, you were gone for a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Camila rolled her eyes as the light turned green, looking away from you and at the road. “Sure. I was just saying hi to an old friend. There’s no need to get all jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” You replied, sitting up straighter in your seat, a bit of anger flaring in you. Anger you hadn’t felt in a while, but a feeling that still filled your veins with fire. “I just wanted to know why you were flirting with someone while we were on a date.”

Camila scoffed. “I was not flirting. I told you it was an old friend. I barely talked to her, what are you being so dramatic about?”

“I really don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just asked you a question.” You said, trying to remain calm even as your girlfriend got angrier and angrier next to you.

“No, you acted like a child. Going completely silent and ruining our date? I know you’re young, but I expected you to act like an adult and be more mature than that. It’s honestly embarrassing.”

You felt your cheeks burn, and you chewed on your lip for a minute, trying not to say anything you’d regret. “I asked you a question, and you just keep deflecting. I don’t think I am being the childish one.”

“Is this the mommy issues or something?” Camila asked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You sat silent for a moment, not completely sure you’d heard her correctly.

“Excuse me?”

“The jealousy, the insecurity? I know your mom fucked you up, but this is ridiculous. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, why are you being so clingy? It’s fucking annoying, and I’ll tell you right now, no one on earth is going to want to put up with this. Especially not from you, it’s not worth it.”

You blinked, completely shocked. You hadn’t expected her to get so angry when you’d been honest about your insecurity and worry. And you hadn’t expected her to throw things that you’d told her in a moment of vulnerability in your face either. “Are you serious?” You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Camila let out a humorless laugh, parking the car in front of the cafe you were supposed to be going to. “Are you going to cry now?” She asked mockingly. “Christ, you really are too young. I don’t want to date someone this immature.”

You stared at her, feeling like you had whiplash from the turn this conversation had taken. It seemed like she was breaking up with you. Which was probably for the best, if this was how she reacted to you bringing up an issue with her. Still, it was like you were seeing a side of her you’d never seen before. Cold. Cruel. She looked completely unbothered as she unlocked the car doors and gave you a pointed look, one that clearly told you that this conversation was over.

She looked unbothered, and you felt your heart shatter as your biggest fear was coming true. You were too much. It had only taken Camila weeks to get tired of you. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, ones you desperately tried to hide. You were sad and embarrassed, but most of all. You just felt so hopeless.

As you got out of the car, without another word said to your now ex-girlfriend, you wondered how you could have been so naive to think that someone would want you. Camila was right. You were too screwed up for anyone to choose you.

You walked right into the cafe, making a beeline for the bathroom. Locking and shutting the door behind you, the last of your resolve broke, and you worked hard to quiet the broken sobs falling from your lips.

Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken your trust, or said something awful to you. But it was the first time since… things had changed. And somehow, you’d forgotten how much it hurt, feeling unwanted. You had been used to it, before, numb to it. Now, though, it burned sharp in your chest. Shame and sadness and anger and frustration. And still. That persistent feeling of hopelessness. How was anyone ever supposed to want you?

-------

Mapi had a weird feeling when you called. Your text after the match had sounded odd, and you were supposed to be getting coffee with Camila. She didn’t really have any other reason to be worried, but for some reason, she was.

“Maps?” You greeted quietly. You called Mapi on purpose. She worried less than Ingrid, and while she disapproved of Camila, she had been pretending that she didn’t. Mapi was more likely to be willing to come and get you. Ingrid, on the other hand, you assumed would be too angry that you hadn’t listened to her. Too vindicated, and too caught up in being right to comfort you.

“Hey, nena. What’s up?” Mapi asked.

“Can you come get me?” You mumbled, the embarrassment of the situation really hitting you full force.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Mapi replied instantly, and you really appreciated that she didn’t try to get any details out of you, was just focused on getting to you as fast as possible.

“Can you bring Scout?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation, knowing how Mapi felt about bringing the dog in the car with her. The simple question sent another wave of worry through the Spaniard’s body, knowing you really only asked for something you needed when… you really needed it.

“Of course. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” Mapi asked, rushing to grab her keys, ignoring the questioning look Ingrid was giving her from the couch, having woken up from a nap.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, mi sol. I love you.”

“Love you too.” You whispered, choking back a sob as you hung up.

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay? Did something happen?” Ingrid asked rapidly, moving to get up from the couch.

“Scout! Ven aqui!” Mapi called, rolling her eyes when the dog appeared instantly, as if he knew the reason for being summoned. “I don’t know, she just asked me to come get her. Don’t get up. Stay here, rest. I’ll get pequeña.”

“But-”

“No buts, princesa. Stay here. I’ve got this covered, we’ll be back soon. Don’t move from this couch, I mean it.” Mapi insisted, never one to take Ingrid’s recovery casually.

Ingrid frowned but sat back down on the couch, watching as her girlfriend and your dog disappeared out the front door, both of them moving like they were on a mission. If there was one thing Mapi could agree with Scout on, it was that you were very important.

-------

When Mapi pulled up in front of the cafe, she saw you sitting with a to-go cup of coffee at a little table, staring at the ground. She parked quickly, finding a spot just around the corner, before she got out to walk over to you, bringing Scout with her. Scout pulled harshly on his leash, and for once, Mapi didn’t mind.

“Solstråle?” Mapi called when she got close enough, seeing your head whip up to look in the direction of your name. In a flash, you were abandoning your coffee and all but launching yourself towards Mapi. The Spaniard didn’t say anything, not quite sure what had happened but able to infer that it wasn’t good.

“Thanks for coming so fast.” You said quietly, feeling just marginally better now that Mapi had pulled you into a tight hug. Scout nudged your leg with his nose rather insistently, until you pulled away from the hug and crouched down to pet him.

“Of course, mi sol. I’ll always come for you. Did something happen?” Mapi asked, never not amazed by the way Scout instantly brought a small smile to your face, even if your eyes were still slightly wet with tears.

“We broke up.” You said simply, though your voice cracked over the last word.

“Oh, nena. I’m so sorry.” Mapi sighed. “Let's get you home, yeah?”

“Okay.” You agreed, although you really weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to go home, curl up into a ball and cry, by yourself. At the same time, you desperately wanted a hug from your sister. You were just completely convinced that she wouldn’t be willing to do that.

-------

You walked into the house just behind Mapi, trying to take deep, steadying breaths. You were close to breaking down, and you didn’t really need to hear all the reasons that Ingrid had known this would happen. You didn’t need an ‘I told you so.’

Your sister was waiting for you in the entrance hall, pacing nervously, when you walked in.

“Solstråle! What happened? Are you okay?” Ingrid asked as soon as you were through the door, ignoring Mapi’s look that was clearly telling her to be cool.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. I want to be alone.” You said, pushing past her to head for the stairs. You heard Ingrid begin to go after you, but Mapi stopped her, telling her to give you a minute.

-------

You collapsed onto your bed, Scout jumping up next to you like he thought it was a game. You just wished it would just swallow you up. It was only a few minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching your door, like you knew they would. A soft knock on your door interrupted your crying, and you hastily wiped at your eyes. “Yeah?”

Ingrid peaked her head in. “I know you said you want to be alone, but I just wanted to check…” she said, trailing off when she saw you valiantly fighting your tears.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled, focusing on petting Scout, as opposed to looking at your sister.

“Honey, you aren’t.” Ingrid sighed, moving in closer to take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You’re upset, that’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Well, I am. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You asked bitingly, not really intending to snap so harshly at your sister, but not quite sure you felt like you could trust her at the moment.

“No, sweetheart, that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be wrong about her, solstråle, more than anything. I am so sorry things didn’t end well.”

“You aren’t glad that you’re right?” You asked, astonished. It didn't really make sense to you; all of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened to your sister. How could she be sorry for you when you’d blatantly ignored her advice?

Ingrid shook her head, her face painfully full of pity and sympathy. “No, not if it means that you’re hurting.”

“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to do with that. You’d been prepared to deal with this yourself. To be completely honest, you didn’t really feel like you deserved Ingrid’s support. You’d been so stupid not to listen to her. This was all your fault, really, and Ingrid shouldn’t have to deal with implications of something that was ultimately your mistake. “I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You said quietly, looking down, refusing to make eye contact with your sister.

“Don’t be sorry, solstråle.” Ingrid sighed. You looked so distraught, but you were leaning slightly away from your sister, like you were afraid to accept any comfort from her. Like suddenly, you weren’t sure you trusted her anymore. And though that hurt, Ingrid really couldn’t blame you. Not when the universe seemed so dead set on making you miserable. “What can I do?”

“I just want to be alone.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, completely invalidating your statement.

“No, you don’t. Look at me.” Ingrid instructed, waiting until you raised your head to look at her, very cautiously. “You’re allowed to be sad about this. No matter what happened, no matter what I said about her before. I never want to see you hurting. You don’t have to deal with this alone just because you made a mistake. Okay?”

You held your sister’s gaze for a few moments, before you slowly nodded your head. “I really liked her.” You whispered after a minute, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your sister.

“I know. Come here, honey,” Ingrid said, opening her arms for you to all but collapse into them. It was familiar, at this point, being held tightly in Ingrid’s arms. It never failed to make you feel better. And while Ingrid wished that things would just be easier for you, a very critical part of herself settled when you relaxed against her. The brunette was never quite sure she was doing a good enough job with you, but when you went to her when you were upset, allowed her to help you, even if it was rather hesitantly, it felt reassuring to her. It wasn’t full trust, but you were getting there. She must be doing something right if you were making progress.

“What would make you feel better?” Ingrid asked after a minute, smiling to herself at how Scout had settled himself with half his upper body draped across your legs.

“Nothing.” You replied pathetically. It wasn’t the first relationship you’d had, but it felt so much more significant than any of the others had. In just a few weeks, Camila had made herself one of the most important things in your life. You weren’t really sure how she managed it, but somehow, she’d gotten you to confess things you’d told very few people, learned more about you than many people did. And as soon as things had started to not go her way, she’d used all those things against you. It was the first time in a while that you’d really let yourself be fully vulnerable with someone, and it had backfired so horrifically. You were hurt, and you were embarrassed, but most of all, you were just sad.

You thought this was going to be a turning point for you, but you didn’t realize you’d given Camila all of the ammunition she’d needed to make sure it was the biggest setback you’d face. Not until you were lying in your bed, wanting nothing more than to disappear. You’d been nothing to her. That was a familiar feeling, something that made every cell in your body squirm with anxiety. It was happening again.

“What are you thinking?” Ingrid asked, interrupting your rapid stream of thoughts.

“Is it me? Do I just… make people want to treat me badly?” You asked. It wasn’t the first time you’d considered it, but that particular fear had been dormant since everything had happened in the last few weeks. Since Ingrid and Mapi had made it clear that they wanted you here with them. It was confusing and completely contradictory, your brain couldn’t really make sense of it. Your sister and her girlfriend must just be the exception.

“No.” Ingrid said firmly. “No. It isn’t you. You just have… bad luck. You make me and Mapi want to be better, Solstråle. Better for you, so that we can take care of you in the way that you deserve. You are good, Solstråle, and you deserve good, even when you don’t feel like it.”

For some reason, Ingrid’s words brought tears to your eyes. Good tears. “Well, I can’t have all bad luck. I get to be here with you two, and I don’t know if I would still be…” you trailed off, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. “You both saved my life, I think. The two of you wanting me here, and taking me in, that’s good luck.” You managed, sitting up and shifting so you were facing your sister, who looked one word away from bursting into tears herself.

“It’s not good luck, mi sol. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you should have had this whole time.” Mapi chimed in from the doorway, looking fondly at the two of you. Ingrid smiled at her in thanks, humming quietly in agreement with her girlfriend’s statement. The Spaniard wandered in closer, flopping onto the free space on your bed, causing a disgruntled Scout to shift, kicking Mapi lightly in the side. “That girl did not deserve you. And you’ll find someone who wants to treat you the way you deserve. You just can’t rush stuff like that, sí? It will come to you when it does.”

It was potentially the most frustrating advice to receive, but it made you feel better nonetheless.

“And she was kind of ugly.” Mapi said as an afterthought.

“Mapi!” You laughed, smiling a real smile. Both girls’ faces lit up at the sight of the smile on your face, and both of them were desperate for you to keep smiling, for your face not to fall into the sad frown it had been in for the past hour. The conversation lulled, and Ingrid’s mind raced, trying to think of what people liked to do after breakups. She’d been with Mapi for so long, she wasn’t sure she remembered.

“Do you want to lay in bed alone for the rest of your night, or do you want to watch a movie? Or we could go get ice cream. Or we could go shopping. Or on a run. Or-” Ingrid listed, only stopping when you cut her off.

“Sister movie night sounds good.” You said softly, unable to express in that moment how much you appreciated how hard she was trying. You knew ingrid probably wanted to talk, to hear everything that had happened, but she was learning to respect that you really only liked to talk when you felt like it. Which wasn’t often.

“Sister movie night, cool.” Ingrid said, trying to act like she wasn’t thrilled that you’d decided to be with her instead of requesting to be alone. “Go pick a movie, I’ll make popcorn.”

You all dragged yourselves off your soft comforter, having grown rather comfortable, and headed for your bedroom door.

“I’ll be in the garage.” Mapi said, smiling at both of you as she tried to wordlessly communicate that she knew you both wanted sister time, and it was okay that it didn’t include her. Both you and Ingrid froze, though, turning slightly to stare at her like she’d said something absurd.

“Don’t be stupid.” You said, rolling your eyes. “‘Sister movie night’ obviously means ‘sister and her live-in girlfriend’ movie night.”

Mapi looked a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. There were very few times that you just wanted to be with Ingrid, and those times were becoming less and less frequent as you began to depend on Mapi more and more. “You want me to watch with you?”

“Sí.” You said, almost exasperated. “Why wouldn’t I want you to hangout with us?”

“I just thought it was Engen sister time…” Mapi trailed off, looking uncharacteristically insecure.

“Engen León family time.” Ingrid amended, looking at you for approval. You nodded.

“Who else is going to talk the entire length of the film?” You asked, smirking and sprinting off down the stairs when Mapi gave you an offended look, Scout hot on your heels.

------

The movie had been a good distraction, not that Mapi or Ingrid really paid much attention to it. Instead, they kept glancing over at where you were curled up on the couch. Scout had taken his place next to you, one of his legs stretching out every now and then to kick in Mapi’s direction.

The conversation with them had obviously made you feel better, but they were still rather uneasy. You were acting completely normally, all of a sudden. And they didn’t buy it, not for a second. They weren’t sure what had happened, because you hadn’t said, but they knew that it wasn’t good. You’d been infatuated with Camila, and now you were reluctant to speak her name. Whatever had gone on had hurt you, deeply, but in the span of a few hours, you were acting like you were completely fine.

To you, it just felt like there was no use in thinking about it anymore. Crying over what happened, being sad or angry with Camila wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make you feel better. You’d very logically taken stock of your emotions, before deciding that they were completely useless. You were fine.

Well, maybe not, but you would be fine. Especially if you acted like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t questioning every choice you’d made with Camila. Like you didn’t hate yourself. Emotions only had power if you gave it to them, you decided. Before, you might have been angry. Now, though, you just… forced it all off, far away. No feeling anything until it hurt less to think about what had happened.

It seemed like a good plan to you, and you stuck to it. Even when you couldn’t fall asleep that night, your mind swirling with horrible thoughts as you tried to push them away. Eventually, you gave up, putting on a show and forcing yourself to focus on that, instead.

It was obvious that you hadn’t slept the next morning, walking down to the kitchen like a zombie. Ingrid and Mapi were hoping you’d be a little more forthcoming with what had occurred today, but all hopes of that went out the window when you avoided eye contact with them, a hood pulled over your head, dark bags under your eyes. At least you there was no school, as you had the day off, but they had training, training they couldn’t miss. Neither of them felt very good about leaving you home alone, with no idea what was going on in your head.

You were blankly shoveling cereal into your mouth when Ingrid got your attention.

“Solstråle!” She said rather loudly. You jumped slightly, looking across the table at her in confusion. “I said your name 5 times. Did you not hear me?”

Ingrid didn’t sound mad, just worried, and you felt your throat tighten.

No. No. No tears. No sadness. That wouldn’t help. Self pity wouldn’t help. The only thing to do was to move forward.

“Sorry. I’m just tired. Had coffee too late yesterday, couldn't sleep.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the ceramic bowl in front of you. Your thoughts wandered, briefly, to the fact that since you’d moved in, there hadn’t been a single day where there wasn’t a box of your favorite cereal in the pantry. You really must have been feeling the complete lack of sleep, because that thought alone almost had you tearing up.

“Come to training today. María is out on the grass, again, you can watch.” Ingrid suggested softly.

You shook your head though, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be far from them, but you also knew that if they kept being so nice to you, you weren’t going to be able to keep it together.

“I’m really tired, I just want to stay here.” You replied. Ingrid looked like she wanted to argue, but Mapi nodded from where she stood at the fridge, filling her water.

“That’s okay. Stay here, have a chill day. We’ll be back after lunch.” She walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder kindly. The Spaniard said goodbye, before exiting the kitchen. Ingrid hung back, not really caring at all that she might make them late.

Your sister stood from her spot at the table, and you mumbled a quiet goodbye, only looking up when she came to stand right next to you. Her hand pulled your hood down, her fingers tilting your chin up to look at her. Her face was pinched with concern, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were doing this again. Making them worry about you.

“Try to sleep or something? You looked exhausted, sweetheart. No runs or hikes or climbs, please. Just stay here?” Ingrid asked, making sure to frame her request as a question, and not a command.

“Okay.” You agreed, far too tired to even think about any of those things. You knew Ingrid just wanted you to stay where she knew you were, which was fine. You were honestly just surprised she hadn’t dragged you to training with her.

She lightly patted your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Be good. I love you.”

“Love you too. Play safe.”

You were wide awake, completely wired. Even as everything inside of you told you that you should be tired, you felt like you might never sleep again. You kept your promise to your sister, though, collapsing onto the couch and putting a show on. Scout came to lay with you, falling asleep easily in your lap. You were jealous of your dog, you realized. It was an amusing thought, but all you felt was… Empty. Nothing. Because if you let yourself laugh, you were sure it would turn into sobs, and you couldn’t do that.

You just had to be strong.

-------

You got into bed early that night, hoping that the added time laying down would help you fall asleep. You were so exhausted, truly, but as you laid in bed at 8pm, you knew instinctively that you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Everytime you drifted off, your thoughts drifted too, and you’d jerk awake, struck with a reminder of what Camila had said. Her words were haunting you. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the sneer on her face as she spoke, and hear the cruel words she’d spoken.

You were beginning to think she was right about you. How were you so screwed up after a relationship ended that had only lasted a few weeks to begin with? You thought you loved her, yes, but you were being dramatic. You shouldn’t be this devastated, and in your head, this only reinforced that idea that Camila had been right. You were too immature. You were too messed up. No one was ever going to want to deal with you.

A soft knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts, thankfully.

“Come in,” you called. Mapi pushed the door open, taking in the rather unnaturally clean room around her. You’d gone crazy cleaning the night before, putting away all the clothes strewn across the floor. It was neat and clutter free in there now, and Mapi’s heart melted at the sight of the framed photo on your nightstand. It was of the three of you, a candid that Frido had taken after a match. It was little things like this that made Mapi deeply happy, and deeply sad all at once. For six months you’d lived here, and they’d given you the space they thought you needed. It was so far from what you actually needed, though, and Mapi couldn’t help the guilt that filled her at the thought. All she and Ingrid could do now, though, was do better.

So, she entered your room, holding out a mug towards you. It was the one she’d picked out at Ikea, the one with the map and the sun. You knew for a fact that you’d used it this morning for your coffee, which meant Mapi must have pulled it out of the dishwasher and hand washed it herself, so she could bring it up to you.

“I made you tea.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you grabbed the mug from her.

“Did you think caffeine would help me sleep?” You asked skeptically.

She rolled her eyes. “No, idiota, it is sleepytime tea. There’s no caffeine.”

You took a cautious sip, smiling a bit when you liked the taste.

“My mami always made it for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Mapi said quietly. “Thought it might help tonight since you decided to become nocturnal yesterday.”

Ingrid and Mapi really toed the line of parent vs. sister / guardian. It was often a sisterly relationship, you thought, with both of them. When you would tease each other, or argue about borrowing their clothes. Other times, it felt completely parent-y. When they’d make you go to bed early, or annoy you about studying for a test.

This situation definitely fell into the latter category, and you found that you minded it less and less.

“It’s good.” You told her, taking another sip. “And I didn’t decide to become nocturnal. It just kind of happened.”

Mapi hummed, looking around the room again. You just had the string lights above your bed on, the room lit also by the soft glow of the TV, as your favorite sitcom played. You’d lit a candle, and you were bundled up under the covers of your bed, clearly trying hard to be comfortable. Clearly trying very hard to sleep.

You looked so tired, it made her heart ache, and she knew Ingrid felt the same. Ingrid, who Mapi was absolutely sure was hovering outside the door, not wanting to overwhelm you. You seemed… fragile. Like you were one step away from breaking at any given moment, and neither of them wanted that to happen before you were ready. Ingrid was just as worried about you, though, and she’d only agreed not to go in if Mapi promised to make you promise something.

“Can you promise to wake us up tonight if you can’t sleep?” Mapi said finally, looking intently at you.

With a sigh, you shrugged. “What good would that do?”

“You wouldn’t have to be alone.” Mapi said simply, watching as a flicker of emotion flashed across your face. You didn’t have to be alone anymore. Sometimes you forgot. “If you don’t promise, Ingrid is probably going to come in here every hour or something and check on you.”

With a roll of your eyes, and a big sigh that you didn’t really mean, you nodded. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mapi grinned. “Goodnight, mi sol. Te quiero.”

“Goodnight.” You replied. “Tell Ingrid in the hall goodnight too.”

The Spaniard chuckled. “I will. Sleep tight.”

With that, she leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before she slipped out of the room. Hushed whispers came from the hall and you smiled to yourself, just a bit. Ingrid was such a weirdo sometimes.

-------

It was around 2am when you broke. You’d tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, and nothing had worked. Worse, the lack of sleep was really getting to you and you were feeling ridiculously emotional. When you promised Mapi you’d wake them up if you couldn’t sleep again, you hadn’t meant it. Now, though, as you lay awake in your bed, tears threatening to fall, you really didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure how they could help, or even if you wanted help, but you knew that the indisputably healthy choice to make here would be to go to them. And you were trying to be better for yourself.

Even as Camila’s words rattled around in your head, and you were half convinced you were an awful person, about to become even worse by waking Ingrid and Mapi up, you got up from your bed, and walked down the hall.

There were a lot of notable moments in your time in Spain. A lot of them consisted of long, emotional talks with Ingrid and Mapi. And you knew that this was likely what you were headed for. It was naive to think you could hold everything that had happened in, keep it all to yourself. Especially when you’d kind of gotten used to sharing things with them, as horrifying as that thought was. You weren’t nervous, like usual, though. You just wanted them to tell you that everything she’d said was wrong.

Scout followed you down the hall, slightly annoyed that you’d woken him up when you got up. He liked to sleep with some part of him touching you, so it was inevitable that when you woke, Scout did too. Your sister’s bedroom door was open, and you peeked in, half second guessing yourself. Both of them were asleep. It was a cool night, by Barcelona’s standards, which was obvious by Mapi’s sweatshirt and sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, as well as the extra blanket pulled over her. Ingrid, on the other hand, had kicked the comforter off of her, sleeping in just a tshirt and shorts. They were laying facing each other, their hands tangled together, like they’d fallen asleep talking.

They were sleeping. They’d had a long week. They had training the following day. You shouldn’t wake them. They looked comfortable and peaceful, and you shouldn’t ruin that. You turned to go back to your room, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

You were sure you hadn’t made any noise, but still, a whispered voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Solstråle?” Ingrid asked quietly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It evidently didn’t work, because not a second later, Ingrid was flicking the lamp on, looking at you with a sympathetic expression on her face. Next to your sister, her girlfriend huffed in annoyance, still practically asleep, pulling the covers up and over her head. Ingrid rolled her eyes, before fixing her attention back on you.

“Come here.” Ingrid instructed, gesturing you closer to the bed. You walked over, feeling ridiculously like a small child waking their parents up after a bad dream. “You can’t sleep?”

“No.” You said miserably, roughly wiping away a stray tear.

“How can I help? Do you want to talk?” She asked worriedly, brutally kicking Mapi in the shin as she did so, thinking that her girlfriend would be somewhat helpful in this situation, even if she was half asleep. The Spaniard grumbled unhappily, but emerged from under the covers just as you responded.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.” You whispered, truly not confident that anything could make you feel better in that moment.

Mapi sat up, patting the middle of the bed invitingly. It was a king, and there was plenty of room, but you looked between her and Ingrid skeptically.

“I’m not a child.” You said a bit harshly, thinking of Camila calling you immature. If only she could see you now.

“We know. You just broke up with your girlfriend, though, and you haven’t slept in over a day. You are sad and exhausted, and it isn’t childish to need help.” Mapi said kindly, very dramatically scooching over so there was more room for you.

You floundered for a minute, not quite sure what to do. You were an adult. An adult. And Ingrid and Mapi were not your parents. The appeal was there, though, to climb into the bed and tell them everything. To let yourself break when you knew they’d keep track of all the pieces, and put you back together. “Can I have more tea?” You blurted out, looking at Mapi. You weren’t really sure where that came from, but she nodded enthusiastically, rising from the bed, practically taking off for the kitchen in a sprint.

“I’ll go make some!”

You turned back to Ingrid, chewing aggressively on your lip. She rolled her eyes at you, teasingly, before she pointendly looked between you and the bed.

“Get in the damn bed.” Ingrid sighed. It was easier, when she was telling you exactly what to do, because you didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong answer. You settled on the bed, right in the middle, and Ingrid threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lean your head on her shoulder.

“Ingrid?” You said after a minute, so quietly, your sister almost missed it.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think I’m immature?” You asked.

Ingrid thought for a moment. “No. I think you’ve had to grow up really fast, and you’ve had to make a lot of big adjustments. You are more mature because of all of that. Why?”

You knew she would hate what you were going to say. “Camila said I was.”

Ingrid grew tense next to you. “That’s because she was a 26 year old woman dating an 18 year old. What was she fucking expecting?” Ingrid said venomously.

Mapi walked back into the room, taking care to be quiet, as it looked like you were deep in thought. She placed the mug of tea on her nightstand before she sat on the bed next to you, turning so she could see your face.

“Did she say anything else?” Ingrid asked cautiously.

You opened your mouth to tell her that, no, Camila hadn’t said anything else. Instead, words flowed out of your mouth that you hadn’t decided to say, but you were unable to contain them. “She called me jealous and immature. She said the ‘mommy issues’ were really obvious, that I was insecure and clingy, and that I wasn’t worth it. That no one would want to put up with me.”

You said it so forlornly, so resigned to what this awful woman had told you, Ingrid felt an anger she’d never experienced before rise within her. Neither she nor Mapi knew what to say right away, collecting their thoughts. You broke the silence again, though, after only a few seconds.

“I think she’s right.” You said, your voice breaking clearly. You pressed your hands to your face, body shaking with silent sobs.

“No, mi sol, no,” Mapi said softly, scooting closer to rest a hand on your knee.

Ingrid took a breath, trying to swallow her anger, rubbing your arm with her hand comfortingly. “Solstråle, you are none of those things. That awful woman has no idea who you are, not really. You are not immature, you are 18. There is a huge difference. And you are so much more than what happened with mom. You are so many good things despite mom, sweetheart, and Camila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wanted to hurt you, none of that is true.” Ingrid said insistently.

“Why would she want to hurt me? I thought she liked me. I don’t understand.” You replied, still keeping your face hidden away in your hands.

“Because she isn’t a good person, and she doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t understand because you are good, mi sol. So good.”

“Then why do such horrible things keep happening?” You asked, voice raised slightly in frustration. You pulled your hands away from your face, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with a tearstained, bewildered face. “I’m trying to be good, I’m trying so hard, why is this so hard?”

Both girls felt their hearts break a little at your words. Ingrid wrapped both her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as you cried. “I know, Solstråle, it’s not fair. It’s going to get better. I promise you, it is.”

“I’m tired of everything being so hard.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly as you spoke. You felt a soft hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, felt Ingrid leave a kiss on your forehead. “I’m tired.”

You meant it figuratively, and literally, and Mapi and Ingrid knew that very well. The best thing they could do for you now, would be to get you calm enough to sleep. It was happening without them trying very hard, honestly. You could barely keep your eyes open, even as soft sobs fell from your mouth.

“It’s not going to be hard forever. I promise you, mi sol.” Mapi said, looking intently at you, though you didn’t look back at her.

“I’m so tired.” You repeated, barely making sense. You were almost delirious with exhaustion, your emotional outburst only making it worse.

“Sleep, solstråle. We are right here. Everything will feel better in the morning. You aren’t going to feel like this forever. Just relax, and sleep. We love you so much.”

And even as you nodded, all the fight and worry of being too much for them flooding from your body, you wondered if they were right. If everything would feel better.

If anyone would ever really want you.

You drifted off ridiculously easily, curled up next to your sister, your brain going quiet for the first time in days. Once Ingrid was sure you were asleep, she turned to her girlfriend, who was tucking the blankets around you nice and tight.

“I am going to kill that girl.” Ingrid murmured, feeling absurdly protective over you.

“I will kill her first.” Mapi vowed.

“She isn’t allowed to date again until she’s 50.” Ingrid said, a frown etched on her face.

Mapi cracked a smile. “Good luck with that, mi amor.”

Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t stand to see her like this.”

The Spaniard turned serious again, nodding her agreement. “It’s gonna get better, Ingrid. It’s not going to be perfect, but she’s already better. She just needs time.”

“I wish I could take it from her, so she could just be happy all the time.” Ingrid admitted, flicking the lamp off, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I do too.” Mapi whispered back. She and Ingrid looked at each other over your slumbering form, each seeing their exact feelings reflected in the other’s face, even with their features obscured by darkness. They just wanted things to be better for you. Easier and lighter and happier. They’d do anything, get you the moon if you wanted it. They didn’t consider if they were giving you all they could, that maybe you needed something else. They just promised themselves that they wouldn’t rest until you were happier, whatever it took. Whatever it took for you, because you were their sol, and nothing on earth was more important to them than your happiness.

-------

my name is girlgenius1111 and i like to make my fictional kid suffer give me all your thoughts on this installment of sol ☀️

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️#woso one shot #woso fanfics

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rapilne · 1 month

Text

-Ice Cold

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: sub!beomgyu, sex (?) this contains smut, not proofread, MDNI, beomgyu pov-ish

a/n: no summary cause i couldn't tell you what this is about. this is my first time writing anything like this, i wrote it on my notes so im not sure how many words there are, i think too many, this is without a doubt too long, pls bear with me. also english is not my first language, if something doesn't make sense well idk figure it out pretty pls, thankssss 🫶

"she's my girlfriend," beomgyu said, his expression a mask of utter sincerity.

his words hung in the air, the silence filled with unspoken questions.

yeonjun squinted at him, scrutinizing his face before glancing at taehyun then back at him. "so, you're saying… you have like a crush on her?"

an exasperated sigh escaped beomgyu. “what? no!" he protested "i mean, yes? wait no..” he closed his eyes and said slowly “… it’s like i said it. she’s my girlfriend for real.”

the weight of his words hanged heavily, yet his friends remained speechless, drinks on their hands and stares like daggers.

beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do to stop them from looking at him like that.

"i just don't understand what's so surprising about it," he muttered, a pout forming on his lips.

—

choi beomgyu had always been the epitome of charisma. from his looks to his charm, whether he stepped into a crowded room or sauntered down a bustling street, all eyes gravitated toward him, and once you got an interaction, you will just want him to sty forever.

he was well-known and well-liked everywhere he went: university corridors, his guitar lessons, basketball practice, even the corner store near his apartment. everyone seemed to gravitate toward him, drawn in by his undeniable charm.

he likes to think he got that from his mother.

beomgyu, reveling in the spotlight, thrived on the attention. the way people's faces lit up upon his arrival was a drug he couldn't resist.

specially when he is so used to getting his way. always obtaining whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it, never in a malicious or manipulative way, he was bold, confident, overly friendly and people loved him. asking was usually all it took.

so, all things considered, he'd never struggled to draw the attention of those he found attractive. one could almost say he had his pick of the litter.

he thinks it might be true.

that is the reason why setting his sights on you should be the most foolish thing beomgyu has ever done in his entire existence. and yet, there he was, unable to resist the pull, despite the warning bells ringing in the depths of his mind.

from the first time he met you, in his advanced music business class, it was as though you existed in a world entirely apart from his own. not responding to any of his advances was an odd sight for him.

initially, he brushed it off, attributing it to a fleeting lapse or perhaps an uncharacteristic bad mood on your part. after all, he reasoned, he was an attention seeker, but he certainly wasn't a psychopath.

yet, after you acted the same way the next time, and the next, and the next time he tried to talk to you, he couldn’t help but take it personally.

he soon realized it wasn't merely a matter of wounded ego. from the very first meeting, he had mustered his most charming smile just for you. after all, he thought you might just be the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life. and after just a few classes, he realized you were also one of the smartest people he knew.

it’s been a long while, but everything about you seemed to snag his attention, like you were the main character in a movie and he couldn't take his eyes off the screen.

so, whyy you, out of everyone, had to be the one to him the cold shoulder like that? or even better, why couldn’t he just like someone who liked him back?

he soon came to find out, thanks to his seat mate, jun, that your behavior was not uncommon.

he couldn't shake off the words his friend had offered in consolation: "don't sweat it, she's like that with pretty much everyone."

of course, in true beomgyu fashion, he couldn't help but sweat it.

he did pick up on your vibe—not shy at all, like he thought at first, but definitely serious and reserved— still, he wasn't accustomed to blending in with the crowd like that; being treated like “pretty much everyone” didn't sit right with him.

"it's all so high school," jun chuckled then, shaking his head. "but seriously, they actually nicknamed her the ice queen.”

now it seems like getting on your good side might be a task for the gods.

good thing he is known for always getting what he wants.

—

taking a sip of boba should never be this unpleasant. except that time he order matcha when he meant taro, beomgyu has always treated his boba runs as a particularly happy time. right now though, it isn’t going so well. especially when yeonjun goes “you’re fucking lying,” with a snickering tone.

“i only lied when i told you that mesh shirt you’re wearing was a look.”

“how dare you”

beomgyu then stands up and looks at the counter. there are only a couple of tapioca pearls left on his drink and he thinks he might ask for some more. are tapioca pearls refills allowed in this place? he doesn’t think they’re allowed anywhere, but he might as well ask.

“ok, ok, sit back down hyung,” taehyun tugs him from his arm, “when did this even happened?”

“i only have like two tapioca pearls left,” beomgyu ignores him and yeonjun goes, “he is talking about boba because he is lying.” he laughs. “there is no way. not even for you, gyu.”

“look, i don’t know what is so unbelievable about me and y/n being together now,”

“y/n and me,” taehyun corrects

“what?”

“the correct way to say it is ‘y/n and me’, not ‘me and y/n,” taehyun looks at beomgyu after sipping his own cup, “it can depend on the context of the sentence, like both are grammatically correct, but ‘y/n and me’ is considered mo-“

“what on actual fucking earth are you talking about?“

“that is literally not important!” yeonjun interrupts them both with a loud voice, “can we please come back to the topic and know why are you lying about y/n being your girlfriend?”

beomgyu glares at yeonjun, throwing his straw to the trashcan right next to them. they came in quite late to the boba shop and didn’t get the best table. it is a popular place after all.

“for the millionth time, yeonjun, i’m not lying!” he says with wide eyes. “what is it that you want? i can call her right now, put her on speaker and asker to tell you how much she likes me, yeah?”

yeonjun narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. “do it.”

“you’re fucking kidding me-“

the door chimes and yeonjun’s attention is momentarily taken by the sound. beomgyu takes advantage of this and quickly sizes his cup only to realize his mistake too late and have the matcha flavor assaulting his taste buds. he thinks it is a pretty cruel trick on the universe’s part.

he chokes back a gag and it’s impossible for taehyun to not roll his eyes. he appears to be inmune to beomgyu’s charm, consequences of their close friendship.

yeonjun’s laughter fills the air once he realizes what happened. “that’s what you get,“ he says.

“how can you drink that?”

“matcha is tasty,” with a grin on his face, yeonjun shrugs.

“matcha is a sin,” beomgyu retorts, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

taehyun's interruption brought a halt to the conversation. “the way you are just unwilling to talk about it makes me think that yeonjun might be onto something,” he muses, propping his chin on his hand.

“why would i lie about me being in a relationship with someone?”

“you tell us,” yeonjun says mockingly.

taehyun fixes him with a pointed look. “yeonjun stop,” he says and then looks at this other friend, “beomgyu, it is not really about you being in a relationship. it is about with who.”

“what’s is wrong with y/n?” he asks with a pout on his lips.

“oh nothing,” yeonjun scoffs. “except everyone says she is quite literally a bi-“

beomgyu's voice cut through the air with a sharp edge, his tone tinged with seriousness. "watch it, yeonjun,.” he warned, his gaze unwavering.

yeonjun raised his eyebrows, surprised by beomgyu's sudden change in demeanor. "i was just going to say she's quite literally a big fan of not making friends,” he finished instead, eyes wide.

taehyun intervened swiftly, sensing the tension rising. "beomgyu," he began, his tone soft, "i'm not doubting your feelings, but we kind of know y/n's reputation. she's known for being... distant, self-centered even. i just don't want to see you get hurt because you're too trusting."

taehyun's words struck a chord with beomgyu, but before he could respond, yeonjun chimed in, his voice tinged with remorse. "he's right, gyu," he admitted, a hint of regret on his tone. “and i'm sorry about before. but still, you need to be careful. y/n... people have tried to get close to her before, and it hasn't gone well."

beomgyu's heart sank at yeonjun's words, the weight of their implications settling heavily on his shoulders.

"look," he begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of conviction and uncertainty, "y/n is different, okay? she's not like anyone else i've ever met. and maybe i haven't been completely open about it because... because i know how you guys get. but i mean it when i say i’ve known her like other people haven’t. she is good.”

there's a pause as beomgyu searches for the right words, a shadow of vulnerability flickering across his features. "she's not just some stereotype or rumor," he continues, "there's more to her than that ‘ice queen’ nonsense."

as the trio leave the place, beomgyu sips on his refilled boba. turns out they definitely don’t do refills, but, “just for you,” they said.

he even got another straw.

—

“and that’s my problem how?” you asked with straight expression.

the girl in front of you stumbled over her words, her voice quivering as she tries to play it off with a quiet laugh. "i-i’m not saying it's your problem," she began cautiously. "but, like, your signature could totally convince mr. yang to extend the due date. if we all get on board, he'd have to at least consider it. please?”

"no," you reply.

she blinks, caught off guard. “wait, what? i mean, i’m sorry?"

leaning back, taking a sip of your iced coffee, you return your gaze to your book. “you’re good,” you say in an almost nonchalant tone. "i’d just rather not be disturbed while i’m reading.”

she recoils, her nervous vibe replaced by incredulity. "i'm not apologizing to you!" she snaps back before taking a deep breath. "i just—why not? it literally doesn’t hurt you at all to sign? we really need your help y/n. it will even give you more time to finish your own stuff! ”

"already finished it,” you say, not even making eye contact.

she let out a surprised squeak, but recovered quickly.

"well, i guess that's cool for you," she muttered. "but, like, we need your signature or mr. yang won't even look at the petition.”

nothing from your part.

mr. yang was a no-nonsense professor who smelled of tobacco and liked to look at everyone over his glasses as to remind you he is much more smarter than you. he hands out tough tasks, but always provides the necessary materials to complete them. though you weren't his favorite student, and he certainly wasn't your favorite teacher, you excelled in his class, meeting his high expectations. but you worked hard to get things done.

"look,” she sighed, “i know you're really smart, but some of us are really… struggling.“ she sighed sadly. ”it's taking forever to get through the text he sent, you know? if we all, like, come together and help each other out, we could totally make it happen. i don’t think he’d said no. what do you say?" she finished, giving you this hopeful look.

a look that was met with silence.

"y/n?" she tries again.

anna, the heroine in your book, seems genuinely tormented and you’re really starting to feel bad for her. if only she didn’t chose the red door. the blue door was the obvious right choice, but she decided to be adventurous. now, she will probably die. can vampires die? they can, you remember. in twilight, you have to cut them in little pieces and-

"hello?! earth to y/n?" you hear a loud voice in front of your face.

you glance up. right, the ‘help us change the due date’ girl from your class. can’t really say you remember her name.

“you're still here?" you ask flatly. can people get any more annoying?

"oh my god, seriously?!" she practically yells this time. "i can't believe you're such a bitch!"

suddenly, and before things could escalate further, beomgyu swoops in, looking all concerned. "whoa, what's going on?" he asks, his guitar hanging on his shoulder. “i heard yelling.”

beomgyu looks exceptionally good today, you decide. his dark, long hair framing his beautiful face, and eyes so deep and brown, you could not wait to get him alone…

"hey, beomie," you greet him with a smile. "nothing much. ready to leave?"

you've been waiting for him to finish his composition class. your own class got cut short, and you were ready to head home, but beomgyu insisted on spending the rest of the day with you, asking if you could wait for his class to end.

there's someone you can't say no to, and that's choi beomgyu, you've come to realize.

without waiting for an answer, you toss your book into your bag, grab your iced coffee, and take his hand, leading him towards the exit. your classmate watches you with wide eyes, speechless with incredulity. beomgyu glances back a little confused, offering her an apologetic smile and a quick wave as if to to smooth things over.

once outside, hand in hand, beomgyu asks carefully, "what was that?"

"oh, nothing at all,” you brush it off.

"she seemed mad," he remarks, and you stop in your tracks, making him stumble a little.

"did she? i didn't notice," you say, teasingly. "but i did notice i haven't kissed you yet."

with a playful glint in your eyes, you tilt his chin up with one hand and lean in, closing the distance between you as your lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss. beomgyu sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"you're the sweetest," he whispers against your lips, screaming girls all forgotten.

—

“look at this video i took on saturday,” jun leans over the table to show a clip to beomgyu as they sat with a couple of his classmates at the uni cafe. beomgyu recognizes the place as the han river, and the performers on the clip as a dance team yeonjun showed him before.

“oh, i know them!” he says with a big smile, “they’re sooo good. don’t you think they should be like performing on music videos or something?”

“they should,” jun agrees. “i’ve seen them on tiktok though, and they’re making really big numbers.”

“oh shit, yeah, me too! i keep telling y/n to come with me to see them whenever yeonjun tells me they have a showcase.”

this caught the attention of gina, a girl from his music production class “i’m sorry, but i still can't believe you're with her, gyu.” she remarks shaking his head incredulously.

beomgyu looks up from his phone to give her a questioning look, “what?”

“ah, she’s right” hyunjin says through bites of his ham sandwich, "i mean, she's smoking hot, but she's also a total ice queen."

beomgyu glares at him. "come on, not this again, not with the higschool nickname stuff” he defended “she is not an ice anything, you calling her that is cringe. i’ll have you know, she is really sweet, actually.”

"sweet? seriously, beomgyu?" hyejin chimed in, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "every time i've tried talking to her, she acts like i don't even exist."

“sh-“

"yeah, and remember when she snapped at mark for accidentally bumping into her? it was like she thought she was too good to even acknowledge him."

“but-“

"and what about that time she ignored seungmin’s text asking for help with the assignment? she could have at least replied!”

beomgyu's heart sank as he listened to his friends.

“remember last week? what she did to lilly? the stuff with the signatures? honestly, she is such a bitch sometimes…”

before beomgyu could respond, you happened to walk past their table, expression as frosty as ever. misinterpreting their conversation, you shot beomgyu a hurt look before walking away.

"great, now she thinks we're all talking behind her back," gina mutters with a wary look on her face.

beomgyu watches you go away, his heart sinking with the weight of the misunderstanding, realizing you must think you were talking bad about her too.

he stands up abruptly, “for the record,” he interjects with a sharp voice “this better be the last time i hear any of you calling her names, i won't stand for anyone disrespecting her. we’re done.”

glaring at all of them, he turned and strode out of the café, leaving his former friends speechless. outside, he quickened his pace, determined to catch up to you and make things right before it was too late.

—

the doorbell rings incessantly, echoing through the hallway as beomgyu refuses to give up. he's been following you from the school building to your apartment, his determination evident in every step he takes. but despite his efforts, you continued to ignore him, driving him to the brink of frustration.

beomgyu knows he's pushing it, but the thought of you disregarding him like this drives him crazy. with each ring of the doorbell, he feels a surge of desperation, making him want to rip all his hair out.

he keeps ringing the bell and knocking on the door with urgency. he's fully aware that he's risking disturbing the neighbors, they may even call the police.

he’ll risk going to jail for you, he thinks.

finally, the door swings open with a sharp smack, and you're standing there, glaring at him. "knock it off!" you yell, frustration evident in your voice.

despite your fiery eyes, he’s just glad to see your face.

"i'm sorry," beomgyu blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. “but i am sorry you had to listen to that, not sorry because i was agreeing with them or anything, because i was not. i definitely was not, in fact i was letting them know how wonderful and sweet you are, is honestly what i always do. they’re not even my friends anymore. i literally ended it with them. i let them know, oh fuck, i always let everyone know you’re perfect and sweet and the best person i've ever met in my life and that i'm just so so lucky to have you and i love you more than anything and i don’t care about what anyone says because you’re always so, so good to me.”

his words spill out in a jumbled mess, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. beomgyu's desperation is palpable, his rambling emotions laid bare.

you stare at beomgyu, your expression neutral, as his words hang in the air between you. his eyes search yours desperately and, for a moment, he thinks he might have finally pushed you too far, that his rambling confession may have been a mistake.

but then, without warning, you break the tension with two simple words. "come in," you say.

relief floods beomgyu's features as he exhales a shaky breath, the weight lifting from his shoulders. without hesitation, he steps through the doorway, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

—

beomgyu is standing right in front of you, in your bed, with red cheeks in anticipation.

“beomie, do you think i’m a bitch?” you ask with a teasing pout on your lips.

“no! no, no, no i don’t” he responds, looking up at you with puppy eyes, long lashes and a slight frown on his face

“correct,” you concede, putting his hair behind his ear softly “you were dying for me to even look at you, beomie, so i did. how can i be a bitch when i give all you the attention you so desperately beg from me?”

beomgyu exhales, clearing his throat to prevent himself for making any noise. you look down at him, his dark hair, indolent eyes and pouting lips. so pretty, just for you.

“answer me.”

“you’re not, you are so good to me, you’re always so good to me.” he whines, but somehow his voice gets lower. aching to touch you, but keeping his hands on his side, just like he was told.

“that’s right.” you go down and crawl between his thighs slowly. he feels hot wherever you touch him. “i’m so good to you…” you concede as you reach out with confident fingers and grab the waist of his pants and start drawing them down. you pause halfway, though. a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "but, do you deserve it, beomie?" you ask, your tone laced with mock concern.

beomgyu's breath escapes him in rapid bursts, too stunned to speak, but he knows better than not to answer you.

“no..” he chockes out “i don’t deserve it, don’t deserve you.”

“you’re right, you don’t deserve any of it,” you remind him, “good thing i’m so wonderful and sweet right?” you mock as you shove the rest of his pants and underwear down in a quick motion.

his cock comes up against his stomach, twitchy and veiny and your mouth is watering at the sight in front of you, wanting nothing more than for him to cum down your throat. but today is not the day.

beomgyu chews down hard on his lip and closes his eyes at the feeling of you liberating his length. he’s always been too sensitive, but with you he feels like it’s always the first time.

“open your eyes, beomie,” you tell him. “i want you to see and remember what you have to be grateful for.”

he opens his eyes in an instant just for him to watch you slowly wrap your mouth around his tip. he sucks in a a hiss and let’s out a groan when you draw your lips with a light pressure down his cock until he hits the back of your throat, only to come back up and leave a trail of saliva along the way.

“fuuck,” he lets out with a trembling breath. “oh my god”

you put him on your mouth again and swirl your tongue around him, he hits the start of your throat once again and slide up and down, up and down. you wrapped your lips around his tip one more time before running the flat of your tongue up his cock slowly and you stare directly into his eyes,

beomgyu is a mess of flushed skin and teary eyes and can’t stop whimpering at the feeling and sight of you using your mouth on him, he swallows, throat dry and bites his bottom lip to prevent him from spluttering nonsense.

“i don- don’t know if i can- fuuuck- i- i can’t.. can’t hold it, fuck y/n , you’re so- so good to me-“

with his hands on your hair loosing himself to the feeling of your mouth on him, you can’t help but moan on his cock as you can already taste his pre-cum on your tongue, threatening to spill past your lips. you take you mouth off of him. “beomie, don’t cum yet-“ you say between licks, before spitting on him, lubricating and using your hand instead “- baby, hold it in, not yet.”

“i- i can’t, i can’t” he cries and you stop, his chest going up and down aggressively before lifting his face to look up at you. lips red and shinny from biting hard and cheeks rosy from all the pleasure. you think he has never look this pretty.

he sits up trembling, looking at you you slide your drenched panties off. then you straddle his lap, looking at his red erection up and proud, tip right at your entrance, and without any warning, you take his cock in your hand go down on him inch by inch, his arms coming around your torso in desperation as you hold yourself up wrapping yours around his neck, holding each other so close you could feel echother’s heartbeat.

you completely sink down on him and you both gasp, automatically making you clench around him.

“fuuck, baby” beomgyu hissed. his hands coming down to your waist to keep you in place, he’s afraid he would cum in a second if you moved an inch. “don’t move, please”

so, you raised your hips and you both let out a breathy moan as you sat back down again. he whines.

“you can do it beomie, hold it baby” you purr in his mouth. repeating the action again and again. “don’t you want me to fuck you?”

“ye- yes please,- fuuuck yes” he cries, holding you close. always eager to please, he lets you do as you want. obeying you just in time for him to become a whimpering mess.

it was embarrassing, really, how affected he got in literal seconds. and you, with the sensation of having his cock filling you up, couldn’t help but use him like a toy.

“good boy,” you sing softly, breath hitching. “good, good boy. i knew you would let me use you like this. kne- knew you would like to make me happy. right beomie? because you love me? you want to- oh my god” you whine, bouncing up and down on him with urgency, felling him thus up to meet you halfway. “you want to make me feel good”

beomgyu feels like fire inside you, feeling you squeezing him so tight he feels himself closer and closer. he takes his hand from your waist to massage your breasts, knowing how sensitive your nipples are, making you sigh, earning him a kiss so lewd he’ll dream about it. “yes, thank you, please,” he cries, “i want- i want-“

“you can’t even talk beomie!” you chuckle dryly, “wh-what would your friends say if they saw you like this? huh?” you whispered on his mouth, the feeling so good its sending your blood rushing to your head as you keep fucking him stupid.

“their proud, confident beomgyu is just- fuck” you gasp at the feeling of his lips closing around your nipple, ”just a dirty slut? huh” you throw your head back to give him more access as you continue to bounce on his cock “ a begging little whore is what you are beomie”

he feels himself closer and closer, your dirty talking sending him over the edges he pleads, “just for you, i swear is just for you, i love you”

“good boy” you panted on his mouth again, feeling the sensation of your orgasm looming over your body and beomgyu was hit with the staggering force of his release as he came inside you, calling out your name in pleading gasps.

you blinked almost sleepily, looking down at your boyfriend and his post-fuck look, a small smile on his face as you leaned down to place a little kiss on his nose.

“love you too, pup.” you sighed.

—

not matcha, but not taro, either.

beomgyu feels like trying something new as he looks at the menu. the scent of sweet tapioca and freshly brewed tea surrounds you two and he thinks this is exactly what dreams are made of, yet deciding on just the right drink feels like an impossible task right this second.

so he scans the menu, his eyes flickering between the various options. yeonjun said their new horchata drink was good, but he doesn’t trust yeonjun’s taste.

“do you know what you’re ordering?” he asks you with big, round eyes.

you can't help but notice how his eyes resemble tapioca pearls – "just iced coffee," you reply with a hint of amusement.

“right,” beomgyu chuckles, realizing he should have guessed as much.

suddenly, the girl behind the counter approaches you, her bright smile matching the cheery vibe of the boba shop. "hi there! can i help you?" she chirps.

beomgyu's attention shifts to her, “oh! yes yes, just a second” he responds, his eyes scanning the menu once more.

"well, our special today is the pina colada boba blast," the girl continues with a playful tone "it's sweet, refreshing, and i guarantee you it will leave you wanting more!”

beomgyu looks up, and before he could respond, you step forward, "we'll figure it out ourselves, thanks," you say curtly.

the girl's smile falters slightly. "o-okay, let me know if you need any help," she mumbles, retreating to the safety of the register.

"come on, babe, she was just doing her job," beomgyu says, chuckling a little and reaching for your hand. "but i think is time for me to finally admit… there's something kind of hot about you being mean."

you rolled your r eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. you figured that much way before he did “i’m not being mean, beomie,” you still say, feigning ignorance “i truly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

beomgyu grins, feeling a surge of affection for the girl by his side. as they placed their order and settled into a cozy corner of the boba shop, he couldn't help but think how happy he was to have you, even if you did have a bit of a mean streak.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x y/n

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