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obscure-imagines · 8 months

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distraction - Sanji

🌀staring. Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader

⚔️ preview. "Good for moss head. I didn't think he had it in him to take care of a girl like you... don't take offense, love, it's just clear you can be a little... pent-up. It's part of your charm, if you ask me." Sanji flashes you a wink. "Roronoa is high-strung too. I've always just been under the impression that if you're looking for sex - good sex, the type that leaves you... unable to think about anything else - well, at least one of you has to be able to let loose a little."

tw/cw. unprotected sex, multiple reader orgasms, pussy lover Sanji, dirty talk, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, mutual masturbation, sex in Zoro's bed, talking about Zoro during sex, jealousy, overstimulation, hair pulling, breast worship, big dick Sanji, cum play/filled kink, dick/bulge outline, deep penetration, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) love, sweet thing.

💦 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 4.1k

⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, fwb!zoro, friends to lovers Sanji, pwp, etc…

❄️ mlist + an. live action Sanji has such a specific diction/accent, I did my best to replicate it :)

You stand along the rail of the ship, watching your friends row towards the island. The anger bubbling inside of you is only getting worse, and soon, it becomes too much for you to manage. Tearing your gaze from the sea, you storm toward the kitchen, in need of someone to vent to.

Sanji's prepping dinner, and his quick knife skills are made all the more impressive when he lifts his eyes from his work to assess you. He gives you a once-over, finishing the cucumber he's dicing before setting the sharp blade down. "Come on love, take a seat. Tell me what's wrong."

The chef is always able to read you like the back of his hand, and you do as he says, releasing a deep sigh as you plop into the chair in front of him. "I just wish they'd invited me to go to the island with them."

Sanji gives you an amused look, setting his palms flat on the table while he looks at you. "I think you mean, 'I wish Zoro had invited me to go to the island.'"

"You're too perceptive for your own good," you groan. "it's going to get you in trouble one of these days."

"Lucky for me I enjoy trouble," Sanji grins. "What is going on with you and moss head? Are you two... you know, going steady?"

You hate the way he says it, 'going steady,' as if you're both kids falling in love for the first time- part of you aches for that to be the truth of it all.

"Honestly? I don't know what we're doing," you admit. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Well, start talking, and we can figure it out together, how's that sound, love?" Sanji suggests, picking up his knife to continue chopping vegetables.

"I just..." You take a deep breath, not sure where to start. "I thought Zoro and I were getting closer-"

"How close are we talking, sweet thing?" The chef grins slyly. "A little toss and tumble between the sheets?"

"Sanji!"

"That's a yes."

"Okay, fine, I'll admit it. We've slept together. Twice."

"Good for moss head," Sanji's smirk widens. "I didn't think he had it in him to take care of a girl like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't take offense, love, it's just clear you can be a little... pent up. It's part of your charm, if you ask me." Sanji flashes you a wink. "Roronoa is high-strung too. I've always just been under the impression that if you're looking for sex - good sex, the type that leaves you unable to think about anything else - well, at least one of you has to be able to let loose a little."

You're a little shocked at his words, and you assess the chef. He's chopping vegetables smoothly, as if he didn't just drop a bit of a sexual wisdom bomb on you.

"I can let loose."

"Love, again, don't take this the wrong way but... that has yet to be seen."

"I'll prove it to you."

"Yeah?" Sanji sets his knife down again. "And how are you planning to do that, sweet thing?"

You swallow thickly, a proposition hanging on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you find yourself admitting, "You know... Zoro didn't even kiss me goodbye today."

"Bet he didn't make you cum either."

You shake your head.

"That's a damn shame," Sanji sighs. "A pretty little thing like you... I bet you taste as good as you look. If you were my girl, I'd have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert."

"Sanji-"

"You know what I think you need? A distraction. I think you need to explore other options- what's the line, the grass is always greener, or should I say, the moss?" He looks you up and down. "Only if you're interested, of course. We've got the time, your lover boy will be on the island for a couple of hours at least."

Your heart is thundering in your rib cage, and you can feel it all the way down to your core. Your mind might be fixed on Roronoa Zoro, but your pussy is screaming for Vinsmoke Sanji.

"Well... he's not my boyfriend..."

"Man didn't even kiss you goodbye before leaving you here with me, that's just stupid, but I've always suspected moss head to be a few utensils short of a full set, if you know what I mean."

You find yourself laughing, and you realize how much you enjoy listening to Sanji speak.

Zoro is always so quiet in bed, hardly moaning or whispering words of praise- you'd bet your life that Sanji is verbal while making someone come undone for him. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to hear him in that headspace.

"Let's do this," you say, shocked at how quiet your voice is.

"What was that, love? I didn't quite hear ya."

"I said... let's do this. You're right... I need a distraction... I need to cum." Your skin heats at your own admission, but you see the effect it has on Sanji. His pupils dilate with interest, and his breath catches.

"Come here," he instructs, placing his knife down and wiping his hands on the towel over his shoulder before tossing that to the table too.

Your feet carry you much too quickly to Sanji, and then you're standing in front of him, looking up into the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen.

He wets his lips, hands reaching for you. One grabs your hip and the other moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin. "Are you sure about this?" he asks. "You have to be sure."

"I'm sure. Fuck Zoro."

Sanji laughs, and his whole face lights up. "Fuck Zoro," he agrees, smashing his mouth to yours a moment later.

Your entire body relaxes, lips parting to allow his tongue further exploration- but at the same time, electric heat surges across your skin. It's much too easy to get lost in Sanji, your hands reaching to grab the front of his shirt, tugging him closer while he deepens the kiss.

You love the feeling of his hand still cupping your cheek, it's like an anchor. His lips taste like smoke, mint, and desperation, as if he's been waiting to do this for much too long.

The hand on your hip slips to the small of your back, and then it dips down further, giving your ass a gentle squeeze that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

Sanji grins against your lips, taking the opportunity to pull away from you ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter open to look at him questioningly, and he simply smiles. "I like your sounds, sweet thing."

"I'll sound even sweeter with you inside me."

"Oh, I have no doubts about that." His thumb strokes your cheek. "Come on, love, let's get you to bed."

"You're not gonna fuck me here?" you ask, looking around at the kitchen.

"I want my first time with you to be on an actual mattress. We've got more than enough opportunity for me to bend you over one of these counters another day."

"You sound pretty certain we'll be doing this again."

"I'll let my skills speak for themselves, and you can be the judge of that."

He bends down, easily throwing you over his shoulder while you release a squeal of delight.

"I'd ask your bed or mine, but I've already got a place in mind," Sanji explains as he walks you toward the sleeping quarters.

You don't question him on it, but you're also not surprised when he gently tosses you down onto Zoro's bed.

"You're so bad," you laugh, grabbing at the familiar sheets while Sanji towers over you at the foot of the mattress.

"I thought you liked it bad in this bed," he teases. "Although, I'm about to change that."

Sanji sinks to his knees, grabbing at your leg to drag you closer. He reaches for the button and zipper, tugging your pants down in record time. He tosses them aside before his gaze narrows in on your core.

You watch the way his tongue licks at his lips, that familiar smirk returning. "You definitely look good enough to eat, love," he tells you. "Soaking right through your panties-" he hooks his fingers in the fabric, "How about you give these to me for safekeeping, yeah?"

"You want to keep them?" you ask, lifting your hips to aid in the removal of the last article of clothing keeping his mouth from your pussy.

"They'll be my very own One Piece," Sanji grins. "No matter what happens between us, if you gave me these, I think I'd be happy."

You can imagine him keeping them in his pocket as a constant reminder of you. Can imagine him reaching into his pants to touch them- wrapping your panties around his cock and using them to reach his own end-

God, Sanji is a bit of a perv, but you kind of love it.

You love knowing exactly the effect you have on him. Love knowing that he wants you like this.

You never know where you stand with Zoro, but with Sanji, things seem quite clear.

"You can keep them," you whisper, as he tugs the panties off your feet. "I want you to keep them."

"That's a sweet girl," he praises you, warm hands finding your calves to tug you even closer to his awaiting mouth. "Gonna taste you now. Feel free to grab my hair and pull- in fact, I kinda wish you would."

"God, Sanji-" you whimper, feeling his breath on your hot core.

"My name has never sounded prettier than right now, moaned from your lips," Sanji tells you, flashing you a wink as you reach for his hair.

He all but dives into you, pressing himself close to your pussy and licking you for all you're worth. His tongue parts your folds, teasing up to your clit and circling before dipping down, pushing gently into your hole and licking-

Sanji is everywhere, worshiping every part of your pussy while you whimper and moan. Your eyes close, your head lolling back against the mattress, your body consumed by his motions.

You can feel him smirking against you, and it's clear he's enjoying the sounds he's already working out of you. His hands massage your thighs, keeping them spread so he has full access to you with his perfect tongue.

When his lips suction around your clit, your pussy throbs desperately, and you tighten your grip in his hair, crying out his name while you begin to rut against his face.

Sanji groans against you, and you realize he enjoys the way you're trying to use him for your own satisfaction. He doesn't tease, doesn't move his tongue away, he keeps doing exactly what he'd done to earn this reaction from you.

No one has ever sucked on your clit like this, his mouth hot and wet while his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud- You can feel an orgasm rising quickly in the pit of your stomach.

Your skin is tingling with pleasure, muscles tightening with your impending release.

"Sanji-" you whine, "Fuck, please don't stop, I'm so close-"

If anything, he works your clit even harder, and it's all you need to topple over the edge. Your thighs shake around his head, his hands keeping them spread while your orgasm surges through you like wildfire.

Your hips buck toward his face, pussy clenching around nothing as he works you through your high. His tongue laps at your pussy, collecting every drop of your cum that begins to drip out of your pussy from how deep your pleasure contractions are.

Sanji is moaning as he worships you, and each vibration against your clit has your body shaking again, prolonging your orgasm until you feel tears in your eyes and your stomach almost hurts from how hard you've just cum.

He pulls away from your pussy and you let out a whimper, closing your legs and trying to catch your breath.

"You definitely taste as sweet as you look, pretty thing," he praises you. Then you feel his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Sorry for making you cry."

"It's okay," you say, but your voice is shaky. "I've just... I've never cum like that."

"Just wait till you feel what I'm going to give you next, love." Sanji pinches your chin. "If you can take another."

You swallow thickly, opening your eyes to look up at him. "I can take another. I want your cock-" Your pussy throbs at the mere idea of him, and you stifle a groan. "Please-"

"How could I say no to a pretty thing like you?" he asks, bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips before standing up again.

You watch as he begins to undo his button-up, and after a moment of being transfixed by each newly exposed piece of skin, you remove your own shirt.

"Fucking hell," Sanji shrugs off his top, and you nearly drool at his ripped physique, "Roronoa really fumbled this one, didn't he, love? Look at you- you're an absolute stunner."

"You're not so bad yourself," you grin, relaxing back against the bed and spreading your legs for him. "Come on, Sanji, I think we both need a distraction."

"Am I talking about Zoro too much?" he laughs, undoing his pants. "My bad, guess I just can't stop thanking the guy- if he hadn't messed up, I would have never gotten this chance with you."

"Have you been waiting for a chance for a while?"

"Since I first laid eyes on ya," Sanji admits. "But, it was clear you had a thing for moss head, so I kept my distance."

"I'm glad you're not keeping your distance anymore."

"We're about to be closer than ever," he agrees. "Lemme just grab a condom-"

"No condom," you insist. "I'm uh- I've got birth control."

Sanji looks you up and down. "Sorry, it's just- you're telling me, you let Roronoa fuck you raw, and he still didn't bother to kiss you goodbye today?"

"Thanks for rubbing it in," you frown.

"My bad, love," Sanji gets onto the bed between your legs, leaning over you so he can kiss you gently. "I'm just- a little shocked is all."

"You're not only fucking me to get back at him, right?" you ask, wrapping your arms around Sanji's strong shoulders. "I mean... I know you two don't really get along-"

"Don't ever think that," he tells you. "I like you because you're you- this whole Roronoa thing is just an added bonus."

"An added bonus," you sigh. "You make it sound like you're toddlers fighting over a toy."

"Trust me, sweet thing, after this, you're going to be mine. If you're not already. What was it you said? You've never cum like I just made you cum?"

You laugh. "I want another," you grin, teasing your lips over his own.

"In a moment," he responds, slipping his hand down to your core, teasing you with two fingers. "Gotta make sure you're ready for me."

As he pushes his digits into your pussy, you reach for his cock. It's already leaking sticky precum against your abdomen, and you collect it, using it as lube so you can stroke him gently, teasing your thumb over the tip.

"Fuck, sweet thing," Sanji groans, dipping his head so he can look down at where you're both touching each other. "You already feel so good."

Instead of responding, you simply kiss him, using your free hand to grab the back of his head. You don't want him pulling away, you want to feel his tongue while his fingers fuck you harder, pumping easily into your wet core as you stroke his pretty cock.

You love the sounds he's making. When you squeeze him harder, he practically whimpers, hips thrusting forward, cock gliding through your hold.

Your pussy throbs desperately around his fingers as he scissors them inside of you, spreading you open.

"Please, Sanji," you groan, "I need you-"

He pulls his digits from your core, lifting them to his lips to suck clean. You watch in awe at the way he moans from your taste- no one has ever reacted to you like this before, acting as if you're their favorite dessert, and it does something to you-

Sanji is changing everything you thought you knew about sex. Where most men have eaten you out as a duty, Sanji treats it like it's his pleasure, and you know he's being genuine.

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you let go of him to steady your grip on his strong shoulders, heart racing as he lines himself up with your aching hole.

"Please, please, please-" you whimper, leaning up to kiss him feverishly while he sinks the head of his cock into you.

The stretch is amazing- as much as you've enjoyed Zoro, Sanji is definitely girthier. The swordsman might have half an inch on the chef, but nothing feels like being split open on the cock of a man who just made you cum so hard you saw stars and cried about it.

You groan as his tongue swiped by your own, and he swallows up your sounds while your pussy swallows up his cock, inch after delicious inch. When he bottoms out, you throw your head back against the pillows, digging your nails into his shoulders. His lips find your throat and he peppers your skin in wet kisses, allowing you to get used to his size.

"Fuck me," you instruct, core throbbing around him- you need movement like you need Sanji, desperately.

"Only cuz ya asked so nicely, love," he grins.

His first thrust has your toes curling. His mouth picks up on your throat again, and he finds your sweet spot much too easily while he begins fucking you. Sanji's motions are fluid, almost dancer-like, and each smack of his hips against your own has the tip of his cock kissing your cervix-

"Oh my God," you whimper, threading a hand through his soft hair and gently tugging, earning yourself a moan against your neck. "You're so deep-"

"Roronoa never took care of you properly, did he, sweet thing?"

You don't want to talk about Zoro anymore. You want to focus on Sanji. He's not much of a distraction if he keeps bringing up the moss-haired man.

Instead of answering, you simply push on his chest. Sanji is quick to pull away, and you roll on top of him, straddling his hips. You sit up, pressing your palms flat to his chest while he stares up at you.

Zoro's only ever fucked you doggy style and missionary. He doesn't let you top, doesn't let you have control like this. And even if he ever had, you doubt he'd be looking up at you the way Sanji is.

"Tell me how good it feels," you instruct, rolling your hips. At this angle, Sanji's buried completely in your wet cunt, and the slightest of motions feels like heaven.

"Fuck, love," Sanji's hands move up to cup your breasts, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers. "You feel perfect. I could watch you ride me for hours and I'd be the happiest man on the ship- Happiest man in the entire ocean."

You throw your head back, riding him gently, getting used to the rhythm and the sensation in your thighs.

"There's no one like you," Sanji continues. "You're taking me so well- It's like this pussy was made for me." He sits up abruptly, pressing one hand to the bed to hold himself up while his breath ghosts over your chest. "You were made for me, weren't you, sweetheart?"

"Maybe you were made for me," you counter, riding him faster.

"Made for each other," he concedes, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive nub.

You groan at the feeling, your pussy clenching tight around his cock.

"I'd love to watch you cum like this," he tells you, looking up at you, eyes twinkling with adoration. "If you cum while on top, I might just have to worship you forever."

"Forever?"

"'M never gonna be able to get this out of my head. You're all I'm going to be thinking about, day and night."

"Sanji," you whimper, loving what his words do to you.

"That's it, love, squeezing me so well- I want to watch you cum again. You're so beautiful when you cum."

You grab at his shoulders, using him for leverage as you bounce harder on his cock. Each meeting of your hips has his cock driving as deep as possible.

"Lean back for me, love," Sanji prompts, gentle fingers finding your throat, helping you tilt your body ever so slightly- "Fuck," he grabs your hand, placing your palm over your abdomen. "Feel how fucking deep I am?"

You can definitely feel the slight outline of his cock, made more obvious by the slight contortion of your body.

It's one of the sexiest things you've ever experienced.

"Sanji-" you whisper again, mind completely numb except for his name, repeated like a mantra-

"I know, love, I know. I'm close too- can't believe you're gonna let me fill you up- It's gonna feel so good. You're gonna be right propper full, the way you deserve-"

"Oh my God-" It's getting harder and harder for you to ride him, body teetering on the edge of pleasure-

"C'm here," Sanji instructs, hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you back down with him as he falls onto the bed again, adjusting bellow you. "I can feel you shaking love, let me take over."

You practically collapse against his strong chest, holding yourself over his cock as he begins to drive up into you. One of his hands is on your hip, but the other slips between your bodies, expert fingers finding your clit-

You practically explode on his cock, letting out a squeal as you bury your face in against his throat, pressing gasped kisses to his skin. Your pussy contracts tightly around his thick length, and from the moans leaving Sanji's lips, you can tell he's fallen over the edge too.

You can feel his thick cum coating your inner walls- there's so much of it, you can even feel it on his shaft with each bounce. He fucks you through your highs, making the prettiest sounds, holding you tight to his chest.

You allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of him. Mind going numb. All that matters is you and him.

As Sanji's thrusts begin to slow, he grabs your hips with both hands. One slips to the small of your back, and then to your ass, squeezing as he helps you seat yourself entirely on his cock, your bodies flush together.

He's breathing heavily in your ear as you continue to kiss his throat.

You stay like that while your heart rates begin to slow again. Sanji strokes your skin, and you simply kiss him neck, teasing by his ear and making him shiver.

"Please tell me this won't be the only time," he says finally.

"It won't be the only time."

"What are you going to tell Roronoa?"

You sigh. "The truth. That I don't see him and me going anywhere, and that I have a better connection with you."

"Thank God."

"Were you really that worried?" you ask, pulling away from his neck. You sit up, and Sanji groans a little as his cock shifts inside your pussy. His hands find your hips.

"I guess..." He licks his lips, swallowing thickly. "I guess maybe I'm just used to rejection."

You like that he's being vulnerable with you like this. "You don't have to worry about that with me."

"No?" Sanji grins.

"Never."

"So if I asked for round two, you wouldn't reject me?"

You laugh. "You're horrible."

"Come on, sweet thing, you love it," he winks.

And honestly, he's kind of right.

He's right about a lot of things. He'd definitely been right about you needing to let loose a little, and now that he's shown you how to do that, you can't imagine ever going back.

Zoro may have been the start of your journey, but Sanji is the next chapter, and you can't wait to see what happens next.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this one, check out my recent Mihawk fic here or my new Zoro one here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here

#sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji smut #sanji x reader #opla #opla smut #one piece #one piece smut #sanji opla #sanji opla smut #opla sanji #opla sanji smut #sanji one piece #sanji one piece smut #one piece sanji #one piece sanji smut #sanji

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saturniolos · 4 months

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besties (matt sturniolo x reader) ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

notes: this took me days. i am going BLIND plz show sum love &&&&& hey——— come talk to me ! (btw this type of editing/social media aus have been around for ages- credit goes to the person who came up with it first!!)

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axeoverblade · 11 months

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Classmate

PART ONE (CURRENT); PART TWO ; PART THREE

Earth 42! Miles Morales x fem! reader

Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.

MASTERLIST

Genre: light fluff, enemies to lovers like trope, light bully!Miles

Warnings: mentions of sa (nothing happens just mentioned), mentions of violence, maybe foul language but I think that’s it enjoy!

word count: 5k

Authors comment: I keep seeing School themed hcs and I had to say me sphewl(?), planned to be one shot but thinking about a part two. Sorry for any bad translations my Spanish is meh, please leave a like <3

It was known half way through the school year at Visions Academy the teachers changed the assigned seats. Being in your last hour, you were pretty much comfortable sitting next to almost anyone in the class.

Albeit, you did have a few in your mind you would rather not be sat with. Kids who didn’t like to do the group work, kids who talked too much, kids who always were trying to copy answers, etc.

The teacher went through the neatly organized desks column by column, starting on the left side closest to the door for the new seating chart. There were only four columns seeing as the wooden desks were double seated. You listened as she went through assigning kids to chairs, finally reaching the last column. There were about seven other kids along with you still waiting to be called to the four desks available. All the kids left were somewhat iffy options to be next to for the rest of the year.

…

Only you and three others were left. She called out to the second to last desk, “Amanda and John”. You sigh a breath of relief happy to not be sat next to John who had a crush on you, your thoughts replaying all the times he had tried to get with you. Feelings were not mutual. “ And Finally Y/n and Miles.”

You walked over to the seat from the front of the room, seeing the Miles kid already getting comfortable in his new seat closest to the wall.

You never had the chance to talk to Miles much. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever talked to him. He was very reticent in the classroom. The moment he finished his work which was always relatively quick, he was out of the class leaving a few minutes to spare coming back before the bell rang.

There was a reason you never made an effort to talk to Miles. In fact, it was more like you endeavored to avoid him. His hedonistic friend group were known for being-, uncivil. They treated others horribly, always making someone do something that would make your stomach churn if you had to be the one to do it. And even though Miles was known to never actively participate in those things, anyone who hung around people who did those things were bound to start someday.

What confused you though, he was extremely smart unlike the jerks he was always with. You heard he was one of the highest scoring kids, every report card stamped with straight As. That wasn’t much at this school, almost everyone had straight As and high Bs, but all his grades averaged above 94.

There was also no denying he was very attractive. Surprisingly he was never seen with anyone romantically, unlike his friends who always had a girl or two under their arms. There were definitely people were lined up at his feet though, always trying to cling to him. He always just brushed them off, sometimes blunter than he needed to be.

You had seen it once, a girl you hadn’t really liked had gone up to him during passing period asking for his number only for him to look at her and walk right past her. All his friends and their shallow twats of girlfriends laughed at her, walking with Miles past her.

She cried in bathroom for forty minutes after.

You stood next to your seat, putting your bag down. “Hi I’m y/n” you said, formally introducing yourself to Miles for the first time. He looked up to you from his phone. You watched as he took his time studying you, making you slightly flustered as his eyes roamed your body. He looked back down at his phone, disregarding your presence. “I know.”

You blinked a few times processing the abrupt rudeness.

You rolled your eyes and whispered a few choice words to yourself about the interaction as you sat down, realizing you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year.

You pulled out your phone, texting your friend and roommate Mei, who was across the room, about how rude Miles was. She looked up, seeing you staring at her irritated. She giggled before texting back.

Mei: He so fine tho 😍 ask em if he needs a dog

You: Mei 💀

You: he’s so rude n for what? Like he could’ve just nodded or said his name. I know he got that whole “bad boy” thing goin but ain’t have to do allat

Mei: Ion know gl tho 💯

You: Ur no help 😭 Ima ask for a seat change

Mei: It's the first five minutes you have sat next to each other, maybe he is just nervous from ur emmense beauty 😩 I know I would be

Mei: PLUS u know Ms Reita does not b swappin seats. You know how many times I asked to be moved from Jessica only for her to say tuff luck and move on? Seventeen times. Just give it time n maybe it gets better you never know

You: 😐

You shook your head and put your phone down as the teacher started passing out the work. It was a normal worksheet due by the end of class. You went through, solving the easier problems before going back and finishing the ones you skipped.

You were on your last problem when Miles hand shot up lazily. Ms.Reita looked at him and sighed, knowing that he was going to leave for almost the rest of class period if she let him leave the room. “Is your worksheet finished?” “I wouldn’t be raisin’ my hand if it wasn’t.” “Watch it Morales, wouldn’t want to have to tell your Mom you have detention would you?” He sighed before mockingly smiling “sorry Ms.Reita, can I so humbly excuse myself?” He batted his eyelashes for extra effect, clearly tired of the interaction and ready to leave. She huffed as pointed to the door. You snickered to yourself watching the exchange. He looked at you, a glint of amusement washing over his eyes, but the look left as soon as it appeared. He looked away getting up and walking out.

You walked with Mei back to your shared dorm, talking about the nonsense that flooded your minds. Luckily for you, it was Friday and you could go home tonight, you just had to go grab your bag and you would be free from this hell hole.

…

“Alright Mei I’ll see you on Monday” you said, grabbing your suitcase and backpack, pulling it with you to leave. She smiled and waved, still packing. “Bye baby mama” you rolled your eyes playfully at what she said. She would constantly make jokes about how she could care for you and be your sugar momma, even though she was just as broke as you were.

You walked toward the lobby of the school, seeing the exit to the building so close. It felt like knowing air was near when you were drowning, finally being able to catch a break and breathe- “oh sorry baby girl, didn’t see you there.” You felt someone bump into you, too intentional for it to be accident. You cringed at the nickname and gathered yourself. Luckily you hadn’t fallen, just stumbled causing your bag to fall off you. “Don’t call me that John.” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it in on your shoulder. “You know you like it” he said, closer than he needed to be. Recoiling at the sound of him so close to your ear, you stuck your hand out and lightly pushed him further from you. “I really don’t, I already told you I want nothin’ to do with you.” You continued to walk to the exit, only for him to walk beside you. “Cmon baby I can show you the world, stop playing hard to get.” You looked at him, stopping in your tracks, “I’m not playing hard to get, this is me playing I don’t want you” “so you admit you're playing about not wanting me?” He said, smirking. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, just wanting to go home. “For the final time John, I am not interested.” You walked again, this time he didn’t follow because his friends were walking up to him. “I’ll see you on Monday baby!” He called out loudly, drawing attention to the both of you. You scowled and walked faster out the building, happy to not have to see John for a few days.

Unbeknownst to you, Miles was watching the interaction from the beginning, ignoring his friends talk about the girls that passed or the sexist comments they made. He noted how you reacted to John, how much disgust surged through your body language. He disliked John, but for separate reasons. John was one of those guys. Class A jock who didn’t know when to quit. Also didn’t know when to shut their mouths. Granted, those were the exact people he hung around. But at least he could tolerate their idiocy, and it was better than walking around the school alone all day. Only kid he hung around that wasn’t like that was his roommate Ganke.

He watched as you scowled and left the school. He shrugged minding his own business, zoning back into the conversation about who had the biggest boobs.

Monday rolled around quicker than you could’ve imagined. And it felt like a Monday, which never helped. You trudged into your last hour groggily, just wanting to be done with the day so you could go back to your dorm and sleep. Walking over to your seat, you looked at Mei across the room. She wiggled her eyebrows, mouthing for you to initiate conversation with Miles. You rolled your eyes, sitting down. Miles was sketching lightly on the worksheet already passed out on the desks. You tried to look at it, but the braid that draped over his shoulder covered your view. You didn’t want to seem invasive, so you just grabbed your sheet and began working.

Finishing the sheet quickly, you got on your phone, scrolling through your socials. You saw a news alert flash across the top of your screen, some message about “the prowler striking again” over the weekend. You swiped it away.

You didn’t hate the prowler in all honesty, but you would never admit that out loud. Whoever was under the mask did bad things, but usually only to bad people. Usually.

The police barely did anything anymore, making it hard to even go outside without getting mugged or groped or something bad. With the prowler being out and about, some idiots have been scared off the streets, enough to where you could at least walk to and from your family apartment to school. In your eyes, the vigilante kinda helped a little.

“Stop tapping, its annoyin” a voice rudely interrupted you from your thoughts. You looked over to see miles looking at you, semi-irritated. You hadn’t realized you were tapping the desk, something you did unconsciously when you were lost in your own mind. You pulled your hand back, putting it on your thigh, “my fault, ain need all that attitude though” you said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and started drawing again. “Whatcha’ sketching?” You asked, leaning towards him slightly. He looked at you with furrowed brows, blinking a couple of times, before going back to sketching ignoring your question. El tiene algunos nervios. Instead of just excusing his behavior like you did on Friday, you opted to invade his personal space; moving his braid, your head now hovering over his shoulder. He moved his body quickly, his reflexes faster than you could process. “Qué coño estás haciendo?” He said sternly, but you didn’t budge. “You didnt wanna respond” you said not looking at him, more focused on the drawing. “That ain’ answer my question” he said, you could feel the irritation laced in his voice, but instead of leaving him alone like he wanted, you grabbed the paper to get a better view. The drawing was a well portrayed mask of sorts, oddly similar to the prowlers, and a few weapons all sketched on the back of his paper. You raised your eyebrow at the drawing. He was actually really good at drawing, the detail for him to have started that less than twenty minutes ago impressed you. He snatched the paper back. You turned your head to him, seeing him looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, getting ready to say something. “Answer me next time and I won’t have to do that” you said before he could speak, a mocking smile laying on your lips. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath before going back to sketching.

One word, Regret.

You really wish you hadn’t decided to let you imaginary balls get the best of you. Because now Miles how a personal vendetta against you. Damn your pride. Within the span of few weeks he somehow had broken into your locker and trashed you books, he made sure it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t fix easily though, just a few torn pages. He constantly would shove you, which he mude sure to do lightly to not actually hurt you, into the lockers when he passed you in the nearly empty halls when he was with his friends. He would say the most outlandish things to you whenever you passed him when the halls were too crowded and others could see what he did. He made sure his friends didn’t mess with you though, knowing they would take it way too far how they had with the other kids they harassed. And even though you tried to ignore him the first few weeks hoping he would stop, he never did. You swore you could feel yourself loosing your mind.

Miles had only originally planned on pestering you for a day or two to get the point across that you should’ve left him alone, but then he realized how fun it was to provoke you. You became his entertainment, or at least that was the reason that he told himself he went out of his way to annoy you. And now that he had gotten on your last nerve, you were like a ticking time bomb every time.

You made school easier for him, giving him something to look forward to. Your reactions were always so animated, almost comical, making messing with you so funny. He didn’t just mess with you in sense of picking on you., he would mess with you feelings too. He looked for you in the halls just to go behind you and pull you by your backpack into him. You would lose your balance then he would put his hands on you waist to stabilize you, whispering in your the cusp of your ear sternly to “watch where you’re going mami”, a nickname he now would often call you just to see how irritated and flustered you would get. You would always reply with a snarky remark, something along the lines of “he pulled you into him”, always stuttering through the sentence no matter the amount of times he had done this to you, siempre fue tan mono a él. Something that unintentionally brought his face to a smirk was how you never mentioned anything about the nicknames he gave you like you did with John.

His friends would constantly make comments about how Miles liked you and now you were off limits, but every time he shot the idea down with a quick annoyed face. But perish the thought one of his friends gets talks about you the wrong way. They had seen the way Miles looked at the guy who had walked up to and called you pretty. Didn’t ask for your number, didn’t do anything weird, just called you pretty. The problem wasn’t even the compliment, it was how genuinely big you smiled but it wasn’t because of him.

Miles wasn’t going to deny he found you attractive. He had seen you the first day he walked into Vision academy a year ago and couldn’t get you out of his head for week. Hell you were probably the prettiest girl in the school, but maldito eres molestosa. When laying on the bed in his dorm room the nights he wasn’t out doing his prowler work, he could hear your pesky voice ringing in his ears, también pudo ver tu cara hermosa. He hated it. He hated how sometimes your face would pop up in his brain during a mission, and it would make him falter for a moment. Something as simple as hesitating, even for a millisecond, could’ve had him killed mid fight.

He didn’t actually care for you, at least that’s what he told himself. So you can understand why it bothered him so much that he hated weekends now, knowing it was extra days where he couldn’t see you, feel you. Even if it was just a brush on the shoulder when doing partner work, or him shoving you lightly when walking past, glaring at you like you were the one that bumped into him.

It annoyed you to no end you were stuck next to him for the rest of the year. What annoyed you even more was how attracted you were to him. He was so dismissive toward you, and for some reason you would sit in your room giggling with Mei about how his laugh, even though the only reason you had heard it was because he was making fun of you, was the most attractive thing you have ever heard.

…

Luckily today was Friday so you could enjoy the weekend.

It had been a few months since you had been moved next to Miles, a few months since you decided to overstep a boundary you wish you hadn’t, a few months since you’ve been slowly loosing your sanity. Miles had taken it upon himself to mess with you in class, staying for almost the whole period now a days to do just that.

“If you would finish your work then we could be done already” you mumbled under your breath, looking at the shared work you had to do that Miles hadn’t even looked at, too engrossed in his phone. The two of you had been going back and forth since the start of class, now only roughly fifteen minutes left. He looked up to you, squinting from annoyance, “do you ever just, I don’t know, close your mouth?”. You rolled your eyes “If you, I don’t know, finish your half so I can go turn this in then yea maybe I would.” He scoffed, pulling the paper closer to him. A few minutes passed and he slid the paper over to you “don’t say anything else”. You looked at the paper, seeing he had completed his half of the work in record time, you must really annoy him. “Well if you just did that earlier” you said sarcastically, picking up the paper and walking over to the turn in bin, placing the paper in it.

As you walked back to your seat, John started to talk to you. You pursed your lips, walking past him heading to your seat behind him. That didn’t stop him, as all he did was turn his chair around to face you. “So the party is tonight, you can come-” he paused, putting emphasis on the word winking at you, hinting at something else. You looked at him disgusted. “And we can have a lot of fun, perfect chance for you to see how much you truly like me.” You blinked a few times, “yea no” was all you said before looking at your phone. You didn’t fail to hear the small, quiet breathy laugh that fell from Miles lips as he stared at his phone, overhearing the conversation. His laugh alone could make your knees buckle. You quickly brought yourself back to reality, not letting your mind flow with any positive thoughts about Miles. “Cmon’ baby, promise I’ll show you a good time.” “Ain’ I tell you not to call me that?” You said, annoyed that John just couldn’t leave you alone. “You know we locked in, you keep playin.” “John-” “aight hear me out, you come to the party, if you don’t have a nice time -which I can guarantee you will- I’ll leave you alone, how does that sound?” “You’ll leave me alone?” You said, intrigued by the offer. “If you come.” You sighed, “lemme ask my momma.” He smiled widely, happy to have finally convinced you. Miles secretly looked between the two of you with his eyebrows furrowed, thinking how pathetic John was.

A few minutes passed as John sat facing you, waiting for a response. You sighed, causing him to perk up. “I need to be home by 11, and you have to send me the address. My mom also needs your number and your mommas number, comprende?” He nodded quickly, typing all the information into your phone so you could send it to your mom. You sent the message, already regretting your decision.

Sure enough.

You sped walk home, the time nearing 10:45. Wiping the tear that trickled down your cheek, you scoffed. The party started off great, you and John had a great time, initially.

Then things got weird, he tried to take you to a bedroom upstairs, you declined, him being intoxicated, grabbed you forcefully to take you up. You were glad you were taught basic self defense. You kneed him in the bolas and grabbed your bag, quickly leaving. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had dranken something, where you wouldn’t have been fully aware of your surroundings. You hurrying to dismiss the thought, happy to be out the party

Normally you would be much more aware of the world around you, had you not been so lost in your thoughts. “Hey there pretty lady” you heard, you couldn’t catch a break tonight. You started walking quicker, almost jogging with your eyes focused ahead of you, as you just wanted to get home safely. “You ain’t hear us talkin to you?” Your eyes widened at the mention of us, realizing there was more than one. You searched for your switch blade that would usually be inside your pocket, but it was no where to be found. You figured it must’ve fallen out at the party, you silently cursed to yourself. Three men were now matching your speed, and suddenly were next to you.

“What’s a little momma like you doing out here all alone, don’t you know there’s bad guys out here?”

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll keep you safe”, they grabbed you forcefully covering your mouth so you wouldn’t alert anyone, not like anyone would help. They pulled you to the nearest alley. You bit the hand of whoever was covering your mouth, causing them to let go of your face. You took this as an opportunity to scream for dear life, only to be smacked into a state of drowsiness. You quickly shook yourself out of it, feeling the stinging sensation spread across your face. Your ear was ringing lightly, and you could’ve sworn this dude knocked your tooth loose. You spit at the guy across from you, seeing bloody saliva land on his face. The guy behind you who was holding you let go and moved to the side. Before you could react to the new found freedom, you were pushed roughly into the wall behind you. “Tonto puta, all you had to do was cooperate” the guy in front of you said, wiping the spit off his face.

Ready to accept whatever was going to happen, you closed your eyes and scrunched your face, only to hear screams of pain from the three men, followed by an uncanny silence.

You opened your eyes, seeing the prowler standing where the man in front of you once was with a bloody claw. The three men were laying on the ground, damn near lifeless. Your eyes widened, your mouth parting from the sight. The vigilante stared at you, you could see the eye like symbols displayed on the mask slightly widened at the sight of the hand-mark on your face before recomposing into a stoic, neutral setting. You were too shocked, and mostly scared to say anything.

The figure got closer, to which you could work out was a male. You took note of the two braids cascading down their neck behind the mask, as well as the oddly clean Jordan’s they sported. You didn’t have much time to take in their lanky appearance, as they took a final step towards you, making it so you had to look up at their mask. Their presence loomed over you eerily. You gaped at him, your pleading eyes filled with fear. You knew he wasn’t necessarily a villain per say, closer to the flip side if anything. He did just save you. But the thought of an individual being so much more powerful than you, knowing that at any moment he would always in control no matter what you did, threw your brain into a constant state of unease. Feeling your heart beating out your chest, you raised your hands lightly placing it on their chest to stop them from getting any closer, even though you knew they could easily overpower you no matter what you did. His heartbeat was slow, almost calming to feel. “Please” you whispered, voice barely leaving your larynx.

As quickly as he had come he left. You looked around, finally spotting him lurking on top of the building across from you, crouching along the ledge looking at you. You looked at the Prowler one last time, making eye contact with their mask silently mouthing a ‘thank you’. He flipped away to wherever else he goes, not acknowledging your gratitude. You nearly collapsed, sliding down the wall. Your hands aggressively wiped your face before meeting your hairline, resting there as you breathed ruggedly. The adrenaline you had was wearing off, and the bruises the men left you with became more prominent on your skin, as well as more painful. At least your opinion about the prowler was correct, he was a good guy after all, to you at least.

Returning to school on Monday was a catastrophe, news spread like wildfire about you being attacked by the three men, as well as your encounter with the Prowler. Random people were approaching you asking what is what like and other random questions revolving around your attack. No one however, was talking about what happened at the party. But you couldn’t blame them, not many people saw what had happened.

…

It was finally the last period. You wanted nothing more for this to blow over, and for you to be done with the day back in your dorm. You walked in, wavering slightly seeing John leaning on your desk. You noticed Miles sitting in his seat on his phone, eye bags deeper than usual.

You quickly sat down, trying your best to ignore John's attempts to talk to you.

“Y/n please it was an accident-”

You ignored him getting your pencil out of the top zipper of your bag.

“Y/n please just listen I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing you gotta believe me” he leaned toward to take your hand, causing you to flinch and pull back. You looked at him angrily “you think being drunk excuses anything?” Your voice was calm and almost at a whisper despite how you felt, trying your best to draw the least amount of attention. He sighed desperately, “No it doesn’t but you gotta see it from my perspective-” “what perspective John?!? The one where you tried to force yourself on me? Or the one where you tried to take me upstairs against my will? I swear if you come near me again, I won’t hesitate to cut your polla off, comprende?” Ms. Reita asked everyone to take their seats, causing John to look at you solemnly before scoffing and turning to his seat.

You huffed, putting your head between your crossed arms on the table. “What happened at the party?” You looked over to Miles surprised. You hadn’t expected him to ask you any questions, but if he did you figured it would be something about the prowler incident. “Nothin’.” You said dismissively. He looked at you skeptically. Before you could even react, he grabbed your phone off the desk and tucked it in his pocket. “You ain’ gettin’ it back til you tell me what happened.” “Why do you care so much?” “Your wrinkles n’ dark circles look worse than usual, wanna know why.” “Could say the same for you” he looked at you blankly. You sighed, “John got a lil’ too handsy is all, don’t worry ‘bout it. Can I have my phone back-“ “mami, how handsy?” His stern voice caught you off guard. He looked at John's direction for a split second, you could’ve sworn you’d seen Miles look at John with a look of determined death. He looked back at you eyebrows furrowed, “he tried to take me upstairs n’ I wasn’t feelin’ it, so he tried to make me” you uttered, a little quieter towards the end of your sentence. “Left before he could do anything” you finished, “can I get my phone back now?” You looked at him tiredly. He let out a simple huh and gave you your phone back, his full attention now on johns figure ahead in the seat diagonally ahead of him.

…

The class had been dismissed, luckily Miles had decided to leave you alone today, you were too tired to deal with his antics anyway. Walking over to Mei dismissing John's stare, you two began walking out of the class heading to the lobby so you head back to your dorm room. As you were walking back Mei stopped at a vending machine to get a couple snacks for the dorm so you two could have a movie night. You waited as she inserted her money, clicking which snacks you both liked to buy them. As she was stuffing the snacks in her bag zipping it up, a student screamed “FIGHT”. You looked over seeing a crowd forming and walked over to see what was happening. Bullying your way to the front you saw Miles on top of John, pounding John's blood stricken face damn near permanently into the floor. Your eyes enlarged at the sight. Miles was clearly irate, and from the looks of it, had no plans of stopping. A security guard quickly ran in and grabbed miles off John's limp body. Miles spit at John, yelling something at him in Spanish that you couldn’t hear over the commotion. You looked at John's body, seeing him look almost unconscious as he coughed violently and rested on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. You gaped at Miles, shock written all over your face. His chest rose and fell quickly as he looked around the room seeing all the people watching. His eyes stopped as they met yours, his gaze softening slightly before he looked away. A huff fell from his lips as he was dragged to the principal's office. He jerked his arm away, muttering something about how he knew how to walk.

John had to be sent to the hospital.

Miles was in the principal's office, sitting silently as John's parents screamed at the principal while Miles’s mother sat next to him upset. “My child is a great kid! And how is he supposed to feel safe in this school anymore knowing this can happen again, huh?” John's mom spewed mindlessly, ranting about how she was going to press charges. Miles scoffed, causing Rio to look at him with a look of “watch your mouth before I watch it for you.” He just looked down at his hands in his lap.

Miles walked out of the classroom to head back to his shared dorm. He couldn’t get out of his mind what John had done to you. As vague as your response was, he knew more had happened between you and John. He didn’t know why it bothered him so deeply, it wasn't even really his business. He knew the thought of someone being touched like that made him upset, but he felt pure outrage from this specifically, and he knew deep in his heart it was because it was because it was you who had gone through it.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he felt something different for you when he intervened the night the three men attacked you. He almost added three bodies to his belt, for you.

Usually, as bad as it sounds, he would mostly let people get robbed or thrown around in alleyways. He would help occasionally if it sounded gruesome or of dire need for assistance. But he had to save his city from the sinister six, and petty crimes that were bound to happened weren’t the ideal way to do that. But the voice screaming sounded familiar, kinda sounded like you. The thought of you being in danger offset his nerves, and he knew a you were going to a party that night so he went, just to check.

Sure enough.

He stalked you from above the rest of your walk home just to make sure nothing else happened.

He walked into the lobby consumed by his own thoughts, snapping back to reality as he overheard John talking to his friends about how “y/n finally let me hit, she was so tight-”. He paused in his tracks. Ain’ no way acaba de escuchar lo que pensó que hizo. He turned to the direction of John's voice, this was now his business. He walked over, becoming increasingly irate the more John talked about “how much you loved it”. John turned, hearing footsteps approaching alarming quickly. He saw Miles, John knew Miles had heard about what really happened at the party. John scoffed, somewhat anxious he had been caught in his lie and afraid Miles would try to embarrass him in front of his friends. He quickly spoke before Miles even had the chance to say a word,“You ain’ needed here Miles-” John was cut off by a fist colliding with his face, not what he was expecting at all. Johns friends gasped or yelled in shock, Miles didn’t stop though. Miles didn’t even say anything, small grunts of anger being the only thing leaving his lips as John hit the floor. Miles siguan latiendo la mierda fuera de él.

“What you won't even speak huh?” John's mom said, facing Miles. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “You wanna send my baby boy to the hospital and have no reason why? Why are you picking on my kid huh? You-” “You think your kid is the best thing on Gods green earth”Miles scoffed, cutting her off. “Cause he is, my kid wouldn’t hurt a fly and you-”“your oh so wonderful kid tried to rape a girl then went around yappin’ bout’ how much she enjoyed it.” The room fell silent. The principal eyes went wide, “Uh-Uhm, how about we resume this tommorow-” “well hold on,” Rio spoke for the first time, “My son intervened and helped someone in danger because their son was making girls unsafe in the school? Why is he being punished?” “Well Mrs.Morales we didn’t know that happened-” “so you immediately assumed my son was the cause of this not even getting evidence before?” “Well he did start-” “uhn-uh, their child is making the school more unsafe than Miles ever did. Why aren’t they being scolded for this?”

The principal apologized, saying Miles would be suspended for the rest of the week for starting the fight, but no charges could be pressed to avoid anybody getting into serious trouble.

Miles sat in the passenger seat of his moms car, the leather caressing his skin as he looked out the window. A hushed silence had fallen over the two a while ago. Silence is always worse than actually being screamed at, the anticipation is always so suffocating. “So.. who’s the girl?” His mom said, looking at the road ahead. Miles glanced at her before looking back out the window, “classmate.” She nodded, humming. Rio knew her son, and she knew Miles wouldn’t damn near end a kids life just just for some classmate.

“Ella tiene un nombre?” He sighed lightly, “Y/n.” Rio nodded and hummed again, looking at miles through the corner of her eye. “At some point throughout the week, I expect her over for dinner.” “I don’t even have her number, how is she supposed to know” Rio clicked her teeth and smirked,

“Encontrarás una manera”.

©axeoverblade

#42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #miles morales #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #prowler miles #prowler x reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miles 42 #42 miles morales #miles x reader #miles x y/n #miles x you #kyoutani x reader #miles morales x y/n #cute #drama

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dylobilysmomg · 4 months

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Motel Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.

“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.

The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”

Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.

“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.

“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.

Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.

“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.

“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.

Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.

I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.

“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.

“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.

“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.

“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.

“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.

“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.

I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.

“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.

After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.

It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.

“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.

I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.

Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.

The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.

I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.

“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%

He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.

I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.

“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.

We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.

I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.

“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?

“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.

“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.

He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.

“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.

“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.

“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.

He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.

Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.

I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”

Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.

I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.

“I could never hate you, baby.”

Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.

I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.

“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.

Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.

Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.

My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.

He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.

“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.

Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.

“Say it again.”

“Stiles.”

“Again.”

“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”

“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.

“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”

“Then do it.”

I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.

He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.

Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.

He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?

When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.

As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.

It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.

“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.

“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.

!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!

“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.

I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.

𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨

𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒

#dylan obrien #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien masterlist #ponyboi

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sourbinnie · 11 months

Text

☆ interrupted tenderness ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> a member walks in when you're having a moment, how do they react? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

chan ✉

it wasn't often that you two got caught up in your own little world. you were mostly busy with work and that prevented you sometimes from actually being intimate with him, not really in a sexual way but leaning towards romance. chan really was an incredible boyfriend and supporting him through his journey was one of the best experiences you've ever had the pleasure to be a part of. so when you were in his dressing room as he got ready for his concert, you couldn't help but sigh as you looked at him.

"what's up?" he asked as he got closer to you and grabbed your hands. the sweet gesture of feeling your fingers intertwined. you didn't really know what to say, you were just daydreaming at this point because who wouldn't with a boyfriend like that?

"i just can't help but love you so much." you said as you looked at him eye to eye. you could see the happiness in his smile and then it disappeared as he leaned in for a kiss. you leaned in as well as you closed the gap to meet him and took his lips in yours.

"hyung? are you- i'm sorry, never mind!" jisung said as he opened and closed the door in a second. but then he opened it again to yell. "it's like seeing your parents kiss, never do that again."

the whole time chan couldn't help but look down embarrassed, he couldn't believe his kids' behavior sometimes. he leaned on your shoulder as he hid himself and you couldn't help but laugh the entire time, not feeling any shame at all. your boyfriend might be a shy little embarrassed ball but you loved him just like that.

minho ✉

now he didn't really give a single fuck. he would steal kisses from you in front of the whole world without a care in the world. but sometimes he wished you two would have more private moments where he could actually show you the affection he craved so much to get in return. so when he finally got to be alone in the dorms, he invited you over and you two were laying on the couch just enjoying each other's company. you worked just like that at times where no words were said but it felt better than anything.

"i missed you (y/n)." he said as he got closer to you and laid his head on your lap. you stopped looking at your phone, leaving it to the side to bury your hands on his hair as you messed it up. "if you were anyone else, i would kill you right now."

"luckily it's me!" you said with a little giggle as you moved your hands from his hair to his face. grabbing his cheeks on your hands as you squished them.

"if i did that to hyung, he would slaughter me." seungmin said from the kitchen and he got a death glare from minho. he really thought that the dorms were empty yet here he had one of his members looking at you two just now.

"not a word from you." minho said and seungmin did a gesture like he sealed his lips shut. you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction as you went back to bothering your boyfriend in the nicest way possible, of course. it's not like he could stop you anyways.

changbin ✉

now he wasn't really someone who got embarrassed easily. well at least that's what he liked to think, that he was just shameless especially with you. of course there were certain limits to the things you did in public but he couldn't resist you from time to time and he liked to show you off. you were his precious significant other for a reason and he wouldn't change you for anything. as he tried to come up with lyrics for one of his tracks, you were sitting in his lap and laying your head on his shoulder.

"are you comfortable?" changbin asked and you nodded, you were about to fall asleep at any moment so how could you not be comfortable? still changbin worried. it's like he needed to know all the time how you felt and that was very sweet of him.

"binnie you know we need to go home soon." you said as you kissed his cheek and that made him smile. he still got shy when you showed affection but that made you fall for him a little bit more each time.

"hey bin, are you done with the track? oh! sorry (y/n), didn't see you there." chan said as he got closer and saw you sitting on his member's lap. "i'll just go and we'll talk about it tomorrow changbin."

chan took a few steps back and then left with a little smile on his face. changbin knew that smile, it was more than happiness, he was proud. he truly did find the partner he wanted for the rest of his life and his bandmates knew that, you were a part of the family now and there was no turning back.

hyunjin ✉

he was a sucker for showing his affection and love towards you everywhere. most of the time though he resisted and fought himself to not do it because he was scared that you would get sick of it. obviously you didn't and every chance you got to get closer to him, you would. he would appreciate your little love gestures for him but the displays of love in public would be the ones he remembered the most. like right now, he held you as he hugged you from behind and you felt so safe in his arms.

"thank you for coming by today." he whispered in my ear as you were standing in the set of one of his music videos. you just smiled as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes and his words always made your heart melt.

"you don't have to thank me, i always love visiting you." you said as he leaned in for a kiss. you couldn't help but feel yourself lost in the moment as you two kissed, totally forgetting where you were standing.

"hyunjin, (y/n), the children are watching!" felix said as he covered seungmin's eyes with one hand and jeongin's eyes with the other. you couldn't help but break the kiss off as you laughed.

hyunjin was so embarrassed but he didn't care as he met you for another kiss, shameless in his actions. earning a gasp from almost everyone on set but not caring about the eyes that were watching. he loved you so much and he didn't want to be ashamed of showing it anymore.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz x reader #stray kids drabbles #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #chan x reader #changbin x reader #minho x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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suna-cerely-yours · 1 year

Text

i know ft kiyoomi

warnings: fem!bodied reader, dirty talk, public indecency, mentions of bondage, unedited.

“kiyo would you rather fuck someone wearing a black dress or a white one?”

sakusa lifts his eyes from his phone, fixing you with an incredulous look.

"why are you asking me that in the middle of a very public dressing room, which i'm probably not even supposed to be in right now?"

"it's literally 2pm and the store is practically empty kiyo. besides, i doubt the workers are paid enough to care anyway."

"that's not what i asked."

rolling your eyes, you push the door of the dressing room open further, revealing the short, white dress you had on.

"i haven't been laid in such a long time, and i have a good feeling about this weekend. i wanna make sure i look, y'know, fuckable or something."

a muscle in sakusa's jaw twitches as he glances over the dress, still leaning against the wall opposite to your dressing room, phone clutched in hand.

"okay, first of all fuckable isn't a real word. secondly, what sort of bastard are you dating who'll decide if he likes you based on your dress?"

pressing your lips together you squint at him, walking forward to grab his arm.

"ki-yo-omi, it's not that deep, just tell me if you would rather fuck someone in a white dress or a black one."

"if it's someone i'm interested in, their clothing would not matter."

hiding a grin, you shake your head slightly. your best friend really was leagues apart from most men you had met.

"okay so the white one then?"

shrugging, sakusa straightens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his dark slacks. "get whatever dress you want, if you'd like i could buy you both."

"kiyo, just say you wouldn't fuck me next time," you whine, "stop avoiding the question."

a hand catches your wrist as you turn to go back to change your clothes, sakusa's fingers warm against your skin.

"i never said i wouldn't fu- i wouldn't have sex with you. stop putting words into my mouth."

"fuck kiyo, fuck me. say it properly c'mon, we're not kids anymore."

scowling he lets go of your hand, "don't be a brat."

"oh yeah? and what are you going to do about it?"

you hear him scoff as you move to close the door, only to have the door be pushed back and find yourself pushed against a mirrored wall, the door clicking closed behind sakusa.

"kiyo, what the hell-"

"you think i don't want to fuck you? you think i don't fantasize about tying you up and making you beg for me?"

he moves closer, pressing a hand to the mirror beside your head, the other hand slipping inside your dress to grip your hip.

"do you have any idea what you do to me? how i feel like a complete caveman, devoid of any sense of rationality every time you show up in those little skirts? all i can ever think of is how much i want to flip them up and fuck you until you cry."

you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing as sakusa's lips brush against yours', his thumb lazily stroking hipbone.

"every time you come whining about how some boy couldn't make you cum, or left you unsatisfied, all i can think of is how i could make you cum without even making you take any clothes off- how i could make you cream around my dick so many times.

your lips part, as you moan, sakusa's fingers now slipping into your soaked panties.

fingers lightly tracing your pussy, he sighs into the crook of your neck.

" i would fuck you in each and every one of your dresses."

your eyes slide shut as he presses down your throbbing clit, head hitting against the mirror with a thud.

however instead of continuing, he moves away, "i'll pay for both dresses and meet you outside, i'm sure he'll fuck you regardless."

#sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa smut #hq #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi

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viennakarma · 2 months

Text

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips.

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head.

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed.

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you.

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party.

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered,

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you.

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #formula one #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #brocedes #Spotify

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