#but every time i drive a car other than the One I Had Forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 2 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

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ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

i feel so warm inside hehe

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :)

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f1goat · 6 months

Text

more than friends + lando norris x part one

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) sexual content starting next chapter. minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

Lando is holding you tightly when he helps you to get into your car. The two of you did talk about him picking you up tonight, but it’s not even near to the time you agreed on. It were your friends who texted him to come pick you up, since you’re drunk. When he arrived he was quick to find out how drunk you are. Lando lets you lose when you’re seated in his car, he puts the seatbelt around you and walks towards his own side. He’s quick to take his seat next to you and to start the car.

“Oh my god,” you slur, “did you already turn on the seat warming for me?”

Lando laughs about your enthusiasm. “Yeah I did,” he tells you.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you continue to slur drunkly. You make yourself comfortable on the car seat. Lando drives away. He can’t help himself and looks at you whenever he has the chance. He wonders why you’re this drunk.

“Why did you drink so much?” He asks you after a bit of wondering. He can’t think about any reason himself. Normally you don’t like to drink too much.

“They kept talking about their boyfriends,” you confess without even thinking about it. The alcohol has made your mind hazy. You don’t think things through right now. “And I felt single,” you continue to tell Lando, “and then I realized I’ll probably stay single forever.”

“Don’t say that,” Lando quickly states, “You’re a catch for every boy.”

“And if I ever find a boy who likes me,” you slur further, “he’ll probably lose all interest when he figures out that I have no sexual experience and don’t know what to do.”

Lando hits the brakes as hard as he can. Your confession made him almost ran through a red traffic light. He looks at you with a confused gaze. Of course he has been your friend forever but the two of you never talk about things like this. He knows you aren’t dating a lot and you’re certainly not sleeping around. But he did think you had lost your virginity once. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea with who he thought that should be.

And the most fucked up part is that it kinda turns him on to know that you’re a virgin. It makes him think about everything he could teach you and do with you if you were his. The thought of having you while no one else ever did makes him lose all his sane thoughts.

“See even you think it’s weird,” you exclaim annoyed, “just say so Lan. You’re my best friend, you can tell me that it’s weird. The girls also told me.”

“It’s not weird,” Lando is quick to say, “and if anything, I would say a lot of guys would like it.”

You let out a weird fake laugh. “Nice try Lando,” you say annoyed, “I should just find some random guy to take my virginity and teach me some things.”

“No!” Lando says quickly, “Don’t do that. Not with some random guy.”

“With who then Lan? Maybe I should text all my guy friends and ask them, that seems like a great idea,” you continue with the same annoyed tone.

“Just text me,” Lando says so soft he almost whispers it to you.

You barely hear him. At first you thought your drunk mind made it up that he said that. But when you notice the way he looks at you, you start to believe that he actually said it.

“You would want that?” You ask him.

“Yes,” he confesses, “I can teach you a few things. If you want to.”

“Deal,” you quickly say.

“You can tell me if it’s a deal tomorrow, when you’re not drunk anymore babygirl.”

Babygirl. That’s new.

+++

The following day you wake up with a massive headache. Lando is still sleeping next to you. You wonder why you ended up in his bed instead of in the bed in the guest room where you normally sleep. Weird. You have almost no memories left from last night. When you turn around you notice that Lando is following your moves in his sleep. He presses himself against your body. Weird. You unlock your phone and read some of the messages from last night. Your friends send a couple messages last night in the group text.

Friend 1: did you get home?

Friend 2: ??? Answer y/n

Friend 1: nvm we texted Lando and he told us you got home safe with him

You let out a sigh and start to type a message.

Y/N: oops sorry girls, I’m with Lando & having a massive headache rn :(

You open your socials and scroll for a bit while waiting until Lando wakes up. It doesn’t take long before he wakes up. You feel him moving next to you in the bed. Carefully you turn around to look if he’s really awake. You’re quickly greeted by his open eyes.

“Morning babygirl,” Lando says with a raspy morning voice.

“Hi Lan,” you reply softly.

Since when does he call you babygirl? Your mind switches back to yesterday night and you remember him calling you that as well last night. Weird. You remember him something saying that you would have to agree as well when you’re not drunk anymore. About what was that? You try to remember, but your mind leaves you hanging.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asks you.

“Terrible,” you sigh, “I barely remember anything and I have a massive headache.”

Lando lets out a frustrated sigh, he hoped that you’d remember the conversation from you two from last night. He wonders if he needs to start about the subject or let it be.

“You drank a lot,” he says eventually, “Why did you even do that?” Of course he already knows the reason, but he wants to hear it again from you. He needs to know for sure that last night wasn’t a drunk lie from you.

You think about the reasons why you drank that much. Slowly you feel your memories coming back to you. You remember feeling frustrated when you realized how single - and inexperienced - you’re in comparison with your friends. They talked about their boyfriends and their sex lives a lot, both subjects you couldn’t say anything. You remember drinking too much because you wanted to forget about your awful love life. Then you start to remember the car ride back with Lando.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “I already told you, didn’t I?”

Lando nods to confirm your thoughts. He waits for you to continue. You should remember the rest by now as well, right?

“Oh my god,” you suddenly exclaim, “did I really ask you to teach me those things? Fuck I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Lando realizes that you don’t remember everything correctly. It went different. You were talking about different boys who could teach you those things, random guys even. He was the one who offered to do it himself.

“It didn’t go like that babygirl,” he says slowly, “I offered.”

You start to remember the conversation in more details now. Lando is right. He did offer. You feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. What do you need to tell him now? You think about everything that can go wrong when you’re getting involved with him like that. But you also can’t shake off the thoughts about doing those things with Lando. You have had a crush on him for a while, you can probably say that you’re in love with him. In love with your best friend like a real idiot. It wouldn’t be bad to explore everything with him, he’s the guy you trust most. But what if you can’t keep it casual like that? You already know you want more.

“I remember now,” you confess.

“And I’m still offering,” Lando continues, “I don’t even want to think about you doing those kind of things with a random guy.”

“But you do want to do those, uh those things with me?” You ask awkwardly.

“Yes,” Lando is quick to confirm, “It’s not like I’m the most experienced guy around, but I can teach you some things.”

“But what if that ruins our friendship?” You ask him afraid.

“It won’t,” Lando quickly states, “We have to set some boundaries. Like having a safe word for if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing and about how we will keep it from ruining our friendship.”

The following conversation is a bit awkward, but it’s a good one. Lando tells you about his boundaries, he doesn’t want you to have sex with someone else in the mean time - but he does want to teach you everything he knows. Teach. It even sounds ridiculous when you think about it. But you can’t deny that you want it. Fuck, there’s nothing you want more on this moment.

“So what safe word will you chose?” Lando asks you.

“How do you see this going?” You ask back, “Do I need to make you a list or something with everything I want? Do we need to plan this like teaching sessions?”

Lando softly laughs. He pulls your body closer towards himself. In only milliseconds he’s pressed up against you. You squirm under his touch. Lando lets out a groan. It’s insane what you’re already doing to him. Your innocence is turning him on so much.

“If you want you can make a list,” he tells you with a smile, “and if you want we can plan your so called teaching sessions. Although, I suggest to let things happen a bit more naturally.”

“Naturally?” You ask him confused.

“Yes babygirl,” Lando replies, “Can you turn around and face me?”

You do what he asks you. You turn yourself around. Lando his face is only a couple inches away from you now. It takes you everything to stop yourself from going closer. He stares at you and you can’t stop staring back. Of course you already knew he’s beautiful, but now you’re seeing it from even closer.

“Can I touch you?” Lando asks you while he maintains eye contact with you. You can’t find the words to answer his question, even when you only want to say yes. So you show him a simple nod.

“I need words baby,” he says, “I’ll only do things to you if I’m sure that it’s what you want.”

“Touch me,” you say with a soft voice. When Lando takes a couple more seconds you even add another word. “Please.”

Fuck if he wasn’t turned on already this would be the moment for it. Lando can’t stop imagining you begging for him - for his touch, his cock and more. He shakes the thoughts off, maybe that’s something for later. If he’s lucky.

He softly puts his hand on your cheek and brings your face even closer to his. Without giving it a second thought he presses his lips against yours. Softly he presses multiple kisses against your lips. You are quick to open your mouth a bit, hoping that he wants more. Just like you do at this moment. Lando grants your wish. He lets his tongue enter your mouth and starts to explore your mouth with his own. You feel your stomach tighten a bit.

Why does it feel so good to kiss with your best friend?

Lando moves his hand to your body. He pulls you even closer towards himself. Then he starts to draw figures on your lower back with his fingers. You let your hands wander around his body as well. At first you’re focused on his hair, softly tugging on some of his curls. You love his curls. Lando moves his face back a bit, you directly miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

“How does that feel?” He asks you. His hand is still placed on your lower back. You want it even lower. How would if feel if he would grab your ass?

“Good,” you confess, “really good.”

Lando is hand is still on the same place. You almost feel yourself aching for more of his touch. Do you need to tell him? He is watching you in silence. It surprises you that you feel quite comfortable with him watching you like this.

“You should take a shower,” Lando says eventually, “We’re going out for lunch with Max.”

You send him a surprised look. That was it?

Lando laughs softly, “Patience babygirl, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You almost tell Lando that you feel turned on, almost. This will be a long day. With a soft huff you get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom. The cold air distracts you from your feelings, for a few seconds you forget about how turned on you are right now.

“Maybe you can add that to you list,” Lando jokes, “Shower sex. I have never done that either.”

Great. Now you can’t even shower anymore without thinking about Lando taking you underneath the water. This will ruin a lot of things, but strangely you aren’t that afraid for it to ruin things between Lando and you.

“I thought I didn’t need to make a list,” you tell him.

“Maybe you should,” Lando replies, “I think I’d like a list after all. What if I forget something eh?”

You show him a small smile before disappearing in the bathroom. Lando sighs when you close the door. It took him a lot of good will to stop things instead of going further with you. It has been a while since he has been this hard. He can’t even remember the last time he was this turned on now that he thinks of it. It probably was last summer when you wore that tight bikini.

part two

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers

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mickyschumacher · 9 months

Note

hi! I love the way you write and I’d love to see some Daniel Ricciardo or Oscar Piastri content!! Older brother’s best friend and something including model!reader or figureskater!reader. I also cannot begin to describe how much I love your Taylor song based fics. I was hooked on Style and Dress, thank you, have a wonderful day :)

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you don't have much in common with oscar piastri other than three things: you're both rare talents, you know each other through your older brother, and that, unknowingly, you both really like each other.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: older brother's best friend trope! (although not heavily enforced), suggestive but nothing crude, poor ice skating knowledge, mentions of the spa track, crashing and DNFing, reader likes to blame things on alcohol, lily (oscar's current gf) is his ex (oops), slight diss of tsitp, jealousy!!!, scene of harassment and a creepy man, a physical altercation in which oscar gets physically hurt, attending the wounded scene! (sobbing rn), a cute and horribly cheesy, fluffy ending!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x figureskater!fem!reader, arthur leclerc x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5k+ (um srry hehe)

𝐀/𝐍: i wanted to this was oscar but since he's kinda young, i did a one year age gap bc the territory of 'the older brother's best friend' for piastri is alarming to say the least. i also assumed it was a female reader due to my other works, hope that and this whole piece is okay!!

𝐏.𝐒: if you couldn't tell, it's loosely based off of taylor swift's 'i can see you' bc i ended up losing track lmao. sorry for taking FOREVER but coming back from holiday, going straight back into uni, and having writer's block is the worst combo 🤧 as usual, poorly proof read!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

In a world of billions, quite strangely yet only logically, there were many talented people across the globe. But very few were be a World Champion let alone the opportunity. You were part of this few. The Youngest World Champion in figure skating in history, a two-time World Champion and the 2022 Olympic winner.

You were a living legacy in your town.

Of course, you couldn't do it without the support of the people you loved. Your parents attended all your competitions. In fact, your father was the one who had brought you to the ice when you were three. And your brother, no matter how much of a menace he was, he was your number one fan. Despite all the things he had to do, he was always there for you.

Your brother was one of those Australian boys who had turned their passion for dirt biking into a career for motorcross racing.

Naturally, he had found a friend who was also very interested in racing. However, instead he loved driving a open wheel single-seater formula racing car at crazy speeds. That friend was Oscar Piastri. A childhood best friend of your brother's and a sort of acquaintance slash family friend of yours.

It worried you two see some of the most important people in your lives risk death almost every day but you enjoyed watching them do something they loved.

You could see it in their eyes when they raced. It was the same passion you had for the ice. The slivers of ice that occasionally touched your skin thrilled you was the same excitement that coursed through the two Aussies when they felt their engines rev.

It was odd. You could've sworn a few days ago, you were all kids playing in the backyard of your house; your brother riding his toy bike while Oscar raced him on foot and you commentated in Oscar's favour to piss your brother off. And now all three of you were leading your careers: you were a competitive figure skater, your brother was slamming the MXGP and Oscar was one of the best rookies introduced to F1 in a while.

Where time had gone... you could not even begin to wonder. Heck, once upon a time you were staring down Oscar in the school hallways because for some reason you could only talk to him outside of school. And now... well, it was complicated to say the least.

You had always liked Oscar. It was difficult not to. He was always around you. The boyish charm, the small smiles, the puppy brown eyes, his offers to help you with your homework, you visiting him when he raced... everything had built up inside you. It was festering.

But that's how you liked it. You didn't want to cross any lines. As heart-racing and flustering as your crush on him was, you could not bear the idea of telling someone who was brotherly to you that you liked him.

It was repulsing.

And as far as his dating history could went, Oscar didn't like you. Oscar wasn't a player but he definitely didn't like being single from what you could tell.

To be honest, considering you didn't see him that much due both of your schedules, nothing between the both of you would've ever happened if you're annual family holiday hadn't happened.

Your family and the Piastri's took time out at least once a year to relax together. And this year, your brother and Oscar's breaks overlapped, and you had persuaded your coach for two weeks off. That was all the both of your parents needed before booking a trip to Greece. Everyone wanted to go when they were younger and now they could finally go.

Two weeks... not much could happen. At least so you thought.

The moment you saw Oscar in Greece, your heart thumped against your chest like it had never before and you knew you were screwed. It was ridiculous. How after all the time did you still like this stupid driver? He was the root cause of your lonely love life. Which for most figure skaters was not a big deal... you had prospect lovers falling left and right. Especially the guys in pair skating. But no... you were head over heels for Oscar out of all people.

With the firm boundaries you had made, you ventured to not make a big deal about what you were feeling and pushed it to the side. But the thing about pushing things away, they have a funny way of coming back up.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On the first night of your much needed vacation, you had found one of the most popular restaurants in Santorini while endlessly browsing through social media and decided to get everyone out of the lovely AirBnB you had rented. Upon arriving, your parents and Oscar's were cooped up on one side of the dining table, leaving the 'kids', as your mother calls you three, on the other.

You released a sigh of content, feeling the crisp breeze dance past your skin in the warm summer evening air while your sip of assyrtiko (Greek white wine) slipped past your throat far too easily. Thank God you had chosen an outdoor restaurant tonight. Every time you were on holiday, you couldn't be more grateful to get away from all the stress. If you could live like this every day, with the warm breezy evenings and the amazing architecture, you would.

"So," your mother started, her voice hitting your direction. You flickered your gaze over to her, raising a brow. "How are my kids' love lives? Are you getting down?" She waggled her eyebrows behind her glasses.

A wave of heat pricked your skin at your mother's words. "Mom!" You hissed out in disbelief while your father and Oscar's parents chuckled.

"What? You guys never tell me anything anymore! I used to be the holder of all your secrets and now... now I am an old woman!" Your mother cried, wiping an invisible tear off of her cheek.

You and your brother blankly looked at her and then towards each other. To say your mother was a character was an understatement. She enjoyed her theatrics far too much for anyone's liking, more specifically you're liking.

Oscar grinned, reaching out his hand to hover over hers. "You could never be an old woman. Always young in my heart."

Your brother snorted at Oscar's cheesiness. After you and your brother, Oscar was your mother's son and Oscar was a suck-up. He liked being in the good books, especially that of your mother's.

"Of course," Your mother chuckled softly, patting Oscar's hand gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What happen to you and Lily? I heard you two broke up? I thought you liked her a lot?"

You could see Oscar tense at the mention of his ex, your own body rigid. It wasn't a surprise to you but you actually hated hearing about Oscar's love life. Unrequited feelings were already a bitch and you didn't need to make it any worse.

Oscar cleared his throat, a small smiling tugging at his lips. "I thought I did too..." He trailed off, falling into his own trance momentarily. Suddenly his eyes flickered around his surroundings before they landed on you. "I guess I just saw something I else I liked a lot more."

A slight shiver crept down your spine and your heart travelled towards your ears. You pressed your lips tightly together, furrowing your brows.

What the fuck?

You snapped your eyes away, firmly placing them on your empty plate that suddenly held your entire world. Oscar had never ever looked at you like that. Any time you looked into those puppy browns, they were usually some mix between happy, anger, annoyance, sadness, humour, and the God forbidden 'I-see-you-as-my-sister' type love.

But this... this was something else entirely. The softness of his gaze, his words, the timing of it all; a perfect execution of sorts... it was a first.

Maybe you had taken one too many sips of the wine. It was the only reasonable explanation behind your obvious hallucination.

Sooner or later, the sun would set, a main reason behind your picking of the restaurant. The parents and your brother were at the front of the house, arguing about who paid for tonight's dinner. You were more than happy to wait it out on the balcony and revel in the last few rays of light, eyes closed and the breeze dancing across your skin.

"Well don't you look happy," Oscar voice stated, nearing you.

You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to the side only to look back a few second later. Oscar and sunsets... you enjoyed that combo far too much for your liking.

"That's because I am. Sometimes being off the ice is refreshing," You told him, taking in a breath of the fresh evening air.

Out of your peripheral vision you could see Oscar tilt his head, eyes raking over you with a small grin tugging at his lips. You ignored the pace of your heart as he nodded at your remark, settling in next you with his hands on the balcony bar, a mere inch away from your own.

"I hear that," Oscar sighed, looking out at the horizon.

You forced yourself to look over at him, trying to read his mind after hearing the burdened sigh he released. "Oscar... I hope you know you're doing well in F1 right now. You're doing pretty good compared to Lando's rookie year."

Oscar smiled gently. You knew him far too well. "I know. I just... I feel like everyone's expecting so much more of me. Podiums... race wins... like everything else I've done. And then Spa came along."

You winced at the mention of the track. Oscar had collided with Carlos on the very first lap. Carlos said Oscar was too optimistic about making that turn and Oscar said that he didn't even know what Carlos doing; that the Spaniard turned as if he wasn't even on the track. Nevertheless, the collision resulted in both of them DNFing.

You snorted. "Spa is a shit track," You dismissed Oscar's current pessimism with a wave of your hand.

Oscar chuckled at your crudeness. He couldn't disagree with you. Spa was one of those tracks which felt auspicious to any driver. The one where you hoped you at least passed the finishing line. It didn't matter what your position was... as long as you passed it, you were okay.

"Guys come on! We've finished paying," Your brother called out.

The both of you turned around. Oscar pushed himself off of the bar, heading towards your brother. "Who won this one?" He asked in amusement, hands gliding past his waist. Ever so gently, in his walk, he teetered towards you, letting his hand brush past your own, sending a tingle down both of you.

You gulped at the racing feeling, immediately pulling your hand closer to yourself. This hairs of your body stood straight and your fingers felt numb. Heck, you felt numb.

Damn, you thought, this is some crazy good wine.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The thing about your inclination to blame everything on the alcohol you consumed was that it only actually worked if you consumed alcohol. You were lucky if you could extend to the remaining bits by a day with the claims of a hangover.

But right now, you were sober as hell.

An unfortunate event, to say the least.

"Y/N, wake up," Oscar's voice pounded against your blanketed, muffled ears.

"Ugh, no" You groaned, cocooning yourself into your blanket and pressing your head further into your pillow, savouring the warmth.

You always had such early mornings when you trained, waking up at ungodly hours only to workout before heading to the rink. Being on the ice was the only thing you loved. Your fans were sweet but everything else after that, the press, the workouts, the food, sucked. So you cherished the late summer morning in Santorini. And no person, let alone a boy who announced his F1 team to you by saying "I'm driving for a papaya", was going to ruin this for you.

Oscar put his hands on his hips, eyeing you with a twitch in his eye. "But breakfast is ready. I cooked!"

You laughed into your sheets lightly. "Oh boy, that's even worse!"

Oscar looked at your peeking head and humoured eyes blankly. "That," he started to say as he began to literally pull you out of your bed by your arms, "is very very rude thing to say to the chef."

"Oscar, no! Let go!" You begged, hands flailing to attach themselves to anything. Falling on the hard cold floor was not the ideal morning for you.

At least not alone.

You jutted out your leg, nudging Oscar's to the side, making him stumble over his steps. As he quickly realised he was losing balance, he threw his body under yours, creating a soft landing for you as you both fell to the floor.

You were laughing too hard to realise Oscar's one hand had even moved to your waist and the other to your head, as if it was to protect you from getting hurt.

"Oh my God! You should've seen your face! It was like–" You turned to mimic his expression but you couldn't find the words. All the air around you had been seized, your throat was dry and you were breathless.

When had Oscar's face become so close to yours?

You couldn't remember the last time you were this close to him. Probably as a child. He was cute back then as well. But growing up changed the both of you. The most apparent reminder of how old you were was the tiny short hairs from his chin that he always tried to shave off. His eyes were still as brown as ever, less big because he grew into his face. And his lips... they were kissable.

His face was also littered with freckles here and there. You didn't even realise your finger had shot out to play connect the dots with them until you could feel his faint warm breath from how close you were.

Your eyes trailed up his face to find his gaze firmly planted on yours. Suddenly you could feel where his hands were and your skin burned at his touch. The current heatwave in Europe had left you in some thin pyjamas. You didn't regret it last night but you definitely regretted wearing them right now.

Hypnotised, you found yourself leaning in naturally. Oscar's head also nudged forward. Your lips were barely a centimetre away from each other. You could hear your name slip out of Oscar's lips as the faintest whisper. Like it was a struggle to say your name because he couldn't think.

His woody and amber scent engulfed you and for a second, you couldn't think.

Not until you could hear your brother scream both of your names from the kitchen, demanding you to come to breakfast.

You blinked, falling out of your trance as quickly as you fell in.

Oscar felt you jerk in his arms suddenly, pushing yourself out of his hold and attempting to stand up. "Y/N, I–"

No. God, no.

You weren't ruining a friendship over this.

You could pretend. Yes. Pretend. You can't see him.

"We're coming!" You yelled back, feeling your cheeks redden with embarrassment and annoyance; both vexing feeling for yourself.

God, what a day to be sober.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Honestly how this holiday had gone from zero to a hundred was beyond you.

Pretending like nothing had happened in your room was harder than you thought. Not when Oscar looked at you with these burdened eyes and like he had something to say to you, right on the tip of his tongue.

You considered avoiding him. But doing so on a family trip was easier said than done. Besides, it would've been pretty obvious to everyone else and knowing your family, they would've made a big deal out of nothing. Because that's what it was: nothing.

But alas, you have a brother. And normally, he's stupid and self-obsessed to the point it bordered on unhealthy. But as your brother, it seemed he had some sort of sixth sense for these sorts of things. Something about the older sibling being superior or whatever lies he convinced himself with.

"Why are you being weird with Oscar? Your brother asked you while you ate some ice cream and caught up with the new season of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. At first, you couldn't fathom watching a character called 'Belly' out of all things but somehow you got hooked.

You paused the scoop of ice cream you put in your mouth, letting it slowly melt away as you stared hard at your nuisance of a brother. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Ha, nice try. You're supposed to use 'literally' when you deny it the second time," Your brother smiled at you smugly.

You pressed your lips together, feeling your teeth slightly grind against your spoon. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to smack the shit of your brother with a spoon or bury him in a six-foot deep hole.

"Come on, lil sis, you can talk to me. Everyone's out of the house right now," He partially jested while being entirely serious.

Burying him in a hole it was.

"I have nothing to say to you," You stated, eyes reverting back to your show.

Your brother narrowed his eyes, grabbing the remote to pause the episode. Ignoring your exclaim of annoyance, he sat down next to you and took your ice cream and spoon away from you to dig into the pint for himself.

You shuddered in disgust. You were not having that flavour for a while.

He pointed your spoon at you. "I know you think I'm stupid, which I may be, but I'm not entirely an idiot. What happened with you and Oscar? You were all happy buddies a few days ago. Now he looks like a lost puppy and you look like you saw Pennywise in the hallway."

You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You couldn't actually let him know he was funny.

"Did he do something to you? Y/N, if he did something wrong to you I swear to God... just tell me and I will end him."

Your eyes widened at the sudden change of the conversation. Sitting up, you waved your hands in urgent dismissal. "No! Oh my God, nothing like that! Holy shit."

Your brother let a relieved exhale fall from his mouth before furrowing his brows. "Then what happened? Is it your stupid crush on him?"

"I–what?" You asked dumbfounded, looking at your brother incredulously.

"Your crush? Like the one you've had since you first laid eyes on him. You know everyone knows right? It's kinda obvious. Well, everyone but Oscar," your brother said nonchalantly.

You blinked blankly at him. "Before I throw myself off of a cliff, I can give you the generous choice of how you die? Personally I'm thinking asphyxiation, arson, or murder."

Your brother gulped, slowly putting away the ice cream. "Okay, first off stop watching Criminal Minds so much. Second of all, you don't need to feel embarrassed. All of us have been secretly rooting for you. Especially mom and Oscar's mom. You should've seen how happy they got when I told them Oscar and Lily broke up. It was seriously creepy."

You sighed, falling onto the couch. "It doesn't matter how creepy it was. We almost kissed! And then you called for us. Any later, I would've ruined our friendship. What's the point anyways? He doesn't like me. I'm gonna die in the friendzone," You dramatically sobbed out.

"Well you can start by not turning the other direction when you see him. Poor guy looks like you killed his dog. Do you think a guy who's dog was killed has any guts to speak to their murderer? And that's beside the fact that he may like his murderer."

Where was that shovel again?

"You know what you need to do? Do something that makes him talk to you. I got it! I could set you up with Arthur! He's in Santorini too! Oscar would hate it."

"Oh my God... do you want me to die?" You asked, slightly horrified at the look of pure joy on your brother's face .

Your brother grinned. "Of course, I do. Would I be your brother if I didn't?"

━━━━━━━━━━━

For as long as he could remember, Oscar was a peaceful guy. He didn't really get angry quickly. He was usually calm and usually could think before he acted.

But all those characteristics were thrown out the window, well into the air of the music festival everyone decided to attend, when he saw you walk into the event with Arthur Leclerc. His former teammate out of all people.

"Is that Arthur? Why is he here?" Oscar asked your brother.

"Hmm?" Your brother turned around, pretending to squint at the two of you briefly before catching your piercing gaze. "Oh yeah... that is him. He told me he was in Greece. Guess he found Y/N first. Makes sense I guess."

Oscar looked at your brother dubiously. "I... what does that even mean?"

"I don't know why but I always got the feeling he liked Y/N," your brother shrugged.

Oscar blinked. "You're taking the fucking piss..." He huffed in disbelief.

"What? Oh? Here they come."

Truth be told, Arthur was more than happy to oblige with your brother's game. He hadn't seen Oscar in a while because they were in different championships now. Getting the opportunity to play with him a bit was a hard offer to turn down.

"Ozzie!" Arthur cheered, bringing him into a hug.

Oscar raised a brow at you. That pet name originated from you when the three of you decided to become superheroes for a day and you decided to name eight-year-old Oscar, 'Ozzie the Mozzie' after he got bitten by one. No one else on Earth called him that but you.

"I was telling Arty here about that mozzie that bit you and he really liked Ozzie the Mozzie," You chuckled softly.

Arty...

God give him strength because Oscar wasn't sure how much longer he could bear this.

To be honest, you weren't much of a music festival type of person. It was always crowded, hot, and filled with some sort of drugs even if you couldn't see it.

But aside from that, you enjoyed the serenity it could bring; the indie music that was well on it's way to becoming pop; the calming breeze; the warming sun.

Well you would enjoy it more if a certain Aussie wasn't staring daggers to the side of your head–Arthur's head.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see a stranger. A somewhat attractively creepy stranger but a stranger nonetheless. You raised your brows and gave a small smile. "Yes?"

"I know you don't know me but I just saw you from over there and I wanted to say you're really pretty!"

You blinked, feeling the three boys around you stiffen at the compliment. You nodded slowly, putting on a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you so much," You responded, laughing awkwardly.

A moment of awkward silence settled in the air as the guy still remained in front of you.

"So... I was wondering if I get could get your number?" The guy asked with an odd glint in his eyes.

The alarms were ringing in your head and an uncomfortable shiver went down your spine. "Uh, I'm sorry. I... I don't really want to. But thanks for your offer," You politely declined.

"Oh come on. I called you pretty... that's gotta be worth your number. Come on."

Oh.

Honestly, you were speechless. Your number which for him was the leeway into your intimate life was worth a compliment.

"Yeah, I don't think so," You quipped sharply, gritting your teeth.

"Come on, baby girl. Let me show you a fun time." The guy stepped forward, his hand reaching towards your body.

You froze at his words. You wanted to move but you couldn't.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Oscar, Arthur, and your brother step in front of you.

"Mate, fuck off. She doesn't want you," Oscar pushed the guy away from you.

Your brother snorted. "I don't think anyone wants him."

The guy sneered, making you wince. He raised his hands in a feigned defence, beginning to turn away from you. Thank God. "Fine. I didn't want a girl like you anyways. All these guys around you... a whore."

Arthur and you, as the pacifists you were, watched in silent horror as your brother poked his tongue in his cheek and Oscar's head quickly whipped towards the guy.

"Oscar..." You warned meekly as Arthur tried to get your brother's attention.

The last thing any of you needed was famed athletes on the front page of ESPN, cited as the cause of a brawl.

"What did you say?" Oscar raised a brow, ignoring your pleas and walking towards the guy. His tone was dark and the total opposite of what he normally sounded like. He was raged.

"The truth," The guy chuckled. "I said she's a whore. Why? What are you gonna do about it, little boy?"

Yeah see, the guy most definitely had a couple of inches on Oscar and you brother. You weren't really keen on seeing them get pummelled to the ground.

Oscar said nothing in response but raised his fist, slamming it into the side of the guy's jaw.

Oh for fuck's sake.

As if the guy had lightening reflexes, the guy quickly pulled his head back up and got a hold of Oscar, getting into a cycle of punches.

Your heart dropped at the sight. Your brother, thank God, and Arthur quickly realised that Oscar wasn't winning anything here, stepping in to push the two men apart. A small crowd began to gather, some thankfully aiding in trying to stop whatever was going on.

Arthur pulled Oscar away and towards you. You held Oscar against you, clutching him tightly as your heart raced in your ears. Somewhere in the muffled sounds you could hear your brother.

"We're going home. Now."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your brother and Arthur had decided to go explain the situation the both of your parents who were out having lunch because you couldn't blame all those bruises and dry blood on Oscar's face by saying he fell. This left you to clean up Oscar to reduce the risk of your parents having a heart attack.

You clenched your jaw, holding the first aid kid and a wet cloth to your side as you walked towards the seated racing driver who had found a lot of interest in the floor all of a sudden while icing his face.

"I can't believe you," You mumbled in annoyance, taking a seat next to him. You gently grabbed his chin, putting side the ice bag, trying to decide on where to start cleaning but you could only wince at his face. His bottom lip and his brow was slightly torn, the side of his jaw and the top of his cheek had started to bruise, and his nose was a blood fest.

All the pain Oscar felt began to disappear as he felt your hands gently graze past his skin, scouting all the damage that had occurred. He looked at your pained eyes and internally sighed. He hated seeing you in pain. "He was disrespecting you. I wasn't going to just let it go."

You rolled your eyes, slowly wiping away the dry blood. "He was like six foot two, Oscar. You're like five foot. He could've ki... he could've really hurt you," You jested before your voice fell into a bare whisper.

Oscar's heart clenched as you went back on your words, watching you grab some antiseptic with shaky hands. He grabbed your hands, holding them with his own and softly looked into your eyes. "But he didn't. I'm fine. See?" He smiled widely before wincing at the pain shooting through his face.

You snorted. "As if."

"Hey, you're talking to a guy who crashes at most craziest speeds. Bet that guy can't do that," Oscar shrugged nonchalantly.

You narrowed your eyes. "If you weren't already hurt, I would've smacked the shit out of you right now. Just so you know."

Oscar grinned at you. "Ah, there's the ever kind Y/N I love."

You rolled your eyes before processing what he had just said. As friends. Friendly love. Right. You shook your head out of your trance, removing your hands from his and returning back to the stupid first aid kit next to you.

Oscar mended his brows together. "Hey," he tapped your thigh, "you heard what I said right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," You said idly, opening the tube of antiseptic cream.

"What? I..." Oscar sighed, taking the cream out of your hands before pulling you closer to him. His hands held your face, looking you dead in the eye. "I said I love you, Y/N. You know... the type where you look at someone and all you know is that you can't breathe without them? The one in your books?"

Your mouth felt dry. You blinked blankly. Your hands felt clammy. You chuckled nervously. "Pfft, what? You don't love me. You mean as a friend, right? I think you need some medicine. Maybe there's some in this kit." Your eyes darted down, frantically looking around the box as your heart thudded against your chest.

"Hey, hey," Oscar called, using his hand to turn your chin towards him. "I don't. I mean, I do love you as a friend, but no. I love love you."

"Well... what about about Lily?"

"As I said... I realised I loved someone else more," Oscar told you, letting his confession sink into your mind. "You know... if your idiot brother didn't call us that day, I definitely would've kissed you."

Oh.

Well.

That was something.

This was real. You weren't dreaming. You hadn't died. Oscar, your childhood best friend and your brother's best friend, was confessing to you.

"Huh... well, if it's any consolation, I probably would've kissed you too," You retorted, trying to keep your quirking lips at bay before you began smiling for too much for anyone's liking.

"Probably? That kinda sucks. Are you sure you wouldn't have definitely kissed me?" Oscar grinned, grabbing your waist and seating you down on his lap.

"Hmm... I mean maybe. This current environment is nowhere near as enticing as my bedroom. I mean what is sexier than me waking up, am I right?" You joked, trying to cover up the fact that you were dying at the proximity between you two.

Oscar pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek, holding your jaw while his thumb grazed your lips. "Well, I can think of a few other things."

You silently watched as Oscar leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were softer than you could ever imagine.

You blinked, taking a mere second to register what was going on. Oscar Piastri was kissing you. Holy shit, Oscar Piastri was kissing you!

You kissed him back, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and the other holding you steady against him. Your skin burned at his touch, feeling his fingers snake past the hem of your shirt and rest on your hot skin.

Oddly enough, despite your heat, goosebumps sprawled across every inch of your skin as his tongue darted out, exploring your own, giving you access to his mouth.

You could've sworn you were walking on fire. One more step and you could've combusted. Your thighs clenched at the moan that slipped from Oscar's mouth as your teeth tugged on his bottom lip, your hands roaming around his chest and his arms.

Oscar's hand wrapped around your hair, enjoying the softness he had wanted touch ever since he realised he had feelings for you. His pants felt tight as he felt your hand brush against his bare torso. Fuck. You were going to do him in. He fell back further into the couch, holding you tighter against him.

The desire you had was blinding you. Your other hand fell to his cheek, forgetting about his injuries till Oscar murmured an "ouch".

You retracted your hands, pulling back from his lips, a move Oscar clearly didn't enjoy as his eyes followed your lips. "Shit!" You exclaimed, "the antiseptic! Sorry!"

Oscar paused in his trance, realising what you were talking about. He smiled softly, lips widening even further when he saw your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

You carefully applied the cream to his brow before moving to his lips. "The diagnosis for you Mr Piastri is no more kissing for you," You grinned.

Oscar looked at you dumbfounded. "I–what? For how long?"

"Mmm... a week?"

"A week?" Oscar repeated in exasperation. "There is no way I can last that long. Not after this. Besides I'm pretty sure kissing actually helps you heal faster."

Your skin warmed further at his confession. You cleared your throat and held his hands. "I am confident that is not scientifically true."

Oscar narrowed his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. "You need to read better medical journals, doc."

You tilted your head to the side, leaning in further. "I think I have an alternative."

"Yeah?" Oscar's eyes danced across your face, smiling softly. "What is it?"

"It's less practical, more theoretical. Confessional, if you will," You shrugged, letting your forehead rest against his.

Oscar shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of you. "Oh really? Don't let me stop you."

"I love you, Oscar. I've loved you since we were little heroes running around in the backyard."

Oscar opened his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist. He smiled widely at you. "Are you sure you said a week?"

You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. "I'm sure."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine

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dilatorywriting · 6 months

Note

Congrats on the milestone! It's always a delight to see your stuff pop up on my dash ^.^ I'd love to see prompt 19 from the dialog that makes your reader swoon with the guy of your choice (smut welcome). Hope the bot infestation takes a chill pill!

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.7k

Prompt 19: "If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this counter."

🌶️ Warning for Mild Spice

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Vil was drunk.

Or well, Vil was as inebriated as he would most likely ever allow himself to be in any sort of public setting to speak of. Which was still above and beyond what you had ever seen of him up to that point. Which was of course to say that he was still walking effortlessly in his sky-high heels and maintaining every bit of the decorum with which he so usually prided himself. The only reason you could tell the difference at all was because you knew this stupid man better than the back of your own hand. And the loose-limbed ease about him combined with the lolling smirk on his lips was as telltale of a sign as any. Not that you could blame him. Winning any award was certainly an honor. Beating out Neige Leblanche of all people would probably have had him drunk on success even without the literal booze to help him along.

He rolled the half-empty flute of bubbling champagne between his fingers and tipped it towards you like an offering.

“Care to try some?”

You huffed, far too fond to be properly exasperated. “At least one of us needs to be able to drive home.”

And your tolerance was, unfortunately, not great. At least, not for the horrifically potent nonsense that this magic-infused world called ‘wine.’ The last time you’d drank during one of these events you’d wound up nearly beating a rude reporter with his own camera, but thankfully had only had the coordination to call the prying ass all sorts of colorful and very impolite things. (‘Secretly fucking Neige Leblanche’ indeed. Vil hadn’t even asked his PR team to spin that one. Just loudly demanded that your indignation should speak for itself and that any such inquiries into your private affairs would be handled personally in the future.)

Vil snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be calling for a car either way.”

He tilted the glass again, and you were forever grateful that he wasn’t a sloppy drunk. You didn’t care if he spilled booze all down your front and stained the stupid, too-expensive outfit he’d all but sewed you into, but the fussing that would ensue would be torturous.

“Just a sip,” he coaxed. “I promise you’ll like it.”

You scrunched up your nose and sighed, plucking the flute from his hand. You went to take a small sip and one of those perfectly painted nails reached up to tap irritably at the rim.

“What?” you frowned.

He turned the glass until the other curved side sat at your lips and gave another pointed tap tap tap.

“From here.”

You went nearly cross-eyed trying to stare down at the rim, and with a bit of determination were able to finally pick out the traces of an imprint from the actor’s otherwise impeccably maintained lipstick.

“Are you serious?” you snorted a laugh.

Those perfectly lined lips of his pursed into something that you would dare to call a pout.

“If you’re not going to let me kiss you in public, then you can at least give me this,” he huffed.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, lips still twitching far too much in amusement. “That was your rule. ‘For my privacy,’ you said.”

He waved you off with a scoff. “Please. That was only when we were keeping entirely out of the public eye. I could hardly complain about it now.”

Now, he said. Like he hadn’t graduated from NRC less than a year ago. Like your introduction into his world of stage lights and red carpets hadn’t all been meticulously curated and released only a month or so prior. You blinked, a bit owlishly. And then decided to indulge his petulance and took a neat, slow slip from right where he’d tapped. Vil was always honest, brutally so. He had no compunctions about telling you what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how it was going to happen. So it wasn’t like the touch of alcohol swimming through his system was going to make him more truthful, just… perhaps more loose with it, it seemed. Less manicured, in his speech.

The model looked endlessly pleased and reached out to snatch the glass back. He lifted it back to his own lips—carefully placed, just as he’d demanded of you—and took a long drag.

“There,” he grinned, all smug satisfaction. Like tricking you into an indirect kiss was any sort of accomplishment to begin with. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You were going to burst out laughing, and someone was going to get it on camera, and Vil’s stupid assistant would never let you live it down.

“I guess not,” you hummed. “How much longer, do you think. Until we can go home?”

Vil took another sip, drinking down the last drops of the sparkling concoction. He deposited the empty glass on a passing server’s tray and turned on you with a sharp smirk that was far too wide and far too wine-warm.

“That anxious to get me alone, darling?”

Oh he was really gone.

You grabbed his hand and hauled him towards a more secluded alcove. Because he hadn’t exactly shouted that, but enough curious heads had turned your way that you weren’t going to chance it. ‘Exclusive after party,’ your ass. No reporters didn’t mean no wandering eyes and ears. And he may have been punch drunk enough not to give two shits, but his PA would certainly make the two of you ‘care’ come morning.

“We’re in public,” you hissed, cheeks dark and ears warm. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Oh?” he crooned, stopping in his tracks. You gave another tug but it was useless. Stupidly towering height aside, Vil was all lean muscle and stubborn determination. If you were moving him at all, it was only because he was humoring you enough to step to your demands. “But that’s what you are, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and you could smell the pop of alcohol off his tongue. “Or at least, you certainly act the part of ravenous lover well enough.”

“Really,” you snapped, hushed. “If you’re going to be like this, do you have to use those stupid lines on top of it?”

“Stupid?” Vil frowned, and his fuzzy gaze focused into something sharp. “Your reactions don’t normally imply that those ‘lines’ leave much to be desired.”

You could feel your ears going hot as coals. “Yeah. Well. In the moment is a lot different from—we’re not talking about this right now!” you squawked. “Your assistant is going to kill me if she finds out I let anyone hear you like this.”

Vil snorted and pulled you the rest of the way into the alcove. “She would never. And besides, it’s my prerogative to say whatever I wish,” he finished on something that was nearly a pout. His lips pressed into a firm line, determined. “Should I try again then? If you thought that one was so stupid.”

“Vil—” you hissed.

“Hmm,” he mused, deliberate. And then, “How about this one, then. All of the accolades in the world couldn’t compare to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

You squeaked and ducked your head against his shoulder, fingers digging into the too-expensive fabric of his suit.

“No?” he cooed, a bit of that familiar, mocking, edge curling over the word. And you were left to wonder if he was really that drunk after all. “Let me try another. As much as I enjoy those cries, I think I like the whispers even more—every part of you of that whispers temptation,” he recited, far, far too warm, “as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

“Would you please just—” you squawked, mortified and melting from head to toe. You were about to remind him again, plead nearly, that they were still very much in public. But then a thought shot off in your head like a lightbulb clicking to life. “You like this,” you hissed at him, accusatory.

“Like what?” he droned, crowding you against the wall. It was dark in the little corner, quiet, but not nearly enough to blot out the low hum of conversations and clinking of glassware just a couple dozen feet away.

Vil dug his fingers into the fabric over your hips.

“It does have its appeal, doesn’t it?” he hummed against your neck and you could feel your blood buzzing beneath his curling lips. “No one to see you, certainly. But everyone will surely know,” he drawled. “That’s the world of show business, I’m afraid. All subtle implications, people whispering about us under their breath.” His hands twisted, bunching up the edges of the crinkling satin. “I’m sure even Neige will hear, eventually.”

“Is that it?” you hissed, biting back a horribly, high pitched little squeak. “You’re still mad at what that reporter said?”

“Of course not,” Vil said, with all the cadence of a well-seasoned liar. “The gossip mongering of one, moronic pest is hardly a problem.” He leaned closer, pushing a leg forward to slot between your. “But I have eyes, darling. And I can see that little rat’s lingering far too long where they shouldn’t.”

You reached up to slap a hand over your mouth and bite into your palm to quiet whatever embarrassing nonsense you would have tried to reply with. Or, well, if you’d managed to reply at all.

“I know you’re anxious to get home, darling,” he droned against your collarbone. You could smell the fizzy remnants of champagne all in your nose. “But this is my party, after all. We’ll have to wait to call for a car for at least another hour,” he apologized, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “That said,” he continued, grinding harder, “if you don’t stop looking at my lips like that without doing anything about it, I might just have to take you right here against the wall.”

A pause, as he canted his head. A soft mess of pale bangs falling over his lidded eyes.

“And there is a very lovely private changing room with a lock just down the hall.”

“…okay,” you squeaked, and Vil grinned—pulling back to wrap an arm around your waist and lead you along. Gait steady and composed as always, and just the barest hint of the wine-warmed-boldness curling over his lips.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Vil x Reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #My Writing #Writing Prompts #Vil Schoenheit

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pelova4president · 1 month

Text

Shadows are to protect III

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect I, II, IV

summary~ Victoria has been nothing but good to you but somehow you find a way to ruin everything

You picked the dead plants up and carried them into your kitchen that was still covered in white flour. Surely you could bring them back to life right. They just needed a little more loving and they’d come back. A little water and some sunlight.

You were puzzled by Alessia’s reaction. She didn’t want you, she made that very clear. But why was she so upset about it. Okay yeah, you made sure to show her that you were over her, that you moved on. But she had a boyfriend, she shouldn't even care.

You took a good look at the plants, they were doomed. In some way they were just like humans. They needed to be taken care of, they need love, light and water. They can't survive on their own, at least not long. Some can, like a cactus. But even they can't remain alive like that forever.

You've been doing most things by yourself, until Alessia. She was your water and sun until she wasn't. And you had held yourself up after but you couldn't keep doing that forever so you'd gone to your sister and then Vicky came along. And Victoria didn't just give you water and sun, she took care of you. And maybe that was the difference between the two of your teammates. One cared for you and the other pretended to.

Victoria was there for you when you needed her and she actually liked being around you. Alessia loved the idea of you, she was there whenever she wanted you. Not when you wanted her. It was a hard pill to swallow but it was the truth. You've been romanticizing this idea of Alessia Russo, the goalscorer, the golden girl, the fucking winner.

And the fucking worst of it all was that you still cared for her.

You fell into a new routine in the upcoming weeks. Victoria insisted on driving you to training even though she was clumsy in her car, maybe even more than Alessia. She'd buy you coffee on the way to training and you'd kiss her thank you every time. It was nice, she was nice.

Victoria took you out on dates after games and you'd have little picnic dates after training. You'd make the food and she covered the drinks. The two of you would spent hours playing with puppy’s and talking. You loved the park.

Training was less enjoyable. You got dirty looks from a certain striker and especially when you were with Victoria. Alessia took it upon herself to make trainings a living hell for you. She tackled you harder than was necessary and was throwing you at the ground every chance she got. You were absolutely fucking done with it and so were your teammates.

“God, Alessia what has gotten into you!” Leah scolded the blonde when she made yet another unnecessary hard tackle. “Nothing, just a bad day.” she grumbled. But Leah knew it wasn’t a bad day, she’s been doing this to you for a long time now. “Whatever, keep that out of training okay. No need to injure our own players.” Leah told her. You rolled your eyes at her, why did she have to act like this.

It wasn’t until days later that you spoke Alessia again. She hadn’t reached out since that kiss with Vic. You didn’t try to text her, if she wanted to say something she should be the one reaching out to you.

Vic drove you to Viv and Beth’s house. They planned some kind of victory dinner before the national camps. You were actively trying to get more along with the team since Victoria was close with most of the girls and you knew she’d love it for you if you got closer with them. Viv was like family for her so you tried your best to put your awkward self away to attend a team dinner.

Everything was going fine, Beth welcomed you in and Rona and Myle were happy to see you too. The dinner was amazing, since Viv cooked it for you. It’s been a while since you had a home made meal so it was nice. There were people all over their house talking and eating, it was kind of like team hang outs you had in Barcelona.

Looking around, in search of a Dutch girl’s eyes your eyes caught those of an English player. Her blues were drilling into you. It was hard to ignore the feeling of someones eyes on you, so you didn’t. You stared right back at her and the only reaction you got was a huff and some eye rolling. Jesus, what did she want.

You got up, ready to pour yourself another drink. “Vicky, you want another drink?” you asked the brunette. She was in a conversation with Teyah so she shook her head no. You walked towards their kitchen. The chaotic noise of conversations was still somewhat on the background but the quieter space was still nice.

Filling your wine glass with some water, something Caitlin would take the mick out of later, you leaned into the wall.

You were somewhat in peace until someone bumped into you. Your eyes shot open, “What the fuck?” you groaned. Blue eyes stared back at you, totally unimpressed. “What? Can’t take a little push, just like in training. Grow up man.” Alessia rolled her eyes.

Now you were getting mad. She’s been the one telling you to fuck off, how you were clingy and that she didn’t want you. “What is your fucking problem. I’ve done nothing to you, i stopped bothering you right? Just like how you wanted.” you placed your glass on the counter.

Alessia took a step towards you. “Yeah so you got with my best friend to get back at me. You’re so fucking selfish.” she huffed out.

“Joder, I didn’t do anything to you! I’ve let you do your thing with your boyfriend. I didn’t say anything to anyone about us, just how you’d like that right. I was just your dirty little secret no one should know about.” you walked out. But she captured your wrist before you could take another step.

“I broke up with him weeks ago and when i wanted tell you i saw you.. with Victoria. I wanted to say sorry but then you seemed like you didn’t want it anymore.” she whispered carefully.

It was hard to believe she wanted you, especially after what she had said to you. “Don’t say that, you don’t want to be with me. You made that very clear.” you turned around. Alessia’s brows were knitted together and her eyes were getting glossy. But she did that every time. And every time she got what she wanted, you in her bed by the end of the night. And after, she told you those lies all over again. How she didn’t want you, how nobody could ever want you and the next Saturday she’d look at you with those eyes and you’d fall for it all over again. It wasn’t healthy.

“Alessia, don’t.” you looked at her. But she didn’t take that for an answer and took your head in her hands like she’d done on some many other evenings. But those evenings were in one of your houses, where nobody could see. Her lips touched yours and you didn’t pull away, not fast enough.

You heard someone clear their throat and that pulled you out of your trance. You opened you eyes and saw Vic standing there with an empty glass in hand. “I- i uh i was just getting something to drink but..” her voice trembled.

“Vicky. Vic, i’m sorry but it’s not what you think it is.” you got out of Alessia’s grasp but Victoria was faster. She picked her keys up from the dinner table and walked out of the door.

Alessia watched the scene play out in front of her and placed her hand on your shoulder. You pushed her hand off of you. “Fucking look what you did Alessia! I don’t want you okay, you’re confusing me and i don’t need that. I just want someone that loves me as much as i love them and you clearly don’t” you breathed out. The tears had found an escape in the corners of your eyes and they traveled down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily and walked out of the door.

Why couldn’t Alessia just leave you alone. You were finally getting along with everyone, you found your person, football was going good but she just couldn’t let you be. You’ve hurt Victoria, the only person that cared about you enough to be there for you.

You took your phone out of your back pocket and called her. No answer.

“Vicky, lo lamento. I didn’t want that. I only want you and our picnic dates, your weird movie choices and your clumsiness. I’m so so sorry. I will explain everything if you give me the chance. Ik hou van jou.” you spoke.

You knew she never listened to her voicemail but it was worth a shot. Maybe she’d listen to it. You had to leave for camp tomorrow and somehow that felt worse than your situation here. You had to pretend everything was fine and you were thriving at Arsenal like always. And you had to leave Victoria, that just wasn’t fair. You don’t get the chance to make it right.

And even though you don’t have a choice in leaving, you want to stay, or even better, disappear.

A/N i don’t know what i’m writing anymore. It seems like the story is only getting more angsty and there has to be another part. Should r just disappear and move or something?

#shadows are to protect #woso fanfics #woso community #arsenal wfc #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #engwnt #barca femeni #victoria pelova x reader #victoria pelova #barca women #espwnt #alexia putellas x reader

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bitchlessdino · 8 months

Text

mood rings, drive thru theaters, and the latest issue of tiger beat (m)

Pairing: chan x college student!reader (afab) Genre: angst, smut, fluff Word count: 6.9k tags: SVTHUB COLLAB, set in the 70s, plot twist with dark ending (possibly triggering to some), pwithplot, tutor!reader, busty!reader, pining, brief mention of religion, mention of recreational drugs, mention of death, mention of medicine and medical practice, mention of tragedy (car crash), breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, couch sex, handjob cream pies, dirty talk. Summary: when you fall in love, it can feel like you’ll be with that person forever, that there isn’t another being in the world you rather be with. This case is just as heavy in your youth, tutoring a boy you’ve only ever walked circles around, while you wear a mood ring from his parents souvenir shop so you could feel closer to him. When it happens, you don’t expect things to crash harder than the way they do. author note: she's here!!! i might reedit later but i wanted to get this out before i changed my mind about the plot again so enjoy and check out the rest of the collab!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

Falling in love in the seventies wasn’t easy. You didn’t have mobile phones or text messaging, hell, you were lucky if you had email. Most people didn’t. That’s what made it so much harder to be a person stricken in love. All you had was paper, a pen, and the possibility of hearing something through your home landline.

Every day you would wait for the confirmation call he’d be coming. He was one of the polite ones. You were grateful to have formally met him through the tutoring program held in college and you look forward to that phone call and the weekly meetings every Tuesday and Wednesday to go over organic chemistry. Somewhere in that mix, you had hoped to find your own chemistry with him despite knowing how selfish that’d be.

You’d never admit it loud but you had the classic high school pining back when you attended the same classes in the same town. He was a sweetheart then just like he was a sweetheart now and you longed for him like any other teenager. He had you doodling combinations of your names together in a worn out notebook and cherishing an item you secretly associated with only him. Yours was a mood ring.

In the summer of 74’, a new souvenir shop had just opened around the block after countless failed businesses by previous owners. This shop was owned by the Lees, a cute mom-and-dad duo that was sweeter than any cream-filled Twinkee. There was not a thing intimidating about them. They seemed like good people. What you weren’t ready for was their son working the register that day.

What was it about a man in wide leg jeans and a tight fitted shirt that made you want to physically fall to your knees?

At the time, he was wiping a glass candy tray rather meticulously. He has only greeted whoever came in without looking, too focused on getting every dust particle out of every crevice, so he didn’t notice how you found him to be the most interesting sight you’ve seen.

His smile when seeing the swell job he’s done was priceless compared to every piece of merchandise in the store. If there was a chance you could bottle up and take it away for keeps, you would. You would tell the local newspaper this store would be a new world wonder just from this boy alone.

You had to pinch yourself to finally pull your eyes away from him, scanning for something, anything, interesting enough to purchase and ring it up with him. Finally, your eyes land on something colorful, ever-changing, and wearable.

“Will that be all for today?”

You nodded, holding back a wide grin as you watched him run through your purchase. His smile never faltered in front of you, and for some reason, it made you feel special, despite the assumption he probably smiled in front of anyone who came in. Still, it made an impression.

“That’ll be a dollar please and since you’re a new customer,” he picked something from a box behind the counter, “a pack of now and laters for the road. You can have one now and another later. They’re great.”

God, he’s cute.

You mused at him, accepting the ring and freebie after paying him up front. “Thank you.”

“Have a great day. Catch you on the flip side!”

You waved back at him on your exit, immediately regretting not staying longer to chat. As expected, your mind went blank the second he spoke to you, and the moment you were alone, you slid on the mood ring on your ring finger and focused all of your energy on thinking about the questions you could’ve asked. For him, that was like any interaction, but for you, it’ll be a core memory.

It was throughout the years you realized that you’d be attending the same high school, sharing the same senior year, experiencing the same last year festivities, but despite the many opportunities, you never had an encounter like that with him again. You’d pass by that souvenir shop countless times, glancing at him while he worked every shift, but cowardly never approached him again. Not with the lack of trying, of course, your adolescent self was too busy to find a way to make him fall in love with you according to whatever you read in Tiger Beat.

You remember flipping through it, back and forth, momentarily distracted by the boyish charm of David Cassidy, and then going back to reread it in case you missed something. This had been your adolescent bible to understand whatever was on trend because only God knew you needed it. Somedays, you’d pretend you were talking with him through your magazine posters. Now that was a face deserving to be in magazines.

“You’re still thinking about that boy? Just talk to him already.”

Even your closest friend, Stacey, couldn't get your head out of the clouds.

You adamantly shook your head, the magazine clung to your chest. “No, absolutely not. Me talking to him wouldn’t even happen in my dreams. In fact, I’d probably have to pay admission to see him in my dreams.”

She rolled her eyes, letting you get back to whatever exactly you were doing. “Okay, drama queen. We get it. You like a boy.”

She was used to this at that point and it’d be all the same. You never outgrew it entering colleges either, the same one he happened to attend, which you couldn’t have been more stoked to find out. “He’s not just any boy, Stacey. he’s the boy. He’s so far out. I can’t even fathom his existence.”

You were in fact exaggerating, but at the ripe age of 18 all of it felt sincere and you truly did believe it was all true.

And to think you hadn’t formally met him yet until you started participating as a tutor in a peer help program at your University. You didn’t expect much of it, only thinking of collecting some community hours and hopefully maintaining a good reputation with your professors and there he was, like fate. There he should, hair coifed in intentional pristine, a loosely buttoned vibrant green shirt, and familiar tightly fitted pants that flared from the bottom.

Your breathing seized, stunned by the sheer fact you have stood this close to him since the first time your eyes laid on him. When he turned to you, he didn’t seem to notice your reluctance to walk closer as he strode confidently in your direction.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Lee Chan. You're my tutor, right?”

Your heart sounded like a metronome at the highest speed at this point, taking your breathing in little by little, timidly returning him with your own introduction. Safe to say, you were both scared out of your mind, yet excited about this turn of events. Though, if you thought about it too hard, you had the chance of rendering tutorship useless and then it’s farewell to Chan.

That’s when you made the executive decision to omit him from your head during these sessions and treat him like any other peer needing help, as you initially intended with anyone you were assigned. If you wanted to continue these sessions and help out Chan, you needed to do more than think about what your future looked like together with 2.5 kids and a big picket fence.

You picked up a polite smile and settled in at a table, flipping a textbook to the first chapter of the course. Fortunately, he followed just as any other person struggling in chemistry and attempted to keep up with the lesson plan. As expected, you’d stumble over many of your teachings, forgetting some of the information yourself and having to refer to the book due to the blinding glow of your student, but as time passed, things eventually were more tolerable.

It was a few months later found an easier medium of being infatuated with the young man but helpful enough to pass the assignments in the above-average percentage. He just happened to be a good student that required more patience. Somewhat, it made you warm to learn that about him, including the fact he was good at listening, or how his eyes lit up picking up a lesson and recalling from memory. However, you kept this situation mostly professional, avoiding social interactions that would take away from your role. That was until Chan found comfort in spending time with you, having a sense of gratitude much grander than anyone teaching him Aldol reactions or valence electrons.

You could feel his soft gaze as you outlined something on his study sheet, emphasizing its importance since it’s appearing in the final he’d be taking eventually. If this were you back in the days of learning his name for the first time and thinking about him every waking second, you’d faint right about now. You’d be lying right now if you said you didn’t feel dizzy from the heat of his presence, but as you have been for the time spent together in the library, you’ve trained yourself to ignore it while mastering to subdue your intrusive thoughts.

Chan somehow found a way around that.

“Oh, your ring. Looks like the one in my parents' shop.”

You momentarily glanced back at the trinket before zone backing into today’s lesson, awkwardly chuckling to yourself. “Oh. Ha ha, that’s because it is.”

His eyes lit up the way they do, a cartoonish gleam in his eyes. “Really? I think I’d remember seeing you.”

“It was once a really long time ago.”

“Well, you should visit again. I can give you a good discount. We just got a big shipment of pop rocks.”

“Okay, sure.” You smiled, internally giggling at the thought of Chan entertaining himself with explosive candy and sharing it with you like the coolest treasure. “Alright. Organic compounds—“

“We really met before?” He interrupted.

“It really was so long ago. I’d be surprised if you did remember.”

“Well, I feel bad. I feel like there’s time it should be making up.”

You waved it off, not minding the now teary expression of guilt on his face. “It’s fine, Chan.”

“How about we go and watch a movie? I think the drive thru is replaying ‘The Godfather’. You should come with me.”

“Really? I don’t know.”

“Come on, consider it a thanks. You don’t even get paid for all the time you’ve spent teaching me.”

“No, but I get community hours. Speaking of teaching.” He placed his hand over yours, cuffing off the words caught in your throat. You find yourself helpless at the sweat pleas of Chan who works the cute angle all too well as he scooted closer to you. “I don’t think I can rest knowing I haven’t found a way to thank you. You’ve been tutoring me for 4 months. The least I can do is take you out.”

You’re a bit stunned, your leg already shaking in nerves as you never expected such a proposal to easily leave his lips and for you nonetheless. You exhaled, mustering the courage to meet his eyes before nothing, pressing your lips to discourage an all too gleeful smile. “Fine. We’ll watch ‘The Godfather’.”

He let you go, beaming, and tracking his pencil tracking over his notebook filled with chicken scratch that was comprehensible to him. “Good, I can pick you up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated before gluing his eyes back on the textbook, a noticeable hue of peak creeping up the back of his neck. “So, organic compounds...”

This arrangement was all you could think about until the day of, reading and rereading your magazines for possible outfit ideas, dating tips, and anything with the potential of making the best of this nerve-wracking situation.

On the day of, you got in your best get up just in time for the meetup. Anxiously, you turned your mood ring around your finger as you waited by the door, contemplating to yourself if what you chose was the right course of action. When the knock came, you came swinging the door open and pinched yourself from swooning seeing him in casual attire, including jeans that hugged his hips just right.

Chan, on the other hand, didn’t hide his emotions. Bright and animated, you grew hot under his watch, fiddling with the mood ring now on your middle finger and seeing it glare back a yellowish orange, indicating how nervous you really were. He took cautious steps towards you, mouth falling in awe, and he tugged at his band tee, which now felt lackluster compared to what his eyes were now seeing. “You look really good. I feel underdressed.”

“No, no,” you said, shaking your head and stepping down from the porch. “I just threw something on.”

“Well,” he offered an elbow, “shall we?”

You accepted his offer and hooked it through, hiding your elation. “Of course.”

He escorted you to the car and guided you to the passenger seat before closing the door, allowing you a moment to swallow the spaciousness of his station wagon before heading off to the theater.

Cars beside cars, people neither mingling, making out, or taking advantage of the concession stands with 25-cent popcorn and pop. The sun was in the process of setting before it became a violet hue and eventually pitch black, perfect for movies. You got out of the car and smoothed out the wrinkles of your outfit, taking another deep breath.

You only had a fleeting second seeing him come out from the driver's seat, a smile settling on his face for what felt like you and only you.

Then came the hoard. Voices calling out Chan’s name, boys and girls his age gathered around him, offering his gregarious greetings and rowdy conversation. They hounded him with hugs, not minding you who stood off from the side behind the cat. Your expression dropped, starting from your smile before spreading over your body language. Chan, remembering your existence, tugged you from the hood and brought you to his side. He briefly introduced you as his tutor, and you did your best to greet them back just as politely.

They nodded at you, sly faces towards Chan as if you wouldn’t notice, and then came their bombarding again, only this time in your presence. You kept up the calm facade, only laughing when necessary before turning to the person who brought you here. “Nice to meet you all. Hey, Chan. I’m gonna get some snacks.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

You didn’t let the disappointment show on your face as you walked away but let it fall free as your back was towards the group. You hear their teasing and playful banter, questioning if you’re really just his tutor and Chan confirming, leaving no implication for anything else. You crossed your arms in embarrassment, already regretting letting this situation occur, imagining the worst scenarios to come.

You quietly asked for popcorn and a grape pop, greeted with your refreshments a few moments later, along with a box of raisinets. Your lips parted in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t order these.”

“On the house,” the guy winked, leaning over the counter a little too close for comfort, “a secret promotion for cuties like yourself.”

“Ah,” you gave him a tight-lipped grin, visibly distancing yourself, “thanks.”

“You know, I can always sneak away from my post for little liplock in—“

“Hey, you doing alright? I was worried about you.” You didn’t have to look to know. His body came crashing into yours. An arm slung over your shoulder, an action almost as natural as breathing. “Do you have enough?”

Your eyes flickered toward Chan who came to your rescue, nodding curtly. “Huh? Y-yeah.”

Chan met the seller's eyes before accepting your purchase for you, handing you over only the popcorn. You stared at the box of raisinets before he tugged you away from the stand.

“I did good, right? I’ve been told that guy’s a creep. I didn’t know he worked here.” His whisper sent chills through your body, yet burned your ears. You could feel the fanning of his breath, tickling your skin and raising every hair in your body.

“Me neither.”

“He’s not a good guy. You see him around, walk in the other direction ok?”

You nodded, taking his advice into serious thought. “Thanks, Chan.”

When it’s clear you’re out of sight, he parted from you, keeping his hands down his pockets, visibly apologetic. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that. He just won’t let it go unless he finds out you have a boyfriend or something.”

“Mmh-hmm.”

“Let’s get back to the others, hmm?”

You spent most of the night with Chan and his friends. Some laughed at how cheesy the movie was or actually scared of what was actually occurring (Chan was a mix between the two). You’d enjoy it more if you weren’t a bit bothered by the circumstances. All you could was glance in Chan's direction while he smiled and laughed along with his friends. Even though you were sitting next to him in the same car hood, you never felt further away. Every direction tonight felt like a punch in the gut, having only spoken to him before the movie started. At this point, you felt as if you had no place here, blinking away the humiliation tears threatening to fall.

“I’m a little cold. so I’m gonna finish the movie in the car.”

Finally, his eyes landed on you, “What?”

You slid off the hood and dusted yourself. Chan followed behind you confused before seating himself inside the car with you, a worried expression on his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” You splayed a less genuine smile, raising your cheekbones for good measure, but seeing its failure to convince otherwise.

“That means I did do something wrong,” he said, smiling bitterly. “Sorry. I’m not the best at picking up cues.”

“I told you, Chan. I just got cold.”

He sighed and turned to reach for something behind, pulling over something thick and warm over your body, covering your torso and legs. “Here. So you won’t catch anything.”

There’s that familiar clang to your heart you should be used to by now, following the marching band that typically arrives after inside your chest. “Thank you.”

You both sat in silence for a bit, continuing to watch the rest of the movie. He makes so attempt to communicate with his friends outside and he doesn’t smile, only focusing on the movie, insistent on being in your presence. You aren’t sure how to behave, fingers inching at lingering awkwardness.

“If I’m being honest,” You started saying, filling the charged air with something other than tension, “I didn’t expect to see that many people with us.”

“You didn’t?”

You shook your head. “I misunderstood all on my own. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just finish the movie.”

“Hey—“

“I’m feeling warmer already,” You said, grinning as yourself deeper into the blanket.

Your eyes were ready to train back in the movie before he spoke again, hearing a tone in his voice you weren’t all that familiar with. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable alone with me. I guess I did anyway.”

Guilt festered in the out of your stomach, regretting making a big scene out of nothing. “That’s not—“

“I got scared,” he admitted, the corner of his lips quirking up in a self-loathing grin. “They already saw my tickets so they thought they would get some too. Make it a group thing. I didn’t want it initially, but I thought, maybe it’d make things easier…I should’ve run it by you.”

You met his eyes, earnest yet soft. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this, processing his confession slowly. A fit of emotions wash over him and you see now the inner conflict that he had dealt with, somehow washing you over with relief. The final deep exhale you let out was solace, thinking to yourself how situations like this only happen in movies and books. You’re warm all over, an overwhelming urge to reach over and hug him, a fellow rambling mess.

“You didn’t misunderstand anything. I did want to go to the movies with you, but I wasn’t sure if you felt pressure or—“

You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He stiffened under your touch, blinking back at you like a lost child. You smiled back at him from ear to ear and body leaned over on his side. “Just hold my hand. We’re not going to cause any more misunderstandings. Okay?”

He matched you, his pearly whites staring back at you as pretty as ever. “Okay.” His thumb caressed over your fingers, noticing something interesting as he did so. “It’s purple.”

“Hmm,” You looked down at your clasped hands, noticing that same thing he did: your mood ring in a solid rich purple. “It is.”

“Do you remember what purple means?”

You avoid edhis eyes, quietly laughing to yourself. “You know better than anyone.”

“I do.” He tightened his grip, head leaning against your shoulder and it felt as if time had stopped. You don’t doubt that he can hear your heart racing right or your uneven breathing. He turned the ring around your digit, watching how the colors periodically shift. “I won’t let there be any more misunderstandings.”

Since that incident, you went about your tutoring sessions as normal, with the additional intimacy that didn’t exist before. You both gradually developed these sessions into more study dates and then they became real dates. Things only became official when the semester finally ended and he continued wanting to see you, visiting your place whenever you got the chance using any possible excuse.

You could remember how happy you felt at the time. The relief there was to know he liked you back. It was almost as if you were living a dream. A damn perfect dream.

Then your first kiss came around. You were as nervous as anyone anticipating the first. Every doubt in the past didn’t matter, only now did. Everything all led up to this point. It just happened in the way you least expected it to.

You didn’t know why he insisted on teaching you how to play arcade games when he was just as bad. Still, it was cute seeing him try so hard. The firmness of his back followed your movement, guiding you to the right combos, shifting the joystick to move in the right direction, and although it was all wrong, you appreciated the back hug you were getting in return. Even the claw machine had to be a teaching lesson, insisting he had something to teach you.

“I did it. Chan, I did it!” You saw the stuffed dinosaur grabbed by the metal prongs, dropping right into the winner’s slot. You bounced on your feet cheering and took Chan along with you, hugging him tightly as your inner child healed and squealed at your achievement.

“I knew you could! You’re amazing.” His strong arms came around you firmly, pressing you against the glass of the machine.

Your breath was seized, replaced with weightlessness and tension in your chest that doesn’t seem to want to leave and perhaps you didn’t want it to. Although he didn’t pull away from the embrace, he parted far enough to meet your eyes and the longing in them. He knew what it was because that’s what was in his eyes, falling into their trance like a lucid dream that had him higher than any recreational drug. Neither one of you was willing to let it go, so all you do is stare. Stare at each other like you’re in your own world and no one else’s. As if life as you know it ceased to exist except for you and Chan. Nothing else matters.

When it felt as if you could imagine a more perfect moment, he leaned in with closed eyes, finding your lips like they were a second home and stealing your breath. You thought to lean in to kiss him deeper, but he already had found his grasp and pressed into you closer against the glass, feeling every ounce of muscle and shape of his body beneath his clothes. His shallow breath against yours, his hug of lips pulling at your bottom lip, and he emitted a soft grunt.

He pulled away from you with his arms still wrapped around your sides, shocked by his impulsivity. He stroked the side of your head, scanning for any fear in your eyes, slightly relieved to see any in sight. “I’m sorry. That was…a lot, huh?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No.”

“Then I can kiss you again?”

The corners of your lips turned up, gripping his jean jacket to pull him closer. “Yes.”

You were kissing for hours that day and the next day, and then again the day after. Since then, something has shifted and these teenage dreams turned reality into something less family friendly. Your nights in his dorm became more frequent, more intimate, and always backed by a melody thanks to a record player gifted to him by his dad when he moved out. His prized possession, besides you anyway, as he claimed.

“What do you want to be when you’re older,” he asked, dragging his digits in and out between yours. He smiled, noticing your mood ring turning a mix of pink and purple before kissing your knuckles. “You know I want to be a nurse. What’s your dream?”

In the background was Led Zeppelin, their intoxically addictive tune spinning on the table. You thought to yourself a bit before turning your head back up at him, nuzzling closer into his warm touch before answering. “I want…to be surrounded by the people I love.”

He laughed like he heard the sweetest thing on planet Earth before his fingers threaded through your hair. “Baby, that’s sweet but not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, but it’s what I want. It doesn’t matter much what I do, as long as I’m with my loved ones.”

“Am I one of these loved ones? Do you love me?”

“Yeah. I love you.” You didn’t even hesitate, the words were always on the tip of your tongue until that final push. You lifted alight above him to repeat yourself louder. You let him heed your words. “I think I really love you.”

You thought he’d react differently, more scared and unsure but—“I love you too.”

“Chan,” you smile, warm filling your inside as you let your breath chase away the race in your chest.

“I mean it.” He bent his head down to meet your lips, cupping your cheek with the warmth of his palm. “I really, really love you.”

Chan toppled over you, lips meeting yours repeatedly in a heated frenzy, caressing your body and holding you desperately against him as you did the same to him. He kept you between his legs, whispering it over and over, ‘I love you, I love you,’ blistering and marking your skin. How was it that made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to breathe?

Before you realize it, clothes started coming off. Piece by piece. As ‘Babe I’m gonna leave you’ replayed, shirts, belt, pants, and everything underneath fell to the ground. You saw him. You saw all of him. And he saw all of you. Your instinct was to shield away, be conscious of your then and there but in his own way, he reassures you, speaking to you as though all his words were nothing but the earnest truth. “I’m here. You’ll never have to worry about me not being here. I love you so much.”

Your flesh spilled through his fingers, imprinting his hands through your nude. Sounds of worship leaving his lips between every kiss, not even the worry of lack of condoms could stop him. Your thighs were glued to his hips, and you felt the warmth of his length titter to your fresh heat. You moaned every time you met lips, every bite he gave to your skin, and every full twist his fingers made with your sensitive buds before filling the inside of his oral cavity of your full breast.

You ached to have him in you, hand barely reaching his girth before wrapping a tight wrist around him. He shuddered at your touch, thrusting through the circle of your palm. You felt the need in his movement as he grinded down on his couch, not minding the wool burn inevitable to be left behind. Weak chuckles escaped his lips and he flashed you a smile, seconds away from melting into helpless groans. “You know just how to handle me…”

“Only because you treat me so well.”

Kissing one breast and then the other, he reached your lips as he held your thighs against the sides of his torso. “And I’ll do it for as long as I’m alive.”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself against him, his warm breath tickling the tip of your nose. “Make love to me. I wanna feel you inside me.”

“Then I won’t wait a second longer.”

The moment you felt him inside you, you felt higher than anything you could find in a blunt offered by the shady next-door neighbor. You buckled into him, lifting your hips off the couch for a fully bloomed taste. The stretch he left had your jaw falling, clutching to his shoulder, and letting out exasperated breaths. You nearly choked on your own spit that had only forced it down when he picked up the pace.

You molten walls only sucked him in deeper, calling his name in blurred whines. Each thrust and each kiss was fueled by an undying passion. He carried you, palm to your back and your legs around his waist, and pulled you on top of him. From beneath you, he drilled your insides, meeting your longing expression.

Your fingers draped over his face, and you held on to his blissful expression that occasionally dropped in anguish when chasing after his rhythm. You whined his name desperately, clinging to him as you dug down your hips down his lap. He moaned louder than before, gingerly cupping your breasts and finding your stiff nipples between his fingers.

“You feel so good taking me…and your tits are so soft and warm.” He pushed himself to thrust hard, pleased with how easily you easily bounced against him, watching your flesh moving loud and fluidly like water. “You’re so perfect to hold, and love, and fuck my dick into—shit.”

Your chest rose and fell catching up with his efforts. “Chan, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So, so, so—fuck!”

You felt his grip grow tighter and saw his jaw drop lower. His legs clenched to your sides impulsively, unwilling to let go. Soon enough, he couldn’t take it anymore and came inside you. He looked as if everything in his brain told him not to, but it seemed that nothing could stop the geyser within him from coating your insides with hot ivory. He snapped into you in an erratic rhythm, cum spilled in you and out of him until it stained the wool underneath.

Chan was red in the face, both in embarrassment and heat. He looked up at you in panic at the direness of circumstance considering neither one of you thought to stay protected. “Shit, fuck,” he exclaimed still pumping inside you, “you feel so good. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, bending down to kiss him. “It’s okay, just don’t stop…please…”

His stressed expression melted, as did his fingers into your skin. He caressed over your sides with love in his eyes, swallowing nervously. “Really, baby? That ok?”

Perspiration coated his skin, beading down his adam’s apple as it bobbed. You felt like mush in his touch, letting your hips make use of the natural lubricant. Your boyfriend groaned at the sound of the slick moisture sliding over his skin. You cupped his face in your hands, working your jaw in a needy liplock. “Yes, please. Fuck your cum in me, please.”

His fingers tensed, dragging your lips to slap down on his. He exhaled slowly, your walls hugging his cock erect. He asked in a breathy voice, “Fuck my cum in you…my pretty girlfriend wants something so dirty done to her?”

“Yes, yes, please…” You whined.

He slammed up into you, feeling how he’s already bottoming out inside you. Hearing you moan his name lit a fire beneath him and he rolled you on your back to rut in you like a merciless animal.

“You want my cum in you, hmm? Fill you up with my cum and put my fat load in you?”

You jerked in the opposite direction, your skin smacking against each other causing the tenderness of your skin. “Yes, please,” You choked out, “I want it all with you.”

His lips picked up from the corner in a smirk, turning you back over to plant you against the couch while his feet finally touched the ground. “You want it all? Like a life? A family? You want me to build a family with me…have me fuck my babies into you?”

“Yes, baby, please. I want you to fill me up so I can make you a daddy.”

“You love me that much?” He slammed into you with a proud smile. “You love me so much you see your future with daddy?”

You batted your lashes back at him. “I see every day either full of joy or full of your cum inside me.”

He snickered before biting his lips in a filthy moan, “Such a dirty mouth on the mother of my kids.”

You’re spent by the time your legs gave out, and you and your boyfriend exhausted your bodies to the point you couldn’t move even an inch off the couch. Cum seeped out of your holes like sap, only halted as you pressed your legs together to get comfortable. Chan had barely enough energy to tug a blanket off from behind him and throw it over your bodies. You smiled into his warmth, nuzzling into his chest, and inhaling his lusty musk.

You moaned in satisfaction. “Mmh, I like this…”

“Me too.” He hummed.

“I never want this to end.”

“And it won’t,” he said, kissing the temple of your forehead.

“Are you hungry?”

You moaned. “Starving.”

He chuckled, holding you closer to him as his voice dropped an octave. “Let’s fill you up with something, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you lightly shoved him. “Chan…”

“Food, babe,” he said with a cheeky smile, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

After a quick shower, and a few wet kisses in between, you’re set to refresh yourselves with some fast food and can’t help but be filled with elation. You cozied into the passenger seat accepting the hand he’s offered as the other steadied the wheel. You can’t help but notice how he glanced every now and then when he shouldn’t, making you nudge him to fix his gaze.

It was always a loving one, one that you’d forever burn in your memory. You don’t even know why, but you shed a tear looking at it. That smile of his seems to go on for miles and brightens your day like the morning sun. You felt it in your heart. Something suffocating that you couldn’t describe but all you think in your head is that this was love and that loving Chan would be the easiest thing you could do.

He sent you another glance before making a turn, one a little longer than the few before, then all you heard was a loud blaring honk, your voice screaming his name, and then your vision went pitch black. You stared into darkness. Emptiness. Nothing was in sight.

That was until your eyes were open again. You woke in a place of all white, smelling of antiseptic and a hint of febreeze. You slowly blinked, scanning the room, unmoving. Still, in fact.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine. Sleep well?”

You only could see who entered when they walked in your field of vision. Your eyes stared in shock at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling back at you in scrubs as he wrote away in his clipboard and looking as if he hadn’t aged a day. You internally screamed at your body to move, crying from within the inside at the inability, and then soon growing tired, realizing it’d never be possible. As he put away documents in a file holder pinned to the high wall, you stressed your throat to speak, hoping for the least a sound to follow, but instead, it was your silence.

“I’ll just open the blinds a bit, make sure they’re not too much light in your eyes. Too bad your nap was a little long. The weather was so good. I thought we could roll you out into the garden.”

You are losing your mind. The last thing you could remember was a car accident that felt like mere seconds ago and staring into the eyes of the man before you, who matched the love in your eyes. Now you’re imprisoned in your own immobile body, with no clue why and how the love of your life survived when you barely did.

“Your heart is pounding. Wait a second.”

Chan strode over to the monitor just out of view, forcing yourself to rely on your peripheral to watch him. His side profile and his body were all within reach but unassessable. You felt the sweat of your palm through the sheer determination alone, but to no avail, he stayed away from your grasp.

“Hmm, we’ll have to figure that out.”

Finishing up, he stood in front of you like a figure of light radiating brightness unfathomable to man. A light bright enough to fully grasp your reality. Your true reality.

That’s right. He’s not your boyfriend. You were never together.

You’ve been the way you were for two years, by a car accident nonetheless. This was Nurse Lee–your caretaker and nurse–who insisted you call him by name and talked to you as if you could talk right back.

And this wasn’t the 1970s. It was the 2070s.

Your gaze quickly turned to “Three's a Company” playing on the highly advanced TV plastered on the wall, momentarily surprised that they still had the show on cable, before snapping right back to your nurse, now going on about the daily work gossip. You couldn’t help but stare again, watching his handsome face turn up in a smile every time something delightful popped into his pretty little head as he spoke. Your eyes fluttered in remorse, a familiar sinking feeling in your chest as you inhaled and exhaled through your breathing tubes.

It all made so much sense. Too much in fact. Here you were in dreamland living in disbelief that someone as sweet and kind and Charming as Lee Chan—nurse Lee Chan—would ever be someone so madly in love with you. You lived a happy and healthy and normal life in your dreams, shutting off from the dark truth of your world is, as if you’ve never been in this accident. You dreamt of life before it was taken away before you narrowly escaped death.

If you could call this escaping death anyway. You were practically dead.

And perhaps the worst part—

“Vivian liked the flowers you suggested. I think she’ll finally stop being mad at me thanks to you.”

He gently moved your head to fluff the pillow behind you and placed you back on top. He brushed away a hair that strayed over your face, and you felt a sensation pulse through your fingers. “I wish you could meet her. You’ve always been there to listen to me talk about the wedding planning, the bridal stuff, and then the actual wedding. I hope you liked the photos, the guy we hired was—phew—a pretty penny.”

You started to blink rapidly, seeing your reality crumbling before you, and all he could do was look as devastatingly beautiful as always, even with the dark circle under his eyes from long hours of work.

“I talk a lot, huh? That’s what you’re thinking. Sorry, you’ve always been a listener, not that you can help it.” He chuckled to himself. “Sorry, dark joke. I’m sure if you could move now, you’d laugh.”

No, you wouldn’t.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second. Don’t worry.”

He did the last round of his thorough check-up of your room before standing by the door with his clipboard in hand. Clicking his pen, he turned back to you one last time with a smile now turned bittersweet.

“Any day now. Your heart pulses a little faster every day. Your family is waiting for you. And because I’ve grown attached to you I’m waiting for you too. Maybe after all this, we could be friends, then you can tell me how much you love or hate when I talk to you. Just as long as you’re up and running again.”

The moment the door closed, you were alone again. The fluid built in your tear ducts finally found their escape and streamed down your still face, facing their discomforting warmth. Your chest heaved, your grew breaths shallow, your throat went dry, and suddenly your lips quivered. In solitude and sheer desperation, you said your first words in years.

“Chan…come…back…”

But it didn’t matter.

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cameronspecial · 7 days

Note

dad!drew , coming home from the hospital after giving birth and bring the baby home , and the first night with the baby !

Their Own Little Party

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

“You know you could’ve driven faster,” Y/N comments, tossing the strap of the diaper bag over her shoulder. Drew peeks into the car seat where his sleeping daughter is and smiles. He unbuckles the seat, taking her out gently. His head moves like a dog shaking off water, “Are you crazy? I had two precious cargoes in the back. I wasn’t going to go any faster than that.” She giggles and goes to his side. “I feel like you could’ve done that without driving so slow. I mean, Baby, even that little old lady flipped you off,” she notes, opening the front door for him and switching the lights on. He sets the car seat down and drops to the floor to start taking Mila out of her car seat, “She was mean.” Y/N watches as he picks up their daughter. “This is your home, Pumpkin. We are now in the front entryway, where I’m going to teach you how to tie your shoes and put on your jacket in that funny way kids do,” he whispers the next part. “After I figure out how to do that.” “Are you going to do this for every room?” she questions. Y/N finds it adorable, but giving birth and worrying about being a mom has really drained her. All she wants to do is get to bed and she knows Drew is going to take forever with his tour. He can read her like fortune-telling tea, “Why don’t you go sleep? I can handle putting her to bed tonight.”

“Really? But we need to parent together and this is her first day home.”

“I’m not going to stop you from missing out on this milestone if you want to help. However, I hope you know that even though she is only a few days old, I do feel like we are doing this parenting thing together. We don’t need to do everything together for us to be doing this together. Sometimes we’ll just need to take turns.”

It would be nice to go through this milestone with Mila, except Y/N has already gone through a nighttime routine with Mila during their time at the hospital and she would much rather sleep than experience the same routine in a new setting. Relief spreads across her and she steps onto her tippy toes to kiss him. “Thank you so much, I love you.”

———

Crying comes from the baby monitor and Y/N is about to get up to care for the child in need, yet the wails stop and this gets her running out of the room. She hears the floorboards creak and a male voice she recognizes comes from Mila’s room.

"Au clair de la lune,

Mon ami Pierrot,

Prête-moi ta plume

Pour écrire un mot.”

She peeks into the room to find Drew holding Mila, who is only wearing a diaper, against his bare chest. He is quietly singing into her ear and swaying in the spot where he stands. Y/N steps forward, the floorboard announcing her entrance. He freezes and turns towards his wife. “Hey, you should be asleep,” he whispers, walking close to her. She wraps her arms around his waist from the front and nuzzles her head beside Mila’s, “I was and then this little one got fussy. It seems like I was missing the party though. I must say that it is very rude of you not to invite me.” He chuckles. “I’m sorry, your invitation must have gotten lost in the mail,” he jokes. The two of them don’t exchange any other words; instead, they spend the night cuddling in their own little party with their little family.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff

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nhularin · 8 months

Text

1 STEP FORWARD, 3 STEPS BACK

PAIRING bf! jay x reader GENRE toxic! relationship, angst no comfort WARNINGS insecurities,there might be some grammar mistakes WC 0.9k series masterlist

December 12, 2001

"so, how was your day?"

you looked at him, your voice soft as you asked. you and your boyfriend sat in his car, the air thick with tension. but jays response was anything but kind. his eyes narrowed as he looked straight ahead of the road, his voice filled with bitterness. "fine" he spit out and silence fell upon you once again

no, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?

the tone of his voice made you recoil, your heart sinking. it was a typical thursday night and you haven't seen each other outside of school in what felt like forever. you had only wanted to check up on him, to show him that you cared about his well being. but his words sliced through you like a dagger, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

"thats great!" you tried to sound cheerful, but your voice betrayed you when those words came out quieter and wobblier than expected. you looked outside of the passenger seat's window, attempting to ignore the unbearable silence in the car. you could hear the joy and euphoria from passing cars and you couldn't help but feel jealousy radiating through you

All I did was speak normally, somehow I still struck a nerve

"why are you always so sensitive?" jay continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "you make everything about yourself. cant you see that I have my own problems to deal with?"

jay could feel your discomfort, he had to. hell, the passing cars could probably feel it "dont be like this" he said, sighing heavily "why do you always ask me that? you saw me at school. did you see me crying? no. so dont ask obvious shit when you already know the answer."

your eyes welled up with tears, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I just-" you paused, feeling your throat close up "we haven't hung out in a while and i just wanted to make sure that you were fine"

jay scoffed, his anger intensifying. "you think you can solve all my problems with a simple question? youre so naive. you don't understand anything. fine, coach Madson was a fucking asshole today but i knew you wouldn't understand. isnt a simple 'fine' enough? all you know is how to break out in song and dance with your theater friends"

im the love of your life until I make you mad

your heart shattered as his words echoed in your mind. you had hoped for a moment of connection, a chance to offer support. but instead, you found yourself facing his anger, his frustration, and his complete lack of empathy.

you longed for affection, for those sweet words of love to fall from his lips. but instead, you were met with a wall of unpredictability. one moment, he would hold your hand and make you feel like the most special person in the world. the next, he would push you away, leaving you wondering where you went wrong.

every little thing you did seemed to set him off, like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. his anger was swift and cutting, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. it was a rollercoaster of emotions, and you couldn't help but question if he truly loved you.

jays grip on the wheel tightened even further as you reached a familiar intersection. the red light seemed to mock your mess of a relationship, the halted traffic mirroring your damaged connection.

as the light turned green, he pressed down on the gas pedal, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. the car lurched forward, the engine roaring, but the noise was nothing compared to the deafening silence between you two. the streets blurred as you sped through the night.

in that moment, you realized that jay wasn't capable of providing the love and understanding you have craved. he was a storm of emotions and absolutely unpredictable, lashing out at anyone who dared to get close.

on your late night drives, you would often find yourself bracing for impact. would jay walk you home, or would he send you home crying again? it was a cruel game of chance, and you were trapped in its endless cycle.

"look" he sighed "im sorry for lashing out, im just stressed with-" he paused longer than expected "practice, AP calc, everything, okay? its nothing personal"

his apology didnt change the storm of emotions forming inside you but you tried to tame it as best as possible, trying to look unbothered by his constant outbursts of hatred.

when did it all go wrong? you have known him since forever, his toothy grin and messed up bangs permanently engraved in your head. you managed to form an awkward smile "its okay" its always okay, as long as you were with him

do you love me, want me, hate me?

finally, you arrived at your house, and jay pulled over. the quiet and calm suburb contrasting the chaos in your head. the car idled, the engine still rumbling.

there was a moment of silence, a moment where the weight of your emotions hung in the air. and then, without another word, jay reached over and opened the car door. his gesture made you feel giddy and hope filled your heart. as you stepped out, you gave him your biggest smile

"ill see you tomorrow, text me, okay? i love you"

he didnt say it back nor did he message you that night

no, I don't understand

PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg

SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1

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catboyieejeno · 1 year

Text

"Let him look,"

pairings: bf! yuta x afab! reader summary: The boys invite you and Yuta on a trip for Mark's birthday, but when Jaehyun makes a few too many plays at you, Yuta reminds you that you belong to him. contents: established relationship, pining, slight fluff, angst, jealous sex, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial, praising/praise kink, switch! yuta (i know, what a surprise, but trust me on this), minors dni count: 6.6k

"What do you think? Black or Red?" You hold up your two options for swim wear, dangling the pieces on either one of your index fingers.

Yuta looks up from his phone and at you, immediately locking it and putting it aside, suddenly very interested in the topic of your debate. He squints his eyes and furrows his brow in thought, trying to picture your body in each one. Although he has a crystal clear image in his mind paired with his choice of preference, he instead huffs, opting for a cheeky response.

"I don't know, I think you'll have to try them on," he smirks with a shrug.

"First of all, you've seen me in both of these," you scoff, giving him a playful glare as your hands fall to your hips, "and second of all, we're already running late. You're not even ready, and at this point, we'll get there after Mark does,"

Last week, a few of the boys invited the two of you on a weekend-long trip to the coast for Mark's birthday. Since they were on break from schedules and practices for the next two months, this would be the perfect getaway trip to celebrate their much needed hiatus and their friend's birthday, all in one.

Mark is one of the members you are closest to; In fact, he’s the one that introduced you to Yuta and the rest of the guys. Naturally, Johnny insisted that you had to go with them and accompany Yuta.

The two of you have your own room with an infinity pool and deck awaiting your arrival.

It had been forever since the two of you had gone on a vacation alone, with all the promotions the group had to do recently, and the mere thought had been giving you butterflies ever since the plan came to be. Sure, you have Yuta all to yourself often, for days at a time, but to have him alone in a luxurious hotel room has your mind spinning.

“Fine,” he sighs, sliding to the edge of the bed, hands pulling you in at your waist. His mouth connects to the skin of your stomach, exposed under the brim of the short top you’re wearing, while his eyes looked up at yours the whole time, “wear the black one,” he mumbles between kisses, “makes you look sexier.”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks and you run a hand through his long hair, sighing audibly. “Finish packing,” you insist.

Yuta rolls his eyes but obliges nonetheless, getting up to put the last of his clothes and toiletries in his bag. Johnny had let you both know he’d be there in the next 20 minutes, but the by the look of your bedroom and the mess of clothes that scattered every surface, he might just leave you two behind.

You and Yuta pack quickly and quietly, other than the one or two times you remind each other to take something you otherwise might’ve forgotten. When all your bags are zipped up and waiting with their owners by the door, a honk from outside paired with two or three texts to Yuta’s phone let you know your ride is here.

It’s a warm day outside, your favorite kind of day. Suddenly feeling excited, you get in the car while Yuta accommodates your belongings in the trunk. Biding hello to everyone and rambling about how highly you were anticipating the trip, you take your seat in the middle next to your boyfriend and beside Haechan.

Jaehyun sits at the passenger side, arguing with Johnny, who is driving, the whole way to the resort about which turn to make or what street to go down. Initially, it's rather amusing to watch them quarrel, but around the third time that Johnny takes the wrong exit, all of you realize you might actually never get to your destination.

This back and forth between the boys lasts until Haechan urges that they pull over, letting him direct instead, having grown far too annoyed with the bickering.

“Taeyong, Jungwoo, Doyoung, Taeil and Mark will have all turned 40 by the time we get there if we’re going at this pace,” Haechan snaps, tapping Jaehyun’s shoulder, “switch with me.”

Johnny laughs, turning the wheel and parking the car on the side of the road. There, the two boys switch, Jaehyun taking Haechan’s old spot beside you. As he sits, he offers you a warm, dimpled smile.

—

After a much smoother navigation (thank you, Haechan), the five of you manage to make it to the hotel, somehow beating the other boys which earns your group time to set up and settle in.

Everyone splits into their rooms, agreeing to meet up by the private pool after dropping off all the luggage and changing, at which time Mark would have arrived and the birthday shenanigans could commence.

The hotel is large, walls painted in a bone color with a blue trim. It’s clean and filled with plants and fountains, giving the impression of an outdoor space.

Yuta leads you through the lobby and up into your suite by the hand, tapping in the key card. As soon as the door shuts with a click, he drops the stuff on the bed and turns around to face you.

“Come ‘ere” he whispers, opening his arms.

You tilt your head defiantly and walk over to him at a torturously slow pace, which you know well enough that Yuta has no patience for. It takes him no more than a second before he reaches out for you and pulls you close until the two of you are chest to chest. His lips press against yours, gently at first, hands finding their way to your hair, then down your arms until they happily situate themselves at your hips.

The kiss quickly becomes a little more feverish, eager. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep steady, unable to resist mewling into his mouth as he breaths into yours.

"Mmph, baby," you mumble against his lips, "We have to-"

"I know, I know," he nods, pulling away for a second to look at your face, "But we're on vacation," he reminds you, "Mark isn't here yet, we can spare a few minutes,"

Deciding he's right, you use one hand to push him back and onto the edge of the king-sized bed, taking a seat on his lap. He grins at the prospect of you finally giving in, and leans back momentarily to look you up and down. He takes in your figure as if he’s never seen it before.

A groan rumbles in his throat at the sight of your breasts that sit tightly underneath the material of your shirt and he desperately dives for your neck, leaving slow, wet kisses along your sensitive skin. He stalls there for a moment, then trails his lips to your shoulder blades and back down toward your chest. His hands slide up your stomach and under your shirt until they each grab one of your boobs.

"I can't believe I have you all to myself in this huge room. God," he pauses, "the things I'm gonna do to you,"

You smirk, but it doesn't distract him from catching the redness that appears on your face at the direct nature of his statement.

Immediately, his pants feel significantly tighter; Yuta knows how bold and shamelessly needy you are in bed, never afraid to tell him how good he makes you feel or what you want him to do next. Nevertheless, it is always a turn on for him to see you crumble at just his words.

Reaching a hand up to hold his jaw, you bring his face closer to yours and your lips make contact again. He hums against your mouth, bucking his hips up subconsciously. In response, you roll your own down to meet him halfway, relishing in the much needed friction between your legs. The smacking sound of your open mouthed kisses and the panting that came with it were the only sounds in the room, with the exception of a few moans that couldn't be suppressed by either of you.

Until now; a knock on the door makes the two of you break apart, a very annoyed expression replacing the previously lustful one on your boyfriend's face.

"What?" He calls.

"Mark's here, Taeyong just told me they're parking," Johnny responds, voice slightly muffled behind the door.

You and Yuta look at each other and you laugh at his flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“Alright, going!” he grumbles.

"We'll continue this later, baby boy," you move to get off of him, but not without letting your hand brush along his semi-hard crotch, "you’re lucky those swim trunks are loose,"

"Very funny," He scoffs, pressing a light smack to your ass as you turn around and head for your bag, pulling out the black bikini he had picked out for you at home.

You begin to slide off your shorts, taking your precious time since you know he's still watching. Through the reflection of the mirror, your vision follows his right hand as it squeezes his clothed dick, lip caught between his teeth and eyes narrowed, anticipating your every move. Your shirt is soon discarded too, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments.

Now, you can take your bra off on your own, but it’s just too easy to tease him.

"Help me?" You mumble with a pout, walking over and turning your back to him, letting your left hand brush your hair over your shoulder, exposing the clasp of your bra to him. As if that wasn’t enough, you sit between his legs, pressing the curve of your ass right on his lap, making him grunt.

He easily undoes your bra, fighting the urge to flip you over and fuck you right here as he presses your face into the pillows, not caring that everyone else is waiting for the two of you downstairs. But instead, he decides he’d rather wait. If you want to to keep being a tease, that’s fine by him.

He knows you have plenty of self control, but he also knows he has more; and so, he’ll let you continue your little game, knowing that at the end of the night, you’ll be begging and crying for him to fuck you.

Newly encouraged and eager to see his plan play out, Yuta slides out from behind you and walks over to the bathroom, leaving you alone, practically naked in the main room and unable to torture him further. As you huff and slip on your bikini in defeat, Yuta rests his arm against the closed bathroom door, readjusting his bulge so that it’s less visible. He does this only after pumping himself into his hand a few times pretending it was you, unable to resist the vividness of his imagination; however, he quickly stops for two reasons: if he keeps going, he’d be fully hard and unable to hide his erection from his friends. That, and Mark had actually gotten here now, and there was more than just sex planned for this weekend.

When he comes back out, you’re sitting pretty on a chair out in the deck, shades on your eyes, your black bikini hidden under a matching black cover up.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments, a beaming smile appearing on your face as you see him approaching, “Let’s go downstairs, yeah?”

You eagerly nod, and the two of you go downstairs to meet up with the rest of the boys.

The private pool they rented out was full of inflatables and water guns, and you almost forgot you were at an adult’s birthday party until you saw the nearby bar full of drinks of all colors being served by two bartenders.

All of the members are already gathered around the pool. The boys that had ridden in the car with you had already gotten in it seems, an obvious tell being their wet hair that sticks to their foreheads.

Mark, who still seems to be taking in the surprise, gets a bright blue drink shoved in his hand, “Yo, what is all this?”

“Start drinking, birthday boy, you have a long way to go before you catch up to us,” Johnny laughs, turning to face you and Yuta, “You two grab a drink, too, It’s about time you made it down here,”

Mark notices your presence and immediately pulls his drink away from his lips, almost choking in the process, “You came?”

“Of course I came, Mark Lee. You thought I’d miss your birthday?” The boy laughed and gave you a side hug, other hand grabbing Yuta’s to clap him up, “Let me get a drink, I can’t let you sip alone,” you insist.

“I’m gonna go set this down, yeah?” Yuta gestures at the tote bag slung over his shoulder that you packed with sunscreen and towels. You nod in acknowledgement and walk over to the bar where a bright pink drink catches your eye. From his seat on a lounge chair, Yuta takes off his tank top and starts applying sunscreen. To his right is a table where Haechan, Jungwoo and Jaehyun were setting up beer pong.

“You wanna get in with me?” Yuta asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You shake your head.

“I’m not hot enough yet,” you explain, “In a little,”

He nods and leaves one more kiss on your cheek, then disappears behind you and toward the pool.

“We’re gonna play beer pong, you wanna join?” You look up at Jaehyun, debating your options. He furrows his brows at the hesitance on your features, “Come on, I don’t have a partner,”

Sighing in defeat, you hold out a finger at the red solo cups Jungwoo was filling with the fizzy yellow liquid, “Alright, fine. But I don’t like beer. If they score, I’ll sip from my drink,”

“Don’t worry,” Jaehyun smiles, “I’ll drink for you,”

“It’s me and Jungwoo versus you and Jaehyun,” Haechan nods.

“Alright, alright. Give me a second.” Placing your drink down on the table by the rest of your things, you slip off your cover up and sandals, pulling your sunglasses down to your eyes from where they sit on your head. Reclaiming your drink and taking a generous sip, you walk back over.

It’s your turn first. You lean down, lining up the little white ball encased in your fingers with the cups on the other side of the table.

You’re too concentrated on your shot to notice, but Yuta, stood in the fresh, cool water of the pool, had been watching you ever since you took off the sheer cover up. His eyes trail your body, studying the way the impossibly small triangles of fabric hug your breasts and push them together, or the way your ass perks up, thanks to the way you’re arching your back trying to play.

He watches, amused, until he notices one small detail: he isn’t the only one checking you out.

With his hands on his waist, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, Jaehyun’s eyes look you up and down watching as you make your shot and score.

Instantly, Yuta’s jaw clenches tightly, but something Taeyong says momentarily takes his attention off of what he’s witnessing. As soon as he answers his friend though, his eyes are right back on you, warily watching your interaction.

Your ball lands into one of the cups at the front row, earning you a high-five from your partner.

Jaehyun’s turn is next. “Blow on it for good luck,” he whispers, holding the ball up to your lips. You blow softly, breaking into laughter halfway through, “if I make this, it’s all thanks to you,”

“Hurry up and throw it already,” Haechan whines, waving his arm around.

Jaehyun gives you a playful wink and tosses the ball. It lands in a cup.

“Dude, no way you guys are beating us,” you gloat. You rest your elbow on Jaehyun’s shoulder, putting on a cocky look as you watch the boys on the other side grab the cups and down their drinks.

“Yeah, yeah, watch this.” Jungwoo shoots and makes it, but Haechan misses, taking a few seconds to wallow and recover his pride.

You pick up the cup, about to drink the disgusting beer inside, when Jaehyun stops you, taking the solo cup from your hand. “Sip from your drink, I promised you I’d have the beer.”

And so, the game continues: you and Jaehyun score mercilessly, leaving the two other boys trying to negotiate a rule change or argue about who has drank more between the two of them. Before every toss of his ball, Jaehyun would insist you blow on it, claiming you were his good luck charm. This didn’t sit well with Yuta, who had started making his way over to you. There was only one cup left on Jungwoo and Haechan’s side and it was your turn.

“Baby,” Yuta calls. You turn around, pulling your shades up to see him better. “Let me put some sunscreen on you,” he suggests, “Your cheeks are getting red,”

“We’re about to win-“ Jaehyun tries, but you hand him the ball.

“It’s alright, you got this. Take my shot for me.” You toss him the ball and he holds it up like he's done for the previous rounds.

“Let’s make sure this goes in, yeah?” As he waits for you to blow, Yuta’s annoyance gets the better of him and he grabs the ball, throwing and making it in from where he stood behind you to finish the game. The two losers start going on about how that was cheating, but Jaehyun doesn’t bat an eye, not truly catching on to Yuta’s hidden distaste for the way he was interacting with his girlfriend.

“Princess, come here,” he straddles the lounge chair, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen and gesturing for you to sit, which you do, crisscross between his legs with your back facing his chest. His hands rub the lotion onto your neck, shoulders and thighs, massaging your muscles in the process. Your head falls back on his shoulder.

“That feels nice,” you mumble lazily, turning your face to leave some kisses on his neck. His skin felt cold, no doubt reflecting the temperature of the water.

“Mmm.” He hums, “How much have you drank?”

“Just the one. I’m gonna grab another now,” you reply. Your hands overlap his, helping him spread the sunblock along your thighs. You felt him squeeze every so often, making you chuckle to yourself.

“Don’t play beer pong anymore,” he mumbles, “Get in the water with me,”

“I will, as soon as this soaks in. I’ll put my feet in for now,”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“Yuta!” Mark shouts, waving him down from the pool, “Volleyball!”

“Maybe later, Mark-“

“You can’t say no! It’s my birthday.”

"Your birthday's tomorrow." He argues back.

You laugh at them, nudging your boyfriend, “Go, make him happy. I can finish applying it on my face.”

“Alright, baby.” He leaves you with a peck on the lips, going over to the water and immediately splashing Mark as soon he gets in.

You put some sunscreen on your hands, rubbing it together and spreading it across your chest and stomach. The sun felt warm on your skin, and you could tell Yuta was right about your cheeks being red because they were hot under the pads of your fingers. You covered your face in the protectant, then opened your eyes as you notice the darkness behind your lid. A tall figure stands in front of you, blocking the sun.

“I noticed you drank all of your drink during the game so, I got you another,” Jaehyun extends his arm, holding out a yellow drink with a pineapple wedge on it. You thank him, wiping your hands on the towel to get rid of the extra product and taking it. He presses his own glass against yours as a cheers and the two of you take a sip.

“Mm, this one’s really good,” You claim, “I think I like it more than the pink one,”

“Mine’s good, too. You wanna try it?”

You and Jaehyun switch drinks and try each other’s. As soon as the sour taste of the kiwi hits your tongue, you huff.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Yours is better.”

“Have it,” he grins. You immediately shake your head, handing it back to him.

“No, no. It’s yours, here,”

“Seriously, it’s okay. I like the pineapple one more.”

“You’re just saying that,” you shake your head again.

“I promise,”

Giving him a doubtful look, you sigh, “Fine.”

“You gonna get in?” He asks you, tilting his head toward the pool.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod, getting up as you remember you promised Yuta that you’d join him in the water. Your sunscreen has to have absorbed by now, so it should be fine to get in. You leave your shades on the chair, standing up fully. As you’re about to walk past Jaehyun, he stops you by grabbing your forearm softly.

“Wait, you have, uhm-“ His hand comes up, “Here,” he uses his thumb to swipe away a streak of white sunscreen on your cheek, “There you go,”

“Oh, um… Thank you.”

You sit by the edge of the pool, slipping your feet in and shuddering at the temperature of the water. Your eyes search for Yuta among the members playing volleyball but you don’t find him there. Instead, he’s leaning against the side of the pool. You wave him over, oblivious to the daggers he’s glaring your way, but he doesn’t budge.

Jaehyun sits beside you, reaching down and scooping up some water with his hand, splashing you.

“It’s cold!” You complain, squeezing your eyes shut.

“It feels better once you go in, come on.” He encourages, jumping in so the water is at his waist. It splashes you and you shriek, holding an arm up. He grabs your drink from your grip, setting it down beside you, then pulls you into the pool.

“Oh, my god. It’s freezing,” You gasp, “holy shit.”

“But it feels good, right?” He laughs.

Unbeknownst to you and Jaehyun, Yuta had been watching your entire conversation from a distance. He scoffs, beyond tired of all the drink-sharing, giggling, and skin ship going on between the two of you. His face is growing hotter by the second as he watches the way Jaehyun keeps glancing down at your exposed chest, breasts glistening and bouncing on the surface of the water. His teeth are starting to hurt from the way he’s been gritting them together.

“Fuck this,” he mutters to himself.

He pulls himself out of the water, walking past the two of you and towards his towel to dry off. This catches your attention and your head spins around as you call for him.

“Babe?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He probably just went to get a drink-“ You ignore Jaehyun, knowing that something was wrong and pull yourself out of the water, too.

“Yuta, stop.” You try again.

When you’re both out of sight from the rest of the members, he finally turns around, seething.

“Yuta-“

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you having fun?”

“What?”

“Forget it,” he scoffs. “If you wanna talk, we can talk in the room, not here,” He snaps, glancing behind you at Taeil who was approaching, fetching the volleyball that had flown out of the water, completely unaware of the conversation happening between you and Yuta.

“Okay,” you breathe, “yeah.”

You follow him up to the suite in silence; the air is tense and heavy, almost radiating with the anger Yuta is feeling. He opens the door and throws his towel to the side, running a hand through his hair. Still, he doesn’t say anything until you speak first.

“Yuta,”

“What the fuck was that, huh?” He spits, arm gesturing toward the pool.

“What was what? What are you talking about?” You ask, genuinely bewildered.

“God, you’re fucking dense.”

“Excuse me?” You snap, eyes narrowing.

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t notice the way Jaehyun was eye-fucking you the whole day?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Yuta? He wasn’t eye-fucking me, he was just-“

“What? Being nice? Grabbing you a drink is being nice? Caressing your cheek and pulling you into the water by your waist so he can stare at your chest is being nice?” He rambles, raising his voice, “Insisting you blow on the ping-pong ball as if that has any fucking effect whatsoever on how-“

“First of all,” you snap, holding a finger up. “You don’t have to yell. Ever.” You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady, “and you don’t get to call me dense.”

His eyes soften slightly, but you can still see the anger tainting his features. His voice, however, is now significantly lower, in both volume and tone, “I spent the whole day trying to get you to go in the water with me and spend time with me and where were you? Playing beer pong with Jaehyun. Lounging and sharing drinks with Jaehyun. The only reason you went in at all was because Jaehyun carried you in. He was flirting with you in front of my face.”

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “It didn’t seem like that was his intention and if it was, then I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I hope you know,” you reach for his hand and he lets you, “that if I even suspected it was like that, I would’ve put a stop to it.”

He sighs begrudgingly.

“Do you not believe me? You don’t trust that I would?”

“I trust you, I do.” he admits, “But it’s hard to believe that you didn’t notice the way he was looking you.”

“Let him look,” you grab both of Yuta’s hands, wrapping them around yourself, “He’s only fooling himself.”

You can tell he’s still very upset by the way he casts his eyes at the ground, but his arms pull you in anyway, shoulders relaxing under your hands as you rub them.

“I love you, okay?" He finally looks up at you, "I’m sorry I didn’t catch on. And in all fairness, if that was you and another girl, I’d be fucking mad, too,” His eyes look between yours, and he sees the genuineness of your words and your apology.

“I’m all yours, baby." you continue, "He can look all he wants; that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the only person that I want to touch me and look at me that way," You bring his hand down to your ass and his hand squeezes the skin instinctively.

“I’m still kinda mad,” he warns.

“That’s okay.”

“I should be fucking furious,”

“Mhm,” you hum against his neck, teeth grazing the skin there.

He lets out a hiss at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he swallows thickly, “You do look good in that bathing suit,”

“What, this?” You ask, leaning back so he can look at you. Your hands hold your breasts, squeezing them, “Is this what he was staring at?”

He gives you a slight look of warning that tells you not to push it, but you know very well what you’re doing and just how far to take it.

You shake your head, “That’s too bad,”

“What is?” Yuta asks.

“That he can’t ever see them like this,” you single-handedly reach behind you and pull at the string tied around your neck, letting the material fall and expose your breasts, full and round and perfect, displayed for your boyfriend's hungry eyes.

“Fuck,”

“Sit back, baby,”

He scoots onto the edge of the bed, hands at your waist as you straddle him, giving him a perfect view of your boobs. One of his thumbs brushes over your nipple, the other hand going behind his head for support.

You take your time, leaning down and peppering open mouthed kisses on his torso, tongue dragging down his stomach until you reach his belly button ring where you stop and look up, watching his expression twist into lust through your lashes. His dick twitches at the sight before him, mouth hanging open.

“This is the best decision you’ve ever made,” You joke, kissing around the piercing. You tug at it with your teeth until he hisses, free hand grabbing at your hair to pull you up.

“Stop fucking teasing me, it’s all you’ve done all day.”

“Since you’re so mad, why don’t you show me? Show me how mad you get when your friends stare at me,”

In a mere second, Yuta flips you over, using your hair that twists around his right hand as leverage.

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

Even with your voice strained from the pain of your hair being tugged, you muster up a smart-ass reply, “Yeah, you know, I’d say I am rather funny somet-“

His left hand grabs your throat harshly, lips attaching themselves to yours to shut you up. “Take off your fucking bottom piece,” He says into your mouth, breath mixing with yours as you let out a strangled moan. Your hands work quickly to untie the remaining bikini piece, hips lifting to pull it off of yourself and toss it to the side. As soon as you do, he settles comfortably between your legs, grinding himself down into you.

“Oh, my God,” you breathe out, eyes rolling back at the direct friction against you.

“I’m gonna eat you out baby,” He tells you, “But you’re not gonna come,”

A whimper escapes your lips, but you don’t dare say anything or attempt to argue this time. You watch as he slides down your body, kissing every spot on the way down like you’d done to him just moments ago, leaving wet marks and streaks along your skin.

When his face is finally between your legs, you hike them up, resting your thighs on his shoulders. Mouth agape and eyes half open, you watch as he brings his thumb up to touch you, rubbing slowly.

“Mmm, Yuta,”

“I know, baby, I know.”

He licks up your folds, once, twice, then three times, lapping you up as many times as he deems necessary before finally attaching his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at your sensitive bud. At the overwhelming sensation, your eyes roll back.

You try to reach for his hair but he grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers with his, holding them at your side. Unable to help yourself, you roll your hips, grinding yourself against his tongue.

At your desperation, Yuta moans, the sound vibrating through your core. Every so often, he presses a kiss to you, then leans back to take in the sight of your glistening core. He looks at it as if he's been starved, and maybe he has with all your teasing earlier in the day. He's ravenous, mouth and tongue working against you wonderfully, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him.

"Yuta, oh, I'm gonna-"

"No," He interrupts, but doesn't stop what he's doing. He lets go of one of your hands, his index and middle finger slipping into you.

"Please, please let me-"

"No," he replies, tone much sharper this time, "I better not feel you come around me or so help me God, I'll leave you here like this,"

Knowing better than to question the sincerity of his threat, you take a deep breath, trying to suppress the feeling in your stomach that begs you to let go.

Yuta removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls down his own shorts. He had become too aroused while pleasuring you, and his dick was begging for any kind of stimulation. He pumps himself into his hand, using the precum that leaked from his red tip and your left over wetness on his fingers as lubrication.

"Let me help you," you whimper, squirming, "Please, I'll be good, just let me help you. I can't," a moan escapes your lips, "I can't take it anymore,"

For a second, he looks dangerous, as if he'll continue his merciless efforts, but he ultimately slows his tongue, settling for your compromise.

You pant, attempting to recover for a brief moment as he lays beside you on the bed, pulling his shorts all the way off.

"Baby," he calls. You turn to him, getting up on all fours. Your face is right by his cock awaiting his next command, one of your hands wrapping around the base of it. Yuta sits up for a second, grabbing you by the back of your neck to bring you in for the most sensual kiss you've shared in a while. It's messy and needy, but simultaneously slow and drawn out. He's savoring you and the fact that you're his.

His tongue swipes at yours, and you can taste yourself in his mouth, moaning at the lewdness of the situation. As he pulls away, you look into his eyes, waiting for him to tell you what he wants.

"Suck me off slowly. I don't wanna come before I've been inside you."

Nodding obediently, you do just that. Your soft, swollen lips place a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock and you drag them down, taking your time as he requested. Eventually, you replace them with your tongue, making sure to get him all wet so your hand will be able to slide on his length with ease.

"You're so fucking hot," he praises, letting both of his hands rest behind his head.

Part of you wants to be good and please him the way he asked of you, but the ache between your legs reminds you of the way he left you hanging no more than five minutes ago. Even now, you feel like you're so close; like if you just used your imagination and clenched around nothing, you'd reach your orgasm.

Hence, you conclude that returning the favor wouldn't hurt, right?

You take him fully into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. Involuntarily, you swallow around him and Yuta hisses, hips bucking up. Wasting no time, you start bobbing up and down on his dick, letting him all the way in each time. Your pretty eyes are watering but you remain, still looking at him, loving the way his face contorts into pleasure.

Your lips come off of him with a pop and a string of saliva is the only thing left behind. You use your hand to stroke him, taking extra care to squeeze at the tip.

"Mmm, don't stop,"

"Or what?" You provoke, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear as you slow the motion of your wrist.

He sucks in a sharp breath, lifting his hips to meet your speed, "Please, don't stop," he whispers, looking down at you.

"You want me to use my mouth again, baby?"

He quickly nods, reaching out to hold your jaw and draw it near his swollen tip again. You let him guide you as you wrap your lips around him, sucking and licking until he can no longer suppress his groans.

"Okay, okay," his hand goes to pull you up, but you resist, feeling him twitch, "If you-fuck, if you keep going m'gonna come,"

With a gasp, desperate to replenish the lost oxygen in your lungs, you take him out of your mouth, both of your chests heaving.

"Was that good?" You ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"So fucking good."

"Good enough that you'll let me come now?"

He laughs at how direct you are, pulling you on top of him, "I'd like nothing more, beautiful."

Lining yourself up with his dick, you slowly sink down, head falling back at the way he fills you up. Yuta sits up and wraps his arms around your waist, using his hands to help you guide your hips. He moves you slowly at first, giving you time to adjust.

Even though he's being gentle, you're still so sensitive from earlier that your walls instantly clench around him. Consequently, his teeth dig into your shoulder as he tries not to come, grabbing your hips and lifting you until the only part of him that's in you is his tip.

"Yuta, stop teasing," You whine breathlessly.

"Am I in?"

You nod, "Yeah?"

"Then I ain't teasing,"

He slams you down until that he's so deep inside you that you gasp, then quickens his pace.

There were no words to describe how good and full you felt, finally getting to do what you both were looking forward to all day. He hisses every time you tighten around him, your walls so narrow that you were practically milking him.

Having you face him as he fucked you was his favorite way because like this, he could see your fucked out expression the entire time he pumped in and out of you. He could study which movement of his hips made your eyes roll back or your lips part. He could watch you fall apart, all because of him.

"That's so good, Oh, my-"

He lets out a throaty groan,"You're so fucking tight,"

When he feels your movements falter and notices your breath hitch in your throat, he knows you're close. Bucking his hips up, Yuta helps you ride out your orgasm, brushing your hair back with one hand so he can still see your features.

"Yuta, I-"

"Shh," he coos, "I know, baby. Come for me, you're doing so good,"

At the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, his head collapses onto your shoulder. He nuzzles his face there, biting his lip and praying he can hold off his own orgasm until you've finished enjoying yours.

But it's so, so hard. With the way you're panting in his ear, squeaking out little words and praises that are unintelligible, nails clawing at his back, cunt squeezing him, he can't resist anymore. He comes inside of you with a shudder.

Even when he's overstimulated he keeps going until he's entirely sure you've come down from your high. Only then, does he pull out of you.

"Holy shit," you whimper.

"I love you," he reminds you, still short of breath.

You smile down at him, brushing away a sweaty strand of hair from his eyes. Your lips press down to his for a sweet kiss.

"I love you, too. So much."

"Let's clean you up, yeah? Stay here."

You nod as Yuta gets up, grabbing a white towel from the bathroom before returning to your side, gently spreading your legs and wiping you down.

"You wanna head back down to the pool?" you ask, turning to glance outside where the sun is no longer in the sky, "It's getting dark,"

"We have a pool right here." He reminds you, gesturing toward the infinity pool on the deck, "Besides," he starts, putting the towel of your mixed fluids in the bin, "I don't think I want Jaehyun seeing you in a bathing suit for the rest of the weekend."

You laugh, sitting up on the bed, "What about Mark? It's his birthday,"

"His birthday is tomorrow, not today."

"Okay," you nod, "Let's get in our pool,"

He hums and leans in, scooping you up into his arms and walking with you toward the door.

"Wait," you pull away, looking down at both of your naked bodies.

"What? You don't need a bathing suit for this pool,"

"Oh, is that right?" You giggle. Yuta nods, giving you another kiss and stepping down the pool steps, pulling you both into the water.

+.*·

requests r open :D

+.*·

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

mearps blurb request (she’s so underrated it’s criminal): mearps is super busy and focused (she gives off such boss wife energy c’mon) with football stuff, and comes home to her gf who has been super domestic and made their place really warm and cosy, cooked her favourite food, and just generally tried to look after her (I always say I’m super independent but for a hot footballer? it’d be wifey energy in an instant)

domestic bliss II m.earps

mary exhaled deeply as she parked up in the driveway after an excruciatingly long day.

she'd been up at the crack of dawn for fitness testing for the impending season, trained this morning and this afternoon with the team, met with her MAE27 team for a business lunch about the next upcoming launch inbetween on her break.

then had yet another business meeting with nike after her second training session about stocking her national keepers jersey which was nothing short of a draining back and forth argument, and had just wrapped up a zoom call with her agent which had gone an hour and a half overtime.

mary was forever grateful for her career and more than knew the privilege she held in her current position. but days like today she just felt pulled in a hundred directions, talked at rather than to, acting more like a robot than a human just to get by.

she had left the house not long after five this morning and was now returning at half past seven at night, her bones ached and her head was absolutely throbbing. mary could almost feel her heartbeat in her eyes and had seriously considered pulling over with how bleary her vision was driving home.

on top of that mary knew she had an insane list of life admin awaiting her once she stepped through her front door. she had a sink full of dishes to be washed, baskets of dirty laundry to be done as well as a mountain of clean clothes to be put away.

her bedroom looked like a bomb went off, clothes were scattered left right and centre from her early morning toss through her wardorbe to try and find her training gear. which of course she'd eventually sought out in her dirty washing basket, having to drown herself in perfume just to get by today.

the entire house needed vacuuming and tidying and her bathroom was crying out in desperation for a deep clean. mary having been away for the weekend to see her family had meant that again her two days off had been consumed by other people needing her, not what she needed.

she had dinner to be cooked and she needed to spend some time doing work to prepare for the upcoming week which was destined to be just as busy as today if not worse.

and to add yet another thorn in her side, you, her refuge and respite from the insanity of everything going on, were away for the entire week on a business trip.

mary was endlessly proud of you and especially for the promotion you'd recently earned, despite the added tasks and hours it meant.

still she couldn't stop herself from selfishly wish you were here, wanting to just melt into you as you whispered sweet nothings in her ear, showering her in the warmth and love that you forever and always indulged her with.

but you needed to accompany your boss for the week and mary knew how important it was that she was just as supportive of you and your career as you were of hers, she was nothing less than your number one fan and made sure you knew that every chance she had to prove it to you.

as much as she'd love nothing more than to order a takeaway and potato it out on the sofa mary knew that just wasn't an option and the more she put things off the longer and more overwhelming her to do list became.

so with a sharp inhale mary shut off the engine and unbuckled herself, mentally preparing for what was likely to be a grueling all nighter as she grabbed her kit bag from the back, which was filled with even more dirty laundry for the ever growing collection she was complaining as the days passed.

locking her car behind her mary trudged her way up the driveway, feet dragging along the cement as if weighed down by anchors until she eventually made it to the front door.

the woman had to withhold the urge to launch her keys across the front yard as she dropped them twice trying to fumble around and unlock the door, eventually shoving them in with a pained sigh, shouldering it open and stepping over the threshhold.

mary closed the door behind her and adjusted her kit bag on her shoulder, kicking off her trainers and frowning as she realised the once messy cubby of shoes was neatly organised, her shoes all stacked up neatly and in colour order.

the next thing that peaked her suspicion was the smell of lavender drifting around the house, as well as the music she now noticed coming from down the hall. following her nose marys eyes widened in shock as she slowly took in the spotless living room.

"oh hi love, sorry i didn't even hear you come in." mary let out a yell and spun around, dropping her bag to the ground as you watched on with an amused smile, cocking your head to the side as mary opened and closed her mouth in shock.

"you look like a goldfish." you quipped teasingly, taking a step closer toward her as mary firmly shook her head. "you're supposed to be in london." she managed to spit out, still trying to wrap her head around what was happening right now.

"when you called me yesterday i could hear how tired you were, i know this week is insane for you with the MAE27 drop and the ongoing contract negotiations, not to mention you taking the next step with nike and what that might mean for you if they try to pursue something legal-" you continued to make your way across the room toward her.

"-so i spoke with arthur and he agreed to let me come back early and work from home. i could work from the office but with everyone still in london for the conference there's really no point, I mean I might pop in a couple times but-" your words were cut off short as your girlfriend quickly closed the distance between you and engulfed you in a bone crushing hug.

you couldn't help but laugh as she picked you up off your feet, gripping you so tight you could swear you might have bruises from how her fingertips dug themselves into your skin as she held your body close to her own.

"so i made my way back here this morning. cleaned the house, did some work, caught you up on laundry, bought some groceries and made dinner. which you're just in time for!" you announced happily as she placed you back down on your feet.

grabbing your girlfriends hand you all but dragged her into the dining room, gently pushing her down into a seat, hands on her shoulders.

"try to relax baby, you're insanely tense." you spoke softly, squeezing her shoulders and kissing her cheek tenderly before hurrying off to the kitchen.

mary was still in a state of shock as you busied yourself dishing up, flittering around the kitchen as marys eyes wandered around the once messy home, so clean she probably could have eaten off any surface without a second thought.

craning her head to the side she peered into your shared bedroom, immediately noticing her mountain of clean laundry had suddenly disappeared, as had her wardrobe of clothes which once littered the floor this morning.

eyes drifting back to you she located the source of the gentle lavender which was wafting around the room, the diffuser you'd purchased a few months go expelling the fragrant floral scent into the air.

if there was one thing mary would associate you with, it was flowers.

you'd made it clear from the moment you'd met her how much they meant to you, forever admiring them with a soft loving gaze, fingers stroking the petals with the outmost care as if they were made from the most fragile of glass.

the older girl noticed you bought yourself a new bunch every week which would sit proudly on your coffee table in the early stages of your relationship before you'd moved in together.

so of course mary then made sure she bought you flowers every week, the radiant smile which would curl onto your face at the sweet gesture each time she handed them over making her heart flutter as you'd hold them so tenderly.

you looked to them as you would a newborn child, as if you could hurt them if handled too rough. after you’d carefully placed them in a vase pecking her lips at least four times, mumbling your gratitude as you did.

so of course it came as no surprise to mary to see you'd bought a fresh bunch of poppies which were sat in a vase on the table.

the simple gesture was the tipping point for the keeper as she felt her exhaustion finally come to a boil, tears welling up in her eyes.

"so i made your favorite but-" you hurried back with a plate piled high with food, though you quickly placed it down seeing the obvious pain in your girlfriends eyes.

"oh mary." your features softened as the thin line of tolerance the older girl had suddenly snapped, the tears carving their path down her flushed cheeks.

"why are you crying love?" you asked quietly with a concerned frown, your girlfriend wordlessly scooting her chair back and tugging you to straddle her lap, your hands coming to rest gently either side of her face as hers gripped at the back of your top.

your thumbs tenderly wiped away her tears as her fists balled your shirt, twisting the material tightly and pushing your body into hers, burying her face in your chest as you felt her tears dampen your shirt.

"oh baby." you sighed, arms moving to wrap around her neck, one hand cradling the back of her head as the other dipped down her shirt and traced soft circles on her back with your nails.

you recognized that she clearly needed to let this out as you held her tightly, whispering sweet words of affirmation in her ear as she slowly began to settle. "sorry about your shirt." the older girl sniffled, cracking a small smile as she pulled her head away, noticing the obvious tear stains on your shoulder.

"thats okay my love its yours anyway." you teased playfully, wiping a few stray tears from her crystal blue eyes and reaching behind you to grab a few tissues, handing them to mary as she blotted at her puffy red eyes.

"sorry i just-i was so drained today and i knew i had so much more to do when i got home and my day just seemed to drag on and on and on. then the last thing i expected was you to be here, let alone for you to have literally done everything because of course i'm hopeless. but i don't want you to feel like you have to do this and you have to take care of-" you cut her off as you gently placed a hand over her mouth.

"okay first of all. i don't feel like i have to take care of you, or i have to do anything for you. i did what i did because i love you ever so dearly and i want to look after you, i want you to feel cared for and supported and like you can come home after a shit day and just unwind. so please don't thank me, don't feel guilty, just know that i love you more than anything and you don't need to tackle everything alone." you spoke softly but your words held firm, mary stunned wordless at the overwhelming wave of emotions she felt for you, only nodding along.

"as much as i love what a business woman and a tough boss bitch you are, independence doesn't mean you have to do everything yourself. i'm here, let me take some of the load for you yeah?" you smiled tenderly, mary again nodding and pulling you into a hug, your lips resting lovingly on her forehead as she mumbled how much she adored you into your shoulder, affectionately kissing your collarbone and jawline before making her way to your lips.

"as much as i love kissing you, please eat before it gets cold." you gently pushed her away and stood to your feet, sliding her the plate of food as mary almost moaned at the sight of it, happily tucking in as you sat down beside her and did the same.

with her ongoing questions you filled her in on how the last few days you had been at the conference were, the blonde listening intently practically hanging off your every word and you melted at the obvious effort.

ignoring your protests that you could do it mary wasted no time shooing you out of the kitchen and into the shower, threatening to throw you over her shoulder and walk you into the bathroom herself unless you went willingly.

as you disappeared the older girl was quick with washing up everything from dinner, unable to wipe the smile off of her face at just how looked after and cared for she felt, wrapped up in the comfortable and cosy little bubble of domestic bliss you'd crafted for her oh so intricately.

drying her hands mary joined you in the living room where you took up her normal position as the big spoon, opening your arms and patting the space in between your legs with an alluring smile.

you let out a laugh as the taller girl practically belly flopped on top of you, peppering your face with sloppy kisses before settling in your arms.

you threw on her favorite movie which only softened her up more, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders as you began to massage out the tense knots of stress, pressing the occasional tender kiss to the back of her shoulder blade or below her ear.

the deeper you pushed the more relief flooded her body and mary couldn't help but let her eyes start to slowly flutter close, overcome by a tantalizing cocktail of both exhaustion and bliss.

and in that moment, wrapped up in your arms and smothered with your love and care, mary solemnly swore to herself, she'd make you her wife one day, and that day was going to come as soon as she possibly could make it.

#woso x reader #woso #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #man united

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euphoricfilter · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟔

attempt #1

tags/ warnings: games designer! jungkook || non-idol au || established relationship || fluff || small brain jk is making a reappearance he's just a little silly

word count: 1.1k

notes: no taglist!!!!!

☆ collaboration with @bonny-kookoo 💕 ☆

☆ series masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“Y/n—baby” Jungkook almost slips over as he speeds into the living room, corner of the rug curled up just enough for him to trip over.

His eyes catch onto you, sprawled across the couch, movie running on the TV. Because as much as he planned to spend every moment with you on this trip, there was only so many times he could ignore the calls from his boss before he was toeing the line of losing his job.

You find it in yourself to pull your eyes away from the television, “Hmm?” you blink over at him, neck craned uncomfortably.

“I packed you a fancy dress, right?” he rushes, foot tapping against the floor.

You simply look at him for a moment, mind slowly whirring back to life as you recount what had been put in your suitcase before the both of you left. Vague memory of a nice outfit being folded beneath a pile of clothes.

“I think so…” you start, watching as Jungkook stalks across the living room.

His hands wrap around your arms, lifting you off the couch with ease, “We need to get dressed then” his hands linger over your warn skin a little longer, fingertips acting like magnet as he has to drag himself away from you.

“What?” you breathe, stumbling behind him as he slithers back into the bedroom.

He’s quick to unzip his suitcase, neatly folded clothes thrown onto the chair as he looks for something.

“What’s happening” you stand beside your own suitcase, entirely confused as to what was happening. It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Jungkook to panic, mind always frazzled, and so you’ve taught yourself to figure out what exactly was going on inside his head before you chose to panic too.

“I booked a dinner at this restaurant—” he starts, throwing a suit onto the bed, “And I forgot It’s in less than an hour… and we’re not exactly dressed yet, and we need to drive there—”

“Jungkook” you call out his name.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, stray piece of underwear held in a tight fist as he swallows.

“Calm down” a gentle smile pulls onto your lips, “We have time. When’s the reservation?”

“6:30” he murmurs, shoulders losing that little bit of pent up tension.

“That’s enough time, okay?” you nod, “You can get ready before then, and so can I. You don’t need to panic”

“I know, it’s just—” he sighs, fingers tugging at his earrings, “I want this to be perfect. No, it needs to be perfect”

You step over your suitcase, crouching down beside him, “You’ve done a good job so far, so please stop stressing. It’s not good for you”

He presses his forehead against your shoulder, “I love you” he murmurs.

“Love you too” your fingers tangle into his hair, “Now get changed, or we really will be late”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“One picture, please baby” Jungkook whines as he pulls his bag from the back seat of the car.

“And what if we’re late?” you peer through the passenger side widow at the time of the dashboard, keys still running the car.

“It’ll only take a minute” the car door slamming shut echoes through the empty car park, “You look too pretty, I need to document this moment forever” he tells you, entirely serious as he looks at you from over the hood of the car.

You glance over at the restaurant on the other side of the street, then back over at Jungkook.

“One photo… maybe two but the second one has to be the both of us” you mumble, arms crossed over your chest.

He slips around the front of the car, fingers gentle as they skim down the length of your arms. He leans down, lips soft against your cheek as he whispers out his thanks, kiss lingering over your warm cheeks.

He thinks the dinner is perfect, entirely enamoured by everything you say as you talk over dinner. Warm unfiltered, raw, perfect love bubbling within his heart, so fully of you, loving you, wanting to worship the ground you walked on.

There’s something entirely magical about the moment in Jungkook’s mind, candle on the table reflected like starlight in your eyes, restaurant mellow enough that it felt like it was only the both of you there. The world yours just for this moment, even if only a couple of hours. He’s happy as he watches you eat, cheeks aching from smiling at you so much though it’s the good kind of ache that reminds him of why he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Let’s share dessert” you say as you look at the menu, “Or should we get one each and share both of them?” you run a finger over your bottom lip.

Jungkook’s eyes linger over your face, words barely registering in his mind before he’s telling you to order whatever you want.

“You’re not helping, Jungkook” you lay the menu flat on the table, “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want, baby” he pulls his chair a little closer to the table, wanting to be that little bit closer to you.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I want whatever you want”

“Liar” he chirps, “because I know for a fact there’s shit on that menu you wouldn’t even dream of eating, even if it is dessert”

“Touché” you pull the menu closer to you, “I want something you’ll like too”

“I like everything you like” he tells you.

“That’s not true”

He hums, “Name one thing you like that I don’t”

You pause for a moment, head tilting to look up at him, “What about…” you start, leaning back in your chair.

He opens his mouth, smug little smile on his face.

You stop him, “There definitely is something. Just give me time to think of it”

He laughs, head tipping back a little.

“While you think of that… and order dessert, I’m going to the bathroom” he pushes his chair back, leaning over the table to give you a gentle kiss before he’s slipping around tables towards the toilets, bag tucked under his arm.

And only once in the bathroom does he realise a flaw in his plan. He rummages through his bag, frantic as he sits on the toilet seat, feet tapping against the floor as he pulls everything out of his bag.

“Shit” he whispers.

He’d planned it out perfectly, ready to have the little velvety box tucked away in the pocket of his suit, ready to be yours as you walked along the beach. Secluded from the rest of the world because he knows not to ask you to be his in front of a crowd.

He feels the panic settle beneath his skin, contents of his bag emptied over his lap, velvet box nowhere to be seen. Likely still tucked away between his clothes where you wouldn’t be able to stumble across it.

He holds his head in his hands, a long drawn curse falling past his lips.

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed.

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow."

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment.

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's.

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway.

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield.

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires.

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood.

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation.

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets.

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you."

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged.

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly.

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit.

She wasn't sure who was winning.

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough.

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg.

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N.

The man backed up to the door on the ground.

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way.

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face.

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou imagine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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blingblong55 · 10 months

Text

To live without- 141 + Alejandro

Based on a request:

Hii can I make a request for some angst?? Maybe the reader having an argument with the TF 141 + Alejandro, inside the car or anywhere resulting to a break up?? Cause I'm a sucker for angst, thankss 🫶

F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, break-ups, cheating (not all)

A/N: This will be in 5 parts

Part 1 (John Price), Part 2, (Soap), Part 3 (Gaz), Part 4 (Alejandro)

It has been a stressful few months for him, between his job, you, his own safety and yours, let alone the current argument over his current state. It's why you and he are now in the car, having this argument.

Ghost:

Your breakup was the accumulation of months and months of distrust and his latest injury that got him 7 months off work. He started drinking, a lot more than his usual beer or two every other day. then his questions that suggested you must be cheating or that you are the enemy and of course, you understood the past mission was difficult on him. You knew from the start a man like him, a soldier with so many bad memories and so many betrayals was bound to have days where he couldn't and wouldn't trust you.

Lately, he has been worse, sleeping late, waking up early, smoking too much for your personal liking, becoming a heavy drinker and he now yells at you.

You had gone on a walk when he suddenly woke up, looked around your shared flat and the second he knew you weren't home, he drove to the only place where his drunk mind knew you'd be, the park. And just like expected, you were there, playing fetch with your dog.

"I knew you'd be here" his speech slurred. You were worried the instant you understood he was still somewhat drunk and the fact that you saw his truck. "Simon, you drove here?"

"Yes, I needed my beautiful girl."

"Simon, that isn't safe for you or anyone on the road-"

He pressed his index finger against your lips, trying to get you to shush up and you moved his hand away from your lips.

"This is so irresponsible of you, c'mon, let's get in the car," you start to walk, dog trailing along. "I'm driving," you add.

Once in the car, he sits in the passenger seat, "You're no fun, love"

"Life is fun, not ending it because you are an irresponsible drinker."

He scoffs, "Oh c'mon, don't act like you are perfect," he looks over at you as you start the car.

"And I'm not perfect, but you have to understand-"

"Yeah I fuckin' get it, I am an alcoholic and you are perfect-"

"Enough, Simon! I am tired of you drinking, yelling for no reason and being a prick to me all the time!" you snap

"If you weren't such a bother in my life I wouldn't be a drinker.." he comments. You can't even drive off because you are trying to contain such anger inside.

"Simon-"

"No, R/N, you act like I am a fuck up, I'm not my father...and I am not a fuck up, not to mention you treat me like a child ever since the injury."

"I never said you were any of those things and I only treat you with care, I want you to live a long life-"

"Yeah I've heard this so many times, Why don't you fuck off and leave my life for good."

That was his flaw, acting or speaking before thinking and now all is lost. It has been 3 months since you moved out, 1 month since he started to sober up and 2 months since he began to beg you for forgiveness. He has tried to gain the life he once had, the warm bed and the warm hugs and to be honest, he hasn't left the house much since the breakup, hates bars and pubs and hates knowing you aren't there to take him home. He has improved though, always hides the keys in new places before he starts to drink, walks anywhere, looks at both sides before crossing and as he does so, always thinks of you.

He can't take back what else he said in the car that evening and he will forever regret losing the one thing he loved the most. The one thing he has to live without.

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

Text

With you part 7

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Summary: Jake just kissed you. Will he let things change between you?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, (Marc Spector x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, kissing, cursing, crying. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."

Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"

You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.

You had expected something hard. Intense, possessive. Like Marc.

Or surprisingly, blisteringly seductive. Like Steven.

Jake was tender. And you fell apart in his arms.

Expecting a frantic shove up against the wall, you got, instead, arms cradling you like a treasure. He rocked you gently - gloved fingers winding behind your neck.

The searing heat of his tongue made your chest burn with longing. Realizing you had melted in his embrace, your own arms limp by your sides, you reached suddenly and desperately for his curls.

Knocking the cap off his head, you threaded your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to pull yourself upright, arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

Strong arms flexed against your back as he wrapped you up tighter, pulling his lips away for a moment and rubbing his nose against yours.

Unable to resist the heated temptation of your breath, he kissed you again, deeper this time - hungrier.

You were used to this body - accustomed to the response it ignited in you.

But, to Jake, you were all new. A wondrous discovery. He wanted to touch and feel you everywhere at once but the stupid bird was thundering in his head, sending a faint but definite breeze fluttering through the bedroom.

"Wait...mi vida," he panted against your parted lips, pushing you back by your shoulders. "I can't. I have to go"

Your entire world had changed in the span of a kiss - your heart, already so full of love for this system - dug down deeper to plant new roots for Jake to grow there. Forever was born anew in your soul, just like it had been when you met Steven...

...and he had to go?

"Jake," you gasped, undeterred by supernatural events around you, gripping his arms as if it might actually keep him with you. "Wait, please--"

"I know," he softly replied, touching his forehead to yours. "But people are in trouble. They need help."

Releasing you, he stepped back, reaching for his cap. "This is what I have to do. It's...the point of me."

"The point of you? Jake--"

"Yes," he answered firmly, pulling the flat cap over his curls before taking a few determined strides toward the door.

Pausing, he glanced back at you - breathtaking you, so adorable in your hoodie and joggers, peering at him so expectantly. "Imagine if no one was there to help you the other night, mi vida - what could have happened to you..."

You needed to accept this. The way you accepted Marc's sobriety journey or Steven applying to university. This was who Jake was and this was his choice. The stolen moments in his arms - the slight relief of the tension between you just now had granted you at least this clarity.

"I understand," you breathed, grateful that he at least tried to explain himself. "Just...be careful...okay?"

"Claro," he nodded, heading toward the front door.

"You don't use the window?" You teased, following after him, to sweetly see him off, rather than plead with him further.

Turning back, he jingled his keys in front of you with an amused smirk. "Marc gave me a key."

"Wow," you chuckled, impressed. "Be careful," you repeated. "I-I'll wait for you.

"No, mi amor." Jake shook his head, grasping your elbow the way he was prone to do. "Go to sleep. You have your shift tomorrow--"

"Okay," you conceded, feeling a secret thrill that he seemed to know your schedule. The warmth of possibility bloomed in your chest, making it easier for you to agree instead of firing back.

Seeming satisfied with your answer, he finally left.

You did wait.

You sat in Steven's favorite reading chair, which was conveniently located close to the front door.

You listened to the podcast again. Did a puzzle. Read for a bit. Drank another cup of coffee. Splashed your face with cold water. Five times.

But eventually, you fell asleep.

And that's where Jake found you a few hours later, when he entered through the front door (for a change).

Curled up in a ball, with your hands tucked cutely into the sleeves of Marc's hoodie, Jake just stared down at you for a moment. Tempted to leave you there to rest, he found he couldn't resist scooping you into his arms and carrying you to bed.

You barely roused as he lay you down gently and covered you with a blanket. Quickly changing out of his work clothes, he washed up before joining you.

After what happened between the two of you earlier, he was more tempted than ever to touch you somehow - to pull you close. But the body had already lost enough sleep tonight. Steven was going to be so tired for class in the morning.

He couldn't take anymore time away from them. Or you. That wasn't his purpose.

Feeling exhaustion pulling at the corners of his mind, he decided it was for the best - to give himself over to it, like always. You would have your fiancé in a few hours.

Then your alarm went off.

You woke up immediately, digging into the pocket of your hoodie to silence the intrusive noise. That's when you noticed your fiancé in bed with you.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry." Sitting up, your eyebrows gathered in confusion as you tried to figure out...

"What are you doing?" Jake sat up as well, his deep voice affirming that it was still him - that he had yet to fall asleep.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, rubbing your eyes. "I tried to stay awake, but - well, I set my alarm just in case."

"Just in case what? You have to be at the hospital in a few hours, mi vida."

"I know...and I'm not trying to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Softly sighing, you set your phone on the bedside table. "And I didn't know when I would see you again."

Shaking his head, Jake eased back onto his pillow. "That's how it's supposed to be. You have work. Steven has class. The rest of the time is Marc's. I can't take anything else from him."

It took you a minute to process everything Jake said.

"What?" You responded, the implications of what he'd just voiced astounding you. "You want Steven and me to get some rest - I get that. But what exactly are you taking from Marc?"

Lying down, you turned on your side to face Jake, who was staring up at the ceiling.

"Everything. His life. Time. And now you too? I can't," he exhaled shakily. "We can't. It's better the way it was."

Oh, game on.

"Better for whom? For you? Jake...I told you that the reason I stayed up and waited for you earlier was for two things - " You sat back up determinedly and counted the reasons off on your fingers. "One - to ask how you were doing - which I still haven't had a chance to do, and two - to tell you that if you don't want to ever talk to me, or see me, or be in my life, then to please just tell me."

"It's not what I want, mi corazón - it's what has to be - what always has been," Jake said insistently, sitting up in bed beside you, gesturing with his hands. "You don't understand how it works with us - how things have to be.

"Everything I do is to protect us - all of us, because Marc can't live without Steven. And he definitely can't live without you. ¿Entiendes?"

Raking his hands through his hair, he sighed in frustration. "I already fucked up, that night, in the alley, and then he started drinking again, and you were fighting, and it's because of me. I'm only supposed to make things better, not worse.

"And now, tonight, I shouldn't have done what I did, before. You-you don't belong to me." His chest heaved as he shook his head.

"I don't belong to anyone, Jake." Your voice was softer now, the ache in your heart prompting you to reach for his shoulder. "I choose to be with Marc, every day. And Steven."

Inching closer, you traced over his neck to cup his cheek, feeling his jaw clench under your fingertips. "I chose to wait up for you. I want to wait up for you, and to know you."

He physically withdrew from you then, turning his head away from your touch. And that hurt. Still...you couldn't force him to want to know you, despite how confused that intense, delicious kiss had left you.

Reaching for Jake's hand, you gently traced your fingers over his knuckles - only briefly, before pulling away, giving him the space he clearly wanted.

"Jake...all this must be so hard for you to bear. I can't even imagine. But you don't have to do everything all by yourself." Your lip trembled as you quickly started to realize this conversation was ending. You were both exhausted, and Jake was used to sleeping, or another alter fronting, by this point.

In one last bold attempt, you darted over to kiss the soft fabric over his shoulder.

"Remember that you have a family. And in families, you don't just do jobs, you matter." Lying down on your pillow, you felt warm tears drip down your face, but you tried to keep your voice from shaking. This was about him, not you. "You matter to me, Jake. Even if you can't love me. It's okay - I just want you to know you're not taking anything away from anyone. You only add more."

Jake could hear the sweet sound of your voice and his skin burned from your touch, but a void of impossibility engulfed him. He was so tired. It was so much work to operate in a way that contradicted his entire existence. It was easier to slip away, and before he could even think that he should respond to you...

Steven breathed your name in the dark.

Quickly turning your back to him, tears flooded your eyes. Biting your lip hard to keep your cries to yourself, you attempted to pretend to be asleep. Jake was right that both you and Steven needed some rest.

Your plan worked. Sleepily rolling over, Steven's face found your neck and he latched onto you in typical Koala Steven style. Thankfully he was too exhausted to feel you shudder in his embrace.

Finding comfort in your fiancé's tender, strong arms, you began to calm down. But after everything tonight, your mind raced as you re-evaluated your approach to Jake. Apparently you had done every single thing wrong. He was abundantly clear on his role in the system and what he wanted - or, in this case - didn't want from you.

Why were you fighting him so hard?

After a few minutes of sweet torment, you climbed back out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, you allowed your tears to flow a little more freely, easing down to the floor with your back against the door. Burying your face in your hands, you quietly sobbed, drenching the sleeves of Marc's hoodie.

It wasn't like you to cry very often, or to even operate at the whims of such a wild range of emotions. But as your soft gasps settled, and you leaned over on the bathroom floor, completely drained, you realized something.

If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.

That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.

Coming up: Marc finds you on the bathroom floor and freaks right the hell out. Will you see Jake again anytime soon?

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