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scuderiahoney · 10 days

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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5

Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words

Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury

It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.

“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.

Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”

“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”

George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.

Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”

“Not really?” He says, shrugging.

Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”

Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.

Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”

You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“

“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”

…..

The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.

Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.

You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”

Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.

An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.

After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.

“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.

He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.

…..

The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.

By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.

When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.

“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.

“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.

“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.

Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”

Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”

You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.

…..

Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.

“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”

Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”

“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”

Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.

“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”

Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.

He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”

You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.

“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”

Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.

Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.

You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.

The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”

You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”

Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”

You nod. “I’ll stay here!”

“Me too,” Oscar adds.

“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”

Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.

A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.

“This is really nice,” he says, softly.

The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”

Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”

He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.

“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.

There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.

…..

Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.

You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.

You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.

Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”

You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.

Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.

“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.

You nod. “Me too.”

His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-

Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?

“I…” he starts, then stops.

You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.

If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.

He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.

…..

The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.

He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.

Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.

There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.

One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.

When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.

He just eyes you carefully,

“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”

You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.

You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.

It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.

When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.

You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”

His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.

“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”

You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”

You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.

Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.

One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.

“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”

You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”

“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you murmur back.

Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.

…..

Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.

The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.

The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.

“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”

His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”

You shrug and wink. “Close second.”

He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.

“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.

You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”

He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”

You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”

He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”

And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.

You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.

“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.

Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”

“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.

When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.

You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.

When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.

“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.

“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”

He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.

“Promise?” You ask, quietly.

He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.

The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.

bunnyrabb1t

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others

bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever

landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(

oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb

landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream

lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!

bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘

alex_albon hey. back off 🤺

oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️

bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️

charles_leclerc 🤨

carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you

notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11

(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)

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missnxthingg · 3 months

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I KNOW PLACES ✮ LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x gf!reader (secret dating & childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris and (Y/N) just started their relationship after years being best friends, but they are afraid that making things public might ruin what they worked so hard to build (based on 'I Know Places' by Taylor Swift) words: 3.8K - warnings: a few swear words and pure fluff! author's notes: Back into the fanfiction world, this time stepping into my newest obsession: F1. I hope you enjoy this new era!

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

You stand with your hand on the waistline. It's a scene and we're all here in plain sight. I can hear them whisper as we pass by. It's a bad sign.

(Y/N) didn't know what was happening to her body. Maybe it was the hot weather in Monaco for the race weekend, or the small amount of breakfast she had before leaving the house. But every inch of her being was tingling, and it felt weird being under her skin. Out of all the times she had ever stepped into a Formula One paddock, this was the first one she ever felt like she was about to faint. After all, everyone was onto to find out her little secret.

Lando Norris, her best friend since she was only four, was at the McLaren garage when she arrived with all of his other friends. He was just doing his job; talking to sponsors and being the sunshine boy he has always been, making a good impression on people that needed to be impressed by him. But the conversation between Zac Brown and one of his team’s investors was long forgotten when his eyes spotted (Y/N) in the middle of the crowd.

She was simply walking alongside Max and his girlfriend, Pietra, when their eyes crossed in the paddock. Lando cracked the biggest smile and fixed his eyes on hers for a second, only to get his attention called by Zac again. He was soon dragged into the conversation again, only to be dismissed a few seconds later. Then, he played a whole scene, worthy of a goodman Oscar film.

The wind was blowing on his hair as he paraded towards her in the paddock, his curls moving beautifully with the pace. His hands were resting on his waistline, one of them sneaking under his McLaren shirt. She always thought he looked beautiful in his work attired, but damn it, this time Lando looked flawless in them. He had a soft smile resting on his lips and he could feel the heart beating out of his chest, wanting to jump onto (Y/N) from the second he saw her. Yet, he played it cool for the entire walk towards her. Nobody could know about them.

At that point, it had been three months and a couple of weeks since Lando and (Y/N) had finally got together after years of unconditional love and pinning after the other. They had met at a very early age, when their fathers used to golf at the same field every Saturday morning, and had been best friends ever since. After a while, they just couldn’t deny that their friendship had become something else, after years of her coming to all of his races in karting, F3 and, later on, F1. After all the times he rooted for her in university and had taken care of her when things got too rough. They just couldn’t deny they were in love with each other.

But Lando’s experiences with public relationships hadn’t been exactly… pleasant. So they both agree, after much talk, to keep it a secret from everyone to not ruin anything between them. This was too precious, and delicate, to have the bad energy bring them down right at the beginning of things. And ever since then, they had been so good at doing so. Yet, his fans had caught that something had shifted in the long term friendship. So now, they had to be very, extremely, careful.

“Took you too long”, he commented, shrugging as he stood right in front of (Y/N).

“Max was really enjoying the courtesy breakfast from the hotel”, she smiled at him, looking at his face right through her lashes. Lando just couldn’t help it, thinking she looked too cute, and he wrapped his arms around her, face burying in the crook of her neck.

“I’m glad you’re here”, he kept his voice low, only for her to hear it.

“Always”, she sneaked a kiss on his cheek before he moved onto talking to Max and Pietra.

Lando has showed affection for (Y/N) so many times before, with the hugs and tiny kisses here and there, but everybody knew it was different this time. Maybe it was the long starings or how they’d linger longer on the hugs. Or maybe it was him wanting to be around her every second he could. But the gossip social media pages and the whispers were getting louder. (Y/N) noticed it when they walked towards the McLaren motorhome, one of his hands soft resting in the middle of her back.

“Did you see that?” One girl whispered to her friend as she passed by, but (Y/N) couldn’t listen to the reply. All the whispers were deafening, and she wanted to scream. They weren’t a good sign.

Something happens when everybody finds out. See the vultures circling, dark clouds. Love’s a fragile little flame, it could burn out.

When Lando finally closed the doors to his driver room, (Y/N) felt the weight being lifted from her shoulders. She audibly sighed, and her boyfriend looked at her in worry. For a second, they looked at each other and laughed at their situation. They were damned.

“They are 100% onto us”, (Y/N) whined and Lando agreed with a nod, before pulling his girl for a hug. “Shit, we were doing so great with the hiding. I thought it was really going to last”.

“My fans should be hired as private investigators, I swear to God”, he joked before pulling her face up for a kiss. “Didn’t get a good morning one when I woke up”.

“Well, I can’t help it if you’re an early bird”, she giggled, leaving countless small pecks on his lips again. “I was tired from last night”.

“I finish you off just good, didn’t I?” He cheekily smirked before turning to his closet, pulling the fireproof undergarments he was required to wear before the suit.

“I didn’t need to know that”, Max commented as he opened the door and quickly was scoffed by Lando.

“Didn’t invite you to the conversation, mate. Get the fuck off my room!” Lando joked, but Max still found his spot on the couch. Pietra came in a few seconds later, settling close to (Y/N) just so they could laugh at the boys.

“We came in to say good luck on the race”, Pietra said, pulling Lando for a quick hug. “We know we’re late and that you need a moment with our girl. But just wanted to wish you the best”.

“She came to wish you the best. I came for the A/C”, Max joked, closing his eyes with the nice temperature of the room. Lando threw a cushion at him, making everyone laugh. Their brotherhood was the best. “But you know, we’ll be rooting for you and shit”.

“I know, mate”, Lando held his hand out to Max, who got up with his friends help. Even though they banter all the time, the boys hugged and smiled with their interaction. Just like (Y/N), Max had been there for Lando for as long as he could remember.

“We’ll let you alone with your lucky charm”, Max winked at (Y/N), who smiled widely at him.

They had barely closed the door when Lando attacked his girlfriend’s lips once again. (Y/N) was taken by surprise when she got lifted off the floor once again, but quickly melted into the kiss, slowing the speed down just to the soft pace that she liked.

“Easy there”, she said against his lips.

“My lucky charm”, he said back, not stopping the kiss for a single second. “Gonna make me get a podium just by being here. I got pole yesterday just because of you”.

“That’s what I’m talking about”, she smiled, breaking the kiss apart to speed him up. “Come on, you need to get dressed”.

“Wanna see me naked that badly?”, he joked, taking off his shirt to start changing into his race attired.

“I don’t need that. I already saw it last night”, she winked and Lando melted, bursting into laughing.

“I love you because we have the same sense of humour”, he took off his trousers, giving his girlfriend the view he knew she wanted to see.

“Well, but it’s never a bad sight to see”, (Y/N) smiled. Behind closed doors, it was so easy for them to be a couple. Her heart felt safe and it was like no one in the world could harm them. But anxiety always gets the best of her. One moment she was laughing and joking, and the other she was on the verge of hyperventilation.

Lando noticed it, though. “What’s wrong with you?”, he sat next to her, only wearing his underwear, when he saw the quick change of humour on his girl. From the very first moment he laid her eyes on her in the paddock, he could sense she was off.

“I love you so much, you know?” (Y/N) let a tear fall down for relief, and Lando quickly wiped it off with his thumb. “I don’t want them to ruin what we have”.

“They won’t ruin this, I promise you”, he pressed a long kiss to her cheekbone and she spilled a few more salty tear, they met his lips in seconds. “You’re safe inside my heart”.

“I can just see them ruining this for us, you know? The public”, she admitted. “The whispers and the blurry distanced images on social media. The comments.”

“I told you not to read the comments, baby”, Lando shook his head in disapproval and (Y/N) shrugged. “My love, this thing between us has been here for years. If everybody finds out, I will do everything that I can to protect you and what we have, okay? Don’t worry about it”.

“Okay”, she replied, hugging him once again. “I love you, Lan”.

“I love you too. So much”, he admitted, kissing the crown of her head.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.

Before he went on to continue with his pre-race routine, Lando stayed in his room for a while longer, just letting his girlfriend hold him for a little while. He was fucking terrified of the Monaco Grand Prix, specially because the race was very tricky; a driver against track kind of race. So having his girl alongside him calmed his heart. He had pole position. He was going to make it all worth it.

“Remember that I’m always with you”, she kissed him again before they got out of the room.

All Lando wanted to do was hold her hand until he was required to be inside his car, but since their situation was delicate and everyone already thought they were together, he just couldn’t risk it. So he held her hand for as long as he could, but had to let it go by the time they got close to the sea of photographers, all waiting for the pilots. (Y/N) stayed behind, ready to meet Max and Pietra to watch the race from the hospitality. He got one last look at her, who waved at him, giving a shot of confidence to his body. He could do it. And most importantly, he was going to give everything to bring this win to his girl.

Max quickly found (Y/N) lost between the crowd and pulled her to sit with all of Lando’s friends. The race was about to start, and the cars would be out at any second now. And yet, all she could think of was a group of people, sitting right behind her, and whispering while staring at her back. Annoyed, she turned around and squinted her eyes at them, making the group shut up. They were one hundred percent talking about Lando and her; it was visible because of the way they stared at her wrist, with one of his bracelets shinning brightly for the whole world to see. She brought it up to her hand, holding the number 4 charm between her fingers. It would be fine.

“I know why you’re like this for the entire morning”, Max whispered close to her ear. “Don’t worry about people. He loves you so much. Nothing bad is going to happen”.

“Yeah, I know that”, she nodded at him. “I love him so much too”.

(Y/N) let go of the bracelet, only to hold Max’s hands. They had been best friends too for the longest time. So after Lando, he was the one who provided her so much comfort and safety. Pietra did too, so it was nice when she left her post next to her boyfriend to hug (Y/N).

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide.

Lando wasn’t a great fan of alcohol, but the taste of champagne on his lips after finishing P2 in Monaco felt so good. A weight taken off his shoulders to have finished on the podium. It wasn’t a win, but it was definitely the best result he had in his mind. “I’m just glad I finished the race”, he thought.

Staring down the podium, he found his girlfriend standing so excitedly for him, jumping up and down with the result. And as if it was possible, his smile widened at the sight and he shook the bottle to splash just enough to reach her downstairs. He was so happy. Genuinely happy, on top of the world, and no one was going to bring him down.

The post race interviews were taking too long for him, who desperately wanted to celebrate with his team, his friends and (Y/N). But when his PR team finally called him back to the garage, he went rushing to see the people he adored the most. He hugged a few people from his team as he arrived, and Max was the first friend he found and shared a long hug. From over his bestie’s shoulders, he spotted (Y/N) standing behind, with proud tears brimming her eyes and a big smile painted on her face. Lando immediately let go off Max and pulled his girlfriend just to hold her for a few seconds.

They could hear the cameras clicking around them and the people calling Lando, but he was in a trance. When (Y/N) was there, it was like the entire world didn’t exist. He was P2 in Monaco; the race that stresses him out so much from the very early moments of his career. And his girlfriend, the person he loved the most in the world since he was a little kid, was there to celebrate it with him. Life couldn’t get any better.

“My boy”, she whispered in his ear, her mouth very well hidden between them so no one could read her lips. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much”.

“Thank you for being here. I love you more, baby”, his lips were also hidden, and it pained him that he just couldn’t openly say those words to her. “I can’t wait to kiss you, oh my God. I’m going insane”.

“Just a few more minutes”, she held his face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving space for other friends to talk to him.

Zac Brown took the longest time with Lando, giving him the post race pep talk he always needed. And by the end of it, at the rush of the moment, he admitted his new relationship to his boss, who laughed at the admission.

“I knew you were head over heels for this girl”, Zac said, giving Lando a few taps on the shoulder.

“We’re just keeping it a secret, between the closest friends, so nobody can ruin it”, Lando added to his confession. “But, yeah, (Y/N) is my dream girl and you know me. Can’t keep shit from anyone. I just wanted you to know”.

“Go celebrate it with her! You still have a few hours until we fly to Spain for the next race. Take her somewhere nice”.

“Where? This whole city is crowded with paparazzi and cameras. I just can’t risk it, Zac”.

“I know a place you can take her”.

Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences. Let them say what they want, we won’t hear it. Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.

His driver room was getting too small to fit his love for (Y/N), and Lando felt like those four walls would eventually burst from the flames of his heart. He was getting irritated by having to hide it from everyone. But having her holding him and pressing delicate kisses to his face made him feel like everything was going to be just fine.

“I want to go out to celebrate it with you. Properly, as boyfriend and girlfriend”.

“Very funny, Lan”, she crossed her arms and he arched his brows at her attitude. “If you can magically find a public place, we can just be boyfriend and girlfriend without the prying eyes, I’ll gladly let you take me there”.

“Lucky for you, I have the best boss in the world.”

The paddock was absolute mayhem after the race, specially the bridge that connects it to the marina, where all the boats were anchored for the weekend. Lando tried to be subtle with (Y/N), not holding her hand as they walked in public, but after almost losing her among the people and the cameras flashing on his eyes. With much effort, he found her hands and laced them together, just so they wouldn’t get lost.

“Lando, what are you doing? People will see us”.

“Let them say what they want. I don’t fucking care”, he tightened his hold on her hand and dragged her to the marina. There were a lot of parties happening around the docks, with people enjoying their time post race to get drunk with other millionaires, who travelled all the way to Monaco for the luxury of the weekend. (Y/N) was actually very confused with where they were going.

“Why are we here?” She frowned, but he ignored, too busy looking for Zac around the place. His boss was waiting next to the boat, talking to the people who take care of his boat. A smile flashed on Lando’s face when he saw that everything was already arranged perfectly for him.

“Lando! (Y/N)! It’s all nice and ready for you”, Zac smiled at the girl, taking her hand to shake. “I talked to the commander, they are going to take you to a private place and I made sure they had a nice dinner prepped for you two, okay?”

“You’re the best, Zac. Thank you so much”, Lando hugged his boss and then let it go to help his girlfriend get into the boat. “And please delay my flight for another day, boss!”

“I’ll try my best, kid”

Lando and (Y/N) hid inside the boat while it shipped away from the shore. They were served with champagne as they waited for their getaway. Their boat was very tiny compared to the other ones that were anchored for the race weekend, but it was enough for a couple getaway for the night. Zac probably paid the team to keep their mouth shut and, that way, they could enjoy being together outside his flat for once.

“Okay, this is perfect”, she giggled, pressing a kiss to Lando’s collarbone, exposed by his button-up shirt. “God, today was so stressful for me. I’m actually tired”.

“Oh, me too”, he giggled. “I mean, I’m getting tired of all the hiding. Kind of want to go around screaming that I have the best girl in the world as my girlfriend”.

“Lando, we talked about this”. (Y/N) was afraid of the response she would get once they were public. If there’s someone who was going to suffer the consequences, it would be her. She would have to deal with the comments and the bad shit from the internet; not him.

“Loose lips sink ships”, he quoted the words his girlfriend said a few weeks before. “Not this time, okay? I won’t let people do this to you”.

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love. They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.

Enjoying this night with each other had been a dream come true. The peace, the quietness and the privacy from the ocean was everything they need. Somehow it gave them hopes that, even though it was hard, everything was going to be alright. After having dinner, prepared by the boat’s chef, they decided to enjoy some alone time out on the boat.

Lando took some amazing pictures of (Y/N) on the boat and they had a really fun time doing a small photoshoot. They pushed each other playfully and threw compliments that easily heated up each other’s cheeks. Not to mention the funny faces she did for the camera, making him think he couldn’t love her more. She was it for him.

“I hate being a broken record, but I do think your fans are on the verge of finding out about us”, (Y/N) broke the silence between them, that was filled by soft music they put on for their small photoshoot. “I mean, right now, I can just see their miraculous minds creating theories of why we left holding hands today. Or why did you linger longer while hugging me after the race”.

“Do you trust me?” Lando put his hand out for her and she laced their fingers together, as a silent ‘yes’ for her boyfriend. “You need to stop thinking that going public is an absolute nightmare scenario, alright?”

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”, she scrunched her nose and sighed. “I know. It’s just, I don’t know how you deal with the fame. It feels like we’re foxes and they are hunters, trying to catch us all the damn time”.

“Then we’ll keep running from them for as long as we need to”, Lando promised, pulling her closer to hug her.

(Y/N) took a moment to admire her boyfriend’s beauty. Her head resting on his shoulder and fingers trying to touch every inch of the skin of his face. “I’m so lucky to have you, Lan. It makes me feel so stupid that I waited too long to say that I loved you for the first time”.

“Well, I’m the luckiest too”, he said with the most beautiful smile on his face. “Without your endless support, and the love you sent me all day, I wouldn’t have performed so well today. Or any other day in my career. It doesn’t matter if you only get to kiss me now. You’ve been the most amazing person in my life for years now. I’m so glad I have you, (Y/N)”.

“I promise we don’t have to keep this a secrecy for much longer, okay?”, she rubbed circles on his cheekbone and looked between his eyes.

“We’ll run for as long as you need us to. And when you’re ready, the whole world will know how much I love you. I swear to God, I’ll buy thousands of drones to write a message in the sky just so everyone can know how much I love you”, he joked, making (Y/N). “But while you’re not ready, I know places we can hide”.

Baby, I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down. Cause I know places we can hide. I know places…

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

author's note: I don't have a taglist for F1 yet, so feel free to add yourself for future work! Hope to see you around soon. Come chat with me about the teams, I promise I'm nobody's hater on the grid.

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hotmencore · 10 months

Text

“𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬” 𝐃𝐑𝟑

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: In which Daniel learns the true extent of his girlfriends hatred towards mornings.

Warnings: language, but other than that it is pure fluff

Word count: 700+

A/N: Sunshine x grumpy is one of my favourite tropes so i had to make a fic for it, and no one is more symbolic of the sun than Daniel Ricciardo. This will probably get edited because i don't really like it.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

Everyone knows that Daniel is a pure ray of sunlight. He is the joy of the grid, and the life of the party around family and friends. Everyone also knows that his girlfriend is all of those things too. You both match each other perfectly, your contagious smiles, your quick witted humours, everything! Well, apart from one thing.

Mornings.

Daniel is always in a good mood, including at 8.00am on a Saturday, but you on the other hand, are in a good mood about 98% of the time. And that 2%, includes 8.00am on a Saturday.

Daniel woke up at that time today, and wanted to get up on time to start his day. But you, did not. And Daniel knew that. He has always known that. He always will know that. But today, he decided that he would try his luck with getting you up at the same time as him, as he would for once like to actually start his day off with his girlfriend. He turned over in bed to face you, your head somewhat shoved into your pillow, face turned away from him, the covers laying over your body delicately.

Daniel decided to try a simple and slick approach, slithering his hand beneath the covers in order to not move them too much, to lay his arm around your middle. You shifted slightly, and Daniel instinctively held his breath. You didn't wake up, so he was able to quietly breathe a sigh of relief, which absentmindedly made him rethink his choices. But he knew he had to commit. He shuffled up towards you, his bare chest now lightly scraping your back.

Now was the time.

Daniel slowly leaned into the crook of your neck, and placed a soft kissed on your bare skin.

"Good morning love" he murmurs.

All he gets in return is a loud inhale, and an even louder groan. You roll away from him in frustration that you had been woken up, your face now shoved even further into your pillow. This does make Daniel chuckle, as he once again laces his arm round your waist, and this time, pulls you flush to him, away from your lovely cool pillow and soft covers. You open your eyes slowly, and do nothing but groggily death stare him.

"Hello little miss grumpy" he tries again with a grin. But before he can even respond, your hand that lay on the outer side of your boyfriend slams down beside you to grab your pillow, and to speedily swing it back past you, aggressively thrashing it down on his face with a thump. Of course this 'violent' throw of a soft pillow didn't do any harm, but Daniel was still taken aback by the new found approach of you pretty much telling him to piss off and let you sleep.

"Fuck off Daniel, its too early" you mumble, although your body still lay wrapped up with his.

"Love its 8, not 4" he replies with a small chuckle, removing your pillow from his face.

"That's still too earlyyy" you groan, causing a real laugh to come from your boyfriend, who was finding this torment of yours quite hysterical.

"Come on, we can get up together and have breakfast at a normal time for once, not at like 11 for a change, Who knows, you might actually like it" he offers, a slight hesitance prominent in his voice.

"You can get up, i'm not" you quickly reply.

"Come on, mornings aren't that bad" Daniel counteracts.

"Fuck mornings" you respond, nuzzling into Daniel further, trying to fall back asleep. Through instinct, your arms go around your boyfriend, now fully cuddling him. Although you were still annoyed that he woke you up way earlier than you would have liked, you couldn't resist the warmth that radiated off of his bare, muscly chest.

Daniel ponders for a second, and finally decides to give up on his attempt, now deciding to do mornings your way, just this once.

"Yeah alright, you win, fuck mornings" he repeats, a small smile playing at his lips as he leans down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

From beneath Daniel, you smile with pride at your amazing Saturday morning win against him and his early mornings,"Victory is sweet, but sleep is even sweeter, so shut up now so i can go back to it."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo fanfic #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x yn #daniel ricciardo one shot #sunshine x grumpy #tropes

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esouliie · 5 months

Text

– SLEEPING BEAUTY.

– pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x fem!reader!🌷

– synopsis: saturday snoozes & wanda’s infamous pancakes.

– warnings: fluff, nat is a lil cutie, wanda’s a mama bear ofc!

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Quiet mornings in never ceased to amaze Natasha.

However, the space usually cozy and warm was now full of crisp autumn air. Her nose twitches at the change in temperature, the cold tip in stark contrast to her clenched fingers. Even the rising sun couldn’t defend from the chilling bite of the morning.

Natasha liked waking up first.

She liked being able to see her girlfriends relaxed as they dream deep, far away from this world. From that alone, early risings were her thing, and have always been.

Except on Saturdays. Her Saturdays.

Admitting defeat against cruel nature - and even Wanda for letting the cold wind in - to stay in bed a little longer, she throws off the covers and into the kitchen.

“It’s too earlier for breakfast.” She groans, bare feet loud against the tiled stone, unruly hair sticking out all over the place.

Wanda turns to the short woman, a light smile across her cheeks, “It’s never too earlier for breakfast, love.”

Her busy hands were smothered in chocolate and flour. Chocolate chip pancakes stacked perfectly to the side.

“The sun’s not even fully up.” She moves forwards, her arms find the witch’s waist. “Besides, it’s Saturday.”

Wanda chuckles, “uh huh, and that’s suppose to mean…?” She toys with the Russian, her fingers poke gently against her cheek, leaving a little batter on the cool skin.

Unbeknownst to this, Natasha presses her head into the woman, as she finally notices the grainy feel of flour push into her and Wanda’s collarbone.

She doesn’t care as her continued grunts of protest are muttered against the woman’s chest.

Wanda laughs at the woman’s childish antics, “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t get to sleep in. Y/N was even up before you!”

Her head perks up that. You, the most laziest, most sleepy, most anti-early rising person she’s ever known got up before her?!

Wanda continues, “did you not notice no one else in the bed when you woke up?”

She realises the reason she was so cold wasn’t just because Wanda had opened the windows, but because you weren’t snuggled up against her like usual. Her own personal furnace.

“That’s impossible. There’s no way-” She’s cut off by the sound of you opening the front door, keys clatter against the side as you kick off your shoes.

You were wrapped up warm for the outside, Wanda’s thick coat hanging past your waist and a beanie protecting your ears.

“Hey sleeping beauty!” You greet her, groceries in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other. “Did you sleep well?”

Natasha doesn’t answer.

“These are for you!” You hand Natasha the flowers, before putting the bag down against the island, revealing the contents to your girlfriends.

“And these are for you!” You hand Wanda a few jars of her favourite vanilla scented candles before explaining all the snacks you brought were for your movie date later. Wanda noticed a few of them were snacks she use to love from when she lived in Sokovia.

You must’ve looked everywhere for them.

Not waiting for their reactions as you went to hang up the witch’s coat and put away the milk before it gets too warm.

“Baby, what’s all this?” Wanda speaks first, a gentle coo in her voice as she pulls you away from the fridge. “I sent you out to get milk, not spoil us with snacks and gifts.”

You know Wanda’s not upset with you. She’s more so surprised you did all this at such an early hour. You fall into the taller woman, cold hands clutch around the back of her neck.

“I know but I wanted to do something special for you guys.”

A gentle kiss falls upon you. You hold on to her tighter.

Natasha still hasn’t said anything, too caught up in smelling her new roses.

“We were just talking about how you managed to wake up before Nat.” Wanda juts her chin towards the woman as you spin in her arms to face her.

“Oh yeah? Did you enjoy your extra snooze, babe?” You play into Wanda’s set up, but Natasha doesn’t bite.

Instead she places her flowers down, and leads you out the witch’s embrace into hers.

“It would’ve been better if you both were still in bed with me.”

She realises you’re much colder than her as your hands- pressed gently against her back- send shivers down her spine.

Her lips softly press against your skin, trailing up until they finally meet yours.

“Thank you for the flowers, darling.” She holds on to you tighter, swaying you side to side a little bit, before yanking the beanie of your hair, revealing your hair to be just as unruly as hers.

You giggle, “My pleasure! My girlfriends deserve to be spoiled every once in a while.”

With a cheeky grin plastered across your face, you grab a hold of Wanda also, leading them both towards the stove, “but I am getting kind of hungry so, Wands, if you’d be so kind…?”

You wait with a plate stretched out towards the woman, that same grin on your face she can’t help but to find absolutely adorable.

They look at each other, the shared knowing look in their eyes.

So much for us being spoiled.

"Why yes, your royal highness!” She replies in a really bad English accent, rolling her eyes and yet matching your smile.

Natasha steps forward, a turner in hand as she retrieves a pancake for your plate.

"Breakfast is served, my lady!"

You all loved Saturdays.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff x you

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janeyseymour · 29 days

Note

Hey an idea for an epilogue to Love Thy Neighbor would be cool to see how they're doing maybe a year later when they've been living together for a while, or when they tell everyone else at Abbott that they're together. No pressure obviously, love the story!

your wish is my command, llama.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Ousted

Summary: the crew finds out that you and Melissa are dating, and have been for quite some time.

WC: ~2.45k

Since Jared’s arrest with the police three months, a lot has happened. Ellie has only continued to grow and flourish into a beautiful seven year old (Melissa absolutely spoiled your daughter on her seventh birthday, claiming that she had six years of birthdays to make up for), you were able to get restraining orders in place against your husband while also getting all of the child support the bastard owed you and then some (thanks to your girlfriend’s connections), and you had moved into the apartment across the hall and in with the redhead of your dreams.

Ellie absolutely loves living with Melissa, although not much has changed even then. Before the three of you lived together, the redhead was often over at your apartment, and your daughter could usually find the two of you in bed sleeping in as much as you could with the little girl running around on Saturday mornings. You still take her the park consistently, and almost all of her routines are the same as they were when you lived in the apartment across the hall. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make your heart absolutely swell when your now seven year old proudly announces, “Mel! I’m home!” on the rare occasion that you and Ellie venture out without your girlfriend before sprinting to wherever the redhead is in the apartment and launching herself into Melissa’s arms.

What hasn’t changed is that only Barbara knows that the two of you are involved romantically. Everybody else just believes that the two of you are quite close and that you carpool to work because you live in the same apartment complex. It’s not that you’re hiding your romantic relationship- it’s just that you’ve never actually bumped into anybody outside of work because while they’re going out to bars, you’re at home or at the park with your girlfriend and daughter. Neither of you are particularly touchy at school either, so while you hold hands at the park or Melissa will set her chin on your shoulder at home, your work crew doesn’t see those soft, warm moments.

But today is terrible for you. You wake up with a groan, and your hand immediately flies to your lower stomach. PMS really is a bitch for you, and it doesn’t matter how many pills you’re on to try to combat those pains. Motherhood doesn’t stop though, and you go to roll out of bed to wake Ellie for school.

But a gentle hand stops you. “I got her today,” Melissa tells you in her deep morning voice. She sits up and runs a hand through her hair before making her way out of the bedroom and into your daughter’s. You hear Ellie squeal with delight at the sight of your girlfriend, and you can’t help the smile that washes over your face.

You know you have to get out of bed though. Work calls, and with the substitute shortage that seems to never end you know you should be there for your kids- even if it means teaching from your chair with the heating pad pressed up against your body nearly all day. So you roll out and get dressed as quickly as you can before heading into the bathroom to fix your face and ridiculous bedhead.

When you make your way into the kitchen, your girlfriend and your daughter are already eating breakfast and there’s a plate and mug of coffee just the way you like it in your spot. There’s also a glass of water, a few pills, and a hot water bottle waiting for you.

“Good morning,” you sigh as you take your place. Melissa immediately leans over and kisses your cheek. Ellie follows suit.

“Good morning, Momma,” your little girl squeaks out through a mouthful of egg.

You smile over at her before reaching for the medication and downing it with a gulp of water. The hot water bottle gets placed where you’re hurting the most, and you groan in discomfort as you pick up your fork.

“That bad, huh?” the redhead looks at you, clearly concerned at the amount of pain you’re in.

“I’ll be fine,” you grumble. “Just don’t let me forget the heating pad when we leave today.”

Melissa gives you a look of pity before finishing off her breakfast. She clears her spot at the dining room table before glancing to your daughter. “Go be a good girl and get ready for school on your own today?”

Ellie finishes off the last of her breakfast and races for her room.

“And brush your hair the right way, El!” your girlfriend calls after her. Ellie’s giggles can be heard from her room.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled getting her up and ready today.”

“Take it easy today, okay?” she tells you before kissing the top of your head. “I’ll take care of El today. All of you have to worry about today is getting through.”

The three of you are out of the apartment and in the car much faster than you had anticipated. And of course, you forgot the heating pad in your bedroom as you head out for the day, your mind only on the hot water bottle in your clutch. You only realize that once you’re in the staff lounge sipping on your second cup of coffee for the day.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, but of course Melissa hears you. So does Ellie.

“Momma, you said a bad word,” your little girl scolds you.

“Momma forgot the heating pad today,” you groan as you hold your stomach.

Ellie purses her lips into a fine line, as does your girlfriend. “Oh.”

“Shit, I’m sorry I forgot to remind you,” the redhead places a gentle hand on your shoulder as she apologizes. “I’ll run back home and pick it up during prep today.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you sigh back. “I can survive the next eight hours.

You indeed, are barely surviving by the time your prep comes around, and your kids head off to their special class without you there to escort them down the halls. They make their way through the building silently, knowing how much you hate when they chatter in the hallways and wanting to make you proud. Of course, on her way back from dropping her own class off, Melissa runs into your class. She finishes taking them down to the music room before making her way into your classroom.

“Y/N? Hun?” your girlfriend knocks on the doorframe lightly, and the sight in front of her nearly breaks her heart. Your curled up in your desk chair as a few tears make their way down your face.

You brush away at your tears quickly, praying she hadn’t seen them. “Hey.”

She makes her way into your room, closing the door behind you. “Babe, are you really hurting that bad?”

You just nod. “I forgot the heating pad, my water bottle is cold, and I thought I had Midol here, but I was wrong.”

“Honey, I can run-”

“You’re not running home and missing your prep period because I’m an idiot,” you groan. “I’ll be fine.”

“At least let me heat up your water bottle for you.” She holds out her hand, expecting you to put the object in her hand.

You sigh in reluctance before giving it to her. “Thank you.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head. Melissa peers into your coffee mug, which is relatively empty, before plucking it off your desk and heading down the hall for the staff lounge.

She returns a few minutes later, and you give her a grateful smile. She presses a quick kiss to your temple before she pulls a chair up next to yours and starts on her grading as her free hand gently rubs your back. With the warmth of her hand and the bottle pressed up against you, you manage to doze off. You only wake when she shakes your shoulder gently with an apologetic look.

“Huh?” you grumble as you open your eyes blearily. It takes a second for your eyes to focus again, but when they do she’s standing right in front of you with concern in her own sparkling green eyes.

“Babe, you fell asleep,” she tells you. “Are you really sure you’re okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you hum out as you stretch just slightly from being in a ball for the last thirty minutes. You go to stand to pick up your kids, but your girlfriend stops you.

“I got ‘em,” she promises. She returns with your kids a few minutes later.

By lunch, you’re absolutely drained. Your kids were being well-behaved for the most part, but there’s always shit that you have to deal with when it comes to them. You groan as you make your way down to the staff room, and when you expect to see your girlfriend she isn’t there.

“Anyone seen Melissa?” you ask as you grab your lunch from the refrigerator.

“She just left,” Janine says. “Said something about having to run out, but she’ll be back soon.”

You scowl as you sit down in your spot. You know where she went- home to grab your heating pad and Midol.

“Why?” the second grade teacher asks.

You shrug. “Just curious. She normally beats me in here.”

The redhead comes in about ten minutes later with your heating pad in hand. “Hey.” She plugs it in and hands it to you.

Gregory, Janine, and Jacob all give each other questioning looks. Their looks only grow more confused when you take it from her hastily and press it against your abdomen.

“Melissa, I told you not to go home and get it,” you sigh as the pain starts to go away.

She just shrugs and hands you the bottle of pills she brought from home too. And then she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning to get her own lunch.

That has Jacob and Janine’s mouths fall open.

“Close ‘em,” Melissa quips. “You’ll catch flies.”

“What- what was that?” Jacob points between the two of you frantically. “What was that?!”

Melissa rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t give them the response they’re looking for.

“‘Home’?” Janine searches for words. “A kiss on the head? What is going on here?!”

“We’re dating,” you sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

“Dating?” Gregory asks. “As in… you’re seeing each other romantically?”

“That’s kind of what dating means,” you quip.

“Since when?” Jacob asks. “Mel Mel, I thought we were tight!”

“We are, Jacob,” your girlfriend rolls her striking green eyes again as she sits down next to you. Now that the cat is out of the bag, you pull your chair a bit closer to hers and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Since when?” the man asks again.

Melissa takes a bite of her own lunch. “Officially? About nine months. Unofficially? The day I met Y/N and Ellie.” Your girlfriend looks to her work wife with a smile.

“You knew?!” Janine asks Barbara incredulously.

The kindergarten teacher just laughs. “Melissa is my work wife, of course I knew. Why do you think I’m Auntie Barb whenever Ellie sees me now?”

“Oh my god,” Jacob gasps. “It all makes sense now!”

“What’s the commotion?” Ava asks as she waltzes into the staff room.

“Y/N and Melissa are dating,” Barbara tells your boss. “And everyone else just found out.”

Ava gives the two of you a look in approval, not that you see it with your eyes still closed. “Does this mean Melissa is now a milf too?”

“Ava,” Melissa warns lowly.

“What?” the principal asks. “We all knew you was hot, but now you’re like a mother- milf!”

“I am Ellie’s mother,” you grumble as you open your eyes to glare at your boss.

Ava gives you a smirk. “And we all done been knew you was a milf.”

“Ava, I swear to God,” you warn. “I am not in the mood for this right now.” You close your eyes again, and that gets your principal to quiet her mouth. It doesn’t get the others to stop asking questions though.

Melissa answers them, mostly shortly, for the rest of lunch. The bell rings, indicating that the lunch period and recess period is over though, and you groan as you remember you have to get through the rest of your afternoon with the kids.

Thankfully, they’re angels for you, and you have no doubt in your mind that your girlfriend gave the class a talking to while she was bringing them back in from outside.

You head outside a few minutes late to monitor dismissal duty. When you get there, Ellie is already on Melissa’s hip and clinging to her as she animatedly tells the redhead about her day.

“There’s my little girl,” you sigh as you make your way up to them.

“Momma!” your daughter brightens at the sight of you. She reaches for you before remembering that you aren’t in the state where you can really hold her right now while standing up.

“You can cuddle your momma at home,” Melissa promises her. Ellie seems content with that compromise, laying her head down on the second grade teacher’s shoulder.

Dismissal is over not much longer after that, and the three of you head home. Your girlfriend cooks dinner, you get your daughter to do the worksheet that her teacher sent home, and then you curl up on the couch like you usually do after a long day at work. Ellie snuggles right up to you and promptly falls asleep listening to your heartbeat as she watches her beloved Bluey.

Melissa reaches for the remote and lowers the volume of the television before speaking. “So, how do you feel about the group knowing? About us?”

You shrug against her. “I don’t mind- I’m surprised it took them this long to find out actually, but I’m shocked you ousted us with a kiss to my head.”

“You looked like you needed it,” she tells you before pecking your cheek.

You smile. “I did. And, thank you for bringing me the heating pad, as much as I was annoyed you missed some of your lunch.”

“Anything for my girl,” the redhead chuckles against you. “Think you’ll be feeling at least a little better tomorrow?”

“I doubt it,” you sigh. “You know how I am.”

“I do,” your girlfriend frowns just slightly. “We’ll make sure that we don’t forget the heating pad tomorrow though, yeah?”

You nod against her shoulder.

“And if we do, just know that I’ll run home again for you,” she promises you.

TAGS, and lmk if you wanna be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

Text

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 6

Last chapter! Thank you all for the love!

am i better yet?

You stay inside the entire time Jamie’s visiting. You end up calling Georgie and telling her you’re sick, a side effect from poor rest. She clicks her tongue and has Simon deliver some food that he swears clears up any type of ailment. You accept it readily and wave goodbye, promising to come over as soon as you’re better.

It’s Saturday night and Jamie leaves tomorrow evening so he can be back in Richmond for Monday morning training. Sometimes you can hear his voice through the walls and you think your heart is going to burst with all the emotions it causes.

You’re angry at yourself, first and foremost, but there’s something about actually hearing him that makes you realize how much you love him. Then comes the sadness because you screwed it all up, and you’ve come to realize that Jamie would have loved you no matter what. He had made it through the worst of your relationship, why did you convince yourself he’d leave you?

You’re fed up with all these fucking feelings so you grab one of the muffins Simon sent over and slip out the front door. The cool air kisses your skin as you lug your weighted blanket into the perfect position. Ah. Bliss. You make sure the porch light is off before completely settling in.

The routine is familiar and adds an element of normalcy that you so desperately need.

—

You’re woken up at precisely 4am by Simon and Georgie’s door creaking open and someone slipping out. You don’t even have to look to know that it’s Jamie. You can tell by his footsteps. He’s headed out for a run and doesn’t know you’re there because it’s still dark. You think you should probably head inside so he doesn’t see you when he gets back, but the thought is barely formed before you fall back to sleep.

—

You wake up again in your bed with the oddest sense of d��jà vu. You know for certain you were asleep in the front of your house, and there’s no way you got yourself here. The weighted blanket is placed with care, covering you in all the right spots. You roll out of bed, throw on your robe, and pad downstairs to find out who’s making noises in the kitchen.

You round the corner to find Georgie making breakfast. “Morning love,” she says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “You hungry?”

You nod mutely and sit down as she hands you a plate.

“You need to lock your doors,” she says as she flips knobs on the stove. “You never know what sort of people could just walk into your house while you’re asleep on your porch.”

“Georgie,” you say slowly as she grabs a cup of coffee and sits across from you, “how did I get here?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, mug conveniently hiding her expression.

“I mean, I was outside. Then I woke up inside. And I know you and Simon didn’t get me there, so how did I get here?”

You don’t know why you’re even asking. The answer is obvious, isn’t it?

Georgie must think so too, because she doesn’t directly respond. Instead she says, “Had an interesting conversation with my son this morning. Came back from his run all flustered.”

You note the way she says my son, not “Jamie.”

She continues, “Said he found a girl asleep out front. He was worried about her and I said not to, that’s just the girl we’re always having ‘round for tea, but he was having none of it. Said you’d be better off inside in your own bed, with someone to make sure the door was locked because you always forget to do it.”

Georgie sips her coffee again, looking straight through your eyes and down to your soul. “It’s funny, because he talked like he knows you. Odd, innit?”

You choke on your toast.

You gasp out, “Odd,” in agreement, but Georgie is still looking at you with those piercing blue eyes.

“You know my baby tells me everything,” she says. “Not always right away, but he does.”

You nod. There’s no salvaging this. You’re going to have to move again to Chelsea or someplace equally new and foreign, and it’s your own fault for never being honest.

You’re about to open your mouth to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you’ll never see me again and it’ll be ok, when Georgie places her hand on yours.

“I love you like my own child,” she says. “And maybe that’s because I see myself in you. I don’t want you to get stuck in your head the same way I did. Which is why I think all you need is another chance. One where you’re told by more people than one that you’re loved and wanted, and most of all that you’re safe. Which is exactly what I told Jamie. He’ll be over here in about five minutes.”

She takes another sip of her coffee with her free hand as you choke again.

“Georgie,” you sputter, “he doesn’t even want to see me! He told you what happened. Oh my god, I need a hairbrush.”

“You’re wrong, love,” she calls after you as you rush to your bathroom, “He absolutely wants to see you.”

—

You’re thundering down the stairs exactly four minutes and fifty-eight seconds later just in time to hear Georgie answer the door and promptly exit, leaving you with Jamie. Jamie, who you haven’t seen in months.

This is going to be a shit show, you think, but then you remember everything Georgie has ever said to you. Including the phrase, “He absolutely wants to see you.”

You don’t have time to twist that into something negative because Jamie Tartt is standing in front of you in your kitchen looking like the best thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s taking every ounce of your self-control not to launch yourself into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. “I shouldn’t have run away. I broke your heart on purpose and that was a shitty thing to do. And I’m sorry for becoming friends with your parents and not telling them. I should’ve handled it better.”

Jamie’s frowning. You wish his face were at least neutral.

He says, “You’re sorry,” as though he can’t believe those words are coming out of your mouth. You cringe a little.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I know that doesn’t make anything better, but… I am.”

Jamie asks, “Why?” and you have no idea what he means.

“I just told you why I’m sorry,” you reply. “Not sure how much clearer you want.”

Jamie shakes his head. “No, fuck, I mean- why are you sorry? Why do you think you have something to apologize for?”

That catches you off guard. That’s not even remotely close to how you thought he would respond.

You’re trying to figure out what to say when Jamie starts talking again.

“Look- I knew what it was like for me mum when I was growing up. Sometimes you meet the wrong person and they fucking… fuck you up. So when you meet the right person, you’re all scared and it’s all shit so you do the things you should have done with the wrong person. And yeah, I was fucking wrecked when you left, but I understood. I’m me, and me is a lot.”

The corners of your mouth turn up ever so slightly at the odd turn of phrase.

Jamie takes a breath. “What I’m saying is, maybe we have things to work on. But I want to work on them. With you. Not with someone else. Fucking hell, babe, I’ve never laughed as hard as when I’m with you. Like, imagine there’s this bird and she’s fit as fuck but then she talks and says the funniest shit and but then flips the switch and actually listens to what you have to say? Has actual empathy, like. It’s a fuckin’ breath of fresh air after being with the lads all day.”

“Right,” you say. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh fuck no,” Jamie replies. “I was mad. Yeah. Proper mad. Got over it, though. Talked to Ted a lot, and Dr. Sharon. Worked through some of me own shit. Mummy says you’ve been working on your own shit too.”

You slowly nod. “Yeah, I have. It’s been alright. She gives me hope, you know? She has a perfectly wonderful life and she was able to get out of her own head long enough to enjoy it. Not let it slip through her fingers.”

You’re both silent for a moment. It’s been forever since you’ve seen Jamie up close, and you still find yourself lost in his eyes.

You both have the same thought at the same time and suddenly your arms are wrapped around his middle and his are holding you tightly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

“I’m not letting you walk away again, yeah?” he says. “Mum’d fucking kill me if I did. You’re the only one I want anyway.”

You nod into his chest. “I love you so much,” you say, voice muffled. “I can’t believe that I get to have you.”

—

Jamie tells you over dinner that night that he’s the one who bought your flat. It’s waiting for you to come back. You finish out the month in Manchester then move home to Richmond.

A year later, there’s a forest and a picnic and a ring on your left hand. Eight months after that there’s a garden and starry lights hung in trees and a white dress. You’re surrounded by friends and family and a sign that says, the Tartts and glasses are clinking the whole night as you kiss someone who chose to be patient with you. You’re two people who saw exactly who the other was, and chose to love each other for it.

Table of Contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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dantenyhpmir · 7 months

Text

Reunion

Pairing; Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Plot; You've been discharged for over a year and Ghost has finally found you

Warnings; Literal Fluff, you're fine.

Word Count; 986

Dante Nyhpmir Masterlist

Part 2(NSFW)

You were walking through your local farmers market on a Saturday morning. Picking up some of the freshest bread you'd ever had and grabbing some breakfast. You knew a couple of the vendors as you walked through the crowd checking off one of the errands you had in your list.

The air felt different though. More so than just the changing of fall. Like someone was watching you. Training never really goes away, especially not that feeling. It always hit you like a train, even after being discharged. You couldn't just unlearn everyday of training you were brought up with in special forces. It had been a year since leaving it behind but that didn't change your lack of relaxation. You thought time would help but it hadn't. Still the same time every morning, the same nightmares, the same yearning for him with no word to speak of. The scars still aparrent on your body from when they took you. From when he couldn't find you.

But he did find you.

Simon didn't mind going out in public as much as anymore. It sounded selfish to say out loud, he would never admit anything good came from COVID but he did enjoy being able to wear half a mask as he went about the civilian world. Still feeling the level of personal protection from hiding his face that he had in combat.

He'd lie to himself and say he wasn't there for you. "He just so happened to be in the area" he'd say to help him sleep at night but his head turned every direction hoping you'd be there. No one was supposed to know where you'd been placed, for your own protection. Even the people closest to you on the team. No one on task force 141 were ever told directly that you and Ghost had been seeing each other but they also didn't need to. Every chance you had be next to each other on missions, you both took. Laughing too hard at each other's jokes but mostly what confirmed it was how feral he had gotten when you were captured. When you were in danger.

He knew Price was right not to tell anyone where you were but he was still angry about it. Enough that Price gave him leave to cool off for a few months. He wasn't focused when he was working, which wasn't like him. He could always switch it off and get back to work but not since you had gone. With no goodbye. It wasn't up to you though. Some things were out of your control. And his.

He promised himself if he found you he wouldn't get close but as you moved through the crowd his feet moved on their own. You were good at disappearing into people, he knew that but, he needed to be there. To look at you a little longer. It wasn't enough of a glance to satisfy the longing he had been doing for over a year now. He couldn't lose you again.

You moved swifty to the edge of the crowd, not running but conscious enough to make a decent pace without a panicked energy about you. You knew someone was following you. Your mind always went to the worst possible answer, especially after you had been captured. It may have seemed over the top to be scared of those kind of things happening but you didn't expect them to happen the first time and so you kept moving. And he kept following.

At the edge of the market you turn to face the crowd, looking around at one last table. Ghost finally catches up, slowly walking over next to you. Not acknowledging you. He wouldn't. He didn't want to bring any attention your way. He just wanted to see you. It was odd seeing you in civilian clothes, your hair down. He could smell your shampoo.

You knew you weren't in danger as he stood next to you. Both looking at the table, facing the vendor. Pretending the other didn't exist. Price would've never told him where you were, he had to have gone through the records himself. He could be terminated for that kind of defiance but here he was.

You had never really seen his face. Through every exchange, all of them, you two ever had, even the private ones, he wore the mask. You never saw him without the skull dawning his face. Part of that was what made him comfortable with the idea of finding you. He could follow you without it and you wouldn't know, except….

"Simon" you say in a low breath, your face turning towards him

His head turns to face you but he says nothing, only getting lost in your eyes. Finally being able to look down at you again.

The vendor comes over, you order for the both of you some quick baked goods and make your way down the bike path. His eyes trained on you.

"How did you find me?"

"Can't say"

"How much protocol did you break Simon"

"Worth it"

"You didn't answer my question"

"I'm not going too"

You look at him. Both stopping for a moment, taking in finally seeing one another again. You both had missed each other so much your bodies ached each night before bed. Wishing the others presence could be there as you fall asleep and find the next morning.

"Y/N"

"Yes?"

"How did you recognize me?"

There were lots of ways. The skull mask was certainly a defining statement in the task force but it was nothing compared to his cologne. It would slowly fade in as he stood next to you. The unmistakable feeling of when his body would loom over you. Trying not to be too close but you could feel his tension to edge next to you. The biggest one was palpable.

"I could never forget how it felt when your eyes were on me."

Part 2 (NSFW)

#ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley art #storytime #cod mw19 #cod mw2 #fanfic #task force 141

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gracieheartspedro · 8 months

Text

Cool About It

it's here. the third and final part!

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: it's been over a year with joel and some things have just fallen apart. you miss him, more than you'd like to admit. after some time apart, you find yourself at tommy's christmas party. your recent endeavours catch up with you, and joel doesn't like the way it's looking.

Part 3/3

Links for Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, very angsty, age gap, joel being very protective, use of homophobic slang, guy being creepy towards reader, very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names

Author's Note: I'm so happy to bring this final part to you beautiful people. I've loved writing this series so much! Thank you for your patience and kindness. please leave feedback, I love hearing from you guys.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

“So are you and Joel going to work it out?”

It was a question bearing on your mind for months. You really didn’t want to hear it from Ellie.

You and Joel had officially been broken up for three months after seeing each other for over a year. It was never a concrete thing, the foundation of your relationship was cracked due to some unresolved trauma from both of your pasts. Joel was in the same boat as you when it came to not being able to cope with his grief. His daughter being taken from him so young, the horrors he went through trying to survive the end of the world, and of course the deep and complex relationship he had with Ellie. You had a lot of unsettled trauma from losing your entire family and being alone for most of your life. You also always had this sinking feeling that he was not telling you the full story about the last couple years. He seemed hesitant to discuss how he found Ellie in the first place. You could tell there was some awkward tension and unresolved issues between the two of them. You just wanted to help.

He started drinking a whole lot towards the tail end of the relationship and you weren’t sure why. He’d stumble back home drunk, not even able to kiss you goodnight.

It was getting complicated. He was terrible about communicating his feelings and you were too stubborn to accept you were ever wrong.

Of course, there were good times. Like all of the Saturday nights going out dancing with Tommy and Maria. The game nights with Ellie. Sitting outside on his front porch with nothing but his guitar, making you sing songs only your father would know.

You missed him terribly. But you knew it was for the better. It has to be for the better.

Ellie sits next to you at the annual Christmas party which was hosted by Maria and Tommy. They usually did it at their house, but with a toddler, it just didn’t seem realistic there anymore. So instead, they had it at the large food hall and invited all of Jackson.

You glance over at her, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol you’d been consuming.

That was another thing. You couldn’t stop drinking, now. It was the only way you could get to sleep at night. You had even started going to the Tipsy Bison every night to get wasted and on some rare occasions, have a guy take you home.

You were almost positive Joel was sleeping with one of the other patrol leaders too, a girl named Kelly. She had made eyes at him before you two got together. You’d seen them around a couple times, just talking and getting close. The first time you saw them, you got wasted at the Bison and threw up your entire breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

It only made you want to get over him faster, so having those guys take you home was a distraction. But you’d never fully admit that.

“I don’t know, kid,” Is all you could think to say to Ellie. Your mind was muddled with stupid emotions and disgusting whiskey.

“He’s nicer when you’re around. Now, he’s just… angry.”

You felt bad. But you couldn’t fall back into that routine with Joel. Fight, makeup, fight again. There was an extreme disconnect in communication. It was exhausting.

You stand up on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go grab ‘nother drink. You want somethin’?”

Ellie was technically underage but you knew she drank with her friends sometimes. She looked at you with a bit of contempt.

“No, thanks.”

You shrug, sauntering back over to the bar.

You notice a familiar silhouette at the end of the bar, but don’t bother glancing that direction. You knew he was watching you and Ellie talking a second ago, his eyes always trailing you. You didn’t want to look over and see Kelly beside him, so you act like he isn’t even there.

“Another whiskey, pleaseeee,” You beg the bartender standing nearby. He doesn’t look too happy about serving you more, but you had lost all sense of self control about an hour ago and he knew that by the look on your face. He pours you some more dark liquor and sends you on your way.

As soon as you turn to walk away, you spot another familiar face walking directly towards you.

Josh Hall.

He was one of the guys you slept with. He was a nice guy, kinda. He was a know it all, shallow, and a bit arrogant. So maybe not a nice guy.

You slept with him twice, both times when you were drunk. From what you could remember, he didn’t make you cum.

He was only a bit taller than you, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was cute enough to get into your pants. But every time you thought about any other man, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t Joel.

“Hey there,” You try not to slur, “How are ya?”

“Hi beautiful,” He grabs your hand, pulling you in for what you assume is a kiss. You wince, directing his lips to your cheek. He presses his chapped lips against your skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to avoid the gazes of the people around you. You could feel his eyes on you even from 50 feet away.

“Thought you’d wanna come dance with me,” He has his hand slipping around your waist. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. He knew you were drinking, your glass swaying right in front of his face.

Your red flags are raising quickly. Josh never approached you any other times of the day. Never during patrols, never just around town. He only showed interest when you had a glass of liquor in your hand.

“I am actually bringing this drink to someone, so please get off of me,” You lie, trying to get him away.

You had to be patient with a guy like Josh. He could be pushy sometimes, so you had to be firm but sweet. You wouldn’t want to start a stir at a party with a bunch of families, right?

But he wasn’t letting go.

His eyes were piercing into yours. You could tell he was drinking, his eyes a bit glassy like yours. You hadn’t even seen him come into the party. It’s like he just appeared to make you mad.

“Just have one dance with me,” His breath stunk of alcohol and unbrushed plaque. You wanted to vomit.

“No, I need to bring this drink to someone.”

His grip is getting progressively tighter and he’s walking you backward.

“Who? Who’s drink is it? New boyfriend?”

You swallow hard, not knowing who to say.

“It’s for Ellie.”

He smirks, “You givin’ an underage dyke a drink? Don’t think her daddy would like that.”

Something in you flips. Rage. Pure unadulterated rage. Your body doesn’t even give your brain a moment to mull over your next move. You throw the drink on the ground, the glass shattering all over the floor. You step back, finally breaking away from him.

“What did you just fuckin’ say?!”

He releases you, backing up. He had this offended look on his face, like you had kicked a puppy.

Liar.

It made you even more mad.

“What did you say, Josh?” You emphasize his name, never breaking eye contact, “You fuckin’ call her that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

You stomp forward, your hands reaching up to him. You had never snapped so quickly in your life. Something about him saying negative about Ellie made your protective maternal instinct go into overdrive. Ellie meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last year with her and Joel.

Your fingers wrap around his scrawny little throat. He was trying to back away, but a table stopped all his movements. He was pinned.

“You fuckin’ dare talk about her or anyone I fuckin’ know, I will make sure you never utter another wor-“ You feel hands around your waist, pulling you back from possibly choking him out. It almost takes the wind out of you. Your hands let go of his neck, but not without digging your fingernails into his skin.

You are so blindsided, you don’t even know who has a grip on you.

“Hey, hey, stop!” His voice is familiar. Almost Joel’s, but not.

No, because Joel is instead grabbing Josh from the spot you pinned him to. You look back and see Tommy, his face panicked and confused.

You watch as Joel grabs Josh by the shirt, throwing him towards the middle of the dance floor. A bunch of people are standing around watching Josh stumble, trying to gain his composure. The music completely stops, bringing the hall to complete silence. Joel doesn’t give him enough time to stand up straight. You try to push Tommy off of you, but he’s got an iron grip on you.

“What did he say?” Joel yells towards you, gesturing towards Josh. Everyone has completely stopped what they are doing to watch the scene unfold.

You look towards where Ellie is, her face twisted in horror. Jesse stands next to her, his face serious. You know this is probably embarrassing for her, so all the anger leaves your body, replaced with guilt and shame.

“Joel,” You warn, “Please.”

Joel was extremely protective when you two were together. Ever since you two split, he has tried his very hardest to not snap. Once he sees a man’s hands on you, though, he can’t help but let fury fill his entire being. Tonight was no exception except this time, you got violent before he could. Which only meant you had no other choice. You usually keep a calm exterior, trying not to step on anyone’s toes. When you drink, you’re actually sweeter and more complacent.

“What did he say?”

Instead of you saying anything, Maria steps in. She wedges herself between Joel and Josh, making sure neither one of them takes another step.

“Cool it!” She yells, her eyes flying over to you being held back by Tommy.

“He better get his ass out of this tow-“

“Shut it, Joel,” She warns, reaching out for his arm, “Let’s take a walk.”

“‘m not going anywhere,” His voice is booming which sends a chill down your spine, “Get this fucker out of here and away from her.”

He looks towards you, Tommy slowly loosening his grip on your upper body. You wiggle out, trying to steady your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you were panting like a dog.

You’ve completely sobered up. The dizziness you feel is just from adrenaline.

Maria guides Josh to the door, listening to him rant about his side of the story. You look back at Tommy, who’s obviously taken aback by the way you snapped. He’s never seen you so mad.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tommy. He just said something about Ellie,” You whisper it, trying to ensure Joel didn’t hear. You know well enough that if he found out the words Josh uttered, he would have a pistol between the poor guy’s eyes.

“I think you need to go home and cool down,” Tommy suggests, “This is not the place for that.”

You felt horrible. Everyone’s eyes were still on you. You nod, understanding Tommy’s reasonings for practically kicking you out of the party. He gestures Joel over, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I’m gonna have someone walk her home,” He nods to you, “Would you be willin’ to or should I ask Jesse?”

Joel shakes his head, “I’ll get her home.”

“I can get home myself,” You retort, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You didn’t want Jesse or Joel walking you home, it felt like a walk of shame times a million.

“Get her home safe, Joel,” Tommy remarks, tapping you on the shoulder. He wasn’t giving you an option.

You step over the shattered glass, while Joel guides you to the door. You felt so humiliated, not knowing what face to make at the people who were scowling you. So you keep your head down, grabbing your coat from the chair beside Ellie. Joel is trailing behind you. You look up for a second, meeting Ellie’s brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” You mumble, “For everything.”

She shakes her head, her lips thin, “It’s okay. Get home safe.”

Joel taps your shoulder, nodding his head towards the door. You put your winter coat on, pulling out your hair that’s stuck between it and your thermal.

It was snowing, soft pillows of white ice covering all of Jackson. You breathe out a loud sigh when you get outside, while Joel shuts the dinner hall door.

You didn’t know what to say to him, really. You felt like he shouldn’t have stepped in, but deep down you were glad he did because it probably put the fear of God into Josh. Maybe he won’t ever speak to you again.

When you start on your journey home, you and Joel are silent. You hadn’t spoken much since your separation. You two got into a huge blowout fight in which the both of you said some pretty terrible things to each other. It was the first and last time you yelled at Joel.

“Why can’t I just make my own decisions?”

“You almost got yourself killed! You almost got Ellie killed. How the fuck am I supposed to react? Just let you two back on patrol like nothin’ happened!? No fuckin’ way. You’re not going back out unless I’m with you.”

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, “I had it under fucking control, Joel! You always find ways to blame me for something! I brought her home. I did. You weren’t fucking there because you were too fucked up to even get up this morning,” You knew that stung, the way his face twisted in disgust, “You’re the last person on Earth to make decisions for me or Ellie.”

You struck a nerve, you could tell by the deadly serious look on his face.

“You don’t know what’s good for, Ellie. Stop actin’ like you fuckin’ do. You have manipulated her to believe she knows what’s good for her. She doesn’t, okay?”

He couldn’t be serious.

“You’re not even her real father, Joel. She is going to remember all the times you shut her down and made her feel like she didn’t have a choice. Is it really worth your pride?”

He slams his fist on the table, “Get the fuck out!”

You accept that as the end of the conversation and the relationship.

You start to walk through the slush, knowing you had a good 15 minute walk home. You felt sick with anxiety.

“How have you been doin’?”

You laugh, “Fuckin’ fantastic, Joel.”

“Yeah me too,” He lies. He clears his throat before continuing, “So, what did he say?”

“Drop it Joel,” You warn, a hiccup coming up your throat, “Let’s just not talk about it ever again.”

“I’ll get it out of ya one day,” He comments, zipping up his jacket some more. You shake your head, chuckling a bit at the absurdity.

“You didn’t have to step in,” You add, “I had it handled. Like I always do.”

His pace picks up, matching yours.

“Wrapping your hands around ‘nother guys throat is not very you, darlin’,” He says, grabbing your arm to halt your next step, “He had to of said something pretty bad for you to throw your drink and choke him out in front of a bunch of people.”

You knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to lure it out of you, but you weren’t caving. He was good at making it seem like there was no choice other than tell him what happened.

“Guess you’ll never know, Miller,” You tug your arm away, “Tommy said you’d walk me home, not interrogate me.”

He huffs, “You are so stubborn.”

You stop mid step, turning to look him in the eye. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re the one to talk, Joel.”

“And you need to quit the drinkin’. Makes you sloppy.”

His tone was condescending and for him to call you out on drinking? No fucking way.

“You sure were sloppy the last couple times I saw you drinkin’. Remember the four patrol shifts you had last summer you couldn’t get to cause you were too fucked up the night before? Or how about a couple weeks ago when you tried to fight that guy at the Bison?”

He takes note of your aggressive tone. You weren’t just going to cower your head and take his shit.

Maybe you were using the drinking to not think about the fact that you missed his stupid ass. Maybe it was to medicate the anxiety that rattled your bones every time he slipped your mind. Either way, he was such a hypocrite for trying to use that against you. Make it seem like he wasn’t doing that same thing when you were still together.

“I’ve quit all the drinkin’… and hey, he called you a name,” He mumbles, “Had to put him in his place.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his statement, “What do you mean he called me a name?”

He continues to walk, almost trying to physically dodge the question. But if he was going to be persistent, you were going to be, too.

“Joel-“

“Garrett said you were whoring yourself out to him and a couple of the other guys. Called you a slut,” He confesses, not looking towards you at all.

You felt sick to your stomach. Garrett was a guy you had patrolled with, a guy who seemed really nice to your face. The same guy Joel gave a black eye to.

“I’ve only slept with like, two other people.”

You could tell it rattled him a bit. It was a statement he couldn’t be mad at, really. He was a man with needs, too.

“Well, the word’s gettin’ around. He said you told him he had the best dick you’ve ever had,” He laughed as the words slipped his tongue, “God knows that’s ain’t true.”

You push your hands into your pockets, “I never slept with him. It’s only been Josh and…”

You stop yourself, instantly feeling sick to your stomach at the next name that almost came out your mouth. It was something you regretted so deeply in every fiber of your being. Something you tried to forget the very second the interaction.

“Who else?”

“No one,” You say, trying to steady your voice, “None of your business.”

“It was Jesse, wasn’t it?”

Caught.

You cough, clearing your throat. You never wanted to talk about this to anyone, let alone Joel. You were desperate and no other guys really made you feel appreciated.

The wind picks up, which causes the snow to billow towards your face and take your breath away.

“Can we just,” You shake your head, trying to get the hair out of your face, “Can we just discuss this when we get to my house?”

He leads the way, moving quickly. You follow close behind, almost using his body as a shield from the snowstorm. When you finally see your house through your frosted lashes, you feel some sense of relief.

Joel walks up to your front porch, gesturing to you to lead the way. You knew you’d have to light a fire in the living room and warm up the small abode, so once you open the door, you rush to your fireplace. You stack wood, not taking much mind to Joel who’s kicking off his shoes and removing his coat.

You didn’t want to do this with him. You didn’t want to discuss anything, explain yourself, or hash out any unresolved bullshit. After the night you had, you wanted to carry yourself straight to bed.

“Want help?”

You crouch down, flicking a match into the pit, igniting the old coals.

“No, I got it, Joel.”

He huffs, sitting down on your slouchy red couch. Nothing in your house was particularly nice, but you kept it clean and tidy. Everything had a spot, except for the man taking up space before you.

“So,” He slaps his hands on his knees, “You want to explain or?”

“No Joel,” You respond, “I don't feel like I owe you an explanation, truthfully. I honestly don’t wanna rehash all this shit with you.”

His lips tighten into a half smirk, “Okay, that’s fine.”

Silence fills the room again. You were shocked he didn’t press it further, but a bit relieved.

“Just wanna ask one thing,” He grumbles. You stand up straight, shimmying your coat down your arms.

“What?”

“Was his dick the best one you’ve ever had?”

You feel like all the air has left your body.

“What?”

“Jesse. Josh. Were they the best you’ve ever had?”

Hearing their names made you cringe. You knew your answer, but you wonder if you should indulge him in the truth.

He knew it already, but he wanted to hear it from your lips. The haze and exhaustion from the crazy evening makes the confession slip from your lips.

“Joel,” You whisper, “You know damn well they aren’t shit compared to you.”

It’s like you blinked and he’s on you. His hands slide up your waist, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a bruising kiss. You don’t pull away because this is what you’ve been wanting.

The sex with Joel was like nothing else. Maybe your relationship was rocky. Maybe you hated the way he spoke to you sometimes. Maybe you hated the way he tried to control every little thing.

But the sex made it all worth it.

The way his hands molded around your body. His lips trailing up and down from your neck to your calves. He knew your body better than you probably knew it yourself. He never walked away from an encounter without making you cum several times. He could play you like his guitar.

You two are falling all over your furniture to make it to the couch. He sits down, holding you close while you straddle his thighs. He’s not letting up, his kisses feverish and hurried.

You pull away to catch your breath. His pupils are huge and his lips are already swollen.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, using your thumb to brush across his pink lips.

“This is what we do, baby,” He grabs your ass, pulling you flush with his crouch, “We fight and fuck. That’s all we do.”

You lean up, grinding down on his growing bulge.

“I shouldn’t want to, but fuck,” You throw your head back, trying to ease the throbbing you feel, “I always want you, Joel.”

“I always want you too, sweetheart,” His hand finds the back of your neck, rubbing circles into the sides while you grind yourself on his lap, “I don’t want any other pussy but yours. No one else compares.”

You smile in sick pleasure, “We are so fuckin’ toxic, Joel Miller.”

He laughs, pulling your head forward. Your eyes meet his and it’s a sudden realization that you two are just actually insane. That after all the bullshit you put each other through, your horniness always wins. He wants you just as much as you want him, and yet you two can never figure out how to work problems out like actual adults.

“Tell me you don’t fuckin’ like it that way,” He trails a kiss up your neck to earlobe, “And I’ll stop right now. Leave you alone forever. Keep your dirty little secret that you like to fuck guys half your age.”

The rise Joel Miller can get out of you should be studied. He knows exactly how to push every button you’ve ever had, even the one’s you didn’t know existed. The idea of people knowing you fucked Jesse makes your stomach twist, especially since he was Ellie’s friend.

You and Joel’s age gap never really bothered you. Maybe it was because he was older than you, but he didn’t feel that much older than you. You felt ancient with Jesse and even Josh. Joel made you feel like you were on the same level with a man.

You stop grinding on him, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him back to meet your gaze. He’s smiling a shit eating grin, knowing you’re pissed.

“You’re the guy who’s fucking people half your age,” You lift yourself a bit, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, “And you flaunt it. You love having me as your little play thing. Y-”

“And you fuckin’ love it.”

“I’m talking,” You shush him, “You are going to let me talk.”

You grab his belt undoing it like you used to almost every night, “You’re going to sit back like a good boy, and let me remind you why this is the only pussy you want to fuck.”

Joel has never seen you like this. It’s like the distance between you two gave you time to gain more confidence. You tested him now, and he kind of liked it. He’d never say but he loved when you were bratty to him. Sure, before you were a little smart ass, but you were practically dominating him. It was a good change of pace.

“Talk ‘bout toxic, baby girl,” He groans, “You know I can’t sit back and be a good boy.”

You use one hand to reach into his pants and grab his hard on.

“You’re going to learn today,” You smile, “Because if you don’t, you’ll walk home with blue balls and you can call Kelly over to fuck you.”

He chuckles a bit, “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You stop your actions, looking at his smug fucking face.

“You literally just interrogated me about how I fucked half of Jackson,” You spit, “I can continue adding to the tallies. Have you watch me whore myself out to all of your patrol partners.”

“You ain-”

“Maybe I’ll get even bolder,” You continue, “Maybe I’ll even try to fuck the other Miller boy.”

You were completely fibbing. You’d never cross that line. You loved Maria and you respected her more than any other person in Jackson. You just really wanted to get under Joel’s skin.

And you quickly realize you did.

He flips you on your back and cages you under his arms.

“You’re a fuckin’ dirty slut,” He is grabbing at your pants, yanking them down. Your jeans were skin tight and wet, but it took no time at all for him to tear them off your body, “You ain’t in charge here.”

“Let me up,” You demand, pushing at his chest. He wasn’t budging, he was on a mission. He tears off your underwear, exposing your wet slit. You didn’t even realize how dripping you were for him.

“Look at you,” He teases, “Fuckin’ pathetic. Tryin’ to say you’d fuck my brother?”

He shakes his head, using his fingers to trace up and down your slit. You wanted to scream out, but your mind goes blank. You were quaking with anticipation. You surrender to him pinning you against the couch. You’d get him back eventually.

“He’d never fuck a slut like you,” He continues, “No, he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve been at it for awhile,” He sticks a single finger in you, making a squelching sound as he does, “Think ‘m gettin’ pretty good at ruinin’ you. Puttin’ you in your place.”

You finally moan out in pleasure, which makes his face twist in satisfaction.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve missed how tight you are,” He groans, “Squeezin’ my fingers and cock so good.”

You’re practically soaking the couch with how wet you are already. All the build up and smack talk really put you in bind, his fingers driving you absolutely wild.

He eases out of you, tracing your body to begin lifting off your shirt. He throws your shirt across the room, noticing you were actually wearing a padded bra. You smile at his realization.

“Found one of these,” You gesture, toying with the straps, “Bet you’d never see the day.”

You had gotten used to never wearing a bra and Joel usually enjoyed it that way. You could never find a comfortable one and all your old ones were ragged and gross. On a recent patrol, you found a red bra in your size in an abandoned home. You stole it, tucking it carefully in your backpack to try on back home. Lucky enough, it fit and made your boobs sit better than they ever have.

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters, lining the bra with his fingers, “As pretty as it is, it needs to go.”

You reach around your back, undoing it without another word. As soon as it is off, his fingers make work at pebbling your nipples. He smacked one with a gentle open hand. You squeak at the impact, watching Joel’s eyes revel at your bare body. He loved seeing you like this, crumbling under his touch.

He props himself up on his knee which is wedged between your thighs. He pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the coffee table next to him. His buttons are already undone after you found yourself with your hands down his pants, earlier. He pulls those down too, letting them pool around his ankles.

“For being a brat,” He nudges you, making you move your legs and plant them on the ground. You sit up, his hand ripping you off of your spot on the couch. He positions you between his legs, his cock standing up waiting for you. You sit back on your heels, enjoying the view.

“You’re gonna try to be a good girl and suck me off.”

You smile eagerily, slowly running your hands up his thighs and to the base of his cock. Instead of getting straight to it, you bring the head of his cock to your lips and kiss it softly. You toy with the idea of completely ignoring his demands, but you come to the conclusion that you’d probably get nothing if you did that. And you wanted him so bad. You thought about this moment for so long.

“Stop playin’,” He groans, watching you with his arms laying across the back of your couch. He looked like one of those statues you saw in old textbooks when you were a teenager. The ones you’d see at an old art museum scuplted from marble. The ones with the small dicks. That’s truly the only thing that differentiated the two. Joel was massive.

“I’m not playing,” You disagree, “Shush.”

Before you can continue your tease, he grabs the top of your head. He is usually pretty assertive, but good God, he was not letting you get away with anything. You widen your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. Instead of progressing down his shaft slowly, he makes you take it fully down your throat. It causes you to gag a bit. You pull back, only for him to push you down again.

You grip onto his thighs, digging your nails in a bit. You knew you would probably leave marks with how hard you were pressing into his skin. He winces, but continues to practically face fuck you.

“You don’t tell me to shush, little girl,” He moans, watching your saliva drench his cock. He finally lets you pull up off him, holding your face in the process, “You hear me? You take this cock like a good girl.”

“Yes,” You manage to say, your throat already hurting from taking him in.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now come sit on my face.”

You oblige, standing up to let him reposition himself.

You two have done this maybe twice. Each time you practically suffocated him, but he fucking loved every second of lapping you up. You knew that you were in for a ride with the way he was toying with you.

He lays on his back, his hands keen on pulling your legs up to his shoulders. Your ass is positioned on his chest, his face between your thighs. You look down at him, sitting up straight before you ease down, letting your pussy take up the bottom half of his face.

He dives in instantly, his mouth hungrily devouring your pussy. You scream out, letting your body relax against him. His facial hair brushes across your folds and inner thighs while his tongue begins tracing your insides. He stops at your clit, flattening his tongue and pressing forward. You couldn’t control yourself, sinking yourself down further onto him. His nose nudges your folds before he runs his mouth down your slit again, so his nose is now pressed against your clit. He moans into you, the vibrations sending you into ecstasy.

You cum, your juices flowing down his face and your legs. He is moaning so loud, mewling at the fact that you never warned him you were about to cum.

He taps your thighs, advising you to get off of him. You shakingly remove yourself from his face, standing up to look down at him. He was so hard and his lips and beard were soaked with your cum.

“You fuckin’ squirted on me,” He laughs, sitting up. You felt kind of embarrassed, like you couldn’t even contain yourself for more than 2 minutes. “I’ll forgive you since it was hot. No cummin’ without permission.”

“Okay, sorry.”

Even though you weren’t sorry.

Your legs were practically numb and still quaking from your orgasm. You’re breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. He notices your quivering and starts pulling you into his lap. You widen your legs, mounting his thick thighs. You look down at his cock, it sliding so perfectly between your pussy lips. He was a fucking dream.

He doesn’t even say anything, just watching you try to catch your breath.

“Relax baby,” He mumbles, “We haven’t even gotten started, yet.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it a bit before having you lift off of his thighs. He eases you up and onto the head of his dick. He spits into his hand, coating his shaft with it.

One thing about Joel, is he’s still the biggest you’ve ever had. No one ever got close to him.

The stretch makes you moan out in pure euphoria. You missed it so much. It was something you craved almost every night.

“Fuck,” You whimper, “Never gets old.”

He laughs at your admission, “Likewise.”

He snaps his hips against yours, settling into a slower pace. He was dragging it out, letting your walls become accustomed to him again. After a minute of slow strokes, he picks up his pace. He repositions, kneeling with his one leg extended out to the floor. You’re lifted up in the air partially, grinding down as he meets your motions with his strokes. Your hands are wrapped around his neck, your fingers finding his hair. His hands and grappling at your sides while you two moan in unison.

You two were finally on the same page, not bickering, just fucking out your feelings. You felt the aggression, resentment, and fear dwindling away from you as you sweat out the brutal pace he’s bringing to the table.

“I don’t want anyone else,” He sighs in between his cock hitting you at the perfect angle, “I only want this.”

You don’t think to hard about it, whimpering your response.

“Please let me cum. Please.”

“So pretty when you beg.”

He’s drilling into you at this point, your tits bouncing right into his face. You lazily throw your head back, letting him take one of your nipples into his mouth. You’re so overly sensitive, you don’t know what to say other than beg him to let you release.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum.”

He releases your tit with a pop, “Cum for me, baby.”

After two more strokes, you’re falling apart in his arms. He wraps himself around you, fucking you through the second orgasm.

He’s a whimpering mess, chasing his own release.

“Fuck, baby, fuck.”

“Cum for me, Joel. Moan out for me.”

His deep and guttral moan sends shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cum release inside you, while his arms grow tighter around you. After he finishes, he lays you back onto the arm of the couch. His cock still rests inside you, twitching at every little movement your hips made.

He swipes his forehead for sweat, marveling at you. He looks so endearing, like he didn’t just fuck your brains out and call you a bunch of names. The thought makes you giggle.

“What?”

You shake your head, touching his chest with your fingers, “You’re just handsome.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

You swat him while he slowly eases out of you. You whine a bit, letting the heat from the fireplace warm your body as oppose to Joel’s body heat.

He stands up, abandoning you on the couch as he picks up his discarded clothes. You prop yourself up, trying to sit up but your body feels like jello.

Your really didn’t want to watch him go.

“You should stay.”

His back is turned away from you. He freezes as he grabs his shirt from the coffee table where it landed.

He clears his throat, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

It was true. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted so badly for this to change everything. But it was just sex. Exactly how this trainwreck started.

He starts to get dressed. You didn’t want to take that as his answer, but deep down you knew this is how things worked. You’d been through it with Joel before. You just had to wait for Ellie to come in and call you his “lady friend” and have him demand you “go get dressed”. It was the same thing every time. You thought it meant something but it really didn’t.

Once he slips his shirt over his head, he walks back to sit next to your naked frame. He brings his hand up to trace your leg, which is perfectly nudged up against him.

You really don’t want to believe all the things running through your mind. You craved an explanation.

“You said you only wanted this, Joel,” You grab a blanket from the back of the couch to cover yourself. You could tell he was at war with his thoughts, “Why can’t we start again? Do I seriously not mean anything to you?”

He realizes you’re pleading with him. He felt so guilty and it was written all over his face.

“Of course you mean somethin’ to me,” He acknowledges, “But we can’t keep doin’ what we were doin’. We always end up screamin’ bout somethin’ stupid. I don’t want to make you unhappy. You deserve to be happy.”

You contemplate for a moment, unsure how to respond.

“If being with you means screamin’ about something stupid and fighting over patrols and drinking too much and bickering over Ellie’s future,” You huff out, trying to not let the hitch in your throat become obvious, “Then I want it. I want it all. All the shit, all the fights. I want it because it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything immediately. The silence was deafening.

“We can try,” He mutters, “But we gotta stop tryin’ to fix everythin’ with sex. We gotta like… talk about things.”

You laugh out loud, noting his seriousness. You two were seriously thinking the same things.

“Can we talk about our problems, like, during the sex?”

You were completely joking. You wait for his response, but it comes with him shaking his head. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Your boobs press against his now clothed chest. You feel his hands slide up and down your sides. You groan in pleasure, his touch sending chills down your spine. You wanted it like this. Forever.

He clears his throat, “Well if I’m sticking around… round two?”

THE END.

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101 @cool-iguana @bbyanarchist @am-3-thyst

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #cool about it #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #the last of us smut

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powerofelvis · 1 year

Text

No Longer The Housewife, Part 2

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader; Austin!Elvis x f!reader

Word Count: 7.2K

Summary: Your husband is looking for you but you are too enamored with Elvis to care. However, you would soon learn that you shouldn’t have been in Las Vegas in the first place.

Warning(s): There are some TRIGGER warnings in this part. Physical Assault, Use of A Gun, Profanity, Angsty asf, SMUTTYYYY, Oral (m.receiving and f. receiving), masturbation (f.receiving), Foot Kink, Exhibitionism, Elvis gives reader slight aftercare.

A/N: I honestly hateeeee part of this, but I hope you guys are ready because it is very angsty and spicy. Make sure you guys read the trigger warnings before y’all dive in because whewwwww I literally had to think about how I was going to implement the husband and let me tell you, he’s dog shit in this part. I hope you guys enjoy ;)

read part one here.

masterlist.

Saturday rolled around too fast for your liking. You already knew that you would have to face Elvis after you told him that you would stay the night in his arms. Pulling yourself up in your bed, you looked over to see that Lindsay wasn’t in bed beside you. Maybe she went to breakfast; you thought as you got out of your warm bed. The cool air from the air conditioning system caused goosebumps to form on your skin as you stood in the middle of your hotel room, only dressed in your nightie. You decided to get ready for the day, walking into your shared bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and you wished you were shocked by what you had seen. Elvis did a number on you the previous night–neck covered with purple-ish marks and little scratch marks that littered your skin. If you were any other vanilla woman, you would have been uncomfortable with the sight. However, you weren’t vanilla, and you wouldn’t become vanilla now. Your fingers brushed over the marks, wincing as some of them were tender to the touch. Your mind went back to the previous night in Elvis’s penthouse–him taking you over and over in different parts of the suite and especially the hot sesh on his piano. Your head was so buried in your thoughts that you didn’t notice your hands moving slowly down your body before your fingers rubbed at your now-sensitive bud.

After your masturbation session and a hot shower, you were finally dressed and ready to go for the day. At that time, Lindsay had returned to the room, so she wanted to know how your night with Elvis went. You sat on the bed with her, not sparing the details of the racy night of lovemaking that you had experienced with him. “Oh, Y/N! You can’t leave him after he made you feel that good! You must continue seeing him or something; screw your bonehead of a husband.” Of course, she would have said something like that. Lindsay couldn’t stand your husband, and yet she is trying to convince you that the only way out of your dead-end marriage was to continue with an affair with the most lusted-after man in all of America. You wanted out of your marriage more than anyone, wanting to escape from the misery that your husband has bestowed on you since he entered your life. You wanted nothing more than to be with Elvis completely, watching him perform every night before he took you until the sun rose in the sky the following day.

Lindsay had convinced you that a day out would be something that you needed, so you followed her around the Vegas strip as she wanted to shop for the second show of Elvis that you both would catch later. You were completely unaware that your husband was trying to find you, calling your family and your other friends to see where you went off to. He wasn’t pleased that you left, especially without your ring. The ring that he paid for signaled that you belonged to him. You were his wife. He may have slept around with a few women, but he felt as if you should have been grateful that he came home to you at night. You should have been grateful that he laid beside you every night and was there waiting for you the following morning. He wasn’t a complex man, all he wanted was his wife to cook and to clean, maybe even satisfy him. All he asked in return was that his wife wouldn’t abandon him, like you were doing. He had found out from your small circle of friends that you had gone to Las Vegas with that bitch, Lindsay.

How he hated Lindsay.

Lindsay was the reason that you were so unhappy with him. She never made it unknown that she hated him, but he could say that the feeling was fuckin’ mutual. In his eyes, she was a whore who always tried to convince you to leave him and become a whore like her. You weren’t a whore, you were his good girl; the reason why he decided to marry you in the first place. He knew how easy you were to manipulate, but he couldn’t help but admit that you were the love of his life. He played on the emotions that your family felt about you being married so young, but he knew all along that Lindsay didn’t buy it. He could care less though, as he only wanted you to believe him. He wasn’t marrying Lindsay, he was marrying you. So why were you running away from him all of a sudden? He wondered if you ever did like how he never wanted you to work, wanted you to stay at home and keep up the house. Any woman would like that, right?

He may have been wrong to step out on the marriage and maybe slap you around a bit, but he wasn’t a horrible husband like the others were painting him out to be. He took care of you, making sure that you never had to work a day job in your life, while working his fingers to the bone. How could you run away from that? Who would want a woman who doesn’t even know how to work a fax machine? He does, so off he went to Las Vegas to bring you home. He finally made it to Vegas earlier that morning, stepping out of the airport with a look of disgust over his features. Out of all of the places that that whore could have brought you, she brought you to the whore capital of the United States. Your parents would have been shocked to hear that you were parading yourself around Vegas with your shitty friend, possibly waiting for another man to pick you up. He hated the thought of some greased up hooligan running his filthy hands over his woman, but he wouldn’t have to worry about that because you were faithful to him.

Even through all of the times that he knew that you caught on to his cheating ways, you never left him before. He was frightened to say the least, the thought of him being alone without you bothered him. This is why he has to find you, he has to make things go back to the way that they were. He was comfortable with what he was doing, sleeping around but cuddling with you at night. He wouldn’t dream of tainting you with his dirty habits, which is why he hasn’t touched you in about a year. As he walked along the strip, he could have sworn that he saw you with Lindsay, your nervous energy he could spot from a mile away. He didn’t want you to know that he was in Vegas, so he stayed hidden but he knew that he saw you. The outfit that you wore sent his blood boiling. You never wore those types of clothes with him, but even if you did, he wouldn’t have liked it. He followed you around town as you and Lindsay shopped for clothes, overhearing how you were going to look amazing for the show that was happening later that night. What show? He had to find out, so he stuck around you for the remainder of the day.

He found out that you were going to see Elvis Presley in concert, like you had the previous night according to Lindsay. Why were you going to see such a washed-up musician in a seedy town? Why did you look so in love when you talked about him? He could tell that you were in love with Elvis as it was the same look that you used to give him. Used to. You never looked at him in that way, only giving him glares or the resting bitch face when he would come home. Were you whoring yourself to this Elvis fellow? The blood continued to boil in him as he stomped off to get a room at the hotel that the show would be happening—the International. Once he got his room, he spent hours pacing as he thought about what he had overheard from you and Lindsay. You were definitely whoring yourself to him, you had to be. The only reason you would wear the loved on look that you had was if he had pleased you in some kind of way. He knew what Elvis Presley was about. His parents used to warn him to never become like him, a sex crazed maniac with the power to make women turn into whores. He wasn’t about to let his wife become one of his whores. Something had to be done.

***

Lindsay pulled you into all of the shops that littered the Vegas strip, making you try as many skimpy outfits that you could fit into your hands. “Remember Y/N, you have Elvis Presley under your thumb. You have to make him want you more.” Her smirk turned your stomach upside down as your thoughts once again moved to the events that happened last night. Elvis had definitely brought out the fire in you, the fire that you didn’t know that you had. You had to see him again, but you were afraid of what he would think. He probably had already figured that you were long gone from his arms and he was probably upset about it too. You didn’t know how you were going to make it up to him, but you wanted him to know that you enjoyed yourself with him. You knew you sounded like other women who had their hopes up when they were with him, but you didn’t care if you sounded crazy when you thought about staying in Vegas for him. You wouldn’t tell Lindsay that because she could make an inch into a mile with hopes. You found the perfect outfit that you were going to wear later on that night, pulling Lindsay towards the front of the store before paying for it. “You’re right, Linds. I have to make him want me tonight, but I am still going to have to find him and apologize.” You just hope that he was willing to listen.

You and Lindsay returned to the hotel soon after, your heart immediately fluttered as your footsteps walked towards the elevator. You wanted so badly to press the button to the penthouse, but you had to get ready for the show later. You shook the thought of Elvis out of your mind as Lindsay pulled you into your shared hotel room, forcing you to put all of your energy into knocking Elvis off of his feet. The dress that you bought was tight in all of the right places, your curves making themselves known. The material was mesh, showing a bit of your skin but only a tease. You placed your feet into your black heels, before walking into the bathroom where Lindsay was—teasing her hair. You stood next to her, beginning to work on your makeup. You settled for the exact replica that you had worn the night before, but you focused more on covering up the marks that Elvis had left on your body. A knock on your hotel room door broke the both of you out of your routine, Lindsay leaving you in the bathroom as she went to get the door.

A black haired man stood before her, sunglasses clad over his eyes but he was staring right at her. “Is Y/N here?” He asked, eyes raking over her body as he was clearly enamored with her. “Yes, she is. Who is asking?” She asked, catching your attention as you walked out of the bathroom, eyebrows raised. His eyes moved from Lindsay to you as he smiled. “Elvis is looking for you. I’m here to take you to him.” Your heart picked up speed, immediately nervous about meeting with him. You nodded your head, grabbing your clutch off of the bed before walking up to the door. Lindsay stood there with a bright smile on her face, clearly enjoying that you had a man who was sending members of his entourage to pick you up. You glared at her, whispering in her ear, ‘calm down, I’ll see you later,’ before you followed the mystery man out of the room. He told you as you both entered the elevator that his name was Joe. “Pleased to meet you, Joe. What does Elvis want with me?” You wanted to know what to expect before you stood in front of the man who had the world in the palm of his hand.

Joe shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the wall as he pressed the penthouse button. “He just told me that he wanted to see you. Whenever he wants something, we do it. No questions asked.” He chuckled, noticing that you were a bit nervous. “Did you do something that makes you all jumpy like this?” He poked into your mind, wanting to know what you had done to be nervous as you were. “I-.. I just want to know if he needs anything, that’s all.” You turned away from him as the penthouse floor flashed on the elevator’s wall. The doors opened as he walked off out, turning to you before urging you to walk up to the door. “Well, whatever you two have going on, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joe laughed out, knocking on the door before he walked off in the opposite direction before disappearing from your sight. The door opened, revealing Elvis in all of his glory. He immediately brought a smile to your face as he opened the door wider so you could walk inside. “I woke up and you weren’t here, lil’ mama. What happened?” Elvis closed the door after you walked inside, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

He smelled magnificent, the scent of tobacco and a hint of cinnamon hit your nostrils as you took him all in. Part of you wanted to tell him that you ran away because you didn’t want him to get caught in your secrets, but you were so scared that you would lose him that you coward away from the truth. You weren’t ready to tell him, but you knew that you had to eventually. So, you turned around in his arms, your eyes moving from the ground up to his blue eyes that were staring intently at you. You could tell that he knew something was up, but you wanted to reassure him that nothing was wrong. You put a wide smile on your face before wrapping your arms around his neck, standing up on your toes—leaning into his embrace. “I didn’t want Lindsay to freak out if I didn’t go back. I know I promised that I would stay, but if you want, I’ll stay tonight.” The voice in your head laughed at your poor excuse. You’re such a liar.

Elvis believed you. His bright smile spread across his face as he leaned into you, pressing his soft lips against yours. You were glad that he didn’t ask further, running your fingers up the nape of his neck before resting them in his locks. He tasted amazing, something that you missed so much as the visions of his body over you came creeping back. You pulled away from him, taking him by the hand before pushing him in the loveseat that sat near the piano that he had graciously taken you on the previous night. Elvis chuckled, reaching over to grab the already lit cigar that was in the ashtray. He stuck it in between his teeth, manspreading as his eyes clouded with something that was normal for you at this point. You got down on your knees as you crawled over to him like a lioness stalking her prey. Elvis was your prey and you were ready to pounce. You didn’t know what he had over you, but you were willing to embrace your wild side when he was around.

Your hands rubbed up his legs before stopping at his thighs, your eyes watching him as he sat there, puffing away on his cigar. His head was thrown back as a smirk crossed his lips, waiting for you to continue. Your fingers danced across his thighs before you grabbed his bulge that was proudly growing in his jumpsuit. You swore that you heard his breath hitch, but he never showed that he was affected as you unzipped the material. You pulled his erection out of his jumpsuit, wrapping your lips around the tip. Elvis hissed, pushing you to push him inch by inch into your mouth. You knew that he had a show that was soon, but you wanted him to relax. All the nervousness he may have been feeling should be released from his body, along with other things. Your mouth worked his cock, moaning as one of his hands moved to rest on your head, pushing you deeper on his cock. You gagged but quickly composed yourself as you took all of him inside your mouth.

“Goddamn, baby. You know just what I need.” He praised you, watching with a smile as you sucked him off. Your hand moved to wrap around the base of his cock, the other moving to fondle his balls as you continued on through his moans and praises. You pulled off of his cock, gathering spit in your mouth before letting it fall down his cock. You wrapped your mouth around his cock once again, lapping up what you gave him, smirking as he lost his mind with how dirty you were being. “Fuck, you’re my dirty girl, huh?” He pulled up off of his cock again, spitting on his cock as well. “Lap it up, slut. My little cum whore.” He let your jaw go, pushing you on his cock once again where you did exactly what he told you to. The slurping noises picked up as your head moved up and down his length. Your hands still fondling his balls, you knew that you were driving him closer to his orgasm. His cock twitched in your mouth before he spilled in your mouth, grunting loudly as you continued taking all that he gave you.

You sat up as you opened your mouth, showing that you were holding his cum. He tapped your jaw, indicating that he wanted you to swallow all of it. You smirked, closing your mouth as you swallowed his cum, putting his cock back into his jumpsuit before zipping him back up. He finished up his cigar, putting it out before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. Elvis pulled you up to sit on his lap, nuzzling against your shoulder. “What did I do to deserve something like that, baby?” You looked down at him, running your fingers up across his chest—playing with the chest hair that sat prettily. “I want you to enjoy your shows tonight, relax. Everyone is gonna be there to see you.” You wanted him to know that you would be there to see him. As if on cue, a knock on the door broke you both out of your romantic stupor as you slid off of Elvis’s lap. Elvis stood up from the loveseat before crossing the room, opening the door to see Jerry and Joe standing there. You waved at them, rocking on your feet as Jerry told Elvis that it was time for him to head down because the show was about to start.

“C’mere baby.” You didn’t need to be told twice before you were immediately at Elvis’s side, gripping your clutch in your hands. “Jerry is gonna take you down to meet with your lady friend. We have a table for you and her so I can see you. I’ll see you later, okay?” He pressed his lips to your forehead, pushing you gently out of the penthouse as he and Joe walked in the opposite direction, disappearing once again from your sight. Jerry escorted you down to the showroom, your eyes immediately found Lindsay who stood next to the table you assumed was where you were going to sit. As you neared the table, you swore you could feel familiar eyes watching you, but you chose not to pay it any attention. You sat down at the table, conversing with Lindsay as you waited for the show to begin.

***

What you didn’t know was that your husband was also in the showroom, standing in the back of the room, watching you. He managed to get a ticket for the show tonight after hearing that you would attend earlier. He was still boiling with anger, watching as you giggled along with Lindsay as you waited for the show to start. He found a table that was out of sight for you, but he was still willing to keep his eyes on you. Once the show was over, you would know that he was there. The lights lowered as the music picked up, your husband’s eyes moved between Elvis and your table. He wasn’t impressed with the show, never being a fan of his music but he had to admit that he must have had a hell of a talent to have women throwing themselves at him. He noticed that you were also acting like those women. He didn’t like it one bit. You would soon learn that he didn’t like this type of behavior that you were exhibiting. You would soon go back with him and he would never let you out of his sight again.

He gripped the glass of the whiskey that he had ordered, downing the liquid as he gained alcohol courage for later. As the show moved on, the anger in him brewed and brewed until he was unable to keep the look of disgust from his face as he watched you and your friend swoon over the dancing man that was performing on the stage. As time went on, he didn’t realize that he had ordered more glasses of whiskey until his vision was getting blurred. He had to stop himself from drinking as his anger grew from the fact that you were enjoying yourself more than he was. You should be enjoying yourself in the comfort of his home, sitting with him and lusting after him. However, that was not the case. Elvis soon exited the stage, walking in the crowd as he kissed the women who wanted it. Your husband scoffed, not understanding what women found so attractive about him but he sure as hell wasn’t impressed. It was until he saw Elvis walk over to your table, placing his hand on your face and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that his anger blew out of the top. He was so angry that he felt that he had steam coming out of his ears.

Once Elvis walked away from you getting lost in the crowd, your husband decided that he would make his move. He stood up from the table, walking over to your table. “So, this is where you are, baby.” He spat, smirking angrily as he noticed how shocked you were that he knew where you were. He grabbed your arm, yanking you from the table as he pulled you out of the ballroom. He ignored the screaming of Lindsay who was telling him to let you go and the pleas of yours—crying that he was hurting you. “I come home after working all fucking day to you gone. I find out that you’re in Vegas with your whore friend and now I know that you’re whoring yourself to see Elvis Fuckin’ Presley.” He stopped, turning back as he saw Lindsay tugging you away from him. He stopped in his tracks, shooting a glare toward Lindsay. “Let her go, bitch. You took my wife away from me and now you want to interfere? You’re so fuckin’ lucky that I don’t fucking call the law on you.” He pulled you away from her, pressing the elevator button before pushing you inside of the elevator—Lindsay begging for him to let you go as the door shut in her face.

***

You struggled against your husband as he pulled you into his hotel room. When did he arrive in Vegas? Why was he there? “Honey, please. Let me go, I’ll go back with you. Please.” You begged as he pushed his room door open, throwing you inside. He walked inside, slamming the door behind him as he rolled up his sleeves. You gulped, knowing that he was going to punish you. He gripped your hair tightly, tilting your head back as he looked over your face. “So, you came here to Vegas to fuck that washed-up pervert?!” His hand came across your face so fast that you couldn’t blink as the pain made your ears ring. You fell backward, pushing away from him as you whimpered. “Please, I’m not doing anything. I just came to-….” You couldn’t continue with your excuse as he pulled you up by your hair, pushing you onto the bed. The bed bounced as you pushed yourself up in an attempt to get away from him. Your husband was not having it, pulling you back to him by your legs as he sat on them. “I didn’t know I married a whore.” His fingers caressed your cheek as his other hand held your arms. “I didn’t know your parents raised a fuckin’ whore.” The hand that was once caressing your cheek soon wrapped around your throat, squeezing a little too tight for your liking.

You gasped, jerking underneath him as your oxygen was cut off. In your mind, you were begging for anyone to help you. You were begging Lindsay would get you some help. You were begging that Elvis would come to save you. You knew, you wishfully thought, as you knew that nobody usually saved you from the wrath of your husband. Your husband moved his hand that was holding your arms, punching you across the face as his other hand still choked you. You couldn’t do anything but cry, wondering why you didn’t leave the country instead of coming to Vegas with Lindsay. You were getting beaten and strangled in your husband’s bed, but no one could save you. As he sat above you, punching and slapping your face as well as choking you, you were fighting back with everything that you had. Your hands were pushing your husband’s face, scratching him across the face as you managed to get his hand from across your throat. You coughed, your oxygen coming back as you screamed out with the little voice you had. “Help! Help me!”

Your husband chuckled as he held your cheeks in his hand, glaring down at you. “No one will help you, bitch. I’m going to show you who you belong to and news flash, it’s not Elvis Presley.” His hand connected with your face once more and you heard a snap. The fucker broke your fucking nose, but you were so numb to the pain that it didn’t phase you. You were only worried about saving your life and not being found dead in a huge hotel in Las Vegas. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please stop!” You begged, now sobbing as you covered your face with your hands, which was becoming soaked with your blood. At that moment, you were sure that you were gonna die and you wouldn’t even be able to see Elvis again. The exact time that your husband was torturously assaulting you, Lindsay had found Joe. She was crying, trying to explain what was happening with you. “Doll, you’re gonna have to calm down. What’s happening?” Lindsay wasn’t sure where you were, but she wasn’t going to stop until she made sure you were safe.

“Y/N—is in trouble! Her husband has found her,” Lindsay started, noticing that Joe’s eyes widened. “H-husband?” He asked, shaking his head. “Long story, but he is probably killing her! We have to help her! He is so abusive to her; he literally will kill her if we don’t help her!” She sobbed, trying to get Joe to do something. Joe nodded his head frantically as he tugged her with him as they went off to find Elvis and the others. Joe led Lindsay to the dressing room where Elvis was after finishing up the show. Jerry was standing at the door, turning to look at the both of you. His smile fell from his face when he saw that Lindsay was crying and Joe was visibly angry. “What��s going on?” He started before looking back at Lindsay. Joe explained what was happening, noticing how Jerry’s face paled before he turned to knock on the door. “Hey, EP. We got a problem.” Elvis opened the dressing room door, immediately noticing that the aura was off. “What’s—where's Y/N?” He asked, eyes locking to Lindsay who clearly didn’t have Y/N standing next to her. Jerry leaned in, whispering the situation in his ear. Elvis’s fists clenched as he pushed past everyone. Joe and Jerry followed behind him, knowing exactly the reason why Elvis was upset.

Your husband had finally gotten tired of beating you, laying beside you on the bed as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You silently sobbed as you laid there, sick to your stomach. You were sick to your stomach because you were laying next to your husband, sick to your stomach because you were covered in blood and bruises, and most importantly you were sick to your stomach because in the midst of it all, you missed Elvis. You wanted Elvis to come rescue you and in the back of your mind, you knew that he would. There was suddenly a knock on the door, and you sat up in bed. Your husband grumbled as he sat up with you, yelling at the door. “I asked not to be disturbed!” The knock came once again, causing your husband to stand up and walk to the door. As he opened it, a gun was placed against his forehead. You gasped, sitting back against the bed frame as Lindsay ran inside of the room. You reached out for her, sobbing in her arms as you watched the scene in front of you. Elvis walked into the room, followed by Joe and Jerry with his gun pressed against your husband’s temple.

“You son of a bitch! You like beating women? You like hitting on MY woman!” Elvis gritted, his blue eyes were painted over with fury, and at any moment, he would have snapped. “She’s my wife! What in the hell do you mean, ‘your woman,’ Your husband spat at Elvis, careful not to say anything crazy as Elvis still had the gun pressed to his head. Elvis chuckled darkly, pressing his tongue in his cheek as he pushed the safety down. You gasped, closing your eyes as you feared that Elvis would kill him. The look in his eyes was so deadly that you were sure that the room would be covered with his brains if he wasn’t careful. “Do you think that I give a fuck that she’s your wife? After today, she’s going to be my wife. You don’t deserve to have her after the shit that you’ve done to her. I know all about you putting your fuckin’ hands on her, forcing her to stay at home while you go out and lay your dick in other women.” Elvis walked your husband backward to the nearest wall, still pressing the gun to his temple. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow your fuckin’ brains out all over these walls? You’re gonna leave Las Vegas tonight and crawl back into whatever fuckin’ hole you came out of, and you’re gonna leave Y/N alone. You ain’t gonna show your face back here ever again, or I will fuckin’ kill you. You hear me, ‘ya son of a bitch?” At that moment, he pulled the trigger, but it clicked. Your husband looked like he could shit an egg out of his ass.

Elvis laughed, smacking your husband’s face lightly before rearing his hand back—connecting his fist to his face. Your husband fell down on the floor, holding his cheek as Elvis climbed over him. The punches kept connecting to your husband’s face as Lindsay helped you out of the bed. Joe rushed over to the both of you as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you out of the room—the sounds of your husband’s groans echoing in your ears. You called out for Lindsay as your vision started to blur. You hadn’t realized that you had lost a good amount of blood until you passed out in Joe’s arms to the sound of Lindsay screaming your name.

When you came hours later, you were in Elvis’s bed. It was still the dead of night, but you could tell that the sun would rise soon. You winced, feeling your head pounding and your ears ringing. Your mind returned to your husband pounding into your face hours earlier, the fear jolting you out of the bed. “Woah, baby. Relax.” A soothing southern accent stopped you in your tracks as you were thinking of taking off once again–escaping from the wrath that your husband had inflicted upon you. “I know you ain’t tryna to leave me again, honey.” Elvis placed his hand on your shoulder, spinning you around; his blue eyes were once again looking into your soul. Although you knew that your face was covered in scratches and bruises, Elvis still looked at you as if you were beautiful. “Gee, honey. I hope you didn’t come here to think that you could come into my world and then leave. How long have you been dealin’ with that son of a bitch?” You were taken aback by the question as you thought that he would have asked about you hiding your marriage from him. “You’re not going to ask about why a married woman is sleeping around with you?” Your voice shook as your arms instinctively wrapped around yourself. Elvis laughed, leading you back over to the bed and sitting you down on the edge.

“Honey, married women are the least of my problems. There have been plenty who have wanted to be in your position, but none of them have made it past one night. D’ya know what makes you different? You have that fire in your eyes, as I do. You want something better for yourself, which is what I like about you. So no, I ain’t askin’ ‘ya about why you are sleepin’ with me. Unless you want to tell me that yourself?” Elvis looked over you with a look of understanding before sitting beside you. You took a deep breath before you started your story. You had met your husband when you were a teenager and immediately married him, but deep down, you did not want to. You told him about how your husband made you stay home while he was out sleeping with other women but would come home and beat you, even though you did nothing wrong. As you were talking, you noticed that Elvis’s fists were clenched–white-knuckled, and his jaw flexed. You placed your hand over one of his, reassuring him that you were okay. “I shoulda’ shot that bastard back there. I didn’t want to scare you off.” He pulled you into a hug before he kissed your forehead.

You melted into his embrace as he kissed down your face, running his fingers over your bruises. You winced, cowering away from him. “I’m sorry you had to save me back there. I feel embarrassed.” You shouldn’t be here with Elvis right now, as you thought that your husband was surely going to find you again. “If you think that your sorry excuse of a husband is going to find you here, he’s not. Joe and Jerry took care of him.” He spoke as if he read your mind. You instantly relaxed, not caring where he was. You were done with him as far as you were concerned. Your husband had ruined your life for far too long, so now it was time for you to live for yourself. Elvis continued to be attentive to your needs more than your husband had ever been. The thought of this made you feel warm inside, so you leaned in pressing your lips to his softly. Elvis stilled before pressing his lips back to yours gently, careful not to hurt you. He pushed you back to the bed, moving his lips down to your neck.

He traced the hand print that was around your neck, grimacing as he thought about how your husband could have killed you. “That bastard, I should have killed him.” He repeated, pressing soft kisses along your skin, licking and nipping at your collarbone. “I think I’m going to worship you tonight. Don’t need to worry your pretty little head about pleasing me.” He whispered, pushing your straps that held the dress to your body down your shoulders. As the straps fell down your shoulders, his lips chased them—nipping and licking at your skin again. He smirked, noticing that purple marks that littered your skin that he knew came from him. As Elvis removed your dress from your body, you shivered with anticipation as you watched him continue to kiss down your body, undoing your bra before throwing it on the floor. He pecked around your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You could have died and went to heaven at that moment. His mouth felt hot on your skin, pushing you to release a whine from your lips.

Elvis continued to show your breasts much needed attention, but you were needy for him. You needed him to assure you that he would protect you. “Please, Elvis.” You whined but you knew he wanted to take care of you tonight. You pushed the urgency of having him inside of you aside as your eyes continued to watch him, kiss and lick down your body once again. His fingers quickly pulled your panties down off your hips, throwing them down where your bra now lay. His lips wrapped around your budding bud, fingers rubbing between your folds. Your arousal was beginning to pool around your walls, slowly oozing out of you. Your back arched off of the bed as he slid two fingers inside of you. Your folds fluttered around his fingers as your own fingers found their way into his hair. Your moans grew louder and louder. You didn’t care. You were deep in pleasure, ignoring the pain that was screaming all over your body from the abuse your husband gave you. You lived for the pleasure mixed with the pain, remembering how Elvis was close to shooting your husband earlier. Your pussy fluttered again with the thought, whimpering curses under your breath as he continued to eat you.

Elvis enjoyed the sweetness that was coming from you, lapping up the arousal that was pooling on his taste buds. He moaned, sucking your pulsating bud, spreading your legs wider as his fingers fucked into you. “You want me badly, dont’cha baby?” He teased, licking around your pussy lips as he pulled away from you; continuing to finger fuck you into oblivion. Your orgasm was growing closer and closer, your toes curling into the sheets as you continued whimpering louder. Elvis pulled his fingers from you before you could cum causing you to groan out in disbelief. He tsked as he kissed down your leg as he pulled your foot up to his face, pressing kisses along the padding of your toes. You gasped, not used to the feeling as he kissed up the side of your foot. Elvis smirked, wrapping his lip around your big toe, playfully moving his tongue around it. Your body arched off the bed again as Elvis pulled your toe out his mouth. “Touch yourself, baby. I wanna watch you cum.”

‘Your hand moved down to your clit, rubbing in a circular motion as Elvis continued to wrap his lips around your toes. You never knew that Elvis was into feet, but you would be lying if you didn’t find the idea arousing of Elvis licking and sucking your toes. You would even entertain the idea of giving him a footjob later, if he wanted. As your brain replayed the moment of Elvis scaring your husband with his gun, you chased your high as you continued rubbing your clit with your fingers. “Fuck Elvis! You were so hot today, scaring my fuckin’ husband with your gun.” You whimpered out, not caring that it could have ruined the moment. Elvis’s brow raised as he smirked at your words. “Yeah? You loved seeing me take care of your husband for hurting my woman? For thinking that he could take you away from me?” He continued kissing at your toes, his eyes not leaving the sight of you pleasing yourself. “Use your other hand to finger yourself slowly, baby. Don’t rush..” He commanded as he moved away from your foot, getting on his knees—only watching you. You groaned, throwing your head back against the bed as your fingers continued to rub at your clit, the overstimulation at its full peak. You could feel all of your orgasm pushing forward like a train, the urge to pee crashing over your body as your hips lifted off of the bed, your juices shooting straight into Elvis’s face. You screamed at the top of your lungs as your legs continued shaking and your orgasm continued to crash over you. “Holy shit, mama! ‘ya fuckin’ covered my outfit with your squirt.” Elvis chuckled, standing up from the bed as he unbuttoned his blouse.

His chest glistened with the mixture of his sweat and your juices, which you couldn’t help but to stare at his dark hair that littered his chest. You collapsed on the bed, trying to catch your breath as the pounding of your heart took over your hearing. Elvis walked away from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he wiped himself off with a towel before he headed back towards the bed, where you laid. He leaned over to your lips, pressing an passionate kiss to your lips before he wiped the glistening arousal from your thighs and your pussy. “Get some rest, mama. Tomorrow, we have a lot of things to do before we get you settled to stay here.” Your brow raised as you looked over at him. After everything that happened tonight, Elvis was still willing to allow you to stay by his side. He was willing to help you escape your husband. Your eyes fluttered as darkness surrounded you. Somehow, as you slumbered beside Elvis, you had never felt more safe. You were never safe with your husband–the bruises and scratches were proof of the pain and anguish that you lived with. However as you laid in Elvis’s arms, snoozing away, Elvis made it his business that your husband would never touch you again. He was going to make sure of it, even if he had to handle it himself.

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