#maybe that will do for the next two weeks
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a friend in need! (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask?
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(
A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING
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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest.
Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for.
Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing.
Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “
“Can you help me down, please?”
Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh.
“Oh, shit… c’mere.”
Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg.
“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper.
When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams.
A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders.
Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”
She breathes. “Peachy.”
Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.”
“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.”
Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile.
She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?”
You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.”
One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home.
“What’s up with them?”
You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.”
“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.”
“Damn… How’s she doing?”
“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”
“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?”
“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them.
“See ya.” You wave awkwardly.
Weird.
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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently.
You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner.
Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer.
Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?”
Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you.
Silence.
You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “
“Dina’s pregnant.”
He didn’t tell you that.
Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit.
No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left.
“What.”
Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks.
“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.”
Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly.
You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina…
And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one.
Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.
“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.”
You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.
“Guess.”
But you don’t have to... Fuck.
Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend.
“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?”
You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.
“There’s no misunderstanding.”
Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.
“… Sorry, man.”
“I don’t care.”
Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.”
“Can we go?”
Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes.
You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “
An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.
Roll!
Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for,
“TOMMY!”
A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine.
“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?”
Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.
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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!”
“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.
Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.”
“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.”
The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning.
You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly.
“Again? Really?”
You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “
Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “
“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “
“You’re the fucking worst.”
“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…”
A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!”
Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable!
“Why’re you looking like that?”
When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one.
You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space.
Another lightbulb. Not a green one.
“Have you ever watched porn?”
She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle.
“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.”
You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote.
A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin.
You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”
“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat.
“Remind me to thank him.”
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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book.
She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?
More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t.
… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl!
“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin.
“Thank you.”
Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!”
“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “
Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!”
You sigh when her expression flattens.
“Ellie…”
“Yes?”
Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay.
“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “
“Aren’t all his drawers special.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.”
Her red eyes widen, but she silences.
“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?”
Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?”
“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”
More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?
Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle?
What the fuck, Eugene.
“Oh, shit.”
Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie!
Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?”
You snort, “Are you asking me?”
“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?”
You shrug, “Find out.”
One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often.
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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out.
High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs.
This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot.
“Are we really doing this right now?”
She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.”
You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one.
“Can we…”
You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?”
“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…”
“Tell me.”
“Later.” She whispers.
You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.”
A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips.
Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp.
“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen.
“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”
You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?”
“I…”
But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure.
“Lemme guess… She look like her?”
If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam.
“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”
There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs.
Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed.
“Tell me who you’re looking at.”
“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.”
Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will.
“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.”
“You like that kinda stuff?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral.
Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her.
Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—
S-Stop staring at me.
It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her.
And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs.
The sight on the screen is new, even for you.
It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half.
Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen.
Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another.
Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.
A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch…
And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing.
Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke.
Lemme see.
Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb.
That’s how you do it?
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches.
Show me how.
Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle.
You first.
You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely.
Not the fucking plan.
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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling.
The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are.
Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm.”
Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again.
Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her.
Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it.
Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine.
Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience.
The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.
When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.
I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.
Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan?
Cum w-with me?
Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger.
Ellie, watch a movie with me?
Ellie, do a puzzle with me?
Ellie, go on a walk with me?
Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!
What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise.
Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more.
Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you.
Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek.
Can’t wait to feel you on me.
Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s.
Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —
Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out.
I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen,
Cumming for you, oh shit—
You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs.
“Lay down.”
“H-Hm?”
“Lay down,” you croak.
And she does, eyes filled with carnality.
The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion.
You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity.
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“Hold still.”
You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.
“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.”
“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “
She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger.
She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches.
Why did you kiss them, though?
It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her.
Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.
“Sor — sorry — “
Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “
And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest?
Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands.
“Hey…”
You meet her eyes.
“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.”
Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction.
Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?
It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something.
“I can walk you back!”
“I got it. I’m not going straight home.”
Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping.
She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed.
Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie the last of us#lesbian#works 𖧧࣪
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stuffy | ljn
plug!jeno x fem!reader
summary: the only way you see him is in the low lights of his stuffy room, but you can't stop coming back for more.
wc: 1.8k 18+ mdni
cw: fwb to ???, dom!jeno, mostly smut, angst, fluff at end, weed use, shotgunning, mentions of addiction (not weed), protected pinv sex, big dick jeno, fingering, edging/overstim, light slapping like once, pet names: baby, pretty, good girl
happy jeno day and belated 4/20! ♡
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you’re addicted.
you never were one to smoke, to drink — to indulge in substances that altered your mind. never one to indulge in people who altered your mind.
yet every saturday, your legs take you to the house at the end of the block, up the stairs, and down the hall to a door on your right, plastered with a plain black sign reading “do not enter.” you knock anyways, knowing that sign doesn’t apply to you — he knows you’re coming.
when your knock is not answered, you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to check if he’s in there. he’s always in there, but the music blasting downstairs doesn’t make it any easier to figure it out. you close your eyes, turning to lean your forehead on the door.
should you go home? it’s not too late to. maybe it’s time to break this cycle.
your thoughts distract you from the steps leading to the door, and you almost fall forward as the door opens abruptly, the pungent scent of weed hitting your nose almost immediately. strong arms steady you as you look up.
“took you long enough.”
his deep voice, made even raspier by the flower in his lungs, sends a wave down your spine. ah, yes. there’s no way you could miss out on him, knowing that if you did go home, just the thought of being in his arms would send you running right back.
“hi, jeno.”
he leads you in, closing the door behind you. his room is a bit stuffy as always from the constant hotboxing, and you take your usual spot on his bed as he packs you a fresh bowl, wordless as his hands do all the work.
it’s always like this — quiet, yet with an understanding you hope is shared by only you two. you know he hates when people are too loud, and if you’re being honest, you don’t really know what to say around him.
he hands you his bong, painted with his initials, and lights the ground leaves for you as you press your lips to the mouthpiece. you’ve done this enough times since the first time he taught you to, and you let the chamber fill with smoke. he takes the bowl off, letting the smoke jet down your throat, and you take it.
“that’s good, baby.”
his praise sends shivers, and you take more and more hits, wanting to hear more, even if you know he won’t say too much. but even if he doesn’t say anything, the smirk on his face lets you know he’s proud.
“hold that one in,” he instructs as you take your nth hit, having lost count a long time ago. he comes closer to you, and with a firm grip on the back of your neck, brings your face closer to his until your lips are just hovering. the smoke threatens to seep out of your mouth, but you hold on for him. he pecks you on the lips before tapping you lightly on the cheek.
“good girl, now give it to me.”
you let go, and jeno crashes his lips into yours, letting the smoke seep out between your messy mouths, your highs making everything just so sloppy. his hands snake around your waist, hands trailing up to explore the skin under your shirt as his lips remain attached to yours.
you let him do this every time, and you want him to. every day of the week feels like a waiting game for the next time you’ll have his hands on you, hazy bodies of even hazier minds intertwined in his stuffy little room.
your clothes come off, and so do his, with some mention of the stuffiness, but your mind is just focused on jeno. his glossed over, red eyes peer into yours as your gaze follows his trail of kisses down your chest, to your abdomen, and finally settling between your legs. he spreads your folds, grinning to see you already glistening for him.
“you wanted to see me so bad, didn’t you, pretty?” his thumb trails lightly up and down your slit as you gasp at the contact, moaning at how just the lightest of his touches can send you into a frenzy.
while jeno values silence, it irritates him in bed. he asked you a question. his thumb dips into your entrance without warning, starting to stretch you out. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, everything being even more heightened by the drugs coursing through your blood.
“answer me.” his thumb moves in and out, other digits going to rub circles into your clit. “you didn’t want to see me?” he coos with a slight fake pout.
“no!” you finally snap out of your high daze temporarily to answer him. jeno chuckles. he thinks you’re so cute like this, so pliable and needy for him. “i wanted to see you, was thinking about it all week.”
“oh yeah?” he asks, one of his hands leaving to pump at his already hard member. “was thinking about you all week, too.” both hands leave you, and you whine at the loss of contact, but jeno just slaps at your thigh lightly.
“be patient, you’ll get what you want.” you hear rustling, and look down to see him lowering a condom onto his member. your mouth drools at his size, sitting heavy in his hand as he hisses at the tight rubber. if you could take a picture, you would, but for now you’ll settle for burning it into your memories.
he doesn’t immediately enter you, going back between your legs. he rubs up and down your slit with 2 long fingers before pushing them into you. like earlier, the intrusion sends shocks, but each ridge of his knuckles has your mind reeling. he slowly pushes them in and out, curling his fingers up every so often as you writhe beneath him.
with how sensitive the weed makes you, you know you aren’t gonna last long, especially when he starts thumbing at your clit again. but jeno knows what he wants. his fingers move faster and faster — he knows he’s good with his hands, and his lips curl up as he feels the familiar pulsing.
your legs start to writhe more and more with each thrust and swipe, and you can feel the band in your stomach tightening and tightening, threatening to snap. eyes rolling up, you are just seconds away from your peak —
you gasp as he rips his fingers out of you, almost crying at the loss, only to get the wind knocked out of you as something else, way bigger and hotter, enters you in one swoop. your mouth opens, but no sound comes out as you cum hard.
jeno groans as he feels your tight cunt pulse around him, even more turned on by you cumming from him just entering you. he has to compose himself, also super sensitive from the weed. but this is what he wanted — feeling you wrapped around him, inner walls massaging him. he takes pride in the way your body reacts exactly like he wants it to.
“so fucking tight.” your pussy is gripping firmly as your hands fist his pillows beneath your head. he plants his feet, making his way down to kiss you as his hands interweave with yours, pinning your hands beside you.
“take it, baby.” his hips start to move. “i know you can.”
in no time, his hips begin to piston, deep grunts in time with the moans leaving you, sensitive and overstimulated cunt taking all of him in, doing exactly what he told you to. you always do what he tells you to. every snap of his hips has you seeing stars, hands holding onto his for dear life.
he’s not gonna last long, grunting and panting at the feeling of your pussy tightening even more at the onset of another undoing. your cries get louder and louder, unable to form any words as his movements numb your mind further and further.
“f-fuck, always so fucking good for me.” his hips start to get uncoordinated, but a harsh stutter has you cumming around him once more. he grits his teeth as his hips slap against yours harshly, cumming with a loud groan as his hips still.
he twitches a bit as he comes down, moving his gaze to you catching your breath as your eyes flutter. he plants a deep kiss on your lips before hissing at the feeling of his softened member leaving you.
separating from you, he removes the condom, tying it and chucking it into the bin next to his desk. he puts on a t-shirt and sweats, and silently walks out the door, glancing at your spent form on his bed.
you’ve caught your breath, and your heart sinks as you realize it’s your time to leave. to wait another whole week before you can do this again. to go through the motions of dealing with this desire for a man you only know in the low lights and stuffy feeling of his room or from the orders he drops off weekly to your roommate.
you know can’t overstep, so you reluctantly get up to put your clothes on, assuming that as always, he’ll come back long after you’ve left.
you finish dressing, but the door opens again before you even reach it. jeno stands there, two cups of water in his hands. why is he back so soon?
“sorry, was on the way out.” you move to brush past him, but to your surprise, he blocks your path.
“here.” he offers you one of the cups, and your eyes move from the cup up to his face. an expression you’ve never seen on him before graces his features, and he looks almost.. shy? you take the cup gratefully, and take a sip as jeno closes his door. your eyes follow as he climbs on his bed to open the only window in the room, letting a pleasant breeze in.
he looks back at you, patting the bed next to him.
“stay over?”
you move on autopilot, unable to deny him as you climb into his bed. as you close your eyes, resting in this warm embrace, once cold and temporary, you hold on tight as he lulls you to sleep. your thoughts are all over the place, but of one thing you’re sure.
you’re addicted, but so is he.
end.
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a/n: surprise!! it's almost 2am rn and i have so many things on my writing list but was somehow miraculously able to get this out really quickly for jeno day!! i wanted to make him a scarier plug and end the fic sadly but u all know me.. i cant do that :'o i've been kind of less active bc i've been super busy and tired recently, but i hope everyone is doing well! feedback and shares are always appreciated
-coco♡
#coco works#coco writes#nct smut#nct dream x reader#jeno smut#jeno x reader#stoner!nct#nct fluff#nct angst#nct#nct fic#nct scenarios#nct hard thoughts#it's almost 2am but i wanted to post it while its still jeno day officially lmao
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Imagine a Virgin! Reader thinking she outsmarted König by saying “I’m waiting till marriage” so he has a mock wedding in the basement 😭 imagine he kidnapped a priest to do the vows aswell.
In this whole situation, you mostly feel bad for the priest. Honestly, he just drew the worst possible card of being available in town next to Konig's dwelling and not being that cool type of priest who carries a gun. Konig kidnapped him, using the same method as you - and now there are two people stuck in his basement, but only one coming out alive. And fucked, thoroughly.
It's kinda your fault - you said that you will never agree to sex before marriage and that you're too pure and innocent to even think about kisses without a wedding band. Konig loves you, obsesses with you - and he appreciates just how pure you are. Compared to his jaded position and cynicism, you're a pretty flower growing in the desert. Konig's heart was broken far too many times, and his years in the military didn't help with being a nice guy either - so, he appreciates his future wife being a faithful woman who values her innocence. Still, he doesn't appreciate it enough for a normal wedding.
At least he has some sense in him, not fucking you in front of the priest. Konig drags you to the bedroom in the dumb white dress that he brought specifically for you - it's drenched in blood already since the basement isn't the cleanest place in the house, but he doesn't care. You look good in red. Too good, maybe. Good enough that Konig forces you to get on your back and kneads your ass before lapping at your cunt like a mad dog. He waited for this too long - a few weeks already, when he still thought your resolve could be broken easily.
He's glad he waited - the sight of you trembling and crying under him is beyond divine. He wants you, he needs you, and he is so glad he can finally sink into your pussy, feeling your innocence slowly shattering under him. You can cry all you want, maybe loud enough for the priest in the basement to hear - but you can't escape him. Soon he will make you cry and squirm on his cock, moaning from pleasure - and soon you will beg for him to do his husband duties every night, while he is not busy with his other victims.
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Trying Again
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: based off of this request
Warnings: pregnancy fic (r pregnant), failed IVF (eventually successful), some angst, mentions of vomiting (morning sickness), minor player injury, cursing, lightly suggestive at the end,
WC: 5.8k
A/N: this ended up longer than I expected but oh well 🤷♀️ I promise it’s fuffy in parts despite all the warnings
You feel your chest tighten and your breath catch in your throat as you stare down at the test with the two letter word staring back at you.
Blinking hard you try to clear your vision from the tears building, hoping when your vision clears up the two letter word will be a three letter one. Unfortunately it’s not.
“I’m so sorry.” You voice cracks as you shake your head, not daring to look at your wife. Scared she’ll be mad, scared she’ll be angry, scared she’ll hate you. Of course those are all the irrational thoughts filling your mind, your wife would never be able to hate you.
“Shhhh. It’s okay babe.” You look up to Jessie she’s moving toward you to embrace you in a hug.
“I must be doing something wrong. I’ll do better, I’ll eat better, I also probably didn’t get enough sleep this round, training has been a been harder recently, maybe I should take time off”
“Hey,” Jessie’s hands come to grab your face, forcing you to look at her as she bends down next to you. “This”, she points at the negative pregnancy test, “is not your fault. You heard the doctor, you’re doing everything right, training is fine, it keeps you healthy and that’s what’s most important to have this baby.”
“Well it must be, the doctor also said a lot of people get pregnant on their first round, this is our third round Jessie!” You were yelling, not necessarily at Jessie but unfortunately she was the one person in the bathroom with you, causing her to be getting yelled at. You were angry, upset, disappointed. You felt like this was your fault.
“Babe.” She tried to comfort you as you go to stand up and leave the bathroom.
“Jess stop!” You push her hands off of you. Throwing the test aggressively into the trash bin and storming past Jessie out and into your bedroom, the door closing hard behind you.
That’s when the tears come streaming out. They’re warm as they leave two trails down your face. Not wanting to alert Jessie that you were bawling in your bedroom, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling your cries. You and Jessie had been trying for months, wanting to have a baby of your own.
The first time it was disappointing reading the negative test, but you were both still eager to try again. You waited a couple of weeks before starting your second round of IVF. Another round of shots, appointment, and being poked and prodded, but all was worth it when you would see the excitement on Jessie’s face when she talked about your future baby. The second failed test was discouraging, you had cried a little bit, unknown to Jessie. You had waited until you were alone in the shower before letting the tears flow. You felt terrible, you really thought the second time would work, but it didn't and it chipped away at your positive demeanor.
Jessie was your rock through the second failure, she spent time reading and researching, despite the doctors already giving you all the knowledge you needed. The two of you waited a few weeks before starting up the third round of hormones and appointments. Jessie cooked meals that were supposed to help your body, she made sure you drank enough water, you were never too cold or too warm, she was making sure everything was perfect.
Except it wasn’t perfect, the two of you had just failed again for a third time to start your family. It was less Jessie’s failure you thought to yourself, it was yours, you failed the both of you.
A soft knock comes at your door, you don’t say anything, knowing you well, Jessie enters despite the silence from you. She doesn’t say anything, she sits down next to you, letting out a sigh before grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly with her own. Her other hand comes up to gently push your head onto her shoulder. That’s how the two of you stayed, sitting in silence, your head resting on her shoulder, tears streaming down your face, only now you didn’t hold in the sobs. A small sniffle from Jessie indicating to you she was crying too.
You cry until you’re eyes hurt and your throat is burning. You and Jessie had slowly readjusted so that she was sitting with her head and back on the headboard, your head across her lap as she softly played with your hair. Neither of you spoke. Both understanding this wasn’t the time to have discussions about trying again, or taking a break from trying. The rhythmic strokes of Jessie’s fingers mixed with the exhaustion from crying overwhelm you and you fall asleep.
“Babe.” You wake to your wife’s quiet voice and her hand gently rubbing your back. “Babe, do you want to go to training? We don’t have to, we can talk with the training staff or come up with an excuse. But if we’re going we have to leave soon.”
You didn’t want to go to training, running around pretending normal was the last thing you needed after the morning you two had. But you also knew pretending to be normal was maybe what would help.
“Yeah let’s go.” You stand up quickly from the bed and move to the closet grabbing out your own and Jessie’s training bags. Jessie just watches, you can tell she’s worried about you, the way she’s watching you so closely, not saying anything, just observing.
Jessie watches you closely all through training. The other girls can tell you’re off as well, but you just shake them off, telling them you didn’t sleep well the night before and had woken up in a bad mood. Jessie confirms your story with everyone who asked her if you were alright. She was better at hiding her emotions, appearing the same as she did any other day, but you could tell she was in her head as well, missing some easier passes and you caught her staring off a few times.
When you get home you’re both already ready to go to bed, feeling emotionally and physically drained from the day.
“Hey babe?” Jessie’s sweet voice follows you down the hallway toward the bedroom.
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk?” It’s a sentence that would send fear through everyone in a relationship and even though you know exactly what she’s about to come talk about, the question of asking itself gets your stomach churning.
You knew she’d want to talk to make sure you were okay. She’d end up lying awake at night if she didn’t know you were doing alright. You didn’t want to be the reason she couldn’t sleep.
“Yeah.”
“I know it’s disappointing, the negative test, but it’s not the end of the world. We still have options, we can try again.”
“I’m so sick of trying and failing Jessie.” You sit down on the edge of the bed, flopping back to lay down putting your hands over your face.
“You’re not failing.” Jessie’s hand comes to sit on your thigh comfortingly.
“I am Jess, I’m not pregnant.”
“What do you want to do?” Her hand starts moving, gently rubbing your skin.
“I want a baby with you Jess!” You sit up turning to face your wife.
She’s got the look of pity in her eyes, her look is apologetic, as if you’re an injured baby animal, you know she doesn’t mean it in a pity way, but her gaze makes you feel weak. “I know you do, I want one with you too.”
You don’t say anything to Jessie, just looking at her, blinking hard to stop the tears that are threatening to leak out.
“Would you be open to trying again, if not that’s okay.” Jessie asks softly.
“I want to try until we have a baby.” Your tears were starting to fall from your eyes. Your hands were still covering your face trying to hide your tears from Jessie but your voice cracking gave you away.
“Oh honey.” Jessie’s hand leaves your thigh to pull your hands from your face. “My love, it’s okay, I know it’s hard, and I can’t imagine to feel what you’re feeling, but we’ll be okay. We can keep trying.”
You nod, your hands still hovering in front of your face, fighting against Jessie’s grip as she tries to pull them away from where you were hiding behind them.
“Let’s try again after the international break. You’ll get a rest and that’ll give your body enough time between cycles.”
“Okay, we’ll try again, but Jessie if the next one doesn’t work I don’t know if I’ll-”
“Shhh” Jessie doesn’t let you finish your sentence “the next time will work.” She plants a kiss on the top of your head before extending her hand to guide you to the bathroom where she changed you, helped wash your face, brush your teeth, get all ready for bed before she got herself ready and tucked you both into bed.
A week later you were enjoying a few extra hours of sleep, recently feeling more exhausted than normal, not having to get up for training when your sleep is interrupted by the bodily urge to throw up. You throw off the covers and sprint, just barely making it to the toilet. Normally you’d hear Jessie following behind you closely, rushing to get you a washcloth, hold your hair back, or rub your back. Unfortunately she had an early appointment with the trainer before some phone calls she had to make for the upcoming international break. She’d be gone most of the morning until early afternoon.
“Ugh.” You groan to yourself, wiping your face and grabbing your toothbrush and mouthwash. You go back to bed after cleaning yourself up, it was the day after a game and you didn’t have training or anywhere to be. You wished Jessie was back to hold you and rub your back as you drifted back to sleep.
When you woke up you still felt exhausted and nauseated. You shoot Jessie a text letting her know you weren’t feeling well.
Another urge to throw up comes and you take off for the bathroom. This time there’s nothing to void from your stomach and you end up just spitting into the toilet. Still feeling nauseous you decide to just sit in the bathroom for a while.
As you sit on the cool bathroom floor, you noticed the wrapper of a pregnancy test poking out the bottom of the cabinet. That’s when the wheels started turning in your brain. The fatigue, the nausea, you hadn’t gotten your period yet but you weren’t phased by that due to the hormone changes from the IVF injections.
Fuck it, you thought, I’ll take it, it’s not like my day can get worse.
You sit up, grab the test and take it. You set your phone timer and wait. When your phone rings you grab the test, barely looking at expecting the same “NO” you had gotten over and over. You go to throw the test in the trash before you realize what you read wasn’t a two lettered word. You slowly lift the test back up to your face, the word YES staring back at you.
“Holy shit.” You throw the test into the trash in panic. You were pregnant.
You grab the test back out the trash realizing you needed that, you had to show Jessie. You then proceed to take every remaining test you could find in the house, 12 total pregnancy tests, all reading positive.
You run into the closet, rummaging looking for the small package you bought and hid when you first were trying to get pregnant. A small Canada jersey, England jersey, and Chelsea jersey, your last names across the back of all of them. You went a little overboard you’ll admit, but you couldn’t help it.
Finally you were getting to use them. You grabbed them and hurried to the office where gift wrapping supplies sat most of the time unused unless for a birthday or the holidays. You grabbed a plain box, not wanting to give away any of the surprise to your wife before she opened it.
You put in blue and pink tissue, placing the jerseys and all 12 pregnancy tests inside the box. You placed it on the kitchen counter and sat down at the stool, and waited.
Jessie wasn’t home for another 2 hours but you remained, you didn’t know what else to do with yourself so you sat, staring at the front door.
When the door swung open Jessie stopped before closing the door.
“What are you doing?” She cocks an eyebrow at you.
“I made you a little something.” You slide the box slowly in her direction. She closes the door behind her, putting down the backpack she had and taking off her coat before moving toward you. She places a kiss on your lips and then pulls the box over.
“You didn’t have to get me something baby.” She smells sweet and like a coffee shop, likely where she was completing her work for the day.
“Well I did.”
She opens the box and you feel yourself start holding your breath, waiting for her reaction. She’s silent as her hand, that you notice has a soft shake to it, reaches out grabbing one of the tests, removing it from the box. Her mouth is open as she turns to look at you.
“Are you serious?” She’s got tears in her eyes.
“Yes.” You nod, your voice getting caught in your throat as you choke back tears.
She grabs you hard, pulling you off the stool and into a tight hug. You can hear her own heart pounding out of her chest. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“How?” She points at the tests. “How did you, when did you?”
“I threw up this morning like I told you, and then with the fatigue I’ve been having the past week, I was sitting on the floor and saw the test in the cabinet, things kinda clicked, I also haven’t had my period but I thought I was just off coming down from the hormones, figured I’d try a test, and then when it came out positive I took every single one we own.” You gesture to the pile of tests.
“We're going to have a baby.” Jessie finally lets out a tear.
“We are.”
“Okay so we need to set up appointments, we need to start figuring out how along you are, get prenatals started, I should get us some parenting books, we should look into cribs,” Jessie starts rambling about the baby, her excitement taking over.
“Jess, slow down.” You put your hand on your wife’s arm. “We’ll set up an appointment, and go from there.”
The two of you spent the rest of the evening cuddling, Jessie couldn’t keep her hands off of your stomach, where your baby bump will eventually grow. She had her hands under your shirt all evening as the two of you laid on the couch.
The next few weeks were the same, you had gone to the doctor, gotten the pregnancy confirmed with a blood test and started on vitamins, and all that comes with being pregnant. Jessie had bought all the parenting books, reading them obsessively every day. She got up with you when you were sick in the mornings, holding your hair and bringing you water. She’d cuddle you back into bed afterward, letting you rest until the very last minute before you had to be up.
“What am I going to do without you?” You groaned as Jessie placed a cool washcloth to your forehead and one to the back of your neck.
“I know babe but you’ll be alright. It’s only 7 days.” The international window had arrived and you and Jessie, while both going to the same location for friendlies, you would have to travel, sleep, and exist in separate worlds for a while.
“Plus Niamh is your roommate, she’ll be good with you.”
“Or she’ll avoid me thinking I’m sick when I puke every morning.” Your hand wildly gestures to the toilet you sat in front of. The two of you had yet to tell any besides trainers about the baby.
“We could tell her? We could tell everyone? I mean the Chelsea training staff know and so does England.”
“But is it too early to tell friends?” You knew Jessie was worried, you had been told that with the amount of tries it took, there was a chance the pregnancy wouldn’t last. That had scared both of you for the first few weeks until at your most recent appointment the doctor informed you that you had made it through the riskiest time period for the baby.
“I mean I’m 10 weeks, the doctors said it was pretty safe after 8 weeks if we wanted to tell people. I’m not opposed, plus at some point I’m going to start showing.” You place your hand on your waist where your bump had just barely started, something you could excuse as minor bloating.
“Okay.”
“Should we tell the Chelsea girls today?” You look up at Jessie.
“Yeah we can. If you want to babe.” She places a kiss on your forehead and removed both of the washcloths, gently wiping your skin as she does.
“Okay.”
You and Jessie both caught Emma before the start of training asking to speak to her. You told her the news, she congratulated you both and told her to let you know if either of you needed anything. She also said she’d gather the girls for you at the end of practice so that you both can talk to everyone.
“Alright girls, good work today! I need everyone in the conference room after you get your shoes changed, it’ll be a quick meeting I promise.” Emma flashes a smile at you, unknowing to everyone else that the look was intentional.
You walked into the conference room with the rest of the team. Emma stood at the front.
“Okay I promised this wouldn’t be long, so you two want to come up here?” She looks over at where you and Jessie were sat.
You look at Jessie and stand up. You’re not sure why but your nerves are starting to kick in, you knew they’d be happy for you, they were your friends, but it was still nerve wracking.
“Um, hi,” you give a small wave to the crowd of your teammates. A lot of them are staring back at you with confused faces, some looking worried.
“So, Jessie and I um, well” sensing your nerves, Jessie grabs your hand giving you a squeeze and a smile. “We’re um, we’re having a baby, I’m pregnant.”
The room erupts in front of you, shouts of excitement from your teammates, some of them clapping, they all start making their way to you and Jessie, giving you both their congratulations and hugs. The girls asked how long you’ve known, what the due date was, when you’d take off time from work, even Sam clapped Jessie on the back making a joke about her strong swimmers. It was a little overwhelming but you realized just how loved your baby was going to be.
“Niamh, come here.” You wave over your international teammate. “So obviously we’re gonna be roommates, I can send you over information, but just as a heads up, I do get sick in the mornings sometimes, if that’s a problem I can get our rooms switched.”
“That’s fine, doesn’t bother me, I’m so excited for you two!” Her arms reach around yours and Jessie’s neck pulling you in for a hug.
“Thanks Niamh.” You wander off to tell your other England teammates to keep their mouths shut until you have the chance to address that team as well. As you walk away you can already hear Jessie scolding Niamh.
“You better take good care of her Niamh I swear, don’t let her do anything silly, help her if she needs something. If I find out you weren’t good to her I’ll personally harm you.” Jessie wasn’t a very threatening person normally, she was relaxed, calm, laidback but as soon as she knew you were pregnant she took on an incredibly defensive approach, considering everything to be a risk to the mother of her unborn baby and the baby itself.
“I’ll take care of her Jess, don’t you worry.”
Despite Niamh’s promise, Jessie was still paranoid being away from you. She had never left you for more than a couple hours since learning you were pregnant. You were a mess when she had to leave, her flight a couple hours before yours. Tears streaming down your face as you walked her to the door, holding onto her, nearly forcing her to stay.
“Baby, I have to go, I can’t miss my flight.” She held you tight as you clung onto her.
“I know, I’m just going to miss you.” It was a weird feeling, you knew you were being overdramatic, but you couldn’t help it. You hardly ever cried when Jessie left, you knew she’d come back, you’d see her soon, and you’d never cried when you were flying to the same location.
“I love you, I will FaceTime you and Niamh tonight. You need to stop crying honey, you’re going to get dehydrated.”
“I love you.” You sobbed, getting the words out between deep breaths sending yourself into a coughing fit. You eventually let Jessie go and she left, leaving you to finish packing for your own flight. You throw in the tiny England jersey, Jessie had taken the Canada one, both of you wanting to tell your national teams at some point.
Over the next few days at camp Jessie was insistent on texting you every hour or two to check on you, she also was busy texting Niamh, LJ, Hannah, Jess, and Fran, making sure they all were checking on you. You felt bad for them having to respond to your wife’s texts but you knew they were happy to keep Jessie in the loop with how you were doing.
Everything was going well, until your second training session of the day. You started running laps, suddenly feeling nauseous, dizzy, a cramping in your stomach.
“Niamh.” You reach your hand out to the girl next to you, slowing down.
“You alright?”
“I don’t know, I feel sick.”
“Okay, here let’s go over to the bench.” Niamh wraps her arm around your waist, walking with you over to the bench with the trainers. The trainers, knowing your situation start assessing you. They decide to bring you inside. A few minutes later there’s a knock at the training room door. Leah enters.
“Hey what’s going on? You alright?”
“Yeah, no I’m good.” You try and brush her off.
“Dehydrated?” You shake your head at her. “Then what’s going on?”
“Its just a thing.” You look at the trainer, hoping he’ll maybe help your lie, he doesn’t.
“What thing?” She then quickly adds “if you don’t want to tell me you actually don’t have to, just as your captain, I like knowing what’s going on with my girls.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Your eyes start to well with tears. “Jessie and I are having a baby.” You can’t help but smile as the words come out of your mouth.
“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” Leah pulls you into a tight hug. “Does anyone else know?”
“We told the Chelsea girls just last week and the training staff has known since we knew, but no one else.”
“That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you.”
“I want to tell the rest of the team but I’m thinking maybe at the end of the week after the game against Canada, that way Jess can be there.”
“Up to you two obviously. But you’re good to play?” She looks between you and the trainer still by your side. He nods.
“Yeah, at least for now, once I start having a bigger bump probably not. I just need to take it a bit easy, but it’s just standard symptoms, nothing concerning.”
Leah congratulates you again and exits the training room. Before returning to the pitch you find your phone with a slew of unread texts from Jessie.
Jessie 🥰: hi, I know you’re training, hope you’re doing well
Jessie 🥰: drink enough water and electrolytes please
Jessie 🥰: make sure you eat something too
Jessie 🥰: I have to go to training soon, keep taking care of yourself and our baby
You: Hi, I did get sick at training today, just so you know, I’m okay though, I got checked out by the staff. Leah now knows as well, she came to check on me and I told her.
You return to training with clearance from the doctor. You take it easy, the rest of the team coming to check on you. You and Leah had discussed just saying you ate too close to the start of training and that’s why you got sick. That deterred most of the questions for the day but as the week went on and you got sick a few more times which then brought up the questions again.
The end of the week comes quicker than you expect and suddenly you’re lined up in the tunnel, staring across the hallway to the back of your wife’s head. You were supposed to be playing all 90’ assuming you felt good enough to do so, you had a long chat with Leah and Sarina about your playing time, they both left it up to you on your minutes.
The game was physical from the start, thankfully you spent most of the first half being guarded by Jessie, she kept her distance except when you had the ball, then she’d get physical but you could still tell she was holding back. By the end of the half you were ahead 2-1.
You agreed to start the second half, still feeling good, a little fatigued but no more than you normally would for running around for 45 minutes.
It was going well until a corner kick for Canada came. You went up to jump as Jessie kicked the ball in for her team. When you did you got body slammed by two Canadian players, someone’s elbow hitting your lower stomach, unintentionally of course, but still causing you to hit the ground hard, clutching your waist.
“Fuck.” You groan into the grass under you.
You hear the whistle a second later, Niamh and Lucy both are by your side, flagging over the training staff.
“Hey they’re going to come help you.” You hear Niamh who is squatted down by your head.
“No I’m good, just knocked the wind out of me.” You try and wave off the staff and your own teammates.
“Okay, we’ll just get you some water, just stay sitting for a second. We’re not in a rush, take your time.” Lucy directs you.
“No, you should probably get checked out.” You hear Niamh say to you and Lucy. She gives you a look, widening her eyes slightly hinting at the secret she knew.
The trainers join the three of you. Asking you what’s going on, how you feel, what you need.
“Take her off!” You hear your wife coming up behind you.
Janine is quick behind her, grabbing her arm. “Jess let them take care of it, you’re not a doctor.” Jessie manages to wiggle out of Janine’s grip, storming toward you, still yelling at the England staff.
“I’m telling you, take her off.” She then turns to you, “you need to get looked at, and you know it.” You can tell she’s trying not to expose the secret you both held.
“Fleming, it’s not that big of a deal, she’s fine, go back to your side.” Lucy steps between you and where Jessie stood above you. You already know that Lucy’s actions are about to piss your wife off.
“Lucy, kindly fuck off, she’s my wife, I know her better than you, she need to come off.”
Lucy turns to you eyes wide, “What’s up with her?” You just wave her off.
“Take her out!” Jessie shouts again. You’d never seen her like this. Red in the face angry, hands clenched hard at her sides, shouting not only at the staff, your teammates, and you.
“Jess,” you try to calm her down. But she just turns her shouting to be directed at you.
“No, this isn’t something we’re discussing, you got hit, you need to be taken out.” She’s stern in her words, giving you a glare.
“Okay.” You nod at her, seeing her like this was making you realize that despite already feeling better, your stomach did hurt and you should probably get checked. You look at the staff. “I’ll go off.”
Jessie doesn’t say anything else to you or anyone and just walks away, returning to her team.
“Let’s get you checked out,” the trainer helps you up. You walk off the pitch, getting replaced. You walk all the way down the tunnel and into the training room.
The trainer and doctor on the staff help check you out, even using the ultrasound finding your baby’s heartbeat. They give you the all clear but advise you to schedule an appointment for when you get back home to be safe.
You walk back out to the bench just as the game is ending. The scoreline had not changed while you were away, England had come out victorious. You look around the pitch as your teammates celebrate the victory with each other.
“All good?” Sarina finds you as you wander toward Niamh, not being able to locate Jessie.
“Yeah, heartbeat was good, no concerns. I’m going to tell the girls I think, I want them to know.”
“That’s great! Good to hear.” She pats you on the back before turning to chat with Canada’s coach.
When you approach Niamh she points across the field where your wife stood being interviewed. “She’s over there, you better go see her, she was a mess after you went off. You’re good?”
“Yep all good, both of us” you wink and gently pat your stomach, subtle to those who didn’t know but to Niamh it told her everything she needed to know. You and the baby were good.
You make your way over toward Jessie as you hear her thank the interviewer, taking off the headset and handing it back to her. She catches your eye and starts running toward you.
“Are you okay?” She’s still frantic.
“I’m good, the baby is good, there’s no bruising or bleeding, they used the ultrasound to check and even got the heartbeat.”
“Good.” She pulls you into a tight embrace “I’m sorry I yelled. I just saw you on the ground and I panicked.”
“I know babe, it’s okay.”
“I was rude.”
“You were being protective, it’s okay. Lucy will be fine, especially once she knows.”
“Still want to tell them tonight?” She pulls back from the long hug to look at you.
“Yeah I think that’s good.”
Back in the changing room you texted Jessie to make her way over. As soon as you hit send you stand up, gathering your teammates attention.
“Hey everyone real quick. I have something I want to talk about.” There’s a knock on the door “it’s open!” You shout and Jessie’s head pokes around the corner. She walks over to where you stood, giving quick hellos to everyone. “Jessie is here because this is her announcement too.” You take a deep breath. “So the reason, this one,” you point a finger at Jessie “was so adamant about me coming off after I was hit was because, I’m pregnant.”
Similarly to the Chelsea room, there are cheers of excitement, some whistles, and a long line of hugs to be given. Lucy gives you a hug first and then moves over to Jessie.
“Lucy I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to be so rude out there I just” you hear Jessie babbling to your teammate, trying to apologize while you chatted with Leah and Alessia.
Lucy is quick to accept your wife’s apology. “We’re all good, you were protecting her. Protecting both of them. You’re going to be a good Mom, Fleming.”
Jessie blushes and smiles, “Thank you.”
Once you get a chance to talk to your teammates and they all get to ask how far along you are, if you knew if it was a girl or boy, when you were due, all the same questions you went through already with the Chelsea girls, you both head over into the Canadian locker room.
“Hi!” Jessie waves at everyone, “really quick I wanted to talk and sort of explain my uncharacteristic behavior this week and especially today.”
You’re not sure where she’s going with this so you let her continue.
“A lot of you noticed I had my nose in my phone a lot this camp and I may have seemed a little bit more spacey than usual. I appreciate you all for worrying about me and checking in to make sure I was okay. I am okay. Um, and then today I freaked out on the pitch at another team's player and staff, and that was unacceptable on my behalf. I apologize that I did that. The reason I’ve been on my phone and was so distraught when she went down.” She points at you. “This is my wife, by the way for those of you who have maybe never met her.” She adds and her comment gets a couple laughs.
“Anyway, the reason I’ve been weird this week is, she’s pregnant, we’re going to have a baby.” Jessie pulls the small Canada jersey out from behind her back holding it up for the team to see.
In identical fashion the room becomes a quick celebration, hugs and questions from all Jessie’s teammates.
Janine makes her way up. “I can’t believe you two kept a secret for that long, you both separately blabbed to me about the engagement rings you bought for each other within the hour of buying them. I’m so happy for you guys.” She hugs you both.
“Thanks Janine.” You both thank her.
“She’s going to be a crazy protective mother isn’t she?” Janine nudges you, you both watch as Jessie goes to talk with her other teammates, them all gushing over the tiny baby jersey.
“It seems like it, she’s never acted like that before.” You answer, before adding “it was actually really hot.”
“Gross, I’m walking away now.” Janine leaves you standing alone as she goes and finds Jessie again, whispering something in her ear that has Jessie turning around to look at you, her face with a slight blush on it, she gives you a wink and you realize what Janine had just told your wife. You walk over, giving her a kiss before you have to return to your own locker room.
When you get home the next day you both are exhausted from the trip and you fall asleep almost immediately. The next morning, you wake up not feeling nauseous for the first time in weeks, leading you to celebrate appropriately with your wife. Meaning you got to show her just how hot you thought she looked when she was being protective of you and your baby.
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jflem#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#canwnt x reader
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superstar.
pairings: oscar piastri x uni student!reader.
faceclaim: _jannah on ig!
summary: lando knows oscar is hiding something from him. he attempts to go on the hunt but unbeknownst to him, the truth is an open secret. he’s dating you, the incredibly smart, talented child prodigy.
— part five of my 500 followers celebration ♡ —
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liked by oscarpiastri, friend1 and 12,728 others.
yourusername: travelling is cool and all but i miss coming back to pepper. show jumping is my one true love. <3
friend1: babe omg where did you go?
->yourusername: internship in new york! very blessed and the pizzas were incredible.
user56: where is ur bf? miss his comments on ur vlogs.
-> yourusername: he’s working!! hopefully he can rejoin us again soon <3
user1: she’s living the life.
-> user7: being pretty, smart and athletic? that could have been me if bed rotting wasn’t so addictive.
-> user9: me if my mama didn’t perm my hair 😒
user2: oscar… babe 🤨 why are u in her likes…
-> user5: she has good study tips! maybe he’s into that content?
-> user2: girl i think he wanna do a different kind of studying w/ her if u get my drift…..
-> user5: ?? virtual or in person i’m confused…
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liked by yourbffname, logansargeant and 32,838 others.
yourusername: my two weeks off have been very productive as you can see.
yourbffname: omg is that *****
-> yourusername: you don’t have to censor him 😭
-> yourbffname: i don’t like typing men’s names. i’m allergic.
friend1: you look so pretty!!
user2: TWO WEEKS NO Y/N VLOG…. SHAKING FROM WITHDRAWAL…
-> yourusername: i’m coming back next week! <3
oscarpiastri: are you single?
-> yourusername: no.
-> oscarpiastri: damn.. i hope he dies.
-> yourusername: WHAT?!!
user7: not oscar flirting with y/n when she has a bf?
-> user27: he’s a homewrecker ew :/
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liked by landonorris, user76 and 1,288,929 others.
yourusername: date night <3
photo creds — oscarpiastri
user12: not oscar third wheeling? 😭
-> oscarpiastri: use ur critical thinking skills. thanks. 👍🏻
user3: MORE BF VLOGS? 😁
-> yourusername: he said yes 😍‼️
user6: being a gorgeous show jumping debate president who studies at a top ten university on a full scholarship with a hot formula one driver bf? i’m so jealous!!
-> user9: real 😩 living vicariously through her
user90: oscarpiastri have you met pepper the horse yet?
-> oscarpiastri: i have. she loves me.
-> yourusername: only because you bribe her with apples and she loves apples. he classically conditioned her.
logansargeant: NOOOO THE SECRET IS OUT…. lando was going to get me a car next….
landonorris: if i buy you a car yourusername will you tell me all of oscar’s embarrassing stories?
-> yourusername: i am very loyal. i will not sell out so easily…
-> yourusername: but… just for curiosity sake. what car?
-> oscarpiastri: NO 😟😰
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taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @alexmarie29 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @cuteskz @purplephantomwolf @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @moviecritc @wildflowermarns @lichterfee @d3kstar @f1kenzzz @ravisinghs-wife @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @ajvaix @au-ghosttype @thehistoryone @raevyng @colmathgames2 @iloveyou3000morgan @namgification @formulaal @firelily-mimi @lemon-lav @67-angelofthelordme-67 @snapeeballsack @bernelflo @mehrmonga (wanna be removed? let me know via ask!)
— want to join my taglist? join here!
#jayde’s works ☆#ham1lton 500 ☾#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#formula one smau#formula one#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x y/n#op81#op81 x reader#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x you#op81 smau#op81 fic
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sparkling juice
words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad
“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.
“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.
“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.
“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.
“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.
you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”
“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.
rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.
“wanna try some juice with me baby?”
“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”
you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”
“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”
“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.
“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”
rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.
“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.
“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”
“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”
“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”
“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”
“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”
“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.
“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”
“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”
“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.
“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.
“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.”
you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.
“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.
“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”
“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”
“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.
“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”
“mhm.”
“and we have been dating for over a year now.”
“yes.”
“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.
“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.
“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.
“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.
“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”
“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.
rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.
“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.
“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.
“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..
“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”
“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.”
“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.
“okay.” you say.
rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.
“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.
he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.
you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.
rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.
“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”
“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.
“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.
“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.
“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.
“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”
“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.
he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.
“i think im close.” you say.
“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.
your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.
you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.
rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.
“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.
“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.
-- six months later --
“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen.
“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.
you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.
“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.
rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”
#i wrote this on my phone so there are probably a lot of mistakes#sorry!#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron blurb
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Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?
a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror
warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything
-
TOUCHED
You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.
You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.
You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."
You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.
He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.
You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.
"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.
"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"
You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.
You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.
He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.
"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.
PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.
It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.
You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.
-
You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.
Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.
You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.
You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.
You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.
You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.
He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.
Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.
-
You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.
You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.
You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.
Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.
"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.
"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of her hands quicken. You try to stop them putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.
"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.
"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.
In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.
He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."
You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."
"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."
It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one.
Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.
The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you.
Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes wide as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.
It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.
Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.
"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.
"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."
You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."
-
In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.
Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.
You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.
Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.
You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.
"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.
The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.
You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.
"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.
You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.
"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."
"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."
Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."
"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.
"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.
Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt growled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.
"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.
"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.
You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.
"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.
"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.
The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.
Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.
You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.
You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.
He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.
"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"
"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.
"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.
Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.
"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.
"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"
With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.
The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.
Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.
The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.
"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.
You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back faster.
Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.
The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.
"You know what you're fucking—"
"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.
" 'because it always has to be your way—"
"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"
"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"
You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.
You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.
"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.
They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.
Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.
"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."
Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."
Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."
And they were gone.
You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.
"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display affection, or whatever."
He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.
"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.
"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."
You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."
You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."
The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.
"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.
He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.
"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.
"Sorry about that too."
He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.
"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.
"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."
He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."
"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.
"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"
"Promise."
"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."
"You got it, love."
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MR. FUNNY GUY — l.heeseung
PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 3.8k+
WARNINGS: a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.
NOTES: this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!
masterlist
Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.
He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.
Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics.
Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.
Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.
What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.
At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted.
Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.
"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."
So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.
A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.
But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.
"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it.
"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."
"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.
You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.
"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.
"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.
It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?
Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.
And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.
Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.
"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.
"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"
"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"
"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.
Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.
"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.
"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.
"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.
"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.
"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.
"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.
"I said you could all make me stop talking—"
"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."
"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.
At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.
"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"
"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."
"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.
What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?
"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."
"Why?"
"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.
"Yeah, he's right," Jake said.
"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.
"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.
"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."
"Yes, kill the three of you."
"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."
"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.
"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.
"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.
He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.
"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.
"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.
Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.
"What's going on?" you asked.
"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."
"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."
"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.
"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"
"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"
Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.
"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.
"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."
"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"
"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.
It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.
Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.
"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.
He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.
And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.
"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."
"But—"
"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.
"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."
"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings.
He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.
"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.
"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."
None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?
"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.
"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.
"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.
For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.
Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.
"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.
You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.
"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?
"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.
"Anything," you said.
It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.
"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.
At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.
"What do you mean?"
Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.
"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."
"Does that bother you?"
No. He should answer, to appear tougher.
"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."
He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.
"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.
"Why?" he asked.
You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.
"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."
"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.
"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."
"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.
"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."
It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.
"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.
"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.
"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."
"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.
"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"
Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.
"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."
"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.
"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.
"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.
"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."
"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.
From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.
"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny man."
You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.
A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen fluff#heeseung fluff#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#lee heeseung#enhypen au#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen masterlist#lee heeseung fluff#heeseung fanfics#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x you#my writing#gojo imagine#jjk imagine#jjk x y/n
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Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
Masterlist
“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.”
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him.
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now.
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces.
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up.
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair.
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?”
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later.
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal.
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away.
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa.
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day.
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place.
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan.
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan.
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name.
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air.
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes imagine#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#hockey imagine#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks#hughes brothers#quinn hughes#elias pettersson
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Summer Heat
Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.
Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)
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“Why did we break up?”
Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.
“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.
You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is…
“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”
“Why not?” His voice is teasing.
You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”
Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.”
“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”
“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?”
“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”
Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”
Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”
“So why did we break up?”
He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.
“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”
Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”
“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”
“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them.
You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination.
Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin.
“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”
Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”
You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”
It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.
Are you over it?
You kind of have to be.
“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you.
You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”
“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”
“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”
“You’ve always loved teasing me.”
“Maybe I still do?”
“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”
“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again.
“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”
You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”
“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”
You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.
He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.
You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty.
“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”
Another kiss. “No.”
You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.
“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”
“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”
Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”
“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”
“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”
“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”
“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”
“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”
You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.”
You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.
“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”
“Like what?”
“Your mouth—”
You hit his thigh again.
He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”
“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”
“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”
“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”
“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”
“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”
“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”
“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”
“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”
“I wasn’t.” You weren’t.
Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.
“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.”
“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”
“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”
He’s right.
“No.”
“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”
You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask.
Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised.
“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”
Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”
“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right.
“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”
“How convenient.”
“It really is, isn’t it?”
You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.
You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex.
“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.”
“Still?”
“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”
You feel a sharp poke in your heart.
“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”
And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years.
“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”
You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”
“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”
“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”
Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”
You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”
“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”
“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now.
“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”
“Then kiss me now, if you want.”
You’re older now. More mature now.
Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.
Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love.
He mirrors you, eyes still unsure.
“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”
Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”
You nod.
The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.
He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later.
Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.
You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more.
His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder.
You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”
“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”
“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“I don’t care.”
“I care.”
His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”
You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”
And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.
“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness.
“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”
His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.
His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.
“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.
You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips.
“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”
His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”
Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too.
You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself.
You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy.
“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated.
Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment.
“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.
“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you.
He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat.
You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum.
Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.
“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”
“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”
“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good.
“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer.
“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you.
Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it.
“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.
“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”
He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”
#bts#bts smut#Kim taehyung#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#bts fics#taehyung fic#Drabble requests#taehyung x reader#taehyung drabble#bts drabble
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house of addams (1)
— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader
— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut
— 🗝️ word count: 4.3k
— 🍄 summary: hired to look into the mysterious deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, you soon meet a certain gang of oddballs who help you connect the dots. and NO, you are NOT taking a liking to them.
— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader, cozy small town mystery/addams family vibes, botanist!yoongi, magical absurdity, bookshop owner!namjoon, barista!jin
— 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! directly influenced by this fic on ao3 by tinyratthief, which is loosely based on the addams family.
series m.list/schedule → next chapter
chpt. 1: new digs
september 16, 2004
If this job has taught you one thing, it’s that the laws of truth can and will be bent by anyone with enough concentrated effort. People come to you to find very specific truths; birth parents, cheating spouses, the details of shady business deals.
But if this job has taught you one thing, it's that the truth will also reveal itself to anyone with enough concentrated effort.
Though, there's always a handful of cases that force you to delve deep into things you’d rather leave buried. Like the person in Oregon who didn't show up in any photographs. Or the small town in Maryland with the strange, centuries-old secret society.
You’ve seen sides of human nature that have left you cynical, distrusting. Some have called you “dead inside,” but you’re not here to brag. Naturally, you are excellent at your job.
And when the Mayor of Farrow’s End, a sleepy town with enough missing persons cases to warrant a Netflix documentary, contacted you about a possible case, you accepted almost instantly.
Even her first correspondence and initial offer were strange. She stated a preference to discuss the finer details in person and in person only, which to you immediately suggested that the entire investigation would be a matter of confidentiality.
You were proven right when you met with her a week later. And while being proven right is usually one of your favorite things, you didn’t exactly expect this.
The offer: investigative services regarding (but not limited to) local missing persons/homicides, ecological disturbances, environmental chemical imbalances. etc.
In exchange for: monthly salary, rent support, covered business expenses.
And above all, everything must remain off the books.
The salary along with the rent support is very generous considering what you're used to, but you don’t tell the Mayor that. You do inform her that, while you wear many hats, you are not an ecologist, nor a chemist.
Mayor Summerbee, a middle-aged Asian woman with a sweet smile and even warmer eyes, informs you that you will have access to the local University’s college of natural sciences. She gives you the contact information for one Min Yoongi, a botanist who works in the school's research department.
Then she gives you the contact information for one Kim Taehyung, the town coroner and pathologist. Apparently, both of them will be available for consultation.
She is eager, maybe even desperate, smiling at you with an urgent sheen in her eyes.
When you accept her offer, shaking her hand with your usual firm grip, she seems to exhale in relief.
You move to Farrow’s End by the end of the week. It’s not as if you have much to move, just a trunkful of books and a handful of duffel bags. You’ve always moved around for work, and even if you didn’t, staying in one place for too long makes you nervous.
Your bags hit the pavement beside your boots as you survey your new home. It's a small, quaint house. The paint is faded but the architectural structure is sturdy. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room. The whole place is in a slight state of disrepair, but you can't complain.
You spend the next day cleaning and unpacking, which doesn't take long since you leave most of your books in the trunk. You're exploring the town by the end of the afternoon.
The town square, though full of shops and businesses, is nearly barren. A few civilians putter around, their faces weathered and reflective of the gloom in the air. They stare at you as you pass by, a cocktail of curiosity and slight suspicion.
The next thing you notice is the posters. They're everywhere, on the crumbling brick walls, stuck on lampposts, taped to the windows, all displaying a variety of subjects. Events at the University, local night markets, antiques for sale.
But there are a few that stick out. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE LAKE! Sign the petition to restrict land access →
HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? You're not alone, contact a psychic today!
BEWARE! DO NOT FEED LOCAL WILDLIFE.
Though, what's more strange to you is what you don't see. There are barely any missing person posters, and the few that you do see appear to have been ripped away.
Work begins now, you think to yourself as you snap some photos of several posters, flapping in the cold wind.
You pop into the general store to pick up some essentials, and the store clerk immediately recognizes that you're not a local.
He asks where you're from, you reply with the standard answer: a city not too far but not too close. He asks what you're doing here, you reply with the standard answer: you're a journalist. You add in the suggestion that you're working with the University about a story, and he doesn't question any further.
You're not sure if it's because he takes the hint or because he loses interest.
During the drive home, you notice something looming in the distance. Atop the highest hill is a dark house, with spires and towers rising from the tops of spindly trees. Even from here, you can see that the architecture is old and ornate, almost ancient in a hypnotic way. You're fairly certain you can see a murder of crows circling above.
An unusual feeling hangs around the house, like there's some kind of aura surrounding it. Welcoming some, yet blocking others.
Very strange indeed.
You spend the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace, using the flickering orange light to skim over newspaper clippings.
No, the house does not have a heating system. But you don't mind too much, you have plenty of wood and warm clothes.
Five missing and three dead in the last year. Local law enforcement has done everything they could with what they had to work with, which apparently wasn't much. Scattered locations, no visible connection between the victims, and an alarming lack of evidence.
Eyelids heavy, you leave the papers scattered across the floor and head to bed, already looking forward to tomorrow's first coffee.
september 17, 2004
The University appears to be just as old as the rest of the town. Original wood, aged stone, curved iron accents. The brick walkway is slick with morning rain, and the sky is swirling with fog.
Perfect weather, it makes you ready to get to work.
The directory stated that Min Yoongi would be in Montgomery Hall, the natural sciences building, either in the greenhouse or in one of the labs, according to the TA you talked to earlier on the phone.
It takes some wandering, but what you like about this place is that people don't seem to notice your presence as much as they do in town. Out there, you're an easily identifiable outsider. Here, you're just another passerby with a purpose.
You find him in one of the lab rooms, tucked into a little nook that's encased with plastic sheeting, dotted with beads of moisture. The small space is crowded with greenery, big pots of tall plants with fanning leaves, draping vines from wall planters, seedlings in little trays.
Through the condensation dripping down the plastic walls, you can see that he's spraying the plants down with water, wearing a classic white coat.
You're indulging in your bad habit again. Your footsteps are notoriously quiet (you've been told), and you (apparently) have a tendency to sneak up on people and observe them for several minutes before they notice that you are there.
But it's a skill you delight in.
The man is of average height, thin, black hair, delicate features. You notice that the soles of his boots are caked with mud, and his skin is dewy from the humidifiers pumping moisture into the room.
"You already know my opinion on this," you hear him say, muffled by the spray of the water.
For a moment, you think he's talking to you, that he's rejecting your case before you've even presented it to him. But he isn't facing you, and his tone is decidedly casual, like he's talking to an old friend.
"It's bad for the others, anyway," he continues. "Don't wiggle your trigger hairs at me like that."
A pause, the water flow stops. Then a sigh of defeat.
"Fine, one puff. Then you quit pouting, got it?"
There's the sound of shuffling, then the fwick of a lighter being ignited.
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step forward to peer through the slit in the plastic sheeting.
There's a Venus fly trap on one of the shelves, and between the jaws of one of the trap mouths, is a lit cigarette.
The man's head piques up when you enter his field of vision. Eyes widening, he looks like a cat that's been caught off guard.
He looks between you and the plant several times. You're fairly certain you see the tip of the cigarette glow ember, as if the plant were actually inhaling.
The man snatches the cigarette away and crushes it beneath the wet sole of his boot.
"Nasty habit," he finally says with a nervous chuckle. An awkward, straight-mouthed smile crosses his face, making his cheeks puff out slightly.
"Min Yoongi?" you ask.
"Yes, ma'am," he responds politely.
"I'm ______," you say, holding out a hand to shake.
He shuffles forward, his cold slim fingers meeting yours.
"Ah, the mayor mentioned that you'd be around."
That throws you a bit, because from what you've gathered about this case, you assumed that the mayor didn't want to be associated with it.
"Yes, would you mind filling me in on some of the ecological disturbances that have been going on in town?"
It's as if the question sends ants crawling down his spine. His neutral smile dissipates into an anxious twitch of his lips. He turns the hose back on and resumes spritzing the plants.
"What do you want to know?" he asks, a new tension in his voice.
Odd.
"Well," you start, "The mayor tells me that locals have been complaining about strange mushrooms invading their yards, increased acidity in their soil. Would you know anything about that?"
His eyebrows are knitted as he dampens the leaves of a spiraling fern.
"Mushrooms are really just the fruit of fungi, they bloom like flowers when the conditions are just right. Moisture, shade, an abundance of organic material, stuff like that. When it comes to the acidity, there's a variety of factors. All the rainfall recently leads to leaching, and the increased use of fertilizers causes nitrification. It's pretty standard."
You raise an eyebrow. He's deflecting.
"People have been saying that these mushrooms have been particularly hard to get rid of."
Yoongi 's brows furrow as if he's thinking hard.
"Fungi are tricky like that. We don't know much about them, really. They're their own class of life form. It could be a particularly stubborn strain."
"There's also been some unusual plant growth, creeping vines or the like. Very resistant to herbicides, apparently."
He pauses, considers it.
"Hmm," he mutters, the nozzle of the hose going lax in his hand.
“Also,” you continue, trying to further engage his curiosity. “There's been several cases of strange root rot?”
You add a questioning tone to your voice, gauging his reaction. Apparently, he hasn’t heard about it, because he looks up at you with the same question in his eyes.
“Root rot? In household plants?” he asks.
“No, in residencies.”
Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you can tell he’s intrigued.
“I would benefit a lot from your knowledge, if I could just bring you a few samples, maybe go out and do some fieldwork—”
“You wouldn’t like working with me,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m very…particular.”
You have a feeling the word is meant as a substitute for something else.
“Wonderful, so am I,” you reply, digging one of the many notebooks out of your bag. Flipping to the calendar, you click open your open your pen and start scribbling.
“Mornings are best, get the most out of the daylight. Make sure to bring your equipment and something to write on, and a camera if you have one.”
“Wait, I just don’t know if I’m going to be much use to you,” Yoongi says a little nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.
You pause your scribbling to look at him. He’s pale in the fluorescent light, but not just physically. He has pale mannerisms and pale expressions, the countenance of a person that doesn’t feel as if they belong.
You know the feeling well.
“Coffee is always on me. How do you like it?” you say instead.
“Does Wednesday work?”
september 18, 2004
Three dead and five missing in less than six months. First, Michael Bradley, aged forty-two. Cause of death: chronic poisoning/exposure to toxic chemicals. He was found in his garage surrounded by household cleaners and herbicides. Apparently he’d been trying to get rid of the same strange mushrooms in his yard.
For now, all you have to work with is what they’ve published in the newspapers, and it seems that all that's come out of it is a public service announcement warning homeowners to be careful around toxic chemicals. His wife, Mary Bradley, hasn't commented on the circumstances of her husband’s death. And no one else has inquired any further into the matter.
Until today, obviously. Mrs. Bradley didn't answer her phone, and when you knocked on her door earlier this morning, she seemed less than pleased.
You opened with the standard introduction: I'm a journalist working on a story, would you mind consenting to an interview? Mrs. Bradley narrowed her eyes and scanned you up and down with barely concealed suspicion.
She asked what a journalist would find interesting about a common, accidental death in a small town. Apparently, the citizens of Farrow's End are very perceptive to outsiders.
You mentioned that fact that although Bradley's death appeared accidental, it's not common for people to die at the hands of household chemicals from prolonged exposure. Chronic poisoning is rarely without symptoms, why didn't he go to hospital?
She didn't have anything to say to that. You asked if she'd be comfortable divulging some of the details of his death, maybe even giving you access to the autopsy report. But she just grimaced at the mention, insisting that she had nothing to say about the matter and that you should leave right away.
She slammed the door in your face, but luckily it wasn't the first time people have resisted your questions. Unfortunately, a significant part of your job involves being a pain in the ass.
You linger in the front yard, where it's impossible not to notice the gnarled tree stumps and large rings of mushrooms scattered across the lawn.
You're not a mycologist by any means, but even you can tell that these mushrooms are strange. They seem to be multicolored, red and orange and brown, changing depending on the light like a hologram, but without any of the shine. They aren't bulb-shaped like many other mushrooms, but twist in tendrils this way and that, stretching.
And a smell hangs about them. You can't really describe it, something like damp and musk and old meat. Standing there, breathing them in, for too long makes your head spin.
And the trees, or rather, what's left of them. Nothing but stumps now, but you can tell that they were old when they were cut down. There's that same multi-colored effect to them, except it runs in veins throughout the tree's bark, spiraling into the rings.
You'll have to ask Yoongi about it.
Curiosity nips at you like a non-venomous snake even after you're home. It's not deadly, but it sure as hell is annoying.
What kind of disease infects fungi and trees? Why would the mayor care about privately investigating such a thing? And a thousand other questions.
You shove your boots on and enter back into the chill. You remember seeing a bookstore in town.
The Magic Shop: Books and Oddities
The front window glows with warm light, crowded with displayed volumes and curiosities (a stuffed raven, a jar of yellowing teeth, insects encased in amber).
The door swings open with the ring of a bell. Someone calls out "Welcome in," in a deep-velvet voice.
The smell of parchment and aged leather envelopes you like a familiar hug. You can't help pausing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. No matter what city you're in, places like this always feel like home.
It's everything that a bookstore should be: crowded, mysterious, and slightly dusty. The shelves are tightly grouped and arranged like a labyrinth few are privy to, and stacks—no, towers—of books occupy every corner.
You enter into the space, feet padding on the braided rugs, eyes drinking in the details. There are labels on the shelves, haphazardly spaced. They start normal enough: gardening, self-help, adventure.
But then you realize that they branch off into even more labels, or rather sub-labels. There's nocturnal gardening, gardening under the influence, Faerie gardens and goblin gardens. Each labeled sub-genre branches into even more specific sub-categories, creating a seemingly endless array of subjects.
You could explore this place for hours. In fact, you intend to over the course of your stay in Farrow's End.
You spend an indeterminate amount of time exploring all the labels and categories. The shelves twist this way and that, creating little nooks where the occasional armchair is tucked into.
Eventually, you come to a more open area with a wide-sprawling desk. The man sitting behind it is tall and tan, glasses perched on his nose, with short chestnut hair that shifts golden in the candlelight.
He's deeply focused on the book in his hands: A Comprehensive Guide to Navigating Parallel Universes and Pocket Dimensions.
Typically, you hate to bother people in a bookstore, especially if they're already reading. It's supposed to be a space for quiet reflection, for self-exploration and uninterrupted browsing. But you still have a job to do, and it's clear that you won't be able to navigate the complicated system yourself. At least, not in a concise period of time.
So you square your shoulders and prepare yourself to address the (handsome, you notice) man at the counter.
"Excuse me," you begin in a hushed voice.
The man's head whips up, as if he completely forgot there was another person here.
"Yes?" He says in that same deep voice, friendly and eager. "Do you need help finding something?" It sounds like he can't quite believe the fact. This place must not get many customers.
"Yes, if you don't mind."
His face lights up as if nothing would delight him more.
"Do you have anything on unusual mushrooms?" you ask.
The man sets down his book and slips out from behind the desk. "Hmm..." he mumbles to himself, expertly weaving between the shelves while you hurry to catch up.
"Let's see here..." he says, passing a wall draped with vines from a hanging planter, like the ones in Yoongi's lab, you notice.
"Fungi," he mutters, fingertips ghosting over the shelves. The sections under Fungi are vast and wide-ranging. Poisons & Antidotes, Moss & Lichens, Carnivorous, Aberrations.
He pauses at that last one, eyes flitting between the volumes.
"Anything specific?" he asks.
You debate on how much to disclose, but with the several cases of strange fungi in people's yards, it's probably common small town knowledge by now.
"Anything about an unusual fungus with...tendrils?" You can't help the hesitation, you're not sure if it's a common feature among mushrooms.
Apparently, it's not as unusual as you thought, because the man only nods and shifts his attention to one of the lower shelves. His slim fingers finally land on an old cloth-bound book with a red toadstool on the spine. There's no title on the cover, but the man seems to be familiar with it.
"Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in this one."
He says it with the confidence of someone who's read every book in the building front to back. A very specific part of your brain tells you that this fact is almost certainly true.
"Thank you very much," you say, turning the book over in your hands.
"My pleasure," he replies, and means it.
"How much?"
He guides you back to the counter and rings it up for a very good price.
You're itching to ask questions, but you're not sure where to start.
The man places the book into a brown paper bag printed with Magic Shop Books and Oddities and hands it to you with a warm smile.
You lose your nerve and take the bag in silence. Then, as if he could smell the fragmented thoughts darting around in your skull, he says, "Be careful in the woods."
You look at him. There's the same friendly smile, but now with a hint of good-natured curiosity.
"If you're going mushroom hunting, I mean," he adds.
You stare at him for perhaps too long.
"Thanks," you say, dropping a generous tip into the jar next to the register.
"Hope to see you again," he calls out as you exit through the front door.
A moth to flame, bees to honey. Insert: you to coffee shops with perfect ambient lighting. You spot it just as you're leaving the narrow alley that leads to the bookshop.
Turning the corner onto a cobblestone walkway, you catch sight of the cafe windows, slick with the recent rain. But from what you can see through the glass, it looks like a warm, cozy place.
Glancing at the front door, you notice an OPEN sign, even though it's quite late. You're opening the door and stepping inside before you're even conscious of it.
The interior reflects the same aged aesthetic as the exterior, dark wood and brick and brass accents. But the kitchen area houses clean chrome appliances, and there are shelves stacked with white dishes behind them. Golden light warms a glass case fully stocked with a manner of pastries, breads, and other nibbles, all of which still seem to be steaming hot.
You immediately decide that you like this place.
"Good evening," a pleasant voice calls, though you can't yet identify the speaker.
The smell of steam and freshly-ground coffee beans becomes richer as you approach the counter. You can hear someone puttering around in the back room.
You glance at the menu's wide selection, and when you look back at the counter, a man is standing right in front of you.
You don't scare easily, but it's enough to make you jump a little.
"What can I get you?" the man asks cheerfully. He's tall and slim, wearing a white button-up and black slacks under an apron. Brown hair, dark eyes, and a full smiling mouth.
You order a coffee and a pastry.
"What time do you close?" you ask, wanting to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere but also not wanting to be the asshole that settles in just before closing.
"On Wednesdays we close at noon, otherwise we're open twenty-four hours," he replies, sounding delighted by rather than annoyed by the fact.
A twenty-four hour coffee shop? You really like this place.
He must see your eyebrows raise in surprise, because then he proudly adds, "Only one in town."
Pleasantly surprised, you look around the shop to assess the seating options. There are booths tucked along the walls, a few tables and chairs, and a few plush-looking armchairs near the windows.
"Please, have a seat and make yourself at home. I enjoy the company," the man says as he makes your drink.
You take him up on it, settling into one of the chairs by the frosted glass of the window. It's then that you take a closer look at the book the shop owner recommended.
A fraying cloth-bound cover, a red toadstool instead of a title. Inside, a table of contents. First, a bit of basic mycology, which you greatly benefit from. Immediately after, a range of mutations, circumstances, and environmental factors that caused the direct disturbance to said mycology.
You get lost in it quite easily, sipping your drink (which is expertly brewed) and nibbling your pastry (which is almost too delicious for words). You know that you'll be spending a considerable amount of time here throughout your stay in Farrow's End.
The book cites several case studies, all suggesting that a new strain of fungus is not only spreading rapidly, but infecting all other strains it has access to.
You read on, only momentarily distracted by the occasional customers that enter into the establishment. Like the group of students, most likely from the University, who order a large batch of espresso to-go. Or the old man who orders a sandwich and black coffee and sits outside despite the late-night chill.
You don't realize it, but you read on until the early morning. The first few faint, pale rays of sunlight stretch across your current page through the window, and you jerk to attention when you realize what time it is.
Not that you have somewhere in particular to be today. But you've always liked to get a jump on things early on in the investigation. And you have better luck getting interviews during the day.
You had no idea that time was passing so quickly. This place seems to have an air of particular tranquility, the kind that only a handful of coffee shops are able to achieve. It's the feeling of finding a quiet place after being overstimulated for hours.
You take your dishes to the counter, drop a tip into the jar, and step into the morning chill.
Exhaustion sets in on the journey home, and you crash moments after your head hits the pillow.
The dreams start that night.
a/n: thanks so much for reading!! love to hear any of ur thoughts 👉👈
NEXT CHAPTER RELEASE: 05/08/24
#bts ot7#ot7 x reader#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts mystery#bts x fem!reader#bts series#bts f#bts fic#bts angst#bts fluff
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Hi! I was thinking of a F1 request (male reader preferably) where 2 drivers (or more) like the reader and are kinda fighting for attention, flirting and generally being sweet (like bringing reader his favorite drink etc) but reader is too oblivious to realize it happening. Eventually readers best friend (I was thinking Yuki or Danny) tells him but he stays in denial, despite liking the idea. Eventually one of the others confesses and pushes the other/s to do it as well and reader gets stressed about disappointing them, but they agree they can all date him (alternate ending: he picks one and the others deal with it lmao) and it’s just a happy and fluffy ending. I was thinking maybe Max and Charles, or maybe Lando and Oscar but honestly it kinda works with any combination. Like I said it can be 2 or more drivers, and I understand if you aren’t comfortable writing because everyone isn’t always cool with this type of stuff so ofc I’ll respect it if that’s the case. Have a good day!
BOTH? BOTH! ᴸᴺ⁴ ⁺ ᴼᴾ⁸¹
summery - you are the McLaren media manager and take care of the McLaren tiktok and instagram (filming,posting etc) , so you find yourself working quite a lot with Lando and Oscar, your bff is Yuki :)
reader - male
warnings - use of y/n?
a/n- ty for the req! I decided to actually try to write a poly relationship this time so sorry if it's bad, also I chose Lando and Oscar because I wrote so many max things soz
requests are open! reblogs are very appreciated :)
You are McLaren's social media manager, you film all their tiktoks,instagram posts and whatnot, so you're quite close to both drivers Lando and Oscar, some (your best friend Yuki) would say too close, but you never understand what he's talking about. Right now you're hanging out with Yuki in his place, you're sitting across him on the couch, he groaned and rolled his eyes at you as you put another +2 card on the table, drawing 4 cards from the deck "hey Y/N, how's the job at McLaren going?" he suddenly asked with underlying intentions you couldn't tell "it's fine,why you ask?" you answered Yuki with a raised eyebrow "oh no reasonn... you seem to get along well with the Lando and Oscar" he said while putting another card "isn't that a good thing,it's kind of my job, i don't want them to hate me" you said also placing a card down, you answer earned a shrug from Yuki "they seem to really like you" he said, you shook your head "impossible, but I'm not opposed to that" you answered while chuckling, after that Yuki dropped the subject and continued losing to you in UNO. A few minutes later Yuki decided to bring up the subject once again "So let's say you could date one of them,which one?" he asked, you rubbed your chin while thinking "hmm..can I say both?" you said, raising an eyebrow, you response earned a chuckle from Yuki "you can, but I don't think they'll like that" he said, and with that the conversation ended
You were sitting with the two drivers, scrolling on your phone trying to think about some ideas for the next tiktok video, you felt thirsty "I'm gonna go grab a glass of water" you said and stood up from the couch so it wouldn't seem like you're just walking away out of nowhere, you felt a hand force you to sit down,actually two hands, Lando's and Oscar's, you looked at them confused "I'll get you a glass of water" Lando said with a heroic voice before getting up, Oscar slightly elbowed the brit but Lando ignored that and walked to the kitchen area to get you a glass of water and returning shortly after and looking smugly at Oscar who rolled his eyes at Lando, making you think about what you and Yuki talked about earlier. Small things like that kept happening for the next few weeks, you saying you'll get something,ask for something etc, and the two boys jumping at the opportunity to provide it to you.
One day after doing some shootings for an Instagram post you were standing by yourself in a room, it was empty besides yourself, suddenly you were cornered by Lando, a determined look on the brits face "Hello, Y/N" he said, trying to make his voice deeper, you made a face and raised an eyebrow "Hello, Lando.." you said and put your phone in your pocket "I've got something to tell you!" he semi-yelled, you could tell he was kind of nervous "shoot" you said and waited for an answer from Lando "actually, Oscar also has something to tell you" he said and left, adding to your confusion as you stood there, moments later Lando came back,dragging poor Oscar with him "you go first, I'll tell him after you do" Oscar said and Lando nodded "but you are telling him, deal?" Lando said and Oscar nodded "tell me what? what's going on with you two" you asked in a confused tone "well...I think I like you,no, I know I like you, in a romantic way" Lando said first, without letting you even think, let alone open your mouth, Oscar started to speak too "Yeah, Me too, we both like you" the aussie said, leaving you shocked as you looked at them with your eyes widened "uhm...what..? you finally asked after a few seconds, you didn't know what to say, you thought about your conversation with Yuki, and how he said that the two would not want to date you at the same time, you felt a bit stressed, you didn't want to accept one and reject the other especially since you liked both of them, you train of thoughts was cut but Oscar starting to talk again "It's okay if you don't like us back, or only like one of us, but just tell us the truth,please" he said and Lando nodded,waiting for you answer "Well" you began "I like both of you, if that's fine, I just don't really know if you two would like to be in a relationship together, the three of us" you finished talking "we are more than okay with that!" Lando said enthusiastically, grabbing your shoulders and hugging you tightly, urging Oscar to join the hug. The three of you ended all cuddled up in one of their driver rooms.
#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 fic#land#lando norris x reader#lando norris x male reader#oscar piastri x male reader#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x yn#landoscar x reader#landoscar x male reader#lando x oscar#lando x reader#male reader#x male reader#f1 imagine
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Here it is... The fic where Luka kidnaps both his darling and Kairos.
TWs/tags: human furniture, dubcon, kidnapping, slight depiction of violence, pet play, NSFW, mind break, cucking (?), dark content, use of shock collars
Reader is GN, however, there is one paragraph where the reader is gendered. The asterisk* will mark the paragraph with afab reader, and the one in parenthesis is amab. :3c)
MDNI! 18+
In one previous post, I mentioned that Kairos and Luka do live in the same universe and city– and in a few other posts, I mentioned that they’d never share their darling. If one of them tries to kidnap darling, they’ll just report the other to the police.
Then another idea came up, a way that Luka could circumvent that predicament: Luka figures that Kairos would instantly report him if he kidnapped his darling. So… In order to stop that from happening…
Luka would kidnap both you and Kairos.
Luka’s house is definitely big enough to keep both of you. In the beginning stages, he’ll keep Kairos locked up in the attic while he keeps you in the basement. The basement is much cozier– meanwhile the attic is all dusty, hot, and muggy.
Between you and Kairos, Luka will be much, much nicer to you. He’s (quite literally) obsessed with you, so of course you get the better treatment. He cooks your favorite meals and feeds them to you by hand. He gives you plenty of water and always showers you in attention– sometimes he’ll even place a TV down in the basement and let you watch random stuff. You know, just so you don’t get too bored. He wants you to feel at home–! When you learn to accept your new life, he’ll spoil you rotten.
But for Kairos..? Luka is absolutely brutal.
Luka will rub in the fact that he beat Kairos in “winning you.” He’s simply just the superior man– the superior partner. Luka loves you too much to ever let you go. After all, you're the only person that has ever made him feel anything at all. And he really drives in the fact that you belong to him, and that Kairos will never have the chance to even touch you.
Luka will walk circles around Kairos as he mocks him relentlessly.
“Nobody is looking for you.”
“You’re pathetic. Disgusting freak.”
“They’re all mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Kairos will scream, squirm, and cry as much as he possibly can– but nobody can hear him. Luka is right: nobody is looking for him. Kairos doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t have any friends. He’s stuck in this hell forever.
To keep Kairos alive, Luka gives him his leftovers. He dumps it onto the dirty ground and drags Kairos next to it, commanding him to “eat up.” Kairos is forced to pathetically writhe on the floor and eat without his hands– all because Luka refuses to untie him. As for water, Luka forces Kairos to drink out of a dog bowl.
Most of the time, Kairos can’t hear anything. Luka’s house is eerily quiet at night. And during the day, Kairos can sometimes hear the sounds of children laughing and playing outside, or he’ll just hear Luka casually going about his day as if there aren't two people locked up in his house.
It’s torturous.
Over time, Luka will get you to warm up to him– call it stockholm syndrome kicking in, if you will. Or maybe you already loved him and he just needed to build trust with you. Either way– you eventually upgrade from the basement to his bedroom. And that’s when things get infinitely worse for Kairos.
He’s not just listening to Luka going about his daily routine now– no, now he has to also listen to the two of you fucking multiple times a day. The way you’re moaning out another man's name… The sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall… Kairos finds himself choking and sobbing as he’s stuck tied to the chair. Sometimes he starts to dissociate and pretends that he’s somewhere else.
Most of the time he pretends that the two of you just got married, and he’s playing out different scenarios of honeymoons in his head.
After a few more weeks or months go by, Luka will grow bored of keeping Kairos tied up in the attic. If he’s gonna keep a hostage, he might as well put them to good use. So what does he do with Kairos?
He uses him as human furniture. Forces him to also be a pet.
You’re horrified as you watch Kairos crawling around the house with a gag in his mouth and a leash attached to his throat. If Luka feels bold enough, he might even have the words “Luka’s Bitch” decorated on the collar. Oh– and it’s not just a regular collar, either. It’s a shock collar.
Any time Kairos acts out and disobeys Luka, he earns himself a shock so powerful that it causes him to seize and collapse onto the floor.
…This entire time, you thought it was just you in the house. You didn’t know there was another person. You’re not alone.
It makes your stomach churn.
And Luka encourages you to use Kairos as furniture as well. Use him as a footrest, use him as a table or a chair– do whatever.
Over time, deep down, incomprehensible and guilty thoughts begin to appear in Kairos’ mind. Things that made him once want to throw up now make him feel… Funny. He’s so happy that he gets to see your face again–!! He’s finally reunited with the love of his life, it’s just a shame it’s under such horrible circumstances.
Kairos doesn’t mind if you use him like furniture. It’s okay if you do it. But he loathes it when it’s Luka who’s using him.
The difference between you and Luka is like night and day. While Luka berates and degrades him, sometimes even depriving him of basic necessities, you always sneak around and give Kairos lots of love and extra food.
Kairos always breaks down and cries in your arms when you show him kindness– he’s so very thankful for it. But be sure that Luka doesn’t catch you. If he sees you being sweet towards Kairos, he’ll harshly punish Kairos and then fuck you right in front of him. Every time.
Kairos always feels so pathetic as he's forced to watch you getting ravaged by Luka. The way you're moaning under his touch... The hot, sticky sound of Luka's cock sliding in and out of you... All of this happening while Kairos is tied down and unable to do a thing. He's so fucking hard, and there's nothing there to relieve him. Luka punishes Kairos if he dares to look away.
In order to gain more privileges, both you and Kairos need to work to gain Luka’s favor. If the both of you prove that you’re capable of being trusted, he might give you more freedom. He’ll let you look out the windows every now and then– might even let you use the kitchen. He's much more open to giving you privileges than he is to giving Kairos any.
Except, of course, he always hides all of the sharp objects in the house. He doesn’t want you two to have access to weapons. And if you try to poison him even once, he’ll immediately make the kitchen permanently off limits when he's not around to watch you.
Also, over time, another funny thing happens. Luka doesn’t really like punishing you outside of sex- he'd much rather shower you in rewards. He’d rather save the roughness and punishments for more intimate settings. After all, he’s trying to earn your love– not make you hate him. So, what does he do instead?
Every time you act up, he’ll drag Kairos by his leash and punish him in your stead. After all, he knows that you care about Kairos and his wellbeing, so he uses that against you.
Oh, you just tried to break out of the house? You tried to poison Luka? Well, that deserves a proper punishment. Luka will tie you to a chair and force you to watch as he brutalizes Kairos. Whips him with a belt, kicks him in the stomach, takes away his food privileges for the next 48 hours... It’s horrible.
And in a way… This would cause Kairos to start policing you, too. Which is exactly what Luka wants. Kairos really, really doesn’t want to get punished. I mean, deep down, he’s absolutely happy that he gets to take the beating instead of you– it’s like he’s your hero!! …In some weird and twisted sense. But also, he really doesn’t want to get punished, so… Please don’t act out.
However, when the months keep rolling in, Luka will slowly warm up to Kairos. All of the punishments will grow less severe– and sometimes, Luka just lets you all off with a warning. It’s obvious that a big change has happened when instead of Luka just fucking you in front of Kairos, he lets him join in on the fun.
Except Luka doesn’t really want to touch him– so, he’ll let you touch Kairos instead. It’s what Kairos always wanted– Right?
Kairos should thank him.
Luka will tie his arms behind his back and keep him firmly locked to a chair, completely naked. Kairos feels so ashamed that he’s hard– but god, he can’t help it. He’s so excited to finally be able to touch you, his darling, the person that should’ve always been his–!
And Luka will make sure it’s enjoyable for everyone. Luka will strip you of your clothes, but he might put you in a cute pair of thigh highs, just for the fun of it. Luka will grab you by your hair and push your face into Kairos’ lap as he utters one phrase, “suck it.”
You’ll do as you’re told– you don’t have much of a choice. Kairos’ eyes instantly light up as you wrap your lips around his sensitive cock.
Finally– his dreams are coming true…!
Sort of.
As you suck him off, Luka will lift your ass into the air and he’ll fuck your tight hole. He’ll keep his right hand on your hip while his left hand grabs the back of your head, lacing his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t care if you can barely breathe– he’ll shove your head all the way down on Kairos’ dick as he bottoms out inside of you. Occasionally, he’ll lift your head up and lean in to kiss you on the lips.
It’s all so hot– but ultimately, it’s all for you and himself. Luka will always make sure you cum, that’s his top priority. His second priority is to make sure he gets to fill you up. As for Kairos? Well… Luka doesn’t care all that much.
If Kairos doesn’t cum? That’s too bad. It’s Kairos’ own fault that he didn’t come undone. But if he does cum? That’s alright too.
However, don’t expect Luka to make you stop sucking. Kairos will be squirming in his chair whining like crazy as you overstimulate him, his body trembling from the sensation, but you can’t stop until Luka says you can stop.
The second scenario is much more likely to happen than the first. The moment Kairos looks down and sees your fucked-out face choking on his length… He’ll cum right on the spot– every single time, without fail.
After the first instance of Luka letting Kairos join in the sex, he earns a lot more privileges. He can finally sleep in the same room as you two–!! But he’s not really allowed to rest on the bed. He’ll be forced to curl up and sleep on the floor– but hey, it beats the attic any day, right?
Luka also takes off Kairos' shock collar. Since Kairos has proved himself to be a good boy, he's now allowed to roam around freely. Hell, sometimes Luka will pet Kairos and give him some praise. It... Makes Kairos feel strange, but in a good way.
Kairos is also now allowed to cuddle you sometimes. When you’re simply sitting on the couch and trying to relax, Kairos will immediately hurry over to your side and rest his head in your lap– desperate to feel even an ounce of affection from you. He might ask you to stroke his hair and kiss the bruises Luka left on his skin.
* If Luka is at work and Kairos knows there’s no cameras around, he might beg to suck on your tits– you know, for comfort reasons! It would really make him happy to have them in his mouth– it would be therapeutic, even.
((And if you’re a guy, Kairos will instead beg to frot you. While it’s a lot more dangerous and the punishment for getting caught is heavy, Kairos is willing to risk it all. Don’t worry–! You can just sit there and relax; Kairos will be the one doing all the work with his hand.))
You know how stressful and traumatizing this whole situation has been for him… He needs to be comforted so badly… So.. Pretty please?
In some sick and twisted way, over time, Kairos grows to like the way things are– perhaps his mind does this as a way to cope. He tries his hardest to find all the positives in living this kind of life:
> He gets to spend every minute of every day with you!
> He doesn’t have to worry about talking to strangers.
> He doesn’t have to work and maintain a job.
> He doesn’t have to cook and clean for himself.
The list goes on. Kairos gains all of these benefits, and all he has to do is give up most of his basic human rights and submit to another man…!
Okay, Kairos still admits that is pretty bad. But… At least he has you…! That’s all Kairos really cares about in the end!
For Luka? He’s satisfied with the way things are. Not only does he not have to worry about Kairos ratting him out to the police, but now he has both the love of his life right by his side and a fun little pet to take his stress out on.
So… Everyone… Wins? In the end? ❤️
#yandere oc#yandere#yandere male#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere fic#luka being a little silly#yandere x darling#yandere x you#inconsistent art style strikes again lmao#wait lol this is my 100th post yippe
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omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.
(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈
Into You ✦
Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.
You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.
So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.
When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.
“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?
Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.
It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”
And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.
Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.
The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.
Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.
You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.
What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.
She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.
At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.
You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.
He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.
You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.
Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.
“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.
You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.
“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?
“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?
“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.
But you'll keep in touch.. right?
—
You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?
He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.
You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.
Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.
He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.
—
He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.
Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.
You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.
Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.
“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.
Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?
After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.
You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.
By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.
You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.
Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.
Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.
Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.
You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.
“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.
“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”
“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.
“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.
No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”
“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.
“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.
—
He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.
It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”
—
errrm part 2 when 🤔
tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀
#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe imagine#sam monroe smut#i love sam monroe#sam monroe fanfiction#hayden christensen fanfic#hayden christensen star wars#anakin skywalker smut#rots anakin#anakin skywalker x you#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker
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just julia, a bachelorette challenge ♡
julia feng is back at it again after trying for a chance at romance with the lovely scarlett on @theosconfessions love is embarrassing bc (we hope my girl finds the love she deserves, the top 5 was just announced so go check it out!! <3) there will be seven spots in the del sol mansion, waiting to be filled with your lovelies! this will be minimal & casual as this is my first challenge there will not be too much story telling as that really isn’t my strong suit but we’re gonna damn well try & my laptop isn’t the best so i can’t do toooooo much! so please bare with me, and now onto..
a little about julia~
julia feng is twenty-six years old, and the adopted daughter of lily & victor feng. previously, she had thought she was a lesbian but has been experimenting since love is embarrassing, now she as came out as pansexual. she is the owner of feng beauty, and has a youtube channel where she emassed over one million followers. she was living in the spice district in san myshuno but moved to del sol valley after appearing on the bachelorette. julia loves rock & blues, and enjoys attending concerts and local shows. she’s a big hopeless romantic, and dreams of finding her one and only (& living happily ever after all that jazz). julia is very down to earth, despite being very rich, she doesn’t like being in the public eye. she wants someone to love her for her, not just the feng name, and that’s been hard for her as she only finds people who want to be with her for being rich. she’s never had a had a real relationship, only flings. but she knows what she wants, she’s gonna be thirty soon, she knows she’s ready to is ready to settle down & give her all to someone (not just her work). she knows a reality tv show may not be the place to find love, but she’s willing to try! you can read more about julia here!
requirements
⭒ humans only, maybe next time occults <3
⭒ young adults preferred, any gender welcome
⭒ alpha/mix preferred, but maxis hair only
⭒ backstories are welcome, be detailed
⭒ include traits, skills, likes & dislikes
⭒ you can give them skills in-game or i can do it for you
⭒ no romantic traits or aspirations!!!
⭒ one outfit for each category
⭒ be okay with mods like ww & basemental
deadline ✄
the deadline will be two weeks from now on the 8th of may, please tag me @plumbewb & #justjulia for all submissions so i can see them & reblog them properly! sorry if that seems too soon, i’m excited to get started on this. subject to change depending on how soon i receive all sims!!! (any questions just reach out via messages)
#justjulia#a bachelorette challenge#ts4 bachelorette challenge#the sims 4 bachelorette challenge#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#sims#the sims
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